by L. A. Casey
“But he said the end of the week,” Kade stressed. “He promised me.”
Big Phil considered this, then looked at me, and said, “Kane, what do you think I should do?”
He’s asking me?
I looked up at Big Phil and said, “Why’re you asking me?”
“‘Cause I want your opinion.”
I looked at Kade then back at Big Phil.
“If Marco gave him a deadline, then he should stick to it. I think you should leave him alone.”
Big Phil grinned. “Is that so?”
I nodded.
He looked at Kade, and said, “You can have your original deadline back. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Kade looked like the weight of the world just fell off his shoulders. He thanked Big Phil, said goodbye to me, then locked his front door behind us when we left his house. I followed Big Phil back to the car, and when I was buckled into my seat, I turned to look at him. I sucked in a strangled breath when he reached out and swiped something across my face.
He grabbed my head and forced it down to my knees with one hand while the other went to my neck. It took a few seconds for pain to register, and for me to realise that Big Phil had just slashed my face and cut up the back of my neck. I pressed my hands to the wounds, then looked at them to find them covered with blood. I quickly removed my T-shirt and pressed it against my cheek, applying heavy pressure, while I flattened my palm on the back of my neck.
“Why?” I choked. “What’d I do?”
“You sided against me in there when you shouldn’t have. That was a lesson, and you just learned it the hard way. You need to be reminded who owns you, boy.”
His demeanour and tone was so calm. He didn’t act like he just cut me; in fact, he looked as if that action was part of his daily routine. Knowing him, it probably was.
“The bleeding,” I said, feeling my body tremble. “It won’t stop.”
“We’ll get you patched up back at the compound.”
He drove us home then, and just like the drive to Kade’s house, it was entirely silent. Tears stung at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I held my breath whenever I thought a sob would escape, and eventually, the urge to cry passed, but the pain remained and stung terribly. When we reached the compound, I got out of the car, and without a word to Big Phil, I ran towards my family’s wing. I ignored him when he shouted after me, but I did turn to face him when I stepped inside my home.
“What?” I demanded, tossing my bloody soaked shirt at his feet as he came to a stop in front of me. “What the fuck do you want from me?”
“One day, Marco will give you to me.” Big Phil sneered. “You’re going to be my little puppet, and when I say jump, you’ll say how high. I’ll make you bleed worse than you are now before you ever disrespect me again, boy.”
I glared at Big Phil as I reached out and gripped the door handle.
“That may be true,” I spat. “But until that day, you can go and fuck yourself.”
I slammed the door in his face and hearing him kick the door and curse made me smile. I knew that I had just made an enemy out of the man, and he would most likely make me pay for it, but at that very moment, I got the better of him, and it made me as happy as a pig in shit.
“What the fuck is going on?”
I turned to face Ryder when he jogged down the stairs. He came to a stop at the end of the stairs for just a second before he widened his eyes and rushed towards me. He grabbed hold of my chin when I turned to look at from me, and when he examined my face, and my wound, his eyes darkened. He turned me so he could see my neck, and I heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Who did this to you?”
Big Phil had already stormed away from our home, and I was glad because I didn’t want him to attack my brother.
“What’s wrong with my neck?” I asked, ignoring the question. “It’s just cuts.”
“It ... it spells a name.”
My heart stopped. “What name?”
“Marco.”
You needed to be reminded who owns you, boy
Hate filled me. Hate for Marco. Hate for Big Phil. Hate for my father for not protecting me from them like he was supposed to do.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, stepping away from him. “Nothing can be done about it, so there’s no point in talking about it.”
Ryder followed me into one of the downstairs bathroom and watched me as I retrieved a first-aid kit. I hadn’t realised until then that my hands were slightly shaking. My brother stepped forward and silently held his hand out for the kit. I sighed and handed it to him as I jumped up on the counter and sat beside the sink. My brother shook his head as he cleaned the blood from my face, and it made me swallow.
“Does it look bad?”
Ryder didn’t have to speak for me to know the answer to my question. His eyes told me everything I needed to know.
“Fuck,” I said, forcing a smile. “Alec will definitely be the prettiest brother now.”
My brother didn’t smile, and it made me lose mine.
“It’s only a cut, Ry.”
“Only a cut?” he repeated, his voice rough. “It’s over four inches in length, and it’s deep enough that you’ll not be able to hide the scar it’ll cause. This is your fucking face, Kane. Tell me who did this to you?”
I felt Ryder’s anger for the one who hurt me, but nothing could overshadow the concern and worry that I knew he felt. He was only three years older than Alec, five years older than me, and ten years older than the twins, and he held the weight of the world on his shoulders when it came to me and my brothers. He took care of all of us, he always had, and I couldn’t begin to imagine how hard that was for him. He was only twenty-one, and he had the responsibilities of a grown man with four kids in a world where crime was our way of life.
“Ryder, you can’t do anything to him.”
“To who?”
“Big Phil.”
Ryder’s lips parted with surprised. “Why the fuck did he slash your face and carve Marco’s name into your neck? Why were you even around him?”
“Dad made me go with him for the day. Big Phil said my future within our family was to be like him.” I looked down. “I don’t wanna do what he does, Ryder. He hurts people.”
“Did he make you do something you didn’t want to today?”
I shook my head. “This man, Kade, owed Marco money. He didn’t have the money yet because Marco gave him a deadline of the end of the week. Big Phil asked me what I thought about it, and I told him that Marco should respect a deadline if he gave it. He cut me because I sided against him. He said it was a lesson I had to learn the hard way. He put Marco’s name on me to remind me who owned me.”
When I looked up at my Ryder, his face was passive.
“Big Phil said one day I’d be his puppet. That Marco would give me to him, and that he’d make me bleed before I ever disrespected him again.”
My brother looked like he was about to explode.
“I’ll kill him.”
I didn’t react to Ryder’s threat because I knew it only came from a place of anger. He knew that he could never touch Big Phil. That man was too deep in with our father and Marco; he was a right-hand man, so he was virtually untouchable. I remained silent as he cleaned up my face. I winced a couple of times, but once he stuck on a few paper stitches, I relaxed. He cleaned up my neck, then placed a large gauze over it and secured it with medical tape.
“Those might come off when it starts to swell,” Ryder said, nodded towards the paper stitches, as he cleaned away the items used to clean away my blood. “We’ll have to call the doc if that happens or if you get an infection.”
I nodded, and Ryder regarded me for a moment.
“I’m going to do what I can to keep Big Phil off your back, okay?” he said. “I’m not going to let him hurt you again.”
I knew he believed that, and I knew he would go to any length possible to keep me safe, but I wasn’t stupid. I saw the look in
Big Phil’s eye when he threatened me. He said one day I would be his puppet, and I knew that day would eventually come to pass. Evil outweighed good in our compound, and when someone who was cold as Big Phil marked you as his, then he owned you, one way or the other.
“I know, Ry.” I smiled. “That’s why I’m not worried.”
If I had to smile and lie to appease my brother to save him some worry, then I would. Big Phil had said to my dad that by the end of the day I would be a changed person, and he was right. I saw evil up close and personal and knew that evil would find me one day. I couldn’t be ignorant and think staying away from the people my dad did business with would keep them away from me forever. I had to be sensible and prepare for the day when the life Big Phil led would become my own.
There was no escape once you reached the pits of hell. No one came to help you out, but plenty of hands where there to keep you down.
CHAPTER THREE
Twenty-years old ...
* * *
“Kane!”
I jolted awake, sat upright in my bed, and stared at the figure by my bedroom door. Suddenly, the light in my room was switched on, and I lifted my hand to block the beam.
“Get up,” a rough voice demanded. “We have work to do.”
Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I lowered my arm and squinted my eyes at the intruder in my room before my eyes narrowed to slits. I said nothing as I threw the bed covers away from my body and quickly got dressed. I felt his eyes on me as I pulled on my boots and tied the laces. I stood, lifted my head, and looked Big Phil in the eyes.
“Where are we going?”
“To settle a score.”
My heart stopped. For a few months since I’d become his personal monkey, Big Phil had been showing up at random times throughout my day and night to enlist me into bullshit schemes. I never had to do anything, just shadow him for no other reason than he made me, but tonight ... this was the first time I had to actually do anything since I had become an enforcer for Marco.
Four months ago, my parents had double-crossed him in a bid to make some extra money, and they paid for that with their lives. I didn’t care about their deaths when I first heard about it, and I didn’t care about it now. The only thing I cared about, the only thing that kept me and my brothers from fleeing this godforsaken life, was the threat over my brother Damien’s head. Having killed Marco’s nephew in a fight that turned deadly, he had a life debt to repay, and me and my brothers were the ones working it off.
“Who’s coming with us?”
“It’s just me and you tonight.”
Fuck.
I followed him out of my room, out of the house, then down to the lower floors of the compound. I never came down here, not even to attend parties in the pleasure rooms. We walked down lengthy halls and suddenly came to a stop in front of a set of large black doors. Other than hearing the night watch laugh and joke around, it was completely silent. It gave me a bad feeling, but there wasn’t a damn thing that I could do about it. Big Phil entered the room without a word, and I followed him. I came to an abrupt halt when the coppery twang of blood filled my nostrils. My eyes locked on the person in the centre of the dimly lit room, and my hear pounded against my chest.
“Jesus Christ.”
The man’s hands were bound with a rope and hoisted above his head. Hanging from the ceiling was a large chain and the rope was tied to the end of it. To my left was a table with knives and other devices coated with blood. I fought the urge to vomit. The man had deep lacerations all over his naked body, there was puddle of blood under him, and his skin was so pale I knew he was minutes away from dying in front of me.
“What the fuck is this?”
“This,” Big Phil said, “is Hector Gomez. Hector is a narc for the feds, and you know the punishment for that.”
I wanted to run away.
“Yeah,” I said, “death, so what the fuck is this?”
“Marco just told me to kill him. He never told me in what way.”
Big Phil’s grin was sinister, and it disgusted me.
“You’re a sick cunt.”
He laughed, unbothered.
“That may be so, but I still have a task that I’ve yet to complete.”
When he looked at Hector, I froze. “So complete it.”
I felt so unbelievably heartbroken for the man before me, but in his current condition, I knew that death would be a mercy for him. He was mortally wounded, and though he was unconscious, I knew he was in severe pain. Big Phil had tortured him for his own sick amusement. I thought I couldn’t possibly think worse of the man than I already did, but he proved me wrong.
“Finishing this job is what you’re here for.”
I stepped back, my eyes widening to the point of pain.
“I’m not killing anyone,” I stated. “I’m just supposed to—”
“You’re supposed to do what I say,” Big Phil interrupted. “And I say that you have to kill him.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I can’t. I won’t.”
“Do you know what the difference between choking and strangling is?”
I blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
I hesitated, and Big Phil grinned.
“Choking is when something is stuck in your throat, and strangling is when you forcefully restrict a person’s ability to breathe by wrapping something around their throat.”
I didn’t move an inch.
“Being strangled is an awful way to die, I presume, and that experience will be one your little brother experiences if you don’t fall in line and do what you’re told.”
My body went rigid. “Don’t threaten my brother.”
“Don’t threaten him?” Big Phil repeated in disbelief. “Son, I’ll take his life in front of you if you slack on a job again.”
Fury flowed through my veins quickly followed by frustration and helplessness because there was nothing I could do to Big Phil without it hurting my brother.
“Are we clear?”
“Yeah,” I grunted. “We’re clear.”
“Kill Hector ... with your bare hands.”
I felt tears well in my eyes, but I turned my head so Big Phil couldn’t see me. I knew if I asked for a gun, he would think of a more brutal way for Hector to die. I slowly approached Hector who began to regain consciousness. He opened one of his swollen eyes and looked at me. He rasped something in Spanish that I didn’t understand.
“He’s begging you to kill him.”
My tears fell and splashed onto my cheeks. Hector saw them, and his body relaxed as much as it could considering its current state. He smiled at me, or at least I thought he did. I felt his acceptance at what was about to happen, and I believed that he saw in my eyes that I didn’t want to hurt him. He closed his wounded eye and exhaled a long breath.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” I whispered. “I’m doing this for my brother. Please, forgive me.”
I closed my eyes as I started the beating. Through the crunching of bones, and the screams of agony, I forced my mind to retreat to a safe place. One where I wasn’t the evil thing ending someone’s life. Somewhere where I could pretend I was a good man and had a good life. When the screams stopped, I turned away and promptly vomited onto the floor. Big Phil laughed at me.
“You’re a man now, Kane, my boy.”
“I’m not your boy,” I snarled as I frantically rubbed my hands on my clothes to rid myself of Hector’s blood. “I’m nothing to you.”
“That is where you’re wrong,” he answered. “I own you.”
I didn’t reply.
“One more task, and you can hop back to bed.”
I closed my eyes when the doors to the room open and a woman’s screams could be heard. Those screams intensified when she entered the room. It was a scream filled with so much agony, I felt it seep down into my bones. A chill ran the length of my spine when the women wailed, “Hector!”
She spoke rapidly in Spanish, and when Hector did
n’t answer her, she cried until she made no sound.
“This is Hector’s wife,” Big Phil said. “Also a narc for the feds.”
I lowered my head.
“You know what I’m going to tell you, Kane.”
I did. He was going to ask me to take a woman’s life.
“I can’t hurt a woman,” I choked. “I can’t. I won’t.”
“Kane—”
“No!” I snapped. “I’m not hurting her!”
There was a moment of silence, then Big Phil sighed and said, “Do you remember what happened the last time you disobeyed me?”
He cut my face, and carved Marco’s name into my flesh.
“I don’t care,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t care. I won’t hurt her.”
Big Phil was the picture of rage as he jerked his head to his men. They dragged Hector’s silent wife, bound her wrists, and strung her up next to him. When the men grabbed hold of me, I didn’t even fight them as they did the same to me. My heart pounded into my chest as my sweater and T-shirt were cut away from my body, leaving my torso bare. I struggled against the ropes, and they burned my wrists. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at Big Phil or his men as they moved about the room. I tensed when they moved behind me, and I could no longer see them.
“You’ll learn not to disrespect me, boy,” Big Phil hissed. “On my life, you will learn.”
There was sickening crack in the air, then something searing hot licked my back. I sucked in a strangled breath but didn’t have time to focus on the pain that tore across my back because whatever was used to hit me, slapped into my back repeatedly. When the woman beside me had her shirt removed, and the crack sounded, her body jerked, and she screamed so loud it made me choke on words meant to comfort her. She received lash after lash, and so did I. Eventually, my screams blended with the woman’s until I didn’t know where hers ended or mine began, but in the end, her screams faded to nothing as her life left her body while mine echoed throughout the silent compound.
As my body broke down, my mind strengthened. Big Phil had proven that he could do what he wanted to me once I disobeyed him. He proved that I was his puppet, that he owned me ... that was all true, but one thing he would never own was my spirit. He could rip my body apart, but he wouldn’t never break me. I swore on everything that I loved that he would never get the chance, and that was a promise I intended to keep.