by Quinn Ryder
“Oh, now you want to play tough, huh? Don’t forget, I’m not the one with a dagger in my leg.” She grabbed the handle of the blade in my thigh and pushed it down deeper.
This time I couldn’t hold back my screams.
“That’s it, scream for me, Fe. Show everyone what a scared and frightened pussy you really are.” She pulled at the blade, pulling it up a little. Blood rushed out of the wound, my screams echoing through the chamber they put me in.
Marco came up behind her and pulled her off me. “If you pull that knife out, she’ll die. I shoved that shit pretty deep, it’s near her femoral artery and if I severed it, that knife is the only thing keeping her alive right now. You can’t pull it yet; I’m not done playing with her.”
Angelique’s bottom lip jutted out. “Don’t you want to play with me?”
Marco tipped her chin back. “Of course, Mi Malvada, but this bitch has it coming, and I want to fucking plant my seed in her before I leave her for dead.”
“You’re not touching me,” I yelled, battling the pain-stricken tears slithering down my face.
Marco moved forward. His slimy hands reached up my shirt and grabbed the nipple of my left breast, twisting it until it felt like he was about to pop it off. I cried out, unable to hide the pain.
“I can touch you as much as I want. Nobody knows you’re here and nobody’s going to come save you before I pull that knife out of that leg. By the time they get here, you’ll be dead, but it wouldn’t be fun for me if you were dead. Necrophilia isn’t my thing, it’s yours,” he whispered the last part in my ear creating an uneasy feeling deep down in the pits of my stomach.
I tried to block the image from my mind, but it came back full force, this time my tears were filled with fear and guilt, regret swirled around me as I tried to block out Alejandro’s cold, lifeless eyes staring blankly through me as Diego threw me down naked on top of Alejandro’s cold, dead body. A nervous shiver ran up my spine and I tried to think of something else—anything to keep that image from resurfacing again.
I began picturing Midas—the real Midas—the Midas that crawled out of a grave and resurfaced in my life when I needed him most. It’s almost like I could feel his gentle touch traversing my body. His beard tickled my skin—his inked arms wrapping around me until I’m enveloped in the safety of his embrace. I’d give anything to be with him right now, to trace that ink with my tongue or my fingertips and feel the man I love hold me once more. I can’t believe that he’s been in my life for almost three months and I didn’t even know it. I should feel betrayed and lied to, but in this moment, all that matters to me is that Midas is alive, and I’m praying he can hear my silent pleas and save me before it’s too late.
Marco walked across the room and grabbed Angelique. They started kissing passionately. I closed my eyes as his hands moved down her body, fitting between her legs. They may want me to be a part of this fucked up threesome, but I’m not a willing party, and there’s no way I’m going to watch this shit unless someone forces my eyes open.
Angelique’s erotic moans were like the grating squeak of Styrofoam being manhandled. I hated that sound; it was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard for me. The slapping came next, and I knew they were fucking.
“Aww look, the little prude has her eyes closed,” Angelique laughed. “I want her to watch, Marco.”
Marco was too busy grunting to care what Angelique wanted. He didn’t strike me as the type of man that cared about a woman’s wants. He only cared about himself.
I kept my eyes closed, blocking out the grotesque sounds coming from the other side of the room
“Yes, baby, fuck me!” Angelique yelled.
Then I heard Marco’s ferocious grunt as he finished inside of her.
“That’s all?” Angelique whined.
“Gotta save some for the queen, baby. You can’t have all the fun.”
I heard Marco’s heavy footsteps walk across the room. My eyes were pinched shut, and I refused to open them.
“Open your eyes, bitch. See what’s in store for you.”
When I didn’t open my eyes, he punched me in the jaw, I briefly opened my eyes, enough to see Marco’s hard cock close to my mouth. My jaw throbbed, but I wasn’t going to give in without a fight. I forced my eyes closed again, keeping my mouth even tighter.
“Time to see what a real queen tastes like, Bitch. Angelique, grab her head and force this bitch’s mouth open. I want to fuck that pretty little mouth of hers before I take her pussy for a spin.”
No, I’ll fucking do anything but that.
I didn’t want him or Angelique anywhere near me. Angelique came up behind me, her nails digging into my face. I fought the pain, refusing to open anything that they wanted me to. I felt Marco’s breath against my face, his hand gripped the blade in my thigh, and he twisted it.
“Don’t make me pull this blade, Queenie, you won’t live if I do that. Open that mouth or I’ll force it open.”
My lips parted and I hissed as the blade dug even further into my leg. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to scream, my body wouldn’t do anything else.
“That’s it, baby, open that mouth so I can fuck it.” Marco grabbed my head, his cock inches away from my face. I couldn’t stop it; this was about to happen and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. They had won. Nobody was coming to save me. Every shred of my humanity was being stolen away from me, and there was nothing I could do except give in to their demands and hope I survived the night.
BANG!
The door to the room flew open, followed by a series of gun shots.
My eyes flew open, just in time to see Marco’s naked body fly across the room. Angelique cowered behind me, using my body as a human shield.
Ice stormed the room, his gun pointed at Marco. “Don’t make me shoot you, Motherfucker. All we want is the girl.”
Marco was standing in the corner of the room. He was hunched over abnormally, and for a second I thought Ice had already shot him, but I was wrong. Marco pulled out a pistol, whipped around, and aimed it at Ice, firing without warning. Ice barrel rolled into the room, kicking over the shitty lamp, causing the bulb to shatter the second it touched the ground. Suddenly the room was nothing but darkness. A second body entered the room, followed by a third. I could see their shadows as they entered through the doorway.
Through the darkness sparks of white light appeared out of nowhere, as guns were fired.
“Stop!” Angelique screamed, suddenly appearing by my side. “You shoot him, and I’ll pull this knife. It’s the only thing keeping her alive.”
A light switched on and I had to close my eyes because the lights above me were blinding. When I finally was able to focus, I found Cipher standing near the wall, his gun pointed directly at Marco who was wounded on the floor, gun aimed at Ice’s head. If Ice was afraid, he didn’t show it. His gun was pointed right back at Marco ready to shoot on command. Scythe, Switchblade, and Midas were in the room as well, all of them had their guns pointed directly at Angelique.
I stared at the man who had entered my life as a stranger, seeing him through new eyes. He may have been half the size he used to be, but I could see him for who he really was now.
Midas is alive, and he came to save me.
“We just want, Faith. Let her go, and we won’t kill anyone,” Scythe growled, his eyes trained on me. I could see the worry creasing his brow. He eyed the knife in my thigh before meeting my eyes again.
Angelique was breathing heavy. The woman standing next to me had nothing to lose and I knew right then that she had no plans to let me leave here alive. Her hand gripped the knife. She briefly glanced at Marco who gave her a nod of approval.
“Don’t do it,” Midas yelled. “I’ll fucking shoot you.”
“Midas!” I cried out. “Shoot her before it’s too late!”
Angelique’s fingers clenched the hilt of the blade. “I’d rather die than see this bitch live one more day.” In a violent rage, she pulled the k
nife from my leg. Blood gushed out of it like a geyser, squirting in intervals like the Trevi Fountain. I screamed, pain ripping through my body like a vicious tiger out for blood. The second the blade left my leg, Angelique was on the ground, head rolled to the side, bullet wound right between the eyes. Her body convulsed in periodic shudders, bright red blood spilling out of the corner of her mouth.
“You motherfucker! You’re going to pay for that!” Marco shouted, as he turned his gun on Midas, not hesitating to pull the trigger.
“Midas!” I screamed, watching the bullet fly across the room and hit Midas square in the chest. His body hit the ground as shots rang out all around me. I watched in horror as the rest of the Armada unloaded their clips into Marco’s naked torso, his body twitching and jerking until that motherfucker hit the ground dead.
“Faith!” Scythe screamed, but somehow his voice sounded muffled and so far away. I briefly saw him fall down at my side, and tug at the ropes wrapped around me, but that’s the last thing I remembered before everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Faith
I woke up in a daze.
My body felt weak and I could barely move as I forced my eyes to open, despite them feeling like they weighed a million pounds.
“She’s waking up,” someone said to my left. I felt a familiar hand slither into mine and squeeze. I tried to squeeze back, but I couldn’t move anything on my body, let alone my fingers that felt brittle and on the verge of breaking.
My brother stood above me, tears covering his bright blue eyes. “I thought I lost you, Faith,” he whispered, when my eyes finally focused enough to see his face.
“I’m not dead?”
Scythe chuckled. “No, Marco missed your artery by a half an inch. He nicked it, which is why you lost so much blood, but if he had completely severed it, you wouldn’t be alive right now.”
“Marco? Angelique?”
“Both dead.”
It felt like a small victory, but then something else from the gunfight resurfaced. “Midas?” I choked out, pain suddenly overwhelming my whole body when I slightly moved. “Fuck, everything hurts.”
“Don’t move, I’ll get the nurse. Switchblade saved your life, ya know? Bastard had unknown medical training we were unaware of. He fucking swooped in and saved your life.”
I looked across the room to where Switchblade hovered against the wall. How could a man so vile and angry have saved my life?
“Why?” I questioned, throwing it out to everyone, not just him.
Switchblade moved away from the wall and stood next to the bed. He didn’t take my hand, although he looked like he wanted to.
“You’re my family, Faith, and the Armada protects their family.”
The word family felt so bittersweet. After everything that happened with Guerrilla, it was hard to trust that anyone in the Armada cared about family anymore.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Scythe asked, squeezing my hand again.
I fought the bitter tears biting my eyes. He still hadn’t answered my question about Midas, and for some reason it felt like he was stalling. Was he dead? Was my brother trying to protect me from being broken all over again?
“I don’t remember a lot. I was in the bathtub with Specter, then Daisy came in. I remember her helping me get dressed, then I woke up in that room. I think she drugged me.”
“She did. She injected something into your neck,” Scythe remarked, filling in the blanks.
“I don’t think she wanted to do it. Guerrilla made her. She said she was jonesin’ and wanted a fix and Guerrilla was denying it. He . . . he took her. She didn’t want to go, but he took her with him.”
“Where?”
“Underground. That’s all I remember. Marco was Guerrilla’s brother and your . . .” my eyes wandered over to Switchblade who stood stoic beside me. I bit back the words, wondering if it would do more harm than good.
“My what?” Switchblade growled.
My eyes closed, I looked to the other side of the room as the word whispered from my lips. “Father.”
“Bullshit! That man is not my fucking father. My father was in the military and died in the Gulf War.” Switchblade was seething. I could see the pain in his eyes, even if he tried to hide it.
“I’m sorry, Switchblade, that’s what he told me. He said he knocked up your mom and to keep her quiet he fed her meth habit.”
Switchblade’s eyes were saturated in betrayed tears, but he refused to shed a single one. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe anything that comes out of that motherfucker’s mouth. It’s not true. I’m not part of that man’s DNA, he’s a fucking coward and he betrayed his brothers.”
“He said he took pictures of me when I was younger and masturbated to them.” I gulped down bile that rose in my throat when I said the word masturbated, trying to break the image of Guerrilla’s decaying body stroking off to my image. “He said he has young girls, too—a prostitution business he’s running in the Armada’s name.”
“That motherfucker! I’ll kill him,” Scythe growled. “Nobody fucks with my family and gets away with it.”
“He’s gone, Scythe. We aren’t going to find him.”
“I’ll fucking find him, and when I do, I’m going to tear him apart limb by limb.”
“That’s not all, he said he has hooks in all the clubs, and Daisy told me he’s the one who shot Midas. He admitted it to me, too. He said Midas was in the way.” Images of Midas being shot by Marco flooded my thoughts, and I couldn’t handle being in the dark a second longer.
“Is he okay? Did Midas survive being shot?”
Scythe looked sheepishly away from me.
The second he couldn’t meet my eyes my heart felt like it was made of thin ice and I just fell through the icy surface drowning in my own sorrow.
A gruff voice cut into my despair. “Midas died seven years ago, buried in a shallow grave on the outskirts of town. The man who rose out of that grave left the man you knew as Midas behind. So, in the metaphorical sense, yes, Midas is dead.”
Through teary eyes, I watched Specter cross the room toward me. A bandage covered his shoulder, and he was moving in slow motion, but he was there alive and walking toward me.
“Midas?” I cried. “You survived!”
“I’m not Midas anymore, Faith. I can’t be. Midas left you behind. He let you fall apart without him and I won’t be that man anymore. I have to move on from that life and be the man you really need—a man that will stand by your side no matter what life throws at him.” Specter took my hand, not afraid to shed the tears of guilt that rimmed his eyes. “I’m so sorry that I lied to you, Faith. I should’ve come back for you. I shouldn’t have let Guerrilla win and fear run my life. I should’ve been a better man for you.”
I pulled my hand out of his, weakly reaching up to touch his face. Beneath the beard was the scar I was so familiar with. I could feel it now, hidden behind all the whiskers and regret. He got this scar protecting me—standing up for our love that no one understood.
I remember the fight vividly.
“What the hell, Faith? You were meant to be with me. Not this fat piece of shit.”
“You’ll never be half the man, Midas is, Switchblade. Your heart is full of hate and darkness, but Midas, he’s full of gold light and good.”
Switchblade’s anger raged inside his eyes. He gripped my arm, forcing me to look at him. “You’re mine, Faith. I haven’t loved a woman in a very long time, and I’m not going to let another one get away like the last one did.”
“I’m not in love with you, Switchblade. When are you going to realize that you and I never will be a thing? I don’t care what Midas looks like, it’s his heart that made me fall in love with him and there will never be another man in this world that will ever make me feel like he does.”
Switchblade’s grip got even more domineering. He rushed my face, pressing his lips against mine in a sad attempt to win me over. I could taste the alcoh
ol and cigarettes on his lips, and it repulsed me. I pushed him away.
“Leave me alone, Curtis.”
“What’s going on here?” Midas asked, appearing around the side of the building Switchblade had me pressed against.
“YOU!” Switchblade raged. “This is all your fault! I’m going to kill you for taking her away from me.”
Midas never saw the blade before Switchblade released it from its hidden compartment and slashed it across Midas’ beautiful face. It all happened so quickly, that I didn’t even have time to react before my brother and dad skidded around the corner, just in time to see Midas’ knees hit the ground. He covered his face, blood seeping through his fingers.
My father should’ve kicked Switchblade out of the club right there for hurting one of his brothers, but he didn’t. Switchblade was just a messed-up kid that had a lot of anger issues, and my father saw that. He didn’t go unpunished for what he did to Midas, but the scar was a constant reminder of how loose of a cannon Switchblade could be, and how he should not be ignored.
I picked through the whiskers covering his cheek until I was fingering the scar. I was touching him—JD—my Midas, the love I thought I lost but was here the whole time.
“I thought you were dead,” I cried. “I thought I lost you again.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Faith. It would take a million bullets to pierce though this broken body before I’d ever lay my head down without your beautiful face staring back at me.”
I frowned against his palm. Tears consumed my eyes, releasing all the anguish I’d been harboring deep in my heart. The feelings of abandonment, the tears I shed when I felt like life had taken everything that I loved away from me. All of it was mixing together. The bitter resentment. All of the lies and betrayal. The cold truth that he had been alive this whole time and let me believe he was dead. It all sat in my chest like a brick of concrete tied to the foot of someone who was thrown into water and left to drown. That’s how being without Midas always felt—like I was drowning.
“You lied to me,” I whispered. “I did things . . . I . . . I was going to kill someone for you . . . I almost killed myself in order to be with you.” I had to look away from him, finding a spot on the wall to focus on so I could suppress the emotion taking over my body. Not even my brother knew about my failed attempts to take my own life, and now I couldn’t look at him without feeling repulsed with myself.