CHAPTER FORTY-ONE #2
The rough rope bites into my wrists as they tie me up again, tighter this time.
I hear a choked-out cry, followed by the sound of boots shifting. I force my head up in time to see Russell yanking Sarah’s braid, dragging her to her knees.
The weight lifts off my back, but I stay down, stiff. Oliver hooks an arm under mine and jerks me upright. My knees scrape across the ground, loose earth grinding through the torn denim, pressing into the raw cuts beneath.
Everything’s a mess—my head, my vision, even my breathing’s ragged and wrong. The world twists, and next thing I know, I’m shoved back down to my knees.
“James?”
I hear my name, but my head’s still foggy. I shake it, trying to focus.
“James?”
I recognize the voice now. It’s Michael.
“James, you good?”
I blink a few times and catch him next to me. I’m in the same fucking spot I was before Sarah freed me, on my knees, back where I started. Only now, Sarah’s right in front of me, across the bonfire.
“Yeah,” I mumble, still staring at her.
“Shut the fuck up, you two,” Russell says, walking over and dropping down on the log beside me.
Tyler exhales, rolling his shoulders and shrugging his jacket back into place. He brushes the dirt from his clothes, then runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back, fixing what he can of himself.
Not that it matters; his face is a goddamn nightmare. His nose is destroyed and flattened. His cheekbones are split and swollen. Deep gashes cut across his skin, blood dripping from his chin. Even a piece of his ear is missing, thanks to me.
He doesn’t care, though. Because he’s still breathing. And he knows, like I do, those cuts won’t mean shit tomorrow, just a few scars.
He spits a mouthful of blood into the grass, wipes his mouth, and walks straight to Sarah, tilting his head as he eyes her.
“Do you know what the problem is, bird? You still don’t know the rules.”
He crouches in front of her and grabs her left wrist in a crushing grip.
Sarah jerks back. “Let me go!” she yells, thrashing against his grip, but it’s like a vise.
Tyler grins, his teeth red with blood. “You think you have a choice? Nah, bird. You do what I say, when I say. Maybe I’ll be nice. Maybe I won’t.”
I see red.
“Touch her again, and you’re fucking dead, Tyler,” I snarl. “I’ll break every single bone in your body, not just the ones in your face.”
Tyler laughs, a slow, ugly sound. “Funny you say that, Outsider.”
We face each other for a moment.
We both know how this goes, and how it always ends.
Then he wraps his hand around Sarah’s middle finger. And I already know.
He’s about to make her scream.
“You watching, Outsider?” Tyler says, not even looking at me. His eyes stay locked on her.
“Sarah, look at me,” I say, trying to keep my breathing steady.
“James?” Her green eyes find mine, but she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek.
She’s scared. I don’t want her to be scared.
“There are ten rules you need to follow, bird,” Tyler starts.
“Sarah, don’t fucking listen to him. Just keep looking at me,” I say, straining against the ropes, fighting to break free.
I try to push myself up, but Russell jams his gun into my back, pinning me down.
“Just watch, Outsider,” he says. “Maybe then you’ll learn to respect the rules.”
“These rules are special, only for my birds,” Tyler adds.
“Fuck!” I snap, my voice rough, desperate. “Sarah, his rules don’t mean shit. It’s just you and me.”
Sarah’s breath hitches, and she presses her lips into a tight line, but she doesn’t look away. Not from me. Not even with him right beside her.
“Rule number one, bird,” Tyler purrs, his fingers tightening around hers, “you break something of mine. I’ll break something of yours.”
And then he wrenches her finger back.
I hear the bone snap. Loud. Sharp. A sick, wet crunch that makes my spine stiffen. Sarah’s face twists, her pupils dilated, her head jerks back, and a scream tears from her throat—so raw, I feel it in my bones.
Michael goes rigid beside me, staring in shock at the horror in front of us. He’s never seen anything like this.
I have.
And I know exactly how this breaks a person.
“Sarah, keep looking at me,” I say softly, even as Russell’s gun digs into my back, keeping me from getting up and cracking Tyler’s skull open. “You’re the strongest person I know. Don’t forget that.”
Her tear-filled eyes find mine again, and the pain in them hits me so hard, it makes my chest ache.
Tyler grabs her chin, his fingers digging into her jaw, forcing her to look at him instead of me. His other hand is already curling around her second finger.
“Rule number two, bird. You better look at me when I fucking talk to you. You wanna act like you’re worth something? I’ll remind you real quick you ain’t.”
Another crack.
Another shatter of bone.
Another scream. Her scream.
She gasps, her whole body jerking, choking on pain.
“Sarah, listen to my voice. Think about the roof. Our roof.” I search her eyes, desperate, but she’s not looking at me anymore.
She only sees him.
Her lips tremble, her breath is ragged, her cheeks streaked with tears, but her eyes stay locked on him.
“Go to hell, you piece of shit!” she spits in his face, despite all that pain.
Tyler’s bloody smirk widens.
“Rule number three, bird,” he says, gripping her third finger. “Birds don’t chirp unless they’re told. If I don’t ask you something, you keep your mouth shut. If you break that rule”—he snaps her third finger in half—“I’ll shut it for you.”
Sarah’s scream splits the night, high and agonized. My teeth clamp down on my lip until I taste blood.
I want to move. I want to rip Tyler apart piece by fucking piece. I want to feel his bones shatter in my hands, hear his breath gurgle as I crush his throat, make him choke on his own screams.
But I can’t move.
I can only watch the woman I love suffer.
“Please stop. Please!”
Michael’s voice cracks beside me. His whole body shakes, eyes locked on his sister—helpless, horrified, fucking shattered.
Tyler barely even looks at him. Just clamps his hand down on her next finger.
Sarah’s eyes widen. She knows what’s coming. I know what’s coming.
And I can’t fucking stop it.
“Rule number four, bird,” Tyler says. “Birds don’t get the luxury of deciding when they eat. You’ll take what I give you, when I give it, or you don’t eat at all.”
He yanks her finger so hard it snaps clean, like a dry twig under a boot.
But Sarah’s scream is different this time.
It’s… pure fucking rage.
Her whole body shakes in Tyler’s grip, her breath coming in short, furious bursts. She stares him down, eyes burning with something beyond pain. And for the first time, I see something in Sarah I’ve never seen before.
Hate.
“There are no more rules!” she screams, loud and defiant.
Nobody questions the rules anymore. You don’t have to agree. You can even disobey. But punishment always follows. Only Outsiders dare to challenge gangs’ authority. And the second you say those words? That’s when it starts.
For a moment, Tyler freezes, like he didn’t see that coming. Then he turns to me.
“Damn, Hill. What’ve you been teaching her? Trying to make her an Outsider?” he barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Gonna be real interesting breaking that girl in.”
“Fuck your rules,” I growl through clenched teeth.
I try to rise, rage roaring up like wildfire, but the barrel of Russell’s gun slams into my back, grinding into my spine until I’m forced down again.
I don’t take my eyes off Sarah, though.
She’s strong. I know that. But one broken finger can make a grown man black out. She’s already taken four.
All I want is to pull her into my arms, to hold her tight, to let her feel something other than pain.
My warmth.
My hand stroking her back.
My voice whispering that it’s over now, that she’s safe.
Tyler curls his hand around her thumb, the last unbroken finger.
“Rule number five, bird,” he hums, grinning like the fucking devil, “you sleep when and where I say. The ground. My feet. Russell’s lap. You don’t get comfort. You get obedience.”
He bends her thumb back until it breaks in half.
Sarah’s lips part, but no scream comes out, just a broken whimper, like she has nothing left. Her breathing goes shallow, and her eyelids grow heavy. She can barely keep them open.
She tilts to the side and collapses into the grass, limp.
And she doesn’t move anymore.
Michael lurches forward, trying to reach her, even though he knows he can’t. The sound he makes isn’t a word, it’s just pain.
Tyler turns to us, smirking. “I think that’s enough rules for tonight.”
Russell and Oliver laugh, which only makes my blood boil.
I swear to God, I’ll make them bleed for this.
Tyler walks over to us, completely unfazed, as if this is just another night for him. He sits on the log beside Michael and pulls a cloth from his pocket, casually dabbing at the blood running down his face. The blood I put there.
I hope it fucking burns.
Sarah’s still slumped in the grass, motionless.
She passes out from the pain.
From the pain.
The pain he caused.
My knuckles pop as I clench my fists, twisting, trying to snap the rope again. But I barely move before pain rips through my side as Russell jams the barrel of his gun into my ribs, hard.
And that’s when I know. One of them is definitely broken. Maybe more.
“Cut the shit!” he snaps.
Russell pulls out a cigarette and flicks his lighter open with a lazy snap. He takes a long drag, then blows the smoke right in my face.
I don’t flinch. I won’t give them the fucking satisfaction.
Russell smirks and passes Tyler the pack and the lighter. Tyler lights one, takes a slow drag, and exhales smoke into the cold night air. His eyes settle on my arm, on the scarred skin his brother Kevin burned, and I catch the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Motherfucker.
His gaze flicks to Oliver behind us. “Oliver, wanna do the honors?”
Oliver perks up. “Oh shit, the best part!”
He takes two steps toward Michael, gripping his shoulders tight. Michael tenses instantly, twisting and fighting to break free, but Oliver holds firm.
“What the hell are you doing?” Michael demands, but Oliver doesn’t answer.
I stiffen.
“I killed your brother. Take it out on me,” I say. “Leave him out of this. He didn’t do anything.” I pull at the ropes around my wrists, trying to loosen the knots, but they won’t fucking budge.
My eyes snap back to Tyler. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, cigarette still burning between his fingers as he studies Michael. He takes a drag and exhales through his nose, like a bull about to charge.
“Michael Williams,” Tyler says, like he’s greeting an old friend.
Michael goes still. His eyes flick to me, confused.
How the fuck does Tyler know Michael’s name?
“I hear you enjoyed my city very much, Michael,” Tyler continues, his expression hardening. “But you broke one of my rules.”
He grabs Michael’s arm and yanks up his sleeve, exposing bare skin. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, holding it between two fingers, the tip glowing red.
Then he presses it straight into Michael’s skin.
“You fucked one of my birds.”