EIGHTEEN
My boots squeaked as I turned to run for the door. A high-pitched laugh bounced off the metal, assaulting my eardrums.
Men came from all directions; some I recognized, but most I didn’t. I kicked out at one, using his leg to twist myself around and jab at an Asian guy behind me. The man fell back, and I dove into him, using him as a plow, pushing a few more men behind him to the ground. A punch slammed into my ear, another into my gut, and I stumbled to the side. Weaponless, I was fighting a losing battle. The knife Ryker gave me was still on the ground in Peru.
Ryker. Was he all right? Did he make it out?
Dozens of hands grabbed at my shirt, arms, and hair, stopping any further movement. Pain stung my head as one yanked my ponytail back with a sharp snap. Then I felt pressure against my temple, cool metal pressed into my skin. “Don’t move.”
I stilled. I couldn’t outrun a bullet.
Jump. Dammit. Jump! I screamed at myself. Again, nothing happened.
My focus locked on the girl approaching me. I tried another tactic, repeating over in my head, Let me go. Forget you ever knew me.
Maria didn’t even flinch as she slithered through the throng of men, a sneer playing over her red painted lips. “Talk about predictable. You really think you could escape?”
You will let me go, I demanded. She only folded her arms, shifting her weight. What was happening to me? I could no longer jump or glamour.
“I gave it the ol’ college try.”
She nodded. Her long, curly brown hair bouncing as she did. “I understand it’s in your nature to do what you do best. Fight. No matter the odds. It’s who you are. You will never be able to leave this life behind... and by the looks of it,” she motioned to my bloody nose, “you haven’t.” A strange mix of understanding and kinship filtered over her features before she turned aloof again. Her eyes wandered over me, a sneer wrinkling her nose. “I love what you did with your hair. Fits you. The Avenging Angel looks even more ethereal, like you don’t belong to this Earth.” Her voice was soaked with mocking and jealousy.
“Tie her arms.” She nodded to my hands. “Use the cuffs. You don’t want to underestimate this one.” She motioned to the men around me and pivoted, heading back for the stairs. “And bring her to my office.”
Her office? For the first time I really took in the people and changes around me. Maria was in charge. She would only be running things if Marcello was dead. I wasn’t too surprised; Ryker had bashed his head in with his axe.
Some of the men I recognized from my days here with Marcello, but more than half of these men were Asian. During my last stay here, all of Marcello’s men I encountered were Hispanic, Italian, or Caucasian. It didn’t really make sense Maria would change that, but it wasn’t really important, my mind was centered on more crucial things. Like getting the hell out.
Maria’s crew dragged me forward, but stopped at the bottom of the stairs. A skinny dark-haired boy stepped in front of me, handcuffs in his hands.
“You will pay.” The boy glared at me with unabashed hatred. “My sister will never be the same because of you.” He squeezed my wrists so tight against the metal, I cried out.
Sister?
“Hiro.” The man next to him nudged his arm. Neither one could have been more than eighteen.
Hiro’s lip crooked, and he begrudgingly stepped to the side. The men behind pushed me up the stairs. I knew my way. This wasn’t the first time I had been locked in this warehouse. Fear for my life and my anger at putting myself here made it difficult for me to keep a clear head. All I knew was I had to escape.
Only five of the men who attacked me downstairs came upstairs with me. Guess they figured I’d be obedient handcuffed with a gun to my head.
The office I stepped into was not the one I had left. It still had the old wooden desk, but several chairs were placed on the opposite side of the desk, allowing visitors to sit. Two file cabinets had been added, along with several detail maps of Seattle. Red ink and flags decorated the charts. A small generator sat in the corner, and on top were a dozen walkie-talkies being charged. More sat on the shelf. On the upper shelves behind the desk were ten to twelve black binders, some labeled: Outgoing, Payments, Received, Fights, Girls.
Compared to Marcello, Maria looked to be running a business. When I was here last, she was managing the underground fight club. She was more efficient in business, coordinating and handling the fights. Marcello liked the presentation, to be seen, and have the hoopla feed his ego. Maria was the one who did all the work.
“As you can see, I am running things now.” Maria leaned against the desk, staring at me with regard. “How is it one insignificant person can bring such destruction and havoc? How were you capable of completely changing my life?” Fury flashed in her brown eyes.
Neither one felt like questions to me, so I didn’t respond.
She cleared her throat, anger vanishing from her expression. “Come. I want you to see what you are responsible for.” She motioned for the men to follow her. She walked me back toward the room I was all too familiar with. My stomach twisted in knots recalling my last stay in the back room of the warehouse. I was left for two days chained to a water pipe, only in my underwear.
Maria unlocked the door and slowly opened it. She peered around the corner before turning back to me. “See for yourself.”
The men shoved me into the room, and I stumbled past the door. The room had been bare last time—only me, chains, and the water pipe above. The room now held a cot pushed against the wall, a bed pan, a side table holding a glass of water and bottles of medication. The man on the bed stared absently out the window at the pigeons nestled at the broken window.
I gasped.
Marcello.
The vacant expression on his face only emphasized the side of his head, which was completely caved in. It was wrapped with gauze as not to display the grotesque deformity. His eye on his bad side was closed and drooped down to his mouth. The features on his good side had slid down an inch. Acid careened around into my stomach, blending both guilt and anger together. My emotions mixed with extreme loathing for seeing him still alive, remembering all he did to me, and the revolt at seeing his condition.
“Marcello, look who’s here.” Maria spoke sweetly, but her expression was crammed with disgust and hatred for me.
Marcello jerked his head, his one eye landing on me. He watched me for a while, with no recognition or response in any way. I could have been another pigeon to him.
“He can’t form sentences anymore. And I don’t even know if he recognizes who I am. He wakes me most nights screaming.”
My lungs felt like two blocks of ice. I didn’t know what I should be feeling. I was sick at the sight of his disfigurement, but he had hurt many of the girls and had beaten me, and if Ryker hadn’t come, he would have used me as his sex slave. Now the ruthless, merciless man was nothing more than a drooling mass of bones and skin.
“He still seems to know how to eat and go to the bathroom by himself. I’ve been told when those abilities go... so does he.”
“Been told?”
“You think he was the only one affected by you?”
Technically, Ryker had done this to Marcello, but I was the reason Ryker acted against them. And I can’t say he would be upset by Marcello’s current condition. I wasn’t even sure I was.
Maria turned to the men behind me. “Leave us.”
“Ma’am.” One of the guys I recognized from my stay before spoke.
Maria leaned over and took the gun out of his hand. “She is not going anywhere. And I think I can handle her.”
I wouldn’t bet on it, Maria. I have fae power in me now.
He nodded, and the rest of the men retreated out the door, closing it behind them.
The gun barrel pointed at my face. “Don’t think about it. It’s taking everything in my power not to shoot you in the head now.” She stepped to me, the gun pressing into my skull. “But you will be my security he
re. Like you, I am a survivor. I will do what I need to get by. Unfortunately, right now this means not killing you.”
A tortured grimace flicked the edges of her mouth. “I wish he had simply died. But now they have leverage on me. They know I will do what they say.”
“What are you talking about?” I stepped back.
Maria shoved me, my back slamming into the concrete wall. She rammed the mouth of the gun into my forehead. “My brother might have been a bastard, but he is my family. I love him. Now they have me trapped as their puppet.” She gulped, tears reflecting in her eyes. “Do you know how it feels to wish your brother actually died that night? How much easier it would have been. I could have run. Gotten away from here... from them.”
“Gotten away from who?”
The weapon pressed harder into my head, causing my eyes to water, before she relented and stepped back. “The Scorpions.” Her arm dropped to her side. “Duc.”
Everything came into sudden focus. Now it made sense why more than half the men downstairs where Asian. The Scorpions, a rival gang in Seattle, had swooped in when Marcello could no longer fight them, and taken over. I understood who Hiro was talking about. There was little doubt the sister he mentioned was Crazy Kat, the girl I almost killed in the fight against the Scorpions.
Hell.
“They have taken over Seattle, running everything. Marcello was the only one formidable enough to keep them in check. Now no one curbs Duc’s greed for supremacy and control.”
“I’m surprised they kept you alive.”
She shrugged. “Duc is exceptionally shrewd. He saw how I ran the girls here and coerced me to keep managing them. I live as long as the girls keep winning their fights. I run a tight ship, so I’m allowed to have some freedoms and authority, but it’s all an appearance. The moment I step wrong, I’m dead.” Maria glanced back to the form on the bed. Marcello glanced up and waved to us, an innocent grin on his mouth. Maria nodded at him, then turned back to me. “First they will torture him to death.”
Even after the shit I went through here under Maria and Marcello, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. I understood how it was to live in fear every day or to stay somewhere you hated because of family. Lexie might not have been my real sister, but I couldn’t have loved her more. I stayed because of her, living life as a caged rat. But I wouldn’t have done it differently. She was everything to me.
Maria’s threat was quite real. I didn’t necessarily think it was my fault, but I was a huge reason it all came to be and why she was in this situation. But like Maria said, she was a survivor, and my sympathy would be fleeting because I was the one she was going to throw under the bus.
Almost sensing my train of thought, Maria drew her arm up, pointing the revolver at me again. “God dropped his Angel on me again, and I’m not letting you get away this time. You are going to secure my survival.”
A squeal behind Maria directed my focus past the gun. Marcello cowered on the bed, his eye locked on the gun in Maria’s hand.
“I’m sorry, Marcello. I know guns scare you.” She slowly backed up, keeping the gun on me, reaching back with her hand to touch him.
Guns scare him? Wow. Things had changed.
Marcello curled tighter into a ball the closer she came. Terror warped his expression. His eyes fixed only on the weapon.
It was kind of sad to watch, but I had to keep reminding myself this was a man who raped and abused many women.
“Drop the gun. Forget I was here.” I stared deep in her eyes, hoping this time if I said it out loud it would work.
She tilted her head to the side, studying me before she burst out with a laugh. “I don’t think so.” Her finger twitched. “Now let’s move, girl. Your fellow bunkmates will be eager to have such a legend in their midst.” For a moment Maria peered over her shoulder to comfort him. “Marcello, it’s all right. No one is going to hurt you.” I wasn’t about to let any opportunity to escape get by me.
I leaped forward, my hand reaching for her wrist, and knocked her hand holding the gun. Boom! The gun went off, exploding in my ears. The bullet hit the ceiling, bouncing back. Maria and I jumped back, ducking out of the way of the ricochet. The slug hit close to my foot, embedding in the floor.
Marcello’s screams broke through the ringing in my ears.
“You crazy bitch!” Maria bellowed over her brother’s wails.
“I’m the crazy bitch, seriously?”
Feet pounded outside the door before breaking through. “Maria!” A familiar dark-haired boy, his lip scarred and misshapen, was the first to cross the threshold. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Carlos.” She brushed ceiling debris off her pants. He watched her, bobbing back and forth on his feet, debating whether to run to her side. I remembered him. Carlos, the boy with the hair-lip, was the one who saved me from another one of Marcello’s groping men, Pedro. Pedro was a victim of Ryker’s wrath the night of the fight. I felt no sadness that asshole was gone.
Marcello continued to whine, curled tightly around his blanket. Maria picked up the gun, handing it to Carlos, needing to get it out of the room, away from Marcello. “Take her across the street and put her in the room. I’ll be over in a bit.”
“Come on.” Carlos grabbed my shoulder and pushed me out of the room. Normally, I would work him, play with his emotions to help free myself. The expression he gave Maria when she wasn’t looking told me pleading my case would be pointless; he would do anything she asked.
My escape would have to come another way. If only for one moment, maybe the powers would work in my favor, instead of at inopportune times. My body jumped at the bar when Ryker was about to kiss me, but not now. Go figure. Until they decided to come back, I had to stay smart and alert. Just like old times.
Carlos and a few others walked me away from the warehouse. Evening was slowly descending on Washington. It felt strange to be reliving the same sunset I’d just seen in Peru. I hoped Ryker wasn’t worrying about me and had escaped the throng of jaguars.
He did. He had to, I told myself. And he was back safely in our room, freaking out, realizing by now I was not at the usual places I jumped to. Even if I were free, there was no way I could have contacted him to let him know I was okay. The inconvenience and frustration from the lack of modern technology in this area in the last few months was getting easier to deal with, but at times like these I really wished for a cell phone.
Even though I had only been gone a short time, I was curious how Seattle was doing. The generator in Maria’s office led me to believe there still was no electricity. At least not constant. Had anything been done, or was Seattle still stuck in the waiting game?
Carlos marched me across the road, giving me no opportunity to get any of my questions answered before hauling me through the doors of a warehouse. Another one vacated, left for gangs like the Scorpions to take over.
The bustling noise of people talking and laughing echoed off the tall roof. Thirty or more tables lined one side of the warehouse, the other filled with cots. More than a hundred women and younger girls lounged across tables and beds. Makeshift lighting connected to generators spotted the room, giving a low glow to the darkening space. A cafeteria-type space sat at the far end of the building. More women in aprons went in and out of the back doors into another room, bringing food in large tin containers and placing them inside the buffet station. Seven guards stood around the premises, guns hooked to their waists. Seven guards could be taken down by a hundred girls who were trained fighters. But compared to what was outside the penitentiary, inside seemed a better option. Food, bed, clothes. If they left, where would they go? And if you did escape, Duc didn’t seem like the type of man who would simply let you go. He would track you down and kill you.
A group of girls who played cards at the first table looked up when Carlos walked in. Their eyes landing on me, analyzing me from top to bottom.
“Fresh meat,” a girl cackled, her black eyes flashing. She yelled to the room beh
ind her, “We got a newbie, ladies.” Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me.
Just like prison these girls were deciding quickly to either take me down or make me their bitch. I would be neither. There was a reason they called me the Avenging Angel. I couldn’t match a bullet, but I could fight any one of these girls.
Carlos gripped my arm. “You don’t want to fuck with this one, Jada.”
“This tiny white girl? Pleeease.” She waved her hand at me. “I wouldn’t even have to get out of my seat.”
Carlos smirked and tugged me to follow him. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Rewind four years and I would’ve ripped out of Carlos’ hold to show Jada how much she’d misjudged me. I could protect myself, but I didn’t have the desire to battle for no reason like I used to. Since meeting Ryker, my bloodlust had plummeted, probably because during my time with Ryker my fights were not about releasing my pent-up anger or proving myself. They were life and death.
Also, being with him made me happy. Nothing kills your savagery like happiness. Damn him. He was making me soft.
“You know, if they find out who you really are, it will cause more problems for you.” Carlos turned us in the direction of the stairs. The setup of this warehouse was similar to the one across the street, so I easily took the lead up the steps.
“I can handle them.”
He scoffed. “There are over one hundred fighters here. Each one would love to claim they took down the Avenging Angel.”
He was right. A dozen or so I could handle. One hundred sounded exhausting.
A guard standing at the entrance of the stairs nodded at Carlos and stepped out of our way. His eyes widened at me, and a curse mumbled from his mouth. Another one of Marcello’s men who remembered me.
“I seemed to have made an impression on you guys.”
“Let’s say you and your friend left a mark.” Carlos’ lip hooked up even higher than normal in a sneer. “I will be extremely surprised if you make it out of here alive. I’d keep one eye open when you sleep. Too many of us want you dead.”
The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) Page 19