Black

by K. L. Grayson

  There’s no way out.

  My chin trembles. Fear, confusion, desperation, loss…my emotions swirl through me. Dropping my chin to my chest, I cry, my shoulders heaving as I sob.

  The boy doesn’t make a sound, but I know he’s caught up to me. His scent, a mixture of sweat and surprisingly enough cigars, surrounds me, and I look up through watery eyes.

  Shaking my head, I sit back on my haunches. “Please,” I beg. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  Bending over, he places his hands on his knees. “I’m asthmatic,” he wheezes between ragged breaths. “I don’t run well.”

  My eyes widen in shock. I’m not sure what I thought he was going to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Just seconds ago, I was running from him—running for my life—and now I’m watching him struggle to breathe. I know that feeling all too well. Here, like this, with his labored breathing and the distinct discoloration of his lips, he looks a lot less menacing and much more vulnerable.

  Reluctantly, I reach into my pocket, pulling out my inhaler. “Use this.”

  Furrowing his brows, the boy looks at my hand. Weird sounds come from his chest, sounds I recognize because they’ve landed me in the emergency room on more than one occasion. Lifting my hand, I urge him to take it. Why? I have no idea. What I should be doing is running like the wind, using his weakened state to my advantage. I know I could get away now.

  His brown eyes search my blue ones. “Why are you doing this?” he whispers, glancing over his shoulder as though he’s making sure no one is watching.

  I shrug, wishing I had an answer for him, but I don’t. Probably I shouldn’t be helping him, considering his job is most likely to take me back to his…monster, where I’ll either be murdered or sold, but something swirls in his dark brown eyes, screaming for me to trust him.

  “Just take it,” I tell him.

  Grabbing it from my hand, he shakes the blue canister several times before taking a puff. Drawing the air in deep, he holds his breath for several seconds before letting it out and repeating the process.

  “What’s your name?” he asks, his words coming much smoother now.

  I clench my jaw, deciding how to answer. He was chasing me; shouldn’t he know my name? If he doesn’t, do I want him to know my name? A little voice in the back of my head tells me to lie, but I can’t, because images of my dad and Cami are flashing through my mind. I just helped this boy, so maybe he will help me.

  “Bianca.”

  Nodding, he hands my inhaler back to me and stands up to his full height as I scramble to my feet.

  “Run, Bianca,” he says softly, leaning toward me. “And don’t come back. Go away. If you come back he will kill you—”

  “Wait,” I interrupt, reaching for him.

  He takes a quick step back as though I would hurt him, and my heart crumbles. He can’t leave now. Placing a hand over my heart, I plead with my eyes first, and then my words.

  “What about Cami? Please. They have to let her go. You have to help her.”

  Lowering his eyes, he shakes his head before looking up. “Cami who?”

  Those two words are like a punch to the gut. I open my mouth to beg him not to hurt her, to beg him to somehow help me get to her, but I’m cut off by an unfamiliar voice.

  “Rex?” The boy turns in the direction we came from. “You catch her?”

  The boy—Rex—holds a finger to his lips, signaling for me to stay quiet before yelling out a response. “Sorry, Dante. I lost her,” he hollers, slowly backing away from me.

  “Please. Don’t leave.” Lunging forward, I grab his arm. “Don’t hurt her. Let her go. Take me. Tell them to take me.”

  “Go, Bianca.” Rex yanks his arm out of my grip, knocking me backward in the process. His eyes flash with regret, but it doesn’t last long because next thing I know he’s taking a menacing step toward me. He bends down until we’re inches apart. “Corri!” Run!

  And I do. Just like my sister told me, I do.

  I run.

  …NO!

  My eyes open, and the fourteen-year fog finally lifts, leaving me with a clear, ugly reality. It was Rex, my Rex chasing us that day.

  And Dante.

  Oh, God, it was Dante.

  A sharp pain rips through my chest.

  Our own brother tackled Cami to the ground.

  This isn’t happening.

  Did Dante kill her? Did he kill our sister?

  And why the fuck didn’t Rex help her? He helped me, so he surely could’ve helped her.

  I try to remind myself that Rex saved my life that day. He had me cornered. He easily could’ve called for someone, but he didn’t. He let me go. But white hot rage replaces all rational thought.

  My fingers curl inward, my nails biting into my palms, drawing blood, but I don’t feel it because my body is numb. I dig harder, needing to feel something—anything—and then Rex’s voice filters through the air, drawing me back in.

  “What are we going to do?”

  I lift my eyes, watching the scene unfold in front of me as the dreaded words pass through Dante’s lips.

  “I think you know what we have to do.”

  I think you know what we have to do.

  Does that mean they’re going to kill me? I’m the missing piece of the puzzle—the person who can link their father to a double murder. What else would they do with me?

  My initial instinct is to run, but I’m so goddamn sick and tired of running.

  I barge into the room. The door flies back, smacking the wall behind it and both men turn toward me.

  “What the fuck?” Rex rushes toward me, but I hold up a hand.

  If he gets any closer I’m not sure what I’ll do.

  “How could you?” I yell. “Both of you!”

  Dante and Rex smartly choose to keep their distance. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I’m not sure if I should be scared or pissed, or both.

  “Shae, baby, I don’t know what you heard, but—”

  “No!” I scream. “Don’t call me baby. Don’t you dare call me baby. You knew.”

  His brows draw tight. “Yes, I know who you are. And I know why you didn’t tell me.”

  “That’s not why I’m mad,” I growl, refusing to give him the chance to explain. He doesn’t deserve the chance to explain. “For fourteen years I’ve been trying to remember what happened that day, and this whole time you knew because you were there.” Emotion crawls up my throat, making it difficult to talk. “You chased us,” I cry, my eyes darting to Dante.

  Dante shakes his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily when he swallows.

  “You watched your father murder my mine, and then you chased us so what?” I say, swiping at tears. “So you could take us to him? So he could kill us? Is that what you did with Cami? Or did you do it yourself?” Anger replaces every other emotion in my body, and I rush forward, shoving Dante’s chest. “Did you kill her?” I scream, getting up in his face.

  “Shae—” Rex takes a step toward me but Dante shoots a hand out, stopping him.

  “Tell me you killed her. Tell me, Dante,” I chant, my fists striking him harder with each word while I sob and gasp for breath. “She’s dead,” I scream. “And it’s your fault. You killed my sister!”

  Dante snags my wrists in his hands, and I glare up at him, prepared for his wrath, prepared to fight. And I’ll fight until the death if I have to, but make no mistake about it, I will get revenge.

  “I’m so sorry, Shae.”

  “You did!” I shriek, trying to break free, but it’s no use, his grip is too tight. “You killed her, you son of a bitch! You killed our—”

  Snapping my lips shut, I give one final yank, and he releases me. I dig my fingers into my hair, spinning around so I can get away from him.

  It’s hard to believe that just last night I was hoping for a future with Dante in my life. But no way will that happen now.

  How could I ever forgive him?

  I can’t.

  An
d now I’m going to destroy his family’s life the same way they destroyed mine. I might die in the process, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.

  Dante stalks toward me and grips my arm, whirling me around. “What were you going to say?” he demands, his wide eyes searching mine.

  “Nothing,” I spit. “You don’t deserve to know what I was going to say.”

  The grip on my arm loosens and Dante takes a step back, his eyes narrowed. “I know you’re upset, but you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Shae, he’s right.” Rex steps in front of me, his worried eyes pleading with me. “You’re upset, understandably so, but you need to hear us out.”

  “What I need to do is get even.”

  “What? Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Dante’s deep voice booms through the air, and I flinch before straightening my back and stepping toward him.

  “I’ve been out of my goddamn mind for the last fourteen years, since the day your father murdered my family,” I roar, pounding a fist to my chest. “He destroyed me, and now I’m going to destroy him.”

  “What? Shae, no, that’s not you. Listen…”

  Rex reaches for me, but I flinch back, refusing to let him touch me, though I know the feel of his skin against mine would soothe the darkest parts of my soul.

  “Dante, give us a minute alone, please?”

  Dante glares at his brother but complies, storming from the room without a glance toward me.

  Rex sighs, dropping his head.

  “Don’t even bother wasting your breath, because you can’t change my mind.”

  His eyes lift. “Listen to me, okay? I promise I won’t touch you, but you have to listen. I just figured out who you are. I would’ve said something this morning, but you told me before that you don’t remember much from your past, and I wanted to talk to Dante, figure out a way to talk to you about it and keep you safe at the same time.”

  I shake my head, not wanting his words.

  “Dante didn’t kill Cami, Shae, my father did.”

  “You delivered her to him,” I hiss.

  “No, baby, that’s not how it happened.” Rex’s eyes grow suspiciously bright. “I’ve relived that day a million times—in my thoughts, in my dreams. Each time I wonder what I could’ve done differently, if the outcome would have been the same. But the truth is, I have no idea where I would be right now had it not been for you and your sister, which is why I can’t let you do this. You saved me, Shae, and now it’s my turn to save you.”

  “I don’t want you to save me.” Fed up with his useless words, I hold my hands out. “I’m done, Rex. Just tell me where your mother is.”

  “What?” His back stiffens. “She’s at Ambrosi’s. Why do you need to talk to my mother?”

  “Don’t fucking worry about it.”

  “I will worry about it. She’s my business. You are my goddamn business.”

  My nostrils flare as I hold my chin high, determined not to let his words distract me. There’s only one thing I need to do right now, and it starts with Isabella.

  “Fuck you, Rex.” I spit the words out with more venom than a snake bite, and the tension in the air crackles.

  I can see the shift in Rex’s demeanor.

  He’s done trying to talk to me.

  Pushing to his full height, he squares his shoulders. His jaw ticks, and then he says, “Don’t you dare walk away from me, Shae.”

  “I don’t have a choice.” My voice breaks, along with the delicate foundation Rex and I have spent so much time building. Amazing how something you thought was solid can collapse so easily.

  “You do have a choice, and I will help you. But if you seek revenge against my father, you’ll force me to do things I don’t want to do.”

  “I get it, Rex. You want to protect your fath—”

  “I want to protect my family,” he growls, taking a menacing step toward me. “And I will do anything—at all costs, without hesitation—to ensure the people I love stay safe.”

  That doesn’t include me. He doesn’t need to say the words; I can hear it in his voice. If it comes down to me or his father, Rex will choose his father.

  I turn around, walking toward the door.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  With my hand on the knob, I look over my shoulder one last time at the man who helped destroy my life, only to unknowingly put it back together.

  The man I hate.

  The man I love.

  Dante storms into my office as soon as Shae is gone.

  “Where the fuck is she going?”

  Yanking open the bottom drawer of my desk, I pull out my .45, check to make sure it’s loaded, and stuff it in the back of my pants.

  “Where do you think she’s going? What would you do if you just remembered, after fourteen years, who murdered your family?”

  “She’s going after Dad? Is she fucking stupid? She’s going to get herself killed.”

  “No, she won’t. Because we won’t let her.”

  Dante’s lips part, and I cock a brow.

  “Fucking son of a bitch,” he rumbles, rushing to his office, where he, too, grabs his .45. “I can’t believe this shit. What the fuck are we supposed to do?” he mumbles, prepping his gun as I just did. “Let’s just grab Shae, tie her to a chair, and we’ll make her see reason.”

  “I can’t do that, Dante.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because I love her,” I yell. “And I understand why she feels the need to do whatever the fuck it is she’s going to do. If someone murdered you, I’d be the exact same way.”

  “What’s she going to do? Point a gun to his head and demand an apology?”

  “No clue. I just know we have to get to her and Mom before Dad does.”

  “Wait. What? Mom? What does she have to do with this?”

  Grabbing my keys, I stalk down the hall and out to my car with Dante following close behind. “We’re about to find out.”

  Dante yanks open the passenger side door and slides in. “I hate this shit. This is why I don’t want any part of the fucking mafia.”

  “I know, brother, but Shae needs us. Whether she knows it or not, she’s about to go head to head with the fucking devil, and we’re going to be there to stop her.”

  “I know you love this girl, Rex, but are you ready to die for her?”

  “I’m not going to die, and neither are you.”

  “I better not fucking die,” he scoffs. “Or I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”

  “Shae.”

  Ignoring JJ, I run for my room and grab a box from the top shelf of my closet. Placing it on my bed, I open it and pull my gun from its case.

  “What the fuck is that?” JJ asks.

  Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I knew this day would come. That’s why I took shooting lessons, and that’s why I bought a gun to begin with.

  “It’s a gun.”

  “No fucking shit,” JJ admonishes, standing next to me. “But what are you doing with it? Do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

  “Better than most.” And that’s the fucking truth. With my very first paycheck, I hired someone to teach me. He was a former Navy SEAL, and he worked with me for three years, ensuring that I had the tools necessary to protect myself, including the ability to kill someone if it came down to it.

  He didn’t ask questions about my past, and I didn’t offer any information. I was a client. Nothing more.

  I make sure the gun is loaded and the safety on before shoving it in my purse.

  “I need your car.”

  “What?” JJ’s eyes widen. “No fucking way.”

  “Fine.”

  “Shae, stop.”

  He grabs my arm as I walk past him, and I whirl around.

  “Talk to me, please,” he begs. “What the fuck is going on? I’ve never seen you like this. I don’t even know who you are right now.”

  “Remember the day we first met at the diner?”r />
  His eyes soften. “Of course I do.”

  “Do you remember how I told you there were things about my past I couldn’t talk about?” He nods. “I still can’t, but I need you to trust me. You don’t want to get involved.”

  “If you’re involved, I’m involved. No way am I going to let you do something dangerous.”

  “You don’t have a choice. I know what I’ve got to do, and nothing or no one is going to stop me.”

  JJ shakes his head “I don’t understand.”

  “JJ.” I drop a hand to his arm, knowing full well that if things don’t go my way, this might be the last time I see him. “This is bigger than you. It’s bigger than me, and I wish I could tell you, but then you’d be in danger, and I would never put you in that position.”

  “Fine. I’ll put myself in that position. We’re family, Shae.”

  “I’m sorry.” Taking my hand off his arm, I turn for the door.

  “Shae?”

  “Yeah?” I turn around. He tosses his keys, and I catch them. “Thank you.”

  “Just come home tonight, okay?”

  Tears well up in my eyes, and I nod before slipping out the front door.

  Because traffic is light, I’m able to make it to Ambrosis in record time. I pull up to the curb and throw JJ’s car in park.

  I can’t believe I’m going to do this.

  I take a deep, cleansing breath and blow it out. My fingers tremble in my lap, and as much as I want to put the car in drive and pull away, I know that’s not an option because I don’t want to run, and I would have to run. I’d have to leave the life I’ve made for myself here.

  My eyes are locked on the front door of Ambrosi’s as I turn off the car, climb out, and slip the gun in the back of my pants, situating my shirt to make sure it’s covered.

  With each step I take toward Ambrosi’s, I can hear my father and sister yelling at me.

  What are you doing?

  Turn around, Bianca.

  Don’t do this. Don’t let him ruin your life too.

  “He already ruined my life,” I whisper, stopping at the front door.

  I wipe my hands down the front of my pants and reach for the handle, but the door is locked. Pressing my face against the tinted glass, I peer inside. The lights are on, and Isabella is sitting at a table in the back. I can’t tell what she’s doing, but she appears to be alone, so I knock on the door.