“Had I known she was yours, I would never have…..”
His words are cut off as I ball up my fist and deliver a punch to his nose that has bones cracking beneath my assault. The sound reverberates through me as I seek out another area on his body to break.
Victor tossed me a wary glance but he understood my reaction.
“Did you really just refer to our girl as a skank?”
The brutality in his voice had Benji shaking, a wet spot blooming out on the crotch of his jeans. Did this motherfucker just wet his pants? Fuck, I haven’t even begun having fun with him.
It was hard enough to imagine this cum stain felt himself worthy of such a fine woman with his pot belly, his greasy hair, and stained clothes. He reeked of sweat and sex, no doubt from the prisoners he held in the basement, ready to force them to service other men for his benefit. The fact one of those prisoners was fifteen hadn’t escaped us. The disgusting bastard deserved death. But he’d laid his greasy hands on our girl. For that, he deserved a fate for worse than death. And I was that fate.
I lept towards him, drawing my knife and carving a viscious line in the skin of his cheek. “Our mouse didn’t want to play so you tried to force your will on her. It wasn’t enough you have your harem of unwilling prostitutes, you had to focus on our girl. Our June.”
“You can have her, but good luck getting that frigid bitch to put out,” he blurted and I didn’t know if he somehow thought my father’s business with him would keep him alive, or if he was just that stupid.
“You’re insulting our girl again?” Victor asked, a vicious edge to his tone. He glanced over at me, thrusting his thumb toward Benji. “This guy really has no idea when to stop does he?”
“Look, I’ll give you anything you want. I have a safe full of cash…”
Victor shook his head. “We’ve already had that cleared out. I’m sure my father will be disappointed to learn you’d been holding out on him. I’ll be sure to let him know. But right now, the matter at hand is you’ve crossed the line. It offends us. So you’ll spend the next couple hours trying to convince my brother not to kill you. After that, we have a date with our girl. Good luck.” Victor bowed to the man, a mock show of respect but he’d given me everything I needed. He’d given me Benji’s death.
4
June
“June, did you hear me?”
Michelle’s shrill voice grated my nerves but I couldn’t help the way my stomach knotted up at the news. Benji was dead. I was out of a job.
“The police are here. They’re saying Benji had a bunch of girls locked up in the basement. I wasn’t even aware he had a basement. This has to be a set up. The Benji I know…”
“The Benji you knew never existed.” I cut her off. She’d had a high opinion of him after he’d rescued her from the homeless shelter and given her a job. He treated her like his daughter while he devastated the lives of other girls, including mine. Luckily, he’d never managed to catch me off guard, but it definitely wasn’t from lack of trying.
She huffed into the phone. “Without him I’d probably be out on the streets with a needle in my arm. How could you say that?”
“How can you praise a man that had girls chained up in his basement while he prostituted them out, keeping them so doped up they lost their minds. Not women, Michelle. Fucking girls. And he wanted me to join them after he had his way with me.”
“I’m sure those girls did something wrong for him to do that,” she spat back, with no care in the world what those poor girls had to endure. “Did you rat him out? I swear if you had anything to do with this…”
I disconnected the call, throwing the phone against the wall and watching it land on the floor unharmed. The girl was unsufferably selfish, her only concern was for the comforts he’d gifted her with. Settled in a nice one bedroom apartment without having a pay a single bill, he’d made sure she wanted for nothing. I’d often wondered what she traded for those comforts. The man I’d come to know would never do a kind deed without something in return, but that didn’t matter. None of it did. The girls he’d had in his basement were now free, hopefully being taken someplace to get the proper care and reintegrated into society. As for me, I never had to worry about him sexually harrassing me again.
They always said karma was a bitch and from what Michelle told me, karma was that bitch. They’d found Benji with holes drilled all over his body in a puddle of piss, shit, and blood. It was exactly what he deserved. I couldn’t bring myself to care about his death.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Hazel eyes stared back at me but they were rimmed with black, evidence of the long day I’d had with very little sleep. It was nothing concealer couldn’t fix. I dabbed the stuff under my eyes, working it into my skin. Once I was satisfied, I ran my fingers through my curls. The curls frothed around my shoulders with enough product to keep them tamed.
I wore a black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, showing off the perfect amount of cleavage and landing mid thigh. I wasn’t exactly skinny, something that used to bother the hell out of me until I’d learned to appreciate my body. It took a lot of work to keep myself slim and I’d decided long ago it wasn’t worth it. Besides, I loved my curves. Apparently I wasn’t the only one considering the offer laid in my lap.
They’d said sex was optional but I knew that was a lie. Five hundred grand was a lot of money to pay out with no expectations and, to be honest, I was intrigued. The thought of selling my body should have been abhorrent to me but at a young age, I learned that everyone had a price. My mother’s price had been her next hit. She’d often lied to my father, telling him she’d never go that far but we both knew the truth. We’d seen it when she returned from one of her benders, her lipstick smeared, her clothes disheveled. She didn’t even have the decency enough to shower after her escapades.
Her price was small, at least she’d felt that way. For me and my father, that price was too high with no reward that I could think of. There’d only been pain and loss but that didn’t matter now. What’s done is done, and all I cared about was making sure I didn’t have to pay the price for her misdeeds any further. With the amount of money offered, I could take care of her, as my father would have were he still alive and forge my own path in life. I could get out of the slums, put myself through college and never look back.
I picked up my phone to look at the time. I had fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to decide if I would really go through with this crazy plan or back out of it. Fifteen minutes to prepare myself for whatever task they’d set before me, whether it be sex or something far more demeaning. My father had been willing to risk it all to protect me and save my mother from her self-destructive ways but it hadn’t been enough. We’d lost it all anyway. And now, here I was trying to fix what was left of an already broken family. Sometimes I told myself it was because despite her faults, I loved my mother, but I knew that wasn’t true. I had no feelings toward the woman. I just wanted to do what I felt would make my father proud. That was it.
I pressed my hand to my abdomen, in that space just below the belly. The scar there was still sensitive to the touch, even after all these years, but I embraced that pain. I spoke to life snuffed out before he’d even had a chance to draw his first breath.
“One day, I’ll make all of this right for you,” I promised, remembering my father’s words.
While I’d been devastated by the loss, my father told me that child still lingered, waiting for the right time to show himself. A time when I’d pulled myself from my mother’s grasp and left the seedy world behind. A time when the father would be someone I loved instead of someone who’d stolen away my innocent for something that had zero to do with me. I’d believed him because I had no other choice. The alternative was knowing that he was lost to me forever and I couldn’t take that, no matter how hard my mother tried to convince me otherwise.
My father had hoped someone worthy would come along, someone worthy of me, to bring that child back to me, and I clung t
o that hope with a vice grip.
“I know this is leading me away from you, but I promise I’ll be better once this is done.”
And I would be. I’d take the money and relieve myself of my obligations to my mother. I’d find my peace and fall in love. Then, I’d have my son.
The doorbell rang and anticipation rumbled through me. Primping myself in the mirror one final time, I made my way to the door.
Standing opposite of me was a large man, dressed in an expensive black suit with a purple tie. It was the same man who’d delivered the proposal. His blonde hair was slicked away from a babyish face, giving him an appearance of innocence, but I knew he was anything but. I could sense it in the way he stood, his back ramrod straight as he gestured towards the limo waiting for me. There was danger in his blue eyes and the way his muscles bunched beneath his suit. He’d taken a life or two. I could tell by the ease in which he wore that mask of indifference, the way his gaze slid around the place as if waiting for someone to pop out of the bushes and deliver a challenge.
That soft intensity to his demeanor had me on edge but I shook those feelings off. I was already stepping into a lion’s den and I needed to keep my wits about me.
Straightening my stance, I gave him a nod of understanding and stepped outside, locking the door before sauntering towards the limo.
He rushed past me and opened the door for me, waiting patiently as I climbed in. Once I’d stepped in, he closed the door, effectively sealing the deal. There was no turning back.
I pulled my phone from my bag, pressing a few buttons to look at a picture of the brothers. Just like before, I was hit with this strange sense that I’d seen them before though I couldn’t recall when or where. I searched my mind, trying to come up with something but nothing came. That should have been a problem for me. In my experience, I’d only ever forgotten one significant event in my life, the event that had led to my father’s death. My psychiatrist thought it was my brain’s way of protecting me from something I couldn’t cope with, but that gave me little comfort. I wished I could remember. Even knowing what happened to me that night, I wanted to know every detail of what my mother had done to cause my father’s death.
Flashes of memory came to me, all of them dark and fluttering by so fast I couldn’t grasp any of them. The same thing happened the first time I’d looked at a photo of the brothers. From what I understood of that night, I’d suffered a great deal and if either of them were a part of it, I was sure I’d recognize them immediately. At least I hoped I would. My psychiatrist had assured me I’d know my tormenter the moment I laid eyes on him, and I believed her. She had no reason to lie to me, considering she wasn’t being paid enough to even treat me.
Still, trepidation slid through me when the car came to a halt before Rizo’s, an expensive Mexican restaurant I’d picked out for the meeting. The driver exited the car, made his way to my door and pulled it open, pushing out a hand and offering me a hand out. I took his hand, marveling at how soft it was. Before I could think about it any further, he curled his fingers around my hand and tugged me from the car.
“Give them your name. They should direct you to the Valentine brothers’ private room in the back. Go directly to them. If you’re stopped for any reason,” he pulled a small device from his pocket and held it up for me to see it. The square was black metal with a red button in the center. “Press this button and I’ll come escort you.”
He pressed the device into my hand, his penetrating gaze telling me it was important I follow instructions.
I gave him a stiff nod and walked past him to the door, not even thinking about the device as I slid it into my purse. A host dressed in a dark suite with a red bow stopped me as I walked into a restaurant I knew I’d never be able to afford to eat with my salary. Or lack of now that I was out of a job and my boss was dead. Had I wanted to crawl back and beg for my job back, his death made that impossible.
Another reason I need to go through with this, I thought to myself.
“Maam, can I help you?” His bored tone told me everything I needed to know about the host. He wasn’t impressed, probably sensing I wasn’t made of money like most who frequented this restaurant.
“My name is…”
“There is a burger joint down the street. Nothing in this restaurant is less than a hundred dollars and every diner is required to give the waitstaff at least a twenty percent tip.”
He slid his gaze behind me, completely dismissing me.
“I’m sure if you just look at the list, you’ll see I have reservations here. My name is…”
“Maam, if you would excuse me, we are expecting a special guest here this evening.”
He didn’t even look at me. Anger clawed its way through me and I clenched my fists at my side. “Nevermind, I’ll find my own way.”
I shoved past him, my eyes seeking out anyone who could direct me to my dates, when his fingers curled around my arm tight enough to leave a bruise. I tugged away from him, spinning around to deliver a lip splitting smack. His lips curled into a vicious smile as he tightened his grip, tugging me back toward the door.
“You people are all alike,” he snarled as I reached into my purse to grab the device the driver had given me.
Before I could press the button, his hand fell from my arm as his eyes widened. At first, I thought it was the small device that caused him to tremble in fear, raising his hands to the air in surrender, but his eyes were locked on something or someone within the restaurant.
I spun on my heel, my eyes landing on two pairs of dark eyes, each trained on the host in angry gazes that had goosebumps rising on my arms. Danger swam in those dark pools as they stalked towards us, their eyes focussed solely on one person. The host, who was now stepping away from me, tossing out apologies I barely registered as I focused on the two brothers who were far hotter in person than they were in their photos. Vincent was dressed in a dark suit that clung to every dip and plane of defined muscle as if it were painted on him. His dark hair was cut short at the side, the long strands on top a beautiful mess of dark curls on top of a face that had heat pooling low in my belly. The man was fucking hot, as if chiseled to perfection by the gods. His full lips were pressed into a tight line as he glanced past me, snatching up the host and hauling him away from me. Victor walked directly up to me, in an equally impressive gray suit. He reached for my wrist, tugging it upward as he inspected the red marks on my arm. Heat flared in his gaze as he released my arm, his attention no longer on me but on the host who was desperately pleading with his manager to call the police.
“You left a mark on her,” Victor spat out, sliding a possessive hand around my waist and drawing me close to him. His earthy scent fell over me as I was tucked against his side.
Vincent wrapped his hand around the boy’s neck, shoving him up against his podium.
“Now, wait a minute, guys,” his manager, a short stalky man stuttered, flicking his gaze between the brothers. “I’m sure Henry had no idea she belonged to you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have…”
“Put his hands on our girl?” Vincent finished the sentence for him, as his grip tightened around the boy’s neck.
“Please, he’s my son. Is there some way we could work this out?”
“Sure. I’ll take the hand that offended her.”
A gasp escaped my lips at his words. I looked up at Victor, hoping he’d intervene when Vincent removed a knife from his side, but he said nothing. He simply looked on, his dark gaze trained on the boy as if he’d kill him for even looking at me.
“Is he really going to cut off the boy’s hand? That feels a bit excessive, right?” I asked.
Victor didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled away from me, walked up to his brother and whispered something in his ear. Vincent tensed up as his eyes reached mine, a strange emotion flitting across those dark depths before a salacious grin curved his lips.
“Seems our girl here doesn’t want to see this asshole dismembered. So how about this? We’ll leave
him intact, for now,” he said, keeping his attention focused on me. “And since her heart was in trying the food here, we’ll allow you to send over your best dishes. If she doesn’t absolutely enjoy her meal, I’ll carve up your son and feed him to you. Understood?”
The manager nodded his agreement, wiping the sweat from his brow. Without looking away from me, Vincent released his hold on the boy before stalking toward me and grabbing my hand. He led me from the restaurant and out to the car where the driver was waiting with the door open.
I climbed into the car, releasing a breath I didn’t remember holding. My mind was twisted in knots as worry settled over me. Would he really follow through with that promise? It seemed a bit excessive considering I wasn’t really harmed, but before I could think further, Vincent had his hand curled around the driver’s neck.
“Next time, you escort her in,” he admonished before releasing the driver and climbing into the car with me.
5
June
The drive to their apartment was uncomfortably silent, but it gave me the time I needed to reconsider the agreement between us. Where I was comfortable before, the scene at the restaurant was enough to cause anxiety to quicken my heart rate and form a lump in my throat. It was all too much.
Sure, the host had been out of line, judging me without giving me a chance to so much as give him my name. But was it worth this? I couldn’t be sure but in a small way, I was grateful they’d stood up for me. Being judged by my appearance wasn’t knew to me, especially being a latino woman growing up in a rough neighborhood in the city. I was used to the sideways glares, people following me around stores to make sure I didn’t steal anything, and people treating me like I couldn’t afford anything. Still, I wondered just how dangerous they were.
Supernatural Syndicate: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Mafia Stories Page 46