by Wilde, Ora
“What are we doing here?” I asked nervously.
He didn’t reply.
A couple of minutes more and we reached what looked like a residential building. It had a dilapidated facade. No light came out of the windows. It seemed to be abandoned.
A lump formed in my throat. I cursed myself for telling him not to bring me home immediately.
He went out of his truck, then walked towards my side of the vehicle. He opened my door.
“Get out!” he yelled.
Gone was the placid, kind man he was earlier. His demeanor completely changed, from being mild-mannered to being impatient, aggressive and brusque.
“Get out!” he screamed once more, jolting me into action. I stepped out of the truck and he slammed the door behind me.
“Be a good girl and follow me,” he ordered. “Or else, I will have to drag you inside.”
“W-Where are we going?” I asked as terror began to grip my soul.
“Just a little night cap,” he answered with a smile... a different kind of smile... one that seemed very, very sinister. “Come on, girl, we’ll just party.”
“Party?” I doubted. “That building looks empty.”
“Oh trust me,” he said. “My brothers are waiting for us inside.”
“B-But... I have to get home soon...” I tried to reason out.
“Really now?” he questioned. “It won’t take long. And I’m sure Nash wouldn’t mind waiting.”
How did he know Nash? How did he know that I was related to him?
He winked at me and grabbed my arm. He walked briskly towards the seemingly condemned establishment, hauling me with him. I tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he was too strong.
“Stop struggling,” he commanded. “Or else I’d have to send your arm back to your brother... without the rest of your fine young body.”
23
Denial…
“Rise and shine, boys! We got ourselves a guest!”
The man in a green jacket greeted the room with a tone of authority and casualness... as if he was relieved to see familiar faces... as if he was happy to be home.
He pushed me inside and slammed the door behind us.
The air there was thick with smoke. The smell of cigarettes I recognized. But there was another scent... not from tobacco fumes... something milder but somehow more unsettling.
I have never been so afraid my entire life. My knees were trembling, so much so that I almost fell on the floor when I was pushed from the entrance.
The room was filled with men... around ten or so. They were engaged in various activities. One was cleaning the barrel of his pistol on the table. Another was snorting a line of powder near the TV set. Two were playing cards. Others were chatting and laughing. More than half of them were smoking, some with sticks of cigarettes, others with substances I didn’t know.
I was shaking all over, so I crossed my arms to cover the bare skin between my shoulder and my bosoms. I knew my life was in danger. I didn’t want them to get other ideas about what they could do to me.
Then I saw them: the bald latino with a dirty tongue and the white guy with an even fouler mouth... the ones who stalked me outside Linda’s store... the ones who robbed the same shop with Nash...
“Yo!” the latino guy yelled. “Look who we have here, hommes. It’s the crab bitch! That Leva’s skeezer!”
The white guy with the inverted baseball cap got up from the couch and approached me.
“Badaboom badabing!” he screamed. “What she doin’ here, boss? We up for some gang bangin’?”
His lascivious smile terrified me but I tried to put up a brave front. He attempted to smell me, but I quickly pulled my face away from his. He tried to touch my arm but I yanked it away immediately. That pissed him off. He raised his hand, and was about to slap me... the same way he slapped Linda, repeatedly, during the robbery.
I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst.
It didn’t come.
“Stop that shit, Jerome,” someone said... another familiar voice... a voice I also heard at the convenience store more than a week ago. He was identified as Travis, a fact that Nash confirmed later on.
I opened my eyes and saw this Travis, holding the arm of the white guy, restraining him, preventing him from hitting me.
“You ain’t gonna tell me what to do, ya’ fuckin’ faggot!” the white guy, who Travis called Jerome, shouted at him.
“Watch your mouth, else you’d be picking your teeth up from the floor,” Travis warned.
“Enough of that, both of you,” the guy in the green jacket ordered, and instantly, the two men broke it up and proceeded to opposite corners of the room. “Travis is right. We have to be respectful to our guest...”
If this guy was the leader of their gang, then Nash was right about him. He commanded respect, with the way he carried himself, with the way he talked, with the way he seemed different from his troops.
Travis raised his eyebrow, mockingly, which further angered Jerome who jerked his arm away from Travis’ hold. Jerome gave him the middle finger.
Travis grabbed me by the elbow and led me to a corner of the room. There was a solitary chair there, and he beckoned me to sit.
“Andrea, right?” he asked, with a calm demeanor. He had a kind face which was quite unexpected considering his tall and burly frame. His eyes were gentle. His hair was short and preppy, so much so that no one would mistake him to be a member of a gang. He was wearing a black hoodie jacket with a gray shirt underneath. He was Nash’s friend, and the fact that both of them seemed to have a preference for hoodies would’ve been a funny thought... if I wasn’t dead afraid about my fate.
My fate.
As well as my baby’s.
I nodded in response to his question as I desperately tried to be courageous. It was rather futile, however, as some tears escaped my eyes and began to trickle down my cheeks.
“I want to tell you not to be afraid,” he continued to say, “but I can’t. I don’t want to lie to you. The people in this room... they are dangerous. They want Nash and they want him bad. In this group, there is no greater sin than betrayal.”
I bowed my head and looked at the floor. I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know what to tell him. I saw my silver heels. I wanted to remove them so that I could run, as fast as I could, if ever I’d find an opportunity to escape. But judging from the number of their members in the room, vicious and armed and all, a foreboding sense of helplessness quickly quelled that idea.
Then he drew his mouth near my ear. I immediately snapped my head backwards, fearing that he was going to do something lewd. But the back of my head reached the wall behind me, and he pressed his mouth forward before starting to whisper.
“Just do whatever they say,” he mumblingly told me. “They’re not after you. They’re after Nash and they’re just using you to get to him.”
Do whatever they say? My heart started to beat faster as I became even more petrified by the realization that I was at the mercy of their group. He sensed it, though, and his next words tried to reassure me of my safety.
“I will try to protect you as much as I can,” he continued. “If they try to do some... bad things... to you, I will try my best to stop them. I won’t let them harm you.”
I felt a semblance of relief. Whatever relationship... whatever bond... he and Nash had, it was deep enough to make him feel responsible for me.
“W-What about Nash?” I nervously asked in a hushed tone.
Travis didn’t answer immediately. He looked back at the room for a while, thinking of something to say, perhaps, before he turned to face me once again.
“I... cannot assure his safety,” he morosely replied.
“Why?” I questioned in shock.
“Because he betrayed us,” Travis answered. “He broke the oath. No one should break the oath.”
“W-What are you going to do to him?”
He looked down as his eyes avoided mine. He seemed like he w
as wrestling with his conscience, divided between his love for Nash and his loyalty to his group.
“He has to die,” he responded... the tragedy in his voice was almost palpable.
“What? But why? He’s your friend...”
“Because he left us and he knew the consequence,” he replied, coldly that time as if he finally found a reason to actually believe what he was saying.
“Your Nash’s best friend,” I tried to remind him. “You’re his only friend. He joined this... this... this gang because of you...”
“Is that what he told you?” he asked as his eyes darted towards mine. His expression suddenly changed, from being forlorn to being incensed.
“Y-Yes...” I struggled to say, frightened by how swiftly his mood changed.
“He’s my friend,” he admitted with conflicted vehemence. “He’s my brother. But he broke his oath, and the oath is sacred. He knew he would have to pay the price. And now, he will.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I pleaded. “You can help me escape. I can tell Nash to just leave the city... leave the state... and no one will ever see him again.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” he told me as he shook his head. “That wouldn’t even work at all. This group... it’s part of the southwestern block of the Bratva...”
“Bratva?”
“The Russian mafia.”
I gulped as horror pinched every nerve ending I had. I knew that the gang was dangerous, but I never expected it to be connected to an even more terrifying organization.
“Even if Nash would move to another state, even another country,” he continued, “they will find him. The Russians, they don’t like deserters. They don’t like people who know their secrets roaming around outside of their control. Just one traitor and their entire operation can crumble. That’s why our group imposed that oath. But Nash... he chose to break that oath.”
“He had to,” I tried to defend my stepbrother. “He’s not a murderer. He couldn’t allow himself to be part of something that kills innocent old ladies at convenience stores.”
“You’re talking about the incident at Mosquito Lane?” he asked quizzically.
I just nodded.
“Jerome was out of line,” he explained. “But there were other ways to deal with him. We could’ve just punished him, based on our rules and our customs. However, Nash decided to walk away instead... and he has to answer for that.”
“But death? You don’t have to kill him.”
“Andrea... trust me,” he whispered. “If the Russians catch him... the things they’ll do to him... they’d torture him... cut off his limbs and leave him breathing... a torso with a head attached to it... hang him in a hook and keep him alive by sticking a tube in his stomach... together with the countless breathing torsos they’ve been storing for years...”
The image that formed in my head almost caused me to throw up, but I summoned every bit of internal fortitude I could gather just to remain strong.
“Nash would wish that we just killed him,” he added, with a tinge of dejection in his eyes.
I didn’t know if I could trust Travis at that point. Yes, he was Nash’s friend. Yes, he wanted to keep me safe. But he also wanted Nash dead.
But I didn’t have a choice. I was in a room with a dozen or so men... strangers... armed and dangerous and with evil intent. I had to escape. I had to live. Not only for myself.
Not only for myself.
I had to tell him.
“Travis...” I started to say. “I’m pregnant.”
I was expecting him to be surprised... to show some mercy about my predicament... to express even the tiniest hint of concern about the welfare of the helpless child in my womb.
I got none of those.
Instead, he gave me an empty look. It was as if he already knew about it. Either that or he didn’t really care.
“Who’s the father?” he asked unemotionally as he looked back at the room to check if someone was eavesdropping on us.
I met his question with silence. I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t know what to tell him. Perhaps, the truth would’ve convinced him to spare Nash’s life. But it may also give him an option of using my baby - in addition to myself - as bait.
“Let me guess,” he continued. “It’s Nash, isn’t it?”
My eyes widened in shock. How could he even presume that?
“It’s not a surprise,” he said. “He always talked about you.”
“Talked about me?”
“Yes... in a non-sisterly way. He always shared with me how much he admired you... how much you made him feel happy to be alive.”
That’s how Nash felt about me? Even from way back?
“Like I’ve said,” Travis proceeded, “I will try my best to keep you safe. Your baby too. But I can’t say the same thing for Nash.”
“But...”
Before I could finish, though, the lights suddenly went off. Everyone in the room began to express alarm. People were shouting. I heard the sound of guns clicking. I heard cabinets being opened and huge, large objects being dragged from one side of the room to the other. I heard their heavy footsteps scampering all over the area.
And I began to panic even more.
Something was happening and they weren’t happy about it.
“Keep quiet,” I heard Travis whisper.
“Fuck! What’s this shit all about?” the latino guy screamed.
“Don’t anyone touch me!” Jerome warned. “Am strapped and am gonna blast you with mah gat!”
“Quiet!” the General’s voice yelled, and immediately, order was restored in the room.
After a few seconds of silence and when everybody’s eyesights have adjusted to the darkness that enveloped the place, the General began to speak once more.
“He’s here,” he said, “earlier than expected.”
“Oh fuck yeah!” Jerome bellowed joyfully. “It’s showtime, gents and fags.” He then cocked his gun.
“What do we do, boss?” someone asked.
“We bring this outside,” he answered. “A shootout in an enclosed space will not be to our advantage. An open area will allow us to spread out and corner that damn rat.”
I felt Travis’ hand squeeze mine. I was shaking uncontrollably, something he surely discovered. He squeezed harder, as if he wanted to tell me to be stronger.
“Two files!” the General instructed. “Walk straight and fast, to the lobby, then disperse and proceed outside.”
I heard their footsteps once more, together with the creaking sound of the door they opened. Travis’ hand held mine and he started to lead me towards the exit. I was breathing heavily, something which I tried to stifle. I didn’t want them to hear me. I didn’t want them to remember that I was there.
“Someone bring the girl!” the General ordered. “He won’t shoot when we have his sister.”
Shit.
Travis was quick to respond to his leader’s command.
“I’ve got her, boss. You can count on me.”
24
Bargaining…
They marched through the dark, narrow corridor of the third floor. Travis was holding my hand, tugging me along. There were times when I almost tripped because I could hardly see my surroundings. I had to hold on to the wall for support, the cobwebs and dust on its surface rubbed off my perspiring hand, forming a mud-like pool on my palm. It felt sticky and uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. My heart was beating so fast. I didn’t know what would happen next.
All of them were armed, Travis included. That much I could tell. They were ready for a gunfight, and they would settle for nothing less than Nash’s lifeless body on their feet.
How would Nash survive what was to come? Was he armed, as well? Even if he was, he was all alone against a virtual army of goons he once called his brothers. He didn’t stand a chance. A shootout would only lead to one result.
I heard the men talk...