4. Lafe
LAFE
T he small canister weighed heavy in my pocket as I headed toward the movie room. On the one hand, watching movies while Amorette was being tortured or worse felt wrong. On the other, it was the one place in the compound where I felt like I could escape without the help of drugs.
My hands shook so bad I missed the handle two times. I caught it on the third try and shoved it open. The door banged against the wall and bounced back, slamming into my shoulder.
“ Helvete, ” I cursed and kicked the door shut.
Then kicked it again.
And again, as I let go of my rage.
When I splintered the wood and nearly ripped it from the hinges, I fell onto the couch. The movie room was in our private hall. No one but us was allowed in this hall. Our men knew they’d die if they pushed this boundary.
Some of the wildness under my skin settled with the outburst, but my heart still beat too fast. I still felt out of place inside my own body. A hit would make me feel better. Clear my mind.
But every time I reached for the powder, I curled my fingers instead. I never used at the compound. It was my clear line in the sand. One I broke because I’d needed to when Amorette was a fool. And possibly a traitor.
I laughed.
A traitor to what? She didn’t have any loyalty to us.
The darkness in the room soothed me more than I would ever admit. I could have turned the TV on to something mindless, but I’d much rather sit here in complete silence with nothing except my thoughts.
That was probably a terrible idea, but it made me feel better. Not need the drugs so bad.
Had Amorette even been taken? I exhaled long and slow.
As soon as she was gone, I’d struggled to come to terms with Vicente taking her. But what if she took the opportunity to escape? The more time passed, the more I wasn’t convinced.
Andre was a beast when he was on a mission. He would have found whispers about where she was if Vicente had taken her. It was more likely that she left when she had the chance. Found her way back home.
I hadn’t shared my thoughts with any of them. They wouldn’t believe me. Parker would say I was just paranoid. Andre wouldn’t say anything at all. Grey…
Grey would knock me in the face like he did Parker whenever they were in the same room together.
So what if Vicente did take her? Or she left?
At the end of the day, she wasn’t with us anymore. She couldn’t cause problems. She couldn’t fight us. Isn’t that what I wanted?
I fucked up in taking her in the first place. Right?
Scrubbing a hand over my eyes, I pressed my head back against the couch. Even without the TV on, there was still a soft hum in the room. It was louder with no windows, with no light.
Six days since the fights.
Six fucking days that we had no idea where she was. Maybe she was back home. Any minute, Feds could storm our doors. We’d see them coming long before we were actually in danger.
For the moment, my paranoia was at bay.
Except, I kept thinking about her. Every time I was alone, Killer was the only thing on my mind.
When I was with any of my brothers, she was forced to the front of my thoughts.
Killer consumed my entire being.
“Brother, are we protesting?” Parker asked through the hole in the door, causing me to jump.
“Bastard.” I relaxed back against the couch, pretending I hadn’t jumped two full inches off the seat.
Parker sighed as he twisted the handle and politely stepped in, and shut the door behind him. Sometimes, Parker was too much. Too cultured, too smooth, too classy. It was hilarious because he could be the dirtiest of us.
“What are you doing here?” I closed my eyes when he took a seat on the other end of the couch.
“I happened to be returning to my apartment to think when I noticed the door splintered to hell. Care to explain what the door did to you?”
“Like you fucking care.” He didn’t care about anything unless it impacted him or it provided amusement.
I could practically see his shrug. “Are you staying away from the powder?”
“Again, like you care.”
He didn’t answer, and I didn’t expect him to. I enjoyed that about my brothers. For the most part, they left me and my bad fucking decisions alone.
We sat in silence for several minutes. It was odd that Parker was in here at all. Outside of Grey, I was the only one ever to use the movie room. Andre was too busy, and Parker was gone more than he was here.
“Do you honestly think Amorette was taken?”
“Lafe, how many times are you going to ask that?” Parker lets out a manic laugh, completely at odds with how worn down he seemed when he entered.
I stiffened. I hated how they treated me like a fickle, confused kid.
“Until I know for sure that she was actually taken. There’s no evidence. None. I want to believe she wouldn’t have walked away from us—”
“Do you want to believe that? Are you sure, brother? Because I’m not convinced that’s what you really want. I think you’ve been obsessed with Little Love since the day you stole her away from the Gallery.”
I opened my eyes in time to see him lean toward me. If there were more light, his eyes would have twinkled with his brand of cruel mischief.
“How much does it kill you to know Grey fucked her before you?”
All-consuming rage seethed just below the surface as I growled and tackled Parker. He was faster than me, but I had been trained by Grey just like he had been.
I reared back and clocked his chin while gripping his collar to pin him against the couch. He laughed, the wet bubbly sound grating against my ears. I hated that fucking sound.
I pressed against his throat, using my forearm to cut off his air.
That was the turning point when he’d had enough.
With his own snarl, he slammed his hands against my chest and propelled me backward.
I tumbled to the floor as he straddled my waist and punched once, twice, and just when I thought the third hit was going to land, he gripped my shirt and banged my head against the floor.
“Stop fucking around! Between you and Grey, we’re all going to get concussions, and where will that leave us?
Ripe fucking ducks for Vicente.” He pushed off of me and stalked to the other side of the room, hitting the lights.
The last time they’d been on, they were dimmed, giving just enough light to make out expressions and body language yet leaving the details fuzzy.
The scuffle lasted less than two minutes, but I couldn’t make myself get up. I was drained, aching for sleep I knew wouldn’t come, even if I downed a bottle of NyQuil.
My heart pounded in my throat as I laid there, waiting for whatever bullshit Parker was about to spout. Whatever it would be, it would be about Amorette.
Everything was about Amorette.
“Care to ask yourself why you lost your winning disposition to one innocent little question?” Parker reclaimed his seat on the couch.
No. No, I didn’t want to ask myself anything.
“You’re a bastard, Parker. You don’t care about getting Amorette back. Not like Grey does. Why are you even in here?” I tossed an arm over my eyes.
“Vicente has to die. He’s the root of all our miserable problems.” Parker’s voice lost its amusement and I pushed up to my hands. He braced his elbows on his knees as he narrowed his eyes.
Fear trilled up the back of my neck, and I shuddered. Those kinds of thoughts were what signed death warrants in the Institution. I’d seen enough death, caused enough, that I didn’t want any part of it.
“No. If you want to risk your life to leave us, go for it. I’ve seen what happens to those that try.
Being his bastard son isn’t going to save you.
We’ll get Amorette back, for Grey,” even that felt like shit on my tongue, “but that’s it.
We find a way to get her off his radar and then go on as normal. ”
“Lafe, Lafe, Lafe,” he said with a small smile, his cheek darkening into a coming bruise. My eye didn’t feel much better, but the throb lessened some of the withdrawal.
“Stop patronizing me.”
“Stop thinking with that worthless spine you have. Or lack thereof. Vicente has already made his intentions clear on where he stands with us. Whether we get Amorette back or not, we’re blacklisted with the equivalent of a bounty on our heads.
And make no mistake, Vicente will have fun watching different factions of his men kill each other to bring him our heads.
The more pain and suffering they can cause before that happens is just a bonus. ”
I squeezed my eyes shut. We’d had this conversation. When we’d first taken Grey to that hotel room, when Parker confessed it was most likely his fault that Vicente put us on the chopping block. That was six days ago, however.
Six days of nothing. No attacks, no threats. Not even a whisper of where he’d taken Amorette, if he’d taken her at all.
The lack of action made this all seem like a fever dream. We could go on and live our pathetic limited existence.
Was Parker right? I almost laughed. Of course, he was. I was just sticking my head in the sand, leaving my ass exposed for a good fucking.
“What are you suggesting, Parker? What’s your plan? If you’re here, you’ve already tried to convince Andre. I’m not sure what getting me on board would accomplish.”
“Well, hermano , that’s the burning question that’s been plaguing my mind for years. The first step is getting Little Love back. For us to actually stand a chance at working together, we need her.”
A dark smile twisted the corner of my mouth, and I pushed a little payback at him. “You’re telling me the only reason you want to get Amorette back is so Grey will stop using you as his personal punching bag?” We all noticed his choice of…women since Killer walked into our lives.
But I wouldn’t bring that up now. I’d sit on it until it would be like tossing gasoline on a weak flame.
He grinned, catching me off guard. “I like Little Love. I never said I didn’t. It’s you assholes who walk around with all that ignorant panache.” he snorted as he waved a hand.
I gritted my teeth and pulled one knee to my chest. “How are you going to get her back? Andre has been trying to all week.” Parker was trying too. He wouldn’t sit on the sidelines; he just wouldn’t advertise it. But if he had been successful at all, he would have crowed it from the rooftop.
“I’m working on it. I put the feelers out with my most trusted men. Or at least, men who have something to lose.” He shrugged. “Who do you know, Lafe?”
“Who do I know?” Why was that even a question? I barely spoke to my men unless it was necessary. I certainly didn’t make friends. Absolutely didn’t trust them. Vincente probably had a third of my men on retainer to keep an eye on me.
“Vicente either took her somewhere alone or used only one soldier. There’s too much silence surrounding that night.
Who do you know in Vicente’s inner circle that we don’t?
You have to know someone. You can’t have grown up at the mansion with absolutely no connections. It’s not possible.” He shook his head.
“You have the wrong impression about me. That’s exactly what I did after…” I gulped. I still had nightmares. “I made it my mission to stay away from everyone.”
“Funny that you took Amorette despite that, isn’t it?” He smirked and pushed to his feet.
He was halfway to the door when I furrowed my brow. There was someone I knew at the mansion. But I didn’t trust him. I didn’t even know him. And it had been years since I’d thought about him. For all I knew, he could be dead by now.
But if we were grasping for straws, he might know something.
“There was this one kid. Around our age…”
Parker turned around with a wide smile plastered to his face. “Tell me more. Who is this mysterious kid?”
“A servant’s son. But the last time I saw him, he was in Vicente’s second tier.”
“And why would you think this man would be willing to give us any information? Assuming he’s still part of Vicente’s men.” Parker took a seat on the couch that was closest to me, his excitement palpable.
“Because when we were twelve, I saved his life.”