by Bella J
“Shut it off,” Slither started, glancing my way, “just like I taught you.”
I nodded. “Just like you taught me.”
Blood stained the white sheets draped over my bed. My dress was torn and smeared with red too. I had woken up on the filthy bedding, my head aching along with the rest of my body. I felt groggy, weak, like I had eaten spoiled food again. But the blood? I wasn’t sure where it came from. Why did it hurt down there?
I couldn’t sit up, so I remained on my side, tears streaming down my face turning the white sheets a light shade of gray with every drop. It was too sore to move, and I tried to call someone, but the words wouldn’t form inside my head. It wouldn’t come out.
I had no idea how I ended up in my room. The last thing I remembered was being in the dining room, staring at my second slice of cake. But I didn’t eat it…because he was there. Daddy’s friend. The man who killed the butterflies.
A sharp pain jabbed between my thighs, shooting up my tummy. It burned everywhere, like the night Mommy’s cigarette burned the top of my hand. Only this was a thousand times worse. Like a thousand of Mommy’s cigarettes were burning all over my body, all at once.
I clutched my tummy and cried into the pillow. I didn’t know what happened to me, why I was so sore, but I knew it was something wrong. This wasn’t how a big girl was supposed to feel. I wasn’t supposed to bleed there.
I had no memories of what happened, but the longer I lay there, the more images started to flash before my eyes.
His face.
His eyes.
His hands.
The noises he made.
It was wrong.
Everything was wrong, and I wanted it to stop. I’d rather not remember.
“Dahlia?”
For a moment, I didn’t recognize his voice.
“Dahlia, it’s Glenn.”
I felt him place his hand on my ankle, and I didn’t know why, but the second he touched me, I jerked away, scrambling with my achy body to the top of the bed. Away from him. Away from someone touching me.
“Dahlia. I won’t hurt you. Please.”
I pushed my face deeper into the pillow, my breathing fast and out of control, like I had just run all the way home from school.
“Dahlia, let me help you.”
I wiped the tears away, looking at my brother standing next to my bed. “He hurt me.” Finally, I managed to say something.
“I know.” A tear slowly slipped down his cheek, and he crouched beside me, his eyes level with mine.
“Did he hurt you too?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I sniffed, wiping at my nose.
“But Dad’s other friends…they hurt me.”
“Why?” I didn’t understand why they would want to hurt us.
“Because they’re bad people.”
I placed my chin on the pillow, looking at my brother. “That’s why you didn’t smile.”
He stared back at me, more tears running down his cheeks, a big blue bruise protruding from the side of his face.
“You didn’t smile because you knew Daddy’s friend would hurt me. That’s why you didn’t eat your cake.”
The mattress dipped, and Glenn got on the bed with me, lying down on top of the bloodstains, hiding it. I liked that he could take it away.
He took my hand while he kept looking at me. “You know what I do when they start hurting me?”
I shook my head.
“I use my superpower.”
“You don’t have a superpower, silly.”
He smiled. “I do. I turn into a snake.”
“A snake?”
He nodded. “A snake can shed its skin. That’s what I do when they come for me. I shed my skin and slither away so they can’t hurt me.”
I swallowed, my mouth feeling dry. “How?”
His thumb drew lazy circles on my hand. “By closing my eyes, and then I imagine it.”
“Imagining you have a superpower doesn’t count,” I protested.
“Of course it does. If you imagine something hard enough, it can really happen.”
I watched our hands joined together. “Where do you go…when you slither away?”
“Somewhere they can’t find me. But you’re there.”
“I am?” I couldn’t help but smile. I liked that he took me with him whenever he used his superpower to get away from the bad people.
He smiled back at me, but just like when we had cake, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll always take you with me, no matter where I go.”
That made me feel better. It stilled the pain a bit, knowing he would never leave me behind. But then I realized what he was really saying.
“Mom and Dad are going to bring more bad people here…aren’t they?”
His smile faltered, replaced with hard lines. “Yes, Dahlia. They are.”
“I wish I had a superpower that can make me go back in time.”
“Yeah,” he said softy, “then you can make it so this never happened.”
I shook my head, biting the inside of my cheek. “No. I would go back in time to make a different wish when I blow out my birthday candles.”
His eyes glimmered with tears. “What did you wish for?”
“I wished that I’d have a birthday like this one every year.” I closed my eyes. “But I don’t want that anymore. I want to wish that this birthday never happened.”
“Don’t,” he warned with a hard yet soft voice. “Don’t ever allow yourself to go back and imagine how things could have been. It only makes it worse. Just…” He swallowed. “Just turn into a snake. Slither away, and only come back once the bad people are gone.”
“I can’t,” I cried. “I’m not as strong as you. I don’t have a superpower.”
“Then you turn it off. You hear me?” He let go of my hand, placing his palm on my cheek. “Then you turn your mind off, shut it all down. Don’t feel. Don’t hear. And don’t think. Be a void. Be nothing. In those moments, be. Nothing. Can you do that?”
I pinched my eyes closed as tears now ran uncontrollably down my cheeks.
“Dahlia, look at me.”
I opened my eyes, his face blurry.
“Can you do that? Please, promise me you’ll do that every time you’re forced to do something you don’t want to do. Shut it. Off.”
There was only enough strength left in me to give a slight nod. I was suddenly tired, my eyes heavy and body weak.
“Glenn?”
“Yeah?”
I smiled sleepily. “I’m glad you didn’t eat cake.”
“Why is that?”
“Because then Daddy’s friend would have hurt you too.”
Silence. He didn’t say anything, and I was too weak to talk any more. I just wanted the darkness to take me, because the farther I slipped into the void, the nothingness Glenn had told me about, the more the pain dissipated.
I felt his hand brush against my cheek. “Sleep, little sis. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I wiped my nose on the pillow before nestling deeper into it. Sleep was lessening the pain—not just the pain between my legs, but the pain in my chest too.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed, and I managed to open my eyes in time to see a tear slip between his lips. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them.”
I closed my eyes again.
“But I promise, when I’m big enough, I’ll stop them. And then no one will ever hurt you again. Do you believe me?”
I simply nodded, my cheeks rubbing against the rough fabric of my pillow.
“Dahlia, say you believe me.”
“I believe you,” I whispered. “I believe you.”
The butterflies never came back after that day. And neither did I.
It was easy to spot Crow among the rest of the crew. He was the biggest, meanest looking motherfucker in the front. Arrogance and power clung to him like a second skin, his superiority easil
y spotted. Sleek, long hair, the color of midnight, hung down his back between his shoulder blades in a low-tied ponytail. His beard was as dark as his hair, his cheeks cleanly shaven, leaving a thick chin strap along his jawline. When he got off his hog, I stopped breathing as I watched him straighten his big frame.
Slither wasn’t kidding when he said this man was the worst of the bad. It radiated off him, the malice and wickedness.
Wearing faded black jeans, leather cut, and black shirt, he oozed more power than any Wall Street suit.
I swallowed hard, the mere sight of him intimidating me, letting my confidence falter. And all I could think about was Onyx, seeing his face, feeling his touch. How good it felt to be with him. “Slither,” I turned to him, “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. And you fucking will.”
I shook my head. “Don’t make me do this, please.”
“Do not start this fucking bullshit,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “You are doing this, or I swear to fucking God, I will hurt you more than anyone has ever hurt you before.”
I stumbled back, his words hitting me square in the chest. If there ever was someone who knew how badly I had been hurt before in my life, it was him. For him to threaten to hurt me worse than that…it was horrifying.
“Glenn, what’s gotten into you?”
He moved in front of me, blocking me from the Sixes. Angry eyes glared at me with a kind of hate that crawled all the way up my spine. “I fucking warned you not to call me that.” He grabbed my wrist, twisting it up between us, pressing our bodies against each other.
“You’re hurting me.”
“You’re testing my patience, little sister. I swear to motherfucking God, if you don’t do this job, I’m going to hurt you so much more than this.”
I lifted my chin in defiance. “Who are you? Because you sure as hell ain’t my brother anymore.”
“That’s right.” He tightened his grip, leaning down, stoning me with his whispered words. “Right now, I’m your fucking God, and you will do as I say.”
He let go of me, gently easing back, making sure no one witnessed the animosity that pulsed like a heartbeat between us.
“Now pull your shit together and get your head in the game.”
I glanced at him, the warning clear in his eyes. Disappoint him, and I would regret it.
Slither’s men rounded us as he approached Crow. I couldn’t hear what they were saying as they leaned close together. Slither always made sure I was never on the hearing end of any of his business conversations. But he didn’t know I was on the hearing end back at the Kings’ compound, hearing things about a man I didn’t know. A man who was supposedly my brother, yet…I hardly recognized him anymore. It became all the more clear that the man before me now was no longer the boy who swore to protect me, but rather a power-hungry, cruel, and vindictive monster who thrived on the pain of others.
Slither waved me over, and I steeled myself, draping a veil of fake confidence over my shoulders. I walked toward them, sashaying my hips and crossing my feet like I fucking owned every step. Clutching my purse and flicking my hair over my shoulder, I pulled on my game face.
“Crow, meet Wraith. One of my girls.” He looked me in the eye. “But tonight…she’s your girl.”
Chapter Eighteen
Onyx
“God, I hate these motherfucking cages,” Manic complained, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Why are we here, again?”
I stared out the window at the neon sign illuminated against the night sky. “If Dutch’s info is correct, Slither will have to distract Crow tonight if he wants his shipment to come in without the Sixes getting eyes on it.”
“Still don’t get why we’re on the outside of a goddamn strip club, and not on the inside.”
“It’s called a stakeout, you dumb fuck. If we’re in there, we might as well call it a suicide.”
“Dying among bare titties sounds like a good way to go to me.”
I scowled at him, not even sure that remark deserved any type of response. “Shut up and keep your eyes peeled, okay?”
“Fine. It just feels wrong to sit here while there are two dozen naked girls on the inside of that building. You know,” he held up a hand, “I bet if Ink were here, we’d be tucking Benjamins into teeny-tiny little thongs right about now. He’s always been the fun one.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think that Ink exists anymore.”
To say Ink was pissed at me for leaving him behind was an understatement. But the way his anger started to control him more and more, I wasn’t sure I could trust him to keep it together. Right now, we couldn’t afford any mistakes. I couldn’t chance it.
“Hey,” Manic pointed to the door, “isn’t that Slither?”
I narrowed my eyes, staring at the figure in the distance. “Yeah, that’s him. The ugly fuck.” That was a face I could recognize a mile away.
A car stopped in front of the building, and I pulled out my phone to take some images.
“Who’s the girl?” Manic asked, both of us watching as a woman in a red mini dress approached him, her back toward us.
“I have no idea.”
Manic whistled in appreciation. “Look at those motherfucking fine legs.”
I just rolled my eyes, hoping Manic could keep his dick in his pants long enough.
Shifting in my seat, I held up my phone, trying to zoom in to get some better images. But the goddamn streetlight in the back was fucking up the lighting, distorting the pictures.
“Oh, I know that sound,” Manic said excitedly when the rumble of hog engines came from the distance.
“It’s gotta be the Sixes.” I straightened as adrenaline manifested in my veins. I was right. Slither was keeping the Sixes busy, distracting them while he had his men take care of the shipment of snow coming in.
I dialed Granite’s number, keeping my eyes on Slither and the woman in the red dress. Granite answered on the first ring. “Yeah?”
“Tell me you got something, brother.”
“Oh, shit’s going down right now. A truck is getting filled with snow as we speak.”
I bit my lip, feeling fucking euphoric at the prospects that we might have Slither by the motherfucking balls.
“Get as many pictures as possible. And we were right. Slither is distracting Crow and his crew.”
“Fucker thinks he can outsmart us.”
I leaned back in the seat. “We got him, brother. We got him.”
I hung up, eyes still glued on the scene in front of me. Crow got off his hog, and I was focused on Slither walking toward him when something caught my eye. The woman in red, her arm was covered in a sleeve tattoo, and something seemed oddly familiar about her.
I grabbed my phone and zoomed in on the woman—more specifically, her tattooed arm. I snapped the picture and leaned back, studying the image.
“What you got?” Manic leaned over.
“The girl,” I zoomed in on the picture I took, “she seems familiar to you?”
Manic stared at the image. “Nah. But she’s fit as fuck, though.”
There was something about her. I couldn’t place it. I looked back out the window, holding the phone to take more pictures when she flipped her hair over her shoulder…and time just fucking stopped.
“Wraith.”
“What?” Manic scooted over to get a better look.
“It’s Wraith.”
“No way.”
“Jesus.” Without thinking twice, I jumped out of the van and darted across the street.
“Yo, Onyx. What the fuck, man?” Manic followed. “Get back in the fucking van. Jesus Christ.”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t get back in the van because that woman in the red dress was my fucking woman. How the fuck did Slither get to her?
“Onyx, man. What the fuck are you doing?”
I started rushing. “I’m not about to let him hurt another one of our girls.”
“Stop, okay? Let’s call Granite and Dutch firs
t before we rush over there and get our asses handed to us.”
I reached behind my back, pulling out my gun. This motherfucker was going down tonight, and I didn’t give a shit whether the entire Sixes crew was here. The closer I got, the clearer I saw her face. It was her, but she looked different. Her hair was different, her make-up was different. And the fact that she was wearing a mini dress and heels made no fucking sense. Where were her jeans? Her boots? Her motherfucking bad-ass expression? The sleeve tattoo on her arm was about the only thing I recognized about her.
“Onyx, stop! Jesus,” I heard Manic curse behind me, “I always knew a motherfucking woman would get him killed one day.”
There was a soft little voice inside my head urging me to retreat, to step back and stay in the shadows. The president of the American Street Kings knew it was foolish to go into the snake pit without backup, without a fucking plan. But the man in me, the man who marked that woman standing there, made her his, that man was ready to pull a Juggernaut on all their motherfucking asses, wrecking through them in order to get her as far away from Slither as possible.
My feet hit pavement, and I felt the adrenaline burst through my insides. “Wraith.”
She turned. “Onyx?”
I aimed my gun right at Slither, who stood closely next to her. “Step away from her, man.”
“Onyx, stop.” She tried to step in between Slither and me, but I moved to the side, gun aimed, rage loaded, and finger ready to pull the motherfucking trigger.
“You die tonight, you sick bastard.”
Slither started cackling like a maniac, and I’d never seen his expression filled with so much amusement before.
“Onyx.” Wraith jumped in front of me.
I gave her a quick once-over. “Did he hurt you? Did this fucker hurt you?”
“No, he didn’t hurt me.”
“He’s still fucking dying.” I straightened my arm, finger on the trigger. It was all happening so fast, not even Crow and his crew had a chance to intervene.
“Onyx. Stop!” Wraith’s voice cracked through the night, drowning out all the noise. When I looked at her, I could see her complexion had paled and the shock that shackled her blue irises. Something wasn’t right, here. I could feel it in my gut. From the corner of my eye, I saw Crow cross his arms while Slither stepped closer to Wraith.