Chapter 50
“KILLING BUTTERFLIES” BY LOU BLISS
Boxing gloves were made to protect hands. Iron knuckles were made to give us more leverage. No one ever taught kids like me how fragile our fists were when fueled with adrenaline.
Without giving me much time to breathe after work, I found myself eating concrete.
Was I really that surprised? No. It had been too quiet in my own little version of the underworld.
Papa hadn’t spoken to me in weeks. The Vincent boys were abnormally quiet, and I was taking too many assignments from my grandfather without seeing a wink of change in life for me or Estelle.
Unfortunately for me, it meant I wouldn’t be reading bedtime stories with either of my girls.
A guttural grunt choked out of me, echoing through one of the many narrow alleyways in Murdafest. A jolt of pain rippled through my body as another fist collided with my stomach.
Disoriented, I stumbled clumsily along the car behind me.
The world spun in rippling circles while my senses were overwhelmed with punch after punch.
Desperately, I attempted to regain my footing.
My trembling hands reached out to steady myself as I slammed into the ground again.
Without missing a beat, my jacket was seized.
The fabric was pulled taut as it turned into a makeshift weapon.
Oscar forcefully propelled me toward another parked vehicle with a loud laugh, the dull thud of my body colliding with the metal sending vibrations through my bones.
“Oh, Satan.” I rolled onto my side and groaned.
“What’s wrong, Battles?” Maxim snickered. He grabbed me by the back of the jacket and dragged up from the ground. “Can’t take it?”
I coughed toward the pavement, blood splattering down from my lip.
Every part of my body throbbed. I was sure by the metallic taste in my mouth, there was something busted inside.
The Vincent boys, besides Milo, were giving me a piece of their mind.
And for what? Because they were idiots and couldn’t keep from being jealous of a woman.
“Where is the fun?” Oscar picked up my bike helmet and tossed it at my back. He laughed when I fell back to the ground. “I can’t believe boss man is really looking at your pathetic ass. Woowww.”
“You could at least fight back, Quinn.” Maxim crossed his arms and watched me struggle to get back to my feet.
I rolled up and spat blood on the pavement. “I’ve gotten worse beatings by my three-year-old,” I snarked, glaring at the pair of brothers.
Oscar sneered and exchanged a look with Maxim. He stepped forward and fixed the metal knuckles on his hand. He swung low and nailed me once more in the side.
I gasped for a breath and fell back to the ground. My ribs were sobbing, but I knew it wasn’t over. This wasn’t the first time the boys had tried to toughen me up, make me understand my place within their eyes.
“How’s that girl?” Maxim asked, walking around me with slow, methodical steps. “Alive?”
“Of course she’s alive!” Oscar stopped beside my head and scoffed. “She’s weak. She won’t kill her.”
“A little birdie saw you brought her home the other day.” Maxim circled me. “And you went hiking on Thursday.”
“Oh! Don’t forget the coffee shop.”
“Oh, yes, the coffee shop. You two go there regularly now, hm?”
“I have till Valentine’s Day,” I grumbled, pulling myself back up.
Oscar swung his leg and kicked me in the ribs.
He didn’t waste a second to rear back and slam the metal toe of his boots into me again.
He grabbed a star embroidered onto the back of my jacket and pulled me up from the ground.
I barely had time to get my footing before he kicked me into the side of his car.
“Tell us the truth.” Oscar kneeled beside me and smirked. “Is she a good fuck?”
When I didn’t answer, he stood back up and shared a smirk with his brother.
“Saw her at the football field the other day,” Maxim added with a laugh. “Damn, did she look fuckable, Quinn. Do you think she’s a screamer? I think she’s a screamer.”
“And look at the ass on her!” Oscar started to walk away to grab my helmet from the ground. His annoying laugh rippled off the walls of the alleyway. “I bet she’s a virgin. Wonder if she’d scream for her daddy when I give her a little taste of my?—”
I stumbled up from the pavement and grabbed a bar of metal beside one of the trash cans. With my bloody teeth gritted, I swung at his head. My vision had turned red. If he said another fucking word about her like that, I knew I would kill him.
Oscar grunted in surprise as I slashed him in the head. He changed directions before I could hit him again and threw his fist into my face.
I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and spat blood into his face. I threw his head to the pavement, yanking him up roughly before plummeting down again sharply.
Maxim tugged at my jacket. He tried to yank me away from his brother, but white-hot rage fueled me. My fist came down on him repeatedly. My nostrils flared. Angry breaths puffed in and out of me, and I growled as Oscar attempted to turn us over and defend his face.
“Don’t you even think about her like that!” I shouted.
“Get her off me!” Oscar shrieked for his brother’s help.
“Hey!” a voice shouted. “You kids better get out of here before I call the cops!”
Maxim, being the best big brother ever, took off, much like his father would have.
He didn’t care that I had just slammed his little brother’s head so hard into the pavement, Oscar was probably seeing all the stars he could ever dream of.
Maxim was too much of a little bitch when it came to sticking around when cops were involved.
Dragging the man up to greet me, I growled like an animal. I wanted him to know I meant business.
“I will rip your head off your fucking shoulders.” I gripped both sides of Oscar’s collar and snarled in his face. “Don’t you even think about her again.”
Oscar’s lips curled into a sadistic smile. “You’re attached to her. You’ll never kill her.” Blood laced in his gums as he laughed. His eyes sparkled with joy. “I’ll have my turn with her. You’ll see.”
My fist hammered into his already-crooked nose. A deafening crack muted Oscar’s painful scream.
“I told you kids to get out of here! No one wants your gang activity he?—”
My head shot up as a gun fired.
I flew back at the sound and searched for the source. Maxim rolled his eyes and watched the man’s body topple over onto the ground with a struggling wheeze of a breath. He used his foot to kick me the rest of the way off his brother while I was distracted.
“Come on,” he hissed, dragging Oscar up.
I glared at the boys as they rushed away together. Their vehicle loudly shrieked as the old tires skidded over the cement and out of the alleyway. I watched their flickering taillights disappear around the corner.
Carefully, I pulled myself up from the ground and coughed.
Oscar’s words echoed in my head. It was almost as bad as Maxim taunting me with every place I had gone with Quinntessa.
I’d been under surveillance more than I originally thought.
This wasn’t going to end well for me if Papa had caught onto what I’d been struggling with lately.
I slowed my steps within a few feet of the man Maxim shot. Blood pooled on the pavement, his limbs in unforgivable positions. His back moved with a desperate ache for a true, satisfying breath.
He wouldn’t get one.
“He-help.” He reached out for me.
I felt sick to my stomach. Not because the man in front of me was begging for his life. Not even because my ribs were probably fractured and I was sure to be covered with bruises by tomorrow morning. It was the worry in my chest for Quinntessa that made me want to throw up.
My eyes closed, and I fished my gun from my jacket pocket. It was the humane thing to do after being shot four times. He wouldn’t last waiting for an ambulance.
“You’ll be free from this pain soon.” I opened my eyes and stared down at the pained brown eyes below me. “Happy holidays, sir.”
A single shot silenced his wheezing and put the poor man out of his misery.