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Indebted

Page 11

by J. L. Beck


  He laughs, gruffly… “The one you fucking killed.” Releasing him with a shove, I walk away. I am angry—no I am livid. I need him. I need to know who it is that is the pig, if there is even one. Now I have no connections because I acted too soon. Fuck. It’s her fault… My mind is playing games on me. I know it isn’t her fault but I still wanted to take my rage out on her.

  “You killed another person?” She acted as if she was in shock, but at the same time wanted to scold me for my ill-mannered behavior. Like I am anything but this fucking monster.

  “Yes. I did…” I hiss. “And I’ll fucking kill many more sweetheart, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” I am being crude, and I am slightly annoyed with her behavior.

  “You’re digging yourself deeper and deeper,” she murmurs under her breath. She isn’t afraid of me or at least not in the moment. Moving from my position, I go to sit on the stool near the window. The FBI could be on our asses and I need to figure out who it is that squealed. My mind is racing, I could kill them both. Time stands still as I stare deeply into Bree’s eyes. Can I really bring myself to put a bullet in her head? To never see her body flush with desire? To never see her beautiful brown eyes full of anger and hate?

  Running a hand through my hair, I pick up the gun and point it at her. Her eyes don’t close nor does she cry out or scream. It is as if she isn’t afraid at all.

  “Who are you with?” I demand.

  Her eyes narrow as she leans into my face, her arms leaning on the side of the chair. “If I was with someone, I already would’ve had them get me out of this fucking place.” I blow out a breath. I need to clear my head. For once in my life I can’t just start killing people, I need to get answers.

  “Let’s go…” I growl, grabbing her arm. She stands abruptly, and I reach out with both hands steadying her. Her body collides with mine, and as I am evening her out, I hear the cocking of a gun behind me. I turn just in time to see Luccio pointing the gun straight at us.

  Fear courses through me for the first time as I look into Bree’s eyes. She could die, I could die, though I know it will happen someday. But she. She can’t die.

  “You aren’t fucking going anywhere. You come into my house, talking all this shit thinking that you know all there is to know. I sent that man to you for a reason…”

  I turn on him, placing my body directly in front of Bree’s. Not a word passes her lips thankfully. There will be no talking yourself out of what we are about to get into.

  “You sent him to lure me out, didn’t you?” It isn’t really a question. I now know the answer.

  “Lure you wasn’t really what I wanted to do… I do know who killed your mom.” His voice is full of hate, as if he had a reason to hate me. I haven’t hurt the man since this very day.

  “Who was it then?” I ask, pushing Bree closer to the door. Her steps are small and uncertain. I can feel the fear rolling off of her. She thinks we are going to die. And we will, unless I get a grip on this shit. My gun is still in my hand, but it is all about who can get the first shot in.

  “The FBI is onto you, Alzerro. Every move you make puts you closer to getting caught. They came for you that day, they killed your mother, and they were fully intent on taking you…I got my hands on you first, though…“ My mind is reeling as I place everything in a timeline in my mind together.

  “What are you saying?” I ask between clenched teeth. My hands are shaking with anger as I raise the gun and point it at him. He doesn’t cower in fear. I don’t expect him to. He will die with dignity.

  “I’m saying the FBI killed your mother, and we took you as our own before you could be taken by them. You have made us millions of dollars. My family is very grateful for all that you have done… But now, now you’re becoming more of an inconvenience for our family. You’re powerful—too powerful. In this case, you must die.”

  The words slip from his mouth as everything registers within me. It is as if everything is playing in slow motion. I pull the trigger the same time he does. My bullet aimed directly at his chest; his bullet aimed directly at me.

  My shot lands exactly as I hoped it would. Directly in his heart as I watch him slip to the ground. My body is full of adrenaline, it takes a moment to realize that his bullet hit me in the shoulder. My skin burns, my muscles ache, and my body feels heavy. This isn’t the first time I have been shot, and won’t be the last I’m sure.

  I can hear Bree’s screams as her arms lock onto me. She turns me to face her as a coldness sweeps over me.

  “We need to go,” I say quietly, pushing her back.

  “You’re fucking crazy, you just killed someone, and he shot you. He fucking shot you.” She is losing it, and I need her to stay with me. I need her to stay calm because she will be the one thing to help us get out of here.

  A crazed look crosses her face as she helps me stand. “We need to leave. Now. Once his men come in and find him dead they will come for us.” My shoulder burns like a motherfucker as we make our way to the door. It is too late, though. The doors in front of us push open, and I pull myself from Bree’s side and push her behind me, shooting the two men before us directly in their chests before they can even raise their guns. They are so young. Their blood seeping onto the gold flaked marble reminding me that it doesn’t matter how many nice things you have. In the end, none of it matters if you’re not alive. I need to stay the fuck alive.

  I pull my phone out, handing the gun to Bree as I pull her along and out down the hall. The rest of his men will be on alert. They will come, I know it.

  I push Jared’s contact name and the phone starts ringing.

  “Sir.”

  “We need to leave, we’re on our way out. I will meet you by the road,” I huff out as we push down the hall.

  “What happened?” he asks. He knows better than to not assume that something has happened. Maybe it is the way I sound, or the fact that usually when things like this happened, it isn’t good. I don’t know what sends him to believe what he did.

  “I’m shot. I need you to contact Mack and let him know. Then I need you to take us to the cabin.”

  “The cabin?” He knows what the cabin is. It is our hideout. It is to be used for emergencies only. This, I think, will qualify as a fucking emergency.

  “Yes the cabin. We need to go into hiding. I just killed Luccio.” As soon as I say it, I hang up, not wanting to waste any more time rambling on.

  “Are you going to be okay? You’re bleeding a lot.” Bree says anxiously. She is pulling me along, and as soon as we make it to the front door, I know shit is about to get bad.

  “Where are you going?” A man barks behind us. He is bald and heavy set, but it isn’t the fat kind. It is the fuck you, the fuck up kind. I am in no shape to be beating the shit out of this guy. We need to run.

  “He’s going to kill us, he’s going to kill us…” Bree keeps chanting as we move down the front steps. I can hear the man’s feet pounding across the ground.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” the voice growls. We are moving faster, barely, but we are as we cross the pavement outside.

  “Stop now or we’ll shoot!” the muscled man yells. I don’t turn around to shoot. We are outnumbered. I don’t want Bree to get shot, but we need to get out if we had a chance at surviving this. The bullets start coming, raining down on us fiercely.

  “He killed Luccio!” Someone yells behind us, and I can hear them running towards us. Bree is breathing heavily as she helps carry my weight.

  “We’re going to die,” she says, crazed, as we run into the bushes. We have to climb the wall, and I am not sure I am going to make it. I am a tough son of a bitch, but there are bullets whizzing past us at every fucking angle. If I have to make a choice between Bree and me, it will be her. She will get over that fucking wall if I have anything to say about it.

  “They’re over here…” A voice yells as the branches poke at my shoulder. I am burning up, and my body fucking burns like I am being eaten by the fucking sun.


  “Go...” I say bending down and grabbing her leg, so I can lift her up and over. She hesitates only a moment as I watch her hand reach up and grip the wall. The men are descending on us quickly, as one of the bullets comes shooting through the bush and landing mere inches from my face.

  “Come on!” she screams over the bullets, her small hand showing just over the edge of the wall. My eyes are blurring as I push forward, my hand landing in hers. Reaching up with my shot arm, I grip the side of the wall to pull myself up.

  “Come on, Zerro…” I can hear the panic in her voice as I push myself up. It is a slow movement and I feel as if I would’ve rather ripped my fucking arm off than continued doing this. Just as I am about half way over, a hand grips my foot.

  “Oh no, you don’t. You’re going to pay for what you did…” I look down to see the asshole who had been barking at us as we ran from the house. He has a gun pointed directly at my back, as his hand on my foot pulls me downwards.

  It is now or never, if I don’t make the selfless decision to let go of her hand, then he will find her and she will die too. I don’t care about anything in my life, but I have grown to care for her slowly. Even a smidge of pain or hurt to her body will push me over the edge.

  My hand is slipping from hers, as the man pulls me down… “You’ll pay. We’ll torture the fuck out of you. Rip that tongue of yours out, beat the shit out of you, and then…” Silence. I hear the sound of the gun being shot but am not sure if it is his gun or someone else’s.

  I turn around to see the man lying on the ground, a pool of blood already starting to form around him. Then I look back up and see Bree at the edge of the wall, her small body shaking, the gun is in her hand and she looks scared shitless.

  I don’t say anything to her, but I am fucking proud. I am more than proud. I am now the one indebted to her. The second she has me over the wall, my body goes limp. I know Jared will come. I just need to hold out a little longer. It doesn’t last, though. My mind slips from my body and suddenly everything goes black. I hope to fucking God I am not dying. I need to tell Bree how fucking hot it is that she shot a gun.

  Bree

  “Is he going to be okay?” I implore, asking Jared over and over again as I look at Zerro’s lifeless body. He has been a douchenugget of all kinds of sorts, but I don’t want him to fucking die. My body is still shaking; I am scared to death. Never in my life had I been shot at until I met him. I had only shot a gun a couple times with my dad. He wanted me to know how to shoot in case someone ever attacked me. I don’t think this would be his idea of an attack.

  “He’ll be fine. We need to get to the cabin, then I can remove the bullet, so he can heal.” Jared is acting as if I haven’t just told him Zerro has been shot.

  “You’re acting as if we weren’t almost killed. This is fucking crazy.” The gun is still in my hand since I am afraid to let go of it. It is the one thing that is keeping me sane or alive.

  My gaze lands back on Zerro. Blood seeps into his white shirt, his blood red tie is ripped and tattered as is my dress. The shoes he had gotten me are long gone in the rush to jump the wall. His face, though covered in a sheen of sweat and dirt, still looks as dashing as the first time I met him. I hate him for everything that he has done, for the person he is, but I also kind of like him. I knew what he was doing as I felt his fingers slipping from my hand. He was going to save me, and even though when he wakes up, he won’t ever admit it, I know it in my heart.

  “What happened back there?” Jared asks me, turning down the radio. The men will be after us. I am surprised we even made it out of there. I want to tell Jared, but the truth is, I don’t really know what they were talking about, who the pig is or what is going on. I know that Luccio was a bad man, and that the FBI killed Zerro’s mother and came for him. I don’t know what I have to do with it, though.

  “I don’t really know. There was some talk about someone being a pig, and Luccio accused me of being one. Then he told Zerro that the FBI is onto him, and that they will take him out if he isn’t careful. He told Zerro who killed his mother.” I am rambling because I am scared and nervous. Will I ever be safe again? Will I be able to go back to school? Back to my dad?

  “Whoa, slow down…” Jared says, trying to soothe me. His eyes shine brightly at me through the rearview mirror, and after everything that happened, I wonder if he can be trusted. Can anyone who Zerro worked with be trusted? What kind of sick and twisted game is this? If Luccio was supposed to be family to Zerro and had betrayed him like that, what could anyone else do?

  The gun is still in my hands, and I will use it if need be. I can save Zerro and us from all of these people. I eye it, wondering what I should do next. Zerro must’ve trusted Jared at least a little bit if he called him over anyone else.

  “Put the gun down, Bree. I know that look. You’re scared, and that’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you guys. Zerro is my friend. I’m his driver. I’m taking you to the safe house.” He is speaking calmly, and I stare at him and then look down at Zerro. He is still breathing, his chest moving up and down, and I know that if I want to save his life, I need to have Jared get us where we need to be.

  “Fine,” I reply after hesitating a moment. I put the gun down on my lap, making sure I can grab it if need be.

  “Now what happened?”

  “They wanted to kill him,” I huff out, my head landing on the head rest. My eyes and skin hurt so badly. My head is pounding from all the noise, and my body aches as if I have run up a hill fighting a bear.

  “Kill him? Why?” he asks, profoundly dumbfounded.

  I blow out a breath and take a deep one in, trying to calm myself. My stomach is still in knots, and no matter how many times I look over at Zerro, I can’t help but wonder if he is going to make it. I know it is only a shoulder wound, but people have died from less serious injuries. Getting shot isn’t to be fucked with.

  “They said he was dangerous, out of control. They think I’m working with the FBI or something.” I sound just as Luccio did, and I understand the look on Jared’s face as he absorbs what it is that I have said. I had that same look on my face as Luccio told me.

  I watch cautiously as his hands grip the steering wheel harder. “He’s dangerous, Bree. I know I don’t have to tell you that; I know you’ve seen him at his worst. However, he’s not out of control. He’s doing what he is meant to do in life. Luccio wanted him dead for an entirely different reason, I’m sure.”

  I hear his words, but they mean nothing to me. The pure fact that Luccio wanted Zerro dead is enough for me to gather that I ended up in the middle of something that is sure to kill all of us. Hell, Zerro is already on the verge of death. Even I am. Being shot at isn’t something I plan on doing daily.

  “It doesn’t matter because now Luccio is dead, and all of his men are going to come for us. Plus, there’s some fucking FBI agent, or pig, in on all of this.” My voice is growing louder and louder. I am scared and panicking. Where do we go from here?

  “Just calm down. When Zerro wakes up, I’ll get the full story. You’re in shock, so just breathe and try to calm down.” My eyes grow wide. Is he fucking insane? Somewhere in my mind I know I need to listen to him, but I just shot a gun. I just killed someone. I fucking killed someone!

  “I killed someone!” I cry out as if I am admitting my deepest sin. The gun slips from my lap and to the ground. I have seen death, my mother had died at the hands of cancer, but I have never killed someone. I feel the worst kind of hate eating away at who I am.

  “You had to. It was you or them.” Jared doesn’t sound remorseful at all.

  “That’s not me, though. I wouldn’t ever kill someone. I don’t even know who I am anymore….” The last part isn’t meant to come out of my mouth, but I can’t believe what I have done. I knew that the moment I pulled the trigger someone would die, but I feel like I did too.

  “It is either you or him. I can promise you that he wouldn’t have felt anything if they shot and killed yo
u. He deserved it.” My body trembles. Shouldn’t I be crying? Am I really in shock?

  “That doesn’t matter. I killed someone.” The words are tumbling out of my mouth.

  “You had to.” The way he says it makes it seem final. His stare is gentle, and I know he understands what I am going through. When I said I would pay my father’s debt, I didn’t think I would actually be doing this.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, my eyes going back to Zerro. He is still breathing, but his body isn’t moving. When I touch his skin, it is hot to the touch. I keep my hand against his hot skin to remind myself that he is still here with me. Hot skin is better than cold.

  “The safe house is up in the mountains. It’s about another thirty minute drive. Then we have to get the code for the security system from Zerro, and we can get in the house.” His eyes go from me, to the road, and back again. I wonder if he thinks I am going to shoot myself or something. I didn’t survive that to end my own life.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, unable to stop myself. A smile pulls at his lips, and I wonder what he thinks is so funny. My body is still shaking, my hands sweating, my breaths still harsh. I don’t find any of this fucking funny. Plus Zerro is bleeding out next to me.

  “Zerro clearly has his hands full with you. You don’t seem like his type by the way.” He says it all matter of fact like. I know I am not Zerro’s type. He went for the submissive, I’ll-let-you-fuck-me-however-you-want types.

  “By type, you mean, he doesn’t usually go for the women that do whatever the fuck they want?” I ask, eyebrow raised. He laughs gruffly and the tension inside the SUV eases. I am still scared shitless, but my blood stops pounding in my ears.

  “By type I mean he generally doesn’t have a woman who I can judge as his type. He doesn’t usually keep anyone longer than a night.”

  “Fantastic. I’m going to end up going to jail with the mafia king who also is a manwhore, which I already kind of assumed.” Leaning over, I run a hand through my hair. My curls are everywhere, I’m sure, and I don’t even want to catch a glimpse of my face.

 

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