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Redemptive (Combative Trilogy #2)

Page 2

by Jay McLean


  His brother sighed. “You don’t have to belong here either, Steve.”

  Steven laughed. “A little late for all that.”

  But maybe he was wrong.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  Maybe we could save each other.

  3

  For minutes Steven just stood there, watching the taillights of his brother’s car as it moved farther away from us. “Are you okay?” I asked, stepping beside him.

  He pulled out his phone and looked down at it, lost in a world of his own thoughts. Tapping the phone a few times, he distractedly murmured a “yeah” before lifting it to his ear.

  “Watcha got?” he mumbled, turning away from me. “Yeah,” he continued, his eyes darting to mine quickly. “I know where it is. I’ll meet you there.”

  After hanging up, he looked over at me. It was too dark to make out his expression, but when he took a step forward, I instinctively took a step back. He sighed and took my hands in his, comforting me again. “I need to meet up with a friend real quick.”

  “I thought we were just going to go back to your—”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I promise it won’t take long.”

  I agreed. Not because I wanted to, but because I had no choice. It was a comfortable bed and a roof for the night as opposed to going back to my dumpster.

  After five minutes of walking and my suspicions escalating with every step, I finally asked, “Where are we going?”

  His grip on my hand tightened as he led me through the darkness, our feet sloshing through the muddy grass while we walked through the field surrounded by carefree teenagers. What I’d give to be them. I wondered if they could tell, if they could take one look at me and know I was different. “We’re almost there.” And even though I had no idea where we were, or what we were doing, in that moment, the only thing I could trust was his hand on mine.

  “Steven Parker,” I heard, and my eyes moved everywhere all at once.

  Steven stopped.

  A loud chuckle echoed through our surroundings, but the only thing I could make out were bushes and the track we were walking on.

  “Took your time,” the same voice from earlier said.

  My eyes moved to the sound of rustling bushes to my right. “You brought a friend,” the guy sang, coming into view. He was in his mid-thirties, from what I could tell. The smell of cigarettes and booze oozed off him, and when he stepped closer, the odor doubled. He eyed me up and down, the corner of his mouth lifting higher the longer he stared.

  Steven stepped forward, shielding me. “You got it?” he asked.

  The guy scoffed and smiled wider, showing his lack of teeth. “You know I do.”

  Steven reached into his pocket.

  And it finally hit me… it was a drug deal.

  I should’ve known.

  I should’ve moved.

  Should’ve run away.

  But I did neither.

  “New rule,” the dealer said, stepping closer. “We’ve had too many narcs on our back. Too many close calls—”

  “What’s that got to do with me, Pauly?” Steven cut in. “You know I’m good.”

  The guy chuckled, then started to turn away.

  Steven opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. “You don’t need it,” I said, grabbing his arm, trying to pull him away. “Let’s just go, okay?”

  He shook off my hand and looked down at me. I could tell he wanted to say something, to convince me that he did. He needed it. And I could see it in his eyes, eyes filled with stone cold desperation. A familiar look I’d seen too many times. From my dad. From his girlfriend. From the men and women who would come into the house.

  I swallowed nervously and stepped back, wondering how the fuck I went from trusting him completely—to this.

  “Fine,” he said, his tone clipped and his eyes fixed on mine. But he wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to his dealer. I dropped my gaze, too angry to face him.

  He’d let me down.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  I should’ve been used to it.

  I stood still, my fists balled at my sides. I was angry, I was sad, but most of all, I was disappointed—in Steven, for who he turned out to be, and in me for hoping… for just hoping.

  Keeping my eyes down, I tried to ignore their exchange, tried not to listen as Steven told him he had the money. My eyes shut tighter when I heard the familiar sound of a single snort, a single bump of cocaine.

  Steven cleared his throat, the moment over. “Thanks, man,” he said. “I needed that.”

  Bile rose in my throat, and I opened my eyes, looking everywhere but at them, trying to find the quickest way out. Footsteps crunched on the gravel of the path, moving closer and closer. “Yo,” a voice called out.

  “Relax,” Pauly said, “It’s just PJ.”

  A moment later, PJ came into view. “We gotta go. Boss got a call out to a different location,” he said, stopping for a moment when he saw me standing there.

  I took a step back, away from all three of them, and then another step, and another. Steven must have noticed because he rushed over, holding my hand again. He squeezed once. “We’ll go now, okay? Promise.”

  I didn’t believe him.

  “Payment, asshole,” Pauly said, and the weed and coke must have started affecting Steven because he laughed.

  “You got it, man.” He released my hand to reach into his pocket then pulled out his wallet, and then he froze, his eyes focused on the content.

  “You gotta be kidding me,” Pauly said, but there was amusement in his words.

  “I swear I had a twenty,” Steven whispered.

  My stomach dropped to the floor, and my voice shook when I said, “You gave it to me.”

  “Fuck.” Steven looked up at Pauly. “You know I’m good, man. I’ll hit you up next time.”

  Pauly sighed, shaking his head from side to side. Slowly, he reached behind him.

  A tiny squeal escaped me when his gun came into view.

  “Whoa!” Steven moved in front of me. “I’ll get you the money. Jesus Christ, put that shit away!”

  “You got five minutes,” Pauly clipped, his voice even.

  Steven grabbed my hand again.

  Pauly laughed once, pointing the gun at me. “She stays. Collateral.”

  My heart thumped hard against my chest.

  “I’m not leaving without her,” Steven said.

  Pauly lifted the gun higher.

  “Just go,” I told Steven. “Be quick.”

  “No. I’m not—”

  “Go!” I was pissed. At him. At myself. At the entire goddamn world. “Just go,” I repeated, and made up my mind that I’d rather be on the streets doing everything I could to avoid shit like this. There was no fucking way I’d be going anywhere with him after this.

  Steven turned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and bending down so we were eye to eye. “I’ll be back.”

  I avoided his gaze.

  He left.

  I stayed.

  “Tick tock,” Pauly said.

  PJ laughed. “Tick tock, indeed.”

  *

  “I don’t think he’s coming back.” Pauly laughed, kicking my shoe with his. My chest tightened. Because Pauly was right; Steven wasn’t coming back. And I hated myself for believing him, for putting my trust in a stranger.

  I held my bag to my chest, ignoring the mud seeping through my jeans as I sat on the ground, my heart racing.

  I was on my eighth round of counting to two hundred.

  “Tick tock,” PJ mumbled around his smoke.

  “Tick tock,” Pauly repeated, squatting down in front of me.

  I held my breath, not wanting them to see, or hear, the fear building inside me.

  He raised his gun, inching it closer to my face. “I’m sure a pretty girl like you could find a way to make up his debt.” The cold steel of the gun pressed against my cheek, moving up the side of my face and to my ear as he moved the hai
r behind it.

  I released a breath, my heart pounding.

  “Such a pretty girl,” he said slowly, sprays of his foul spit landing on my cheek.

  “So pretty,” PJ agreed, stepping toward us.

  Pauly placed a hand on my leg, creeping higher and higher.

  I pushed my feet off the ground, scooting away from him.

  He let out an evil laugh, one that echoed through the still, night air.

  His grip on my leg tightened while the hand holding the gun pushed on my other leg, spreading me open for him.

  “Get your hands off me,” I seethed, my eyes boring into his.

  PJ laughed.

  I raised my hands and pushed against Pauly’s chest, but it was useless.

  His face came closer. I tried in vain to push him away. “Get off!” I screamed as his body covered mine, pressing my back into the ground.

  I kicked my legs wildly trying to get him off me, but my fight was his source of pleasure… his encouragement to keep going. “Get off!”

  He kissed my cheek.

  I swallowed the puke.

  His breath was hot, his voice hoarse. “It’s easier if you don’t fight it.”

  I looked up at PJ, pleading with him to help me, but he just smiled, this sinister fucking smile that made me believe it was over.

  Pauly’s rough hand made its way under my clothes and onto the bare skin of my waist.

  I almost cried.

  Almost.

  Everything I’d survived.

  Every day I hid.

  Every moment I fled.

  It was all for nothing.

  Pauly’s hand moved down my waist. “Please stop,” I begged, even though I knew he wouldn’t.

  “Fuck this is gon’ be good,” Pauly said into my neck. He pressed himself into me, and I almost gave in.

  Almost.

  But then words spoken earlier between Steven and his brother came to the forefront of my mind.

  Don’t let ’em take it.

  They were talking about their dad, but to me, it meant so much more.

  I sucked in a breath, composing myself.

  I had two choices.

  Fight or die.

  I made the choice.

  I fought.

  I raised my hips off the ground, attempting to push him away.

  “What’d I say, girl?” Pauly said through gritted teeth. “It’ll be easier if you just give yourself to me.”

  “Fuck you.” I spat in his face. “I’d rather you kill me!”

  He wiped my spit from his face and smiled. “Maybe I will,” he whispered, pressing his gun to my bare stomach. “After I’ve had my fun with you, whore.”

  I choked on a gasp.

  In my mind, I knew it’d only been minutes, seconds even, since he spoke his first words to me, but the fight felt eternal.

  I tried again to kick him off me, but he kept his body over mine, making sure I had no way out. My hand seemed to move on its own to the gun between us. Sweat dripped from his forehead and onto mine as I writhed beneath him. My heart was racing, my hands shaking. “Get. Off. ME!” I screamed louder than I had in years. My throat closed as I saw the evil in his eyes. He lifted off me slightly and popped the button on my jeans, tugging them down past my hips and exposing me to him. Then he pressed the gun firmer into me, his spare hand rising and coming down harshly across my face.

  I screamed out in pain while PJ stood over us, laughing.

  Blood filled my mouth.

  Don’t let ’em take it.

  My hand gripped the gun tighter as I tried to free myself from under him.

  But he knew.

  He was fast.

  So fast.

  He pinned me down with his entire body, and I swear he screamed out, almost joyfully, a newfound determination filling his eyes. I pulled my free hand from between us and pushed on his face, turning it away from me.

  PJ stood above me, bending down to grasp my wrist and placed it to my side. He stomped harshly on my hand and kept it there. “Take it,” he told Pauly. “Fuckin’ take her.”

  My cheek stung as Pauly’s palm made contact again.

  I stayed silent—a piece of me dying as his hand covered my breast, squeezing once, before making its way down my body and between my legs. His fingers moved slowly down my mound. I shut my eyes, my throat closing when I felt a single finger start to invade me.

  “Take it,” PJ encouraged.

  And my eyes snapped open.

  Don’t let ’em take it.

  My fingers tightened on the gun.

  A single gunshot sounded.

  All air left my lungs.

  And then…

  Darkness.

  4

  Nate

  Screams filled my ears.

  I looked over at Tiny, his eyes wide as he stood there frozen, hundreds of kids partying in the field running in all directions around us. “What the fuck?” Tiny said.

  I pulled out my phone and dialed Pauly’s number. The phone connected after what seemed like an eternity, but it wasn’t Pauly, it was PJ. “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked, my eyes darting everywhere for a source of the sound.

  “Boss. You need to come. QUICK!”

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  “The path behind the field.”

  I hung up and ran toward the path with Tiny far, far behind me.

  A million scenarios ran through my mind, but none of them could have prepared me for what I saw when PJ came into view.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, adrenaline spiking my veins. I looked over at PJ, who was pacing, hands linked behind his head.

  “What the hell happened?”

  My heart hammered as I looked back down at the pool of blood right next to my foot. I followed the trail to Pauly. Or at least, I thought it was him. He was laying still, a girl beneath him. “What the fuck did you guys do?” I almost shouted. “Swear to God, PJ, you better start talkin’.”

  I kicked the side of Pauly’s limp body, rolling him to his side. I couldn’t see the wound, but blood covered his shirt, the stain spreading wider the longer I looked at it.

  Then I heard it.

  The heavy release of her breath.

  My eyes snapped to the girl and her eyes shut tight, her chest heaving up and down. Her sweatshirt was raised, exposing her stomach. Every single part of her was still, everything but the hand holding the gun. “Fuck.”

  My eyes moved down her body; blood covered her waist all the way down to where her jeans were pulled past her hips.

  I choked on a gasp.

  Rage filled me.

  I pulled my gun from my waistband and pointed it at PJ’s head. “Did you fuckin’ rape her?”

  He threw his hands up, shaking his head quickly. “I didn’t fuckin’ touch her.”

  “Boss Man,” Tiny panted, finally caught up and standing next to me. “We gotta clear out.”

  I could barely hear him over the beating of my heart. “Get the van, PJ.”

  PJ dropped his hands, his gaze moving from me to the girl on the ground. “She killed Pauly,” he spat out. A snarl pulled on his lips as he reached behind him. “She killed one of our men, and you’re pointing the gun at me?”

  “Hey!” Tiny yelled, but I ignored him and took slow steps until the barrel made contact with PJ’s head.

  I fisted his shirt, feeling him tense beneath my touch. Then I leaned into his ear; my words meant only for him. “If I find out you’ve laid a hand on her, I swear to God, I’ll hold you up and watch as she pulls the trigger and ends you. Get. The. Fucking. Van. Now.”

  He swallowed loudly, then pushed my hands off him and slowly backed away.

  I waited until he was out of sight before looking over at Tiny. “Keep an eye out,” I said, walking back over to the bodies. I squatted down next to the girl. “Are you hurt?”

  Her hand holding the gun shook harder, causing ripples through the blood pooled on her stomach.

  Her mouth opened
, and she whispered something, but I couldn’t make out what it was.

  I leaned in closer. “What did you say?”

  “Blood,” she whispered. “Everywhere.” Finally, she opened her eyes, and they immediately fixed on mine.

  “Boss Man,” Tiny interrupted.

  “What?” I answered over my shoulder.

  “Is Pauly dead?”

  I reached over and placed two fingers on Pauly’s wrist. Nothing. “Yes.”

  Tiny stepped closer. “What are we going to do?”

  I dropped my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know.”

  “PJ’s right,” Tiny said.

  “What the fuck is PJ right about?” I asked, slowly lifting the gun from the girl’s hand. She didn’t put up a fight. I doubt she even realized she was holding it.

  “She killed Pauly. PJ’s not going to let that slide. You can’t just let her go. She’ll be dead tomorrow.”

  The girl ran her hand across her stomach and brought it up to her face, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of blood smeared on her fingers.

  I felt a crack in my armor; the one I wore every damn day. “Shut up, Tiny.”

  “I’m just saying that—”

  “I said shut up!”

  “Boss—”

  “Just let me think, okay?”

  I tried to think, but I couldn’t focus. Not while Pauly lay dead and cold two feet away from me and the girl who had obviously killed him lay still, covered in blood, silent between us.

  The headlights of the van shone through some bushes, and I was finally able to see clearly. Blood wasn’t just on her stomach or her hands, there was blood on her face, dripping out of her mouth. There was a cut across her cheek and early signs of bruising. “What the hell did they do to you?” I whispered.

  The van door closed and PJ stepped out.

  “Put Pauly in the back,” I told Tiny, but my eyes were on hers. “Are you hurt?” I asked again.

  Her voice trembled. “I don’t…”

  “Can you sit up?”

  Tiny picked up Pauly like he weighed nothing. We both watched as the girl slowly sat up, burying her head between her knees. “You need to decide,” Tiny said, a hint of hesitation in his words.

  He knew he was pushing it.

 

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