Chapter 33 #2
“This world’s gonna try to break you. Promise you’ll do whatever you can so it doesn’t.” His eyes searched mine, making sure I understood.
“Dad, I…” but I wasn’t sure what to say.
I still don’t.
“You’re better than I ever was.” He smiled at me, pulled me in, hugging me. “No matter what you do, where you go, who you become, I’ll always be proud of you.”
“You say that now.”
He pulled back, looked right into my eyes, and shook his head. “Always. You’ll always make me proud. Just like your brothers have always made me proud.”
“But…” I stopped, looking at him confused. He hasn’t spoken to Zeke in well over a year.
“The 3 of you are the most important thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
I looked at him. Knowing the significance of that. He turns to look back at the car as he continues to put the trunk back together.
“You never answered my question.”
He stopped, shook his head, and looked back at me.
“No, he wouldn’t.” Mom’s voice echoed off the walls as she walked into the garage.
Dad stood, turned around, leaned against the car, and watched her, curiosity lining his face, as she continued to walk toward us.
“One part is, if you had to kill someone, then he feels like he wouldn’t have done his job right.
Because he should have done it for you.” She glanced over at him, to him nodding his head.
“But if something happened, and you killed someone yourself, he wouldn’t want you to know where the body was, or how he got rid of it. Plausible deniability.”
He nodded his head. “I’d do it for you.”
“No questions asked?”
He just nodded his head.
“Why?”
He looked at my mother, who smirked and nodded, encouraging him to finish.
“Because I know there’d be a reason.”
“But what if it isn’t a good reason?”
He chuckled, wrapped his arm around my mom, and pulled her closer to him. “I’m sure I’ve done it for less. It’s not up to me to decide what reason’s good enough for you.”
“Killing someone,” Mom started, “isn’t easy to do unless you see no other way out.”
“Or to protect family.”
They both looked at me, surprised, but nodded their heads. “Exactly.”
* * *
I’m brought back into the present as the car rolls to a stop and the engine dies.
“Shit,” I whisper to myself, preparing for whatever’s about to happen.
I can hear the footsteps coming closer to the trunk.
The key in the lock.
The lock unlatching.
And the creaking of the lid opening.
“Fuck,” I gasp out, the light gleaming overhead causing me to shut my eyes tight to keep it from blinding me.
No, not sunlight. Lights on the ceiling in a parking garage.
Two men with ski masks are standing, looking down, staring at me.
“Thought you’d be more of a fighter.” The one on the right asks.
“Why’d I give you the satisfaction of that?” I glare at them. “I’m not afraid of you.”
I’m yanked upwards by my shoulders, my head hitting the metal, not quite clearing the opening, before the other man grabs my legs.
This time I attempt to lash out.
“Thought you weren’t afraid?”
“Go fuck yourself!” I snap back at him, spitting in his face.
I’m falling.
It’s only a second, but fells like forever before I actually hit.
My back slamming against the concrete before my head follows.
I groan out, making the man laugh before he comes over, kneeling down.
I can only imagine the absurdity of how it looks. He’s kneeling down, looking at me, as my back and head are lying on the ground, and my feet are still being held up.
“Learned your lesson?”
“Fuck you!” I snap back, making him laugh again.
Turning, he looks at his comrade and nods his head.
My feet are dropped as well.
Screaming out as the foot slams into my ribcage.
Kneeling down, he looks at me again.
“Ya know, your daddy did us a favor.”
“What’s… that…” I force out, pushing down the pain of what I’m sure is at least one broken rib.
“He kept you naive. He didn’t prepare you for this.”
“Help!” I scream out, even though my ribs scream at me to stop.
“No one can hear you.” He laughs again, kneeling down.
“Bullshit.” I glare at him again. “Help!” I scream even louder this time.
“Shut her the hell up.” I hear a different man call from across the garage.
I scream out this time as a second blow to the ribs comes, and if some weren’t broken before, they definitely are now. Only this time, I don’t stop screaming. Forcing every ounce of energy I have to alert anyone around that something’s happening.
The comrade comes back over to me and I see it before he gets it near. The tape in his hand.
Turning my head quickly as he tries to place it over my mouth. Opening wide, so that even if he gets close, it still won’t be shut.
I gag as I taste the dirt on his finger.
It only takes a second before I bite down right on the knuckle.
He screams out this time, trying to pull his hand back, but I grit down harder before thrashing my head from side to side, as if I were a dog playing with a toy.
“What the fuck!” he shouts, attempting to pull his hand back, but only making it worse. “Get her the fuck off me.”
The first asshole grips my hair, pulling me backwards, but only making it worse. His comrade’s howling, only amplifying with each strand of hair I feel pulled out of my scalp. The slight tearing I hear fuels my thrashing until the asshole and I are falling backwards.
I land on top of the asshole as shrieks come from feet away.
“She bit my fucking finger off!”
Asshole shoves me off him, forcing me to the ground with a thud.
I’m keeping myself controlled.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouts at me.
I’m hoisted up by each shoulder by 2 men. Righting me and coming face to face with Asshole. As soon as I see him, I feel as if my father’s presence possesses my body.
I spit back into his face.
And I can’t help but laugh when the finger hits him in the eye.
I’m sure there’s blood on my face. I’m sure making me look psychotic.
“What a fucking pussy.”
Asshole tilts his head, looking at me. I can read in his eyes that he knows exactly what I was doing earlier, and realizing that he has no fucking clue who he’s dealing with.
But he should have.
That’s what they all get for thinking I’m naive.
“What?” I laugh out loud. “You realize your way in over your fucking head?”
“Realizing you’re batshit crazy, yeah, but I have a way to deal with that.”
“How?” I laugh again.
“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he tells me as he steps closer.
“Wha —”
* * *
I’m groggy as the back of the van opens. Flashes as I’m hoisted out. Men in black hoodies, black ski masks, and boots, doors opening and closing. Screaming out as I’m tossed over someone’s shoulder, my ribs making contact and causing my eyes to roll back into my head again.
No, stop. Stay awake.
Keeping my eyes closed, I wait as my consciousness becomes more reliable.
There’s footsteps echoing around me, but I’m unsure of how many men are here.
Maybe I should take that as a good sign.
Counting the stairs as we round each set of them.
Once we’re on the third floor, we leave the stairwell. Peeking my eyes open, I try to take in as much as I can. I see shoes behind me, maybe two. I’m sure there’s at least 2 in front. The man carrying me has a gun holstered at his side.
Moron.
Knowing I have to take my moment even if nothing comes of it. Slamming my knee into the man’s chest, hitting bone, hoping I’m breaking his ribs just as they did mine. In the same motion, I grab hold of the gun, lifting it up and aiming at one ski mask.
The gunfire masks the sound of my chauffeur’s scream.
Grabbing me by the back of my shirt and slamming me hard onto the ground, I gasp as all the air knocks out of me.
“Goddamnit,” someone shouts ahead of us. “It’s a fucking girl. She’s what? A foot shorter than you are and weighs at least half.”
“It’s like she’s fucking feral!”
If I could get any air into my lungs, I’d laugh at that and thank him.
Calm down.
I hear my mother’s voice again.
Breathe. You’re okay. Just breathe.
Screaming out as soon as I regain the ability to, as the stinging on my head starts again and I’m being pulled backwards.
I’m flung into a room as the man continues into the middle. “See, you’re not gonna cause trouble, are you?”
“Fuck off.” I grumble out still just now being able to form words.
“Wrong answer.”
I scream out, fighting against him as two other ski masks come in, grabbing my arms. I’m still lashing out, striking them as hard as possible.
Grunted before my head’s yanked backwards, again. The necklace feels as if it’s cutting into my throat.
A stinging starts.
“What the fuck!” I scream, looking down at where the man’s jamming a needle into my arm. “No!” I gasp again. “Please… don’t… no…”
My surroundings slow down, my body refusing to move, my eyes fighting against me to roll back.