8. Ali
eight
Ali
The moment I step out of the small, dank closet, the air feels different, charged almost. I can almost feel the tension radiating off the space in front of me. Keeping my eyes downcast, I move forward and step up onto the small platform that sits among a circle of chairs. From my position, I can count seven additional pairs of feet that aren’t Mr. Castro’s behind me. I’m hesitant to peek up; I feel hope in my chest that my men are here but fear that the asshole lied to me about my men race through me. I would give anything just to see their faces, to see they are okay and made it out alive. But men like Mr. Castro will use anything they can against you, including threatening my guys to keep me in line. Regardless, I can’t cower or show any submission to these assholes, not an ounce, or they will take it and run with it.
So, with what little strength I have left, I straighten my shoulders and lift my head, coming eye to eye with them. My men. I would know them from anywhere, even if they weren’t wearing their masks. I hear whispered conversations start behind me, but I ignore it all as Riot, my psychopath, attempts to lunge forward, only stopping due to Cash’s arm across his chest. He leans toward him, eyes trained on me, and whispers something that has Riot grinding his jaw but nodding. I take this time to take them all in, because yes, they’re here, but the last time I saw Riot, he wasn’t awake and hadn’t been for a while. As for the other two, I didn’t even know if they were alive, but I take stock of them all, looking for injuries or any sign of distress. Of course, I see none, which is a relief.
Mr. Castro’s words scream in my head now. “If you don’t get your ass out there right now and on that stage, I will put a bullet in each one of your lovers’ heads.” So, I do. Slowly I start to move, pushing past all the pains and bone-deep aches, but I keep my eyes on my men. I’m not exactly sure when they became my men, but a moment ago when I realized they were alive, my heart did a weird flutter. So, it must be a sign. Right?
All three of them are dressed head to toe in black suits, looking just as good now as they do covered in blood. I’m not sure which version of these men I like more, but I smirk when I see their ties. Light, shimmery skulls—how fitting.
Riot’s green eyes stare back at me with so much emotion. The man is practically foaming at the mouth, which only makes the muzzle mask he is wearing ironic. Cash’s mask turns his normally ocean blue eyes into the deep dark pits of the sea floor, but I can still feel them caressing my body, assessing, calculating, yet cold and icy all the same. Arsen’s gas mask, on the other hand, hides his gunmetal grey eyes, but I can practically feel the inferno of heat that is Arsen trying to stare into my soul.
“Turn around, darling,” Mr. Castro snaps, causing me to tense. I almost forgot for a second where we were; I was so focused on my men. This time it’s Arsen that twitches with the need to act, but I give a small shake of my head as I slowly sway my hips around and turn to face the other five men. Riot growls behind me, but I ignore him as I take in the new threats.
Castro sits with two other older men to my left, who I’m guessing are part of the ‘fathers of the year club’. They are dressed in black three-piece suits as well, but basic-looking with white shirts and a plain black bowtie. Lame. Their masks are generic masquerade masks that cover the eyes and forehead area. I send them a vicious glare of annoyance as they lick their lips and undress me even more with their eyes before realizing my mistake and snapping my head away to the last two men.
These two men suddenly put me on edge. Something about them ringing familiar but I’m not sure from where. Their eyes are more predatory, like I’m a piece of meat to be fought over. They are dressed similarly to the guys’ fathers but with plain black masks that only cover their eyes. One appears to be older, the other around the guy’s age.
“Ah, Ethan, do you see something you like?” someone asks, but it’s the name that has ice freezing my blood.
“Actually, I do. I haven’t seen this one before; is she new?” the man, Ethan, speaks, and it’s like I have an out-of-body experience. I know I’m still swaying to the music, behaving so the fucker doesn’t act on his threat towards my men, but at the same time, everything in me tenses. That voice. It may have been years, but some things you don’t forget. Like where you came from. It clicks then, where I know these two men, Richard and Ethan Black. My father and half-brother.
I must have mentally shut down for a second because the next thing I know, Riot is threatening someone while Cash holds him back. Ethan is laughing like a crazed hyena, while a few others join in.
“Now, now boys. Finders’ keepers. We found the little bunny rabbit, so now she’s ours. Is that not the way our world works?” someone chuckles out.
“Well, funny how you want to mention how our world works, James. Last I checked, the Society’s bylaws state you can’t go around killing your heirs because you’re not ready to give up the throne,” Cash cautions while keeping a hold on a very angry-looking Riot, who is glaring daggers at Ethan.
“Not that they did a very good job, as we are still breathing and very much alive.” Arsen adds, his head darting in Riot’s direction, then the Blacks and back.
“Now, son. That was all a part of the trials. You can’t seriously think we would want you three dead,” Castro says.
“Plus, you three needed to prove yourselves, so we had to up the ante. If you three couldn’t survive, you were never going to survive our world any further. We sheltered you all for many years.” This catches Riot’s attention as he turns away from a still-grinning Ethan and faces the man who just spoke.
“Sheltered us? Is that what you call having your son shoot a man in the head at the age of twelve? Or what about when we were fourteen and you locked us in a room with hookers and told us we couldn’t come out until we became men? Was that sheltering us from our world?” he spits, each word sounding even more venomous than the last.
“That is the way of our world, boys. We taught you what you needed to know when you needed to know it. But it was obvious you three weren’t ready to take over the Hellfire Society yet, so we did what we needed to do. You would do the same, would you not?” the man that looks like Cash says.
I was so focused on the heated conversation at hand that I made another stupid rookie mistake. Left my back exposed to a predator. Suddenly I’m lifted off my feet and slammed against a hard chest, but not one I want. Ethan’s hands run up my stomach and over my chest until he has a handful of tit. A shiver of disgust runs through me, one he mistakes for excitement as he leans in and whispers, “You smell so good. baby,” then proceeds to lick my cheek. Gross.
Now a lot of things could have happened. I could have been good and simply giggled him away. I’m sure that is what Castro would have wanted. But something they didn’t know was this sick fuck was blood-related to me, and my father was sitting right next to him, licking his lips, like he wanted the next pony ride. So, instead I did what my men would have expected and what any other sane woman would do in this situation. I slam my high heel spikes down on Ethan’s right foot, step away, turn, and then add the cherry on top. My knee to his balls. The asshole crumbles to the floor with a cry of anguish, which has my entire body lighting up with joy. Riot starts laughing like a lunatic, while Cash and Arsen chuckle along. I hear a few other curses and intakes of breath full of shock, but one second I’m grinning, getting ready to turn and see the approval in my men’s faces, and the next my father’s backhand is landing a hard one across my face.
“Bitch.” he spits, and since I was already semi-unstable in these stupid heels, I go crashing to the floor. My hot pink bunny mask is flying off and away in the same moment. Well, now is as good a time as ever for another family reunion. Blood fills my mouth as I take a second to breathe before kicking off the stupid fucking shoes and climbing to my feet. Turning to one of the nightmares of my past, I spit the blood still pooling on my tongue toward the man who gave me half his DNA before looking up and grinning wide.
“Hello, Father. Miss me?”