by Sienna Evans
She sucked in her lips then pressed them firmly together as her eyelids lowered.
“Haven, huh?” he asked, adding pressure to the knife pressed to her neck with the other hand.
“You don't want to do this, man.” Brendan's words were steady, careful. They faded into the breeze because Celeste’s cries took over. I felt powerless to defend the woman I've wanted for what seemed like an eternity. I counted the flow of tears down her cheeks. Even when the glare was still there, I was drawn to her. My senses were attuned to hers. I saw the fear in her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. I saw the scared little girl I had fallen in love with so long ago and needed to save her.
While Brendan and the guy kept at the threats, he began dragging her further into the darkness. The shadows of buildings were about a second from taking her away.
And like Quinn, Celeste could end up gone. Dead.
I parted my lips to tell Brendan to finish this, but the words never came out. Sweat collected under my arms. Goosebumps swarmed over every inch of my body. Fear was the furthest thing from my mind. I would never be able to forgive myself if I caused him to slice Celeste's neck. The only thing going for me at this point happened to be the bargaining tactic of my brother's official training.
The guy kept tossing Celeste around whenever he thought Brendan had a clear shot. She yelped off and on, plucking apart every ounce of sanity I might've had if things weren’t so jacked up. Only hours ago, we were going through the motions of finally getting together. She controlled my emotions and owned my heart. Now Celeste was the weakest I’ve ever seen her.
I couldn’t risk her safety. With the guy focusing on Brendan, I dipped low and rushed around the opposite side of the car. Neither Brendan or Celeste's abductor saw me until it was too late. I chopped down on him with a quick fist, slamming at his jaw. The knife flipped out of his hand and clinked on the concrete ground.
I was on alert. Every sound, every movement came through like dynamite.
“Brendan, get her!” I ordered, not waiting to confirm that Celeste had made it into his arms. My mind sped up, the images around me swirled. This scum believed he could touch her and hold a knife to her neck.
I pounced on him as his assault on Celeste replayed in my mind―the knife, his hand, her throat and her tears. I forced my fist into his gut for every wrong move he might've made in this life and every foul step he’s ever taken.
Most importantly, I pounded him for daring to threaten the life of the only woman I have ever loved; no matter how much I didn't deserve her. From one fist to the next, I fed him my frustrations. He grunted, painfully. I breathed in when my arms retreated only to exhale when I backed the punches with the strength of a reckless man.
Celeste
Greyson transformed into a beast.
I'd like to believe otherwise, but this fight put him in a place I never saw before. By the time he'd thrown Jamison onto the concrete ground, his lips and jaw stretched tightly. His breathing was labored as each punch seemed to come with a grunt.
“Greyson!” I cried out, stepping closer. It was a dangerous place to be, but I didn’t care because although he was beating up Jamison, I worried.
"Stay close," Brendan barked, reaching for me.
It wasn't until he'd wrapped his arm around my waist, along the stretchy material of a subtle red mini that I noticed we'd drifted closer. Moreover, the muffled shouts from further inside of the club even started making sense. Cops swarmed down on us from either side of the alley.
"Break it up, fellas," one shouted at Greyson before two of them crashed him to the brick wall and held him there.
"No... Let him go." I yanked, tossing around in Brendan's arms. He pulled me into him. My back hit his chest. "Get off of me."
"Settle down, Celeste," Brendan pleaded. He pulled me aside and tried to shield me from the other cops.
"That's Greyson out there! Your brother," I said through gritted teeth.
"I know. He’ll be okay." Brendan was too calm all of a sudden.
“You have to do something more, if not for anyone else…for Greyson,” I begged, but he only kept me at bay.
As the alley became filled with more cops wielding flashlights and asking questions about the evening, I couldn't help but take notice of Brendan's behavior. After more than a half an hour of Greyson being questioned while being cuffed as his brother moved around unscathed, I leaned against the car Jamison had tossed me into.
This was meant to be the night I set things right for my cousin. I was supposed to go to battle with these men in their nest. I might've ended up dead, but I could've gotten to them and taken someone out. Any one of them!
My heart ached for my cousin’s life. Quinn's deep dimples were imprinted in my mind. The last time I'd seen her was too long ago. It was a warm and gorgeous summer night. She was both happy and carefree. She was there because of me. Got involved with these killers because of me. And eventually lost her life because of me.
She’d come up in a pair of baggy pink leggings and long-sleeved thermal. Her father, my mother’s brother, was Italian and mother of Bahamian descent, so this child had the most exotic features. Thick jet-black hair, pointed nose, outlined cheekbones and the most incredible complexion―Quinn would’ve been a stunning model someday.
“Where are we going?” she asked, plopping down on my dusty rose duvet at the time.
“First things first, Missy, you’re too pretty to be dressed like a bum.” I immediately began searching through my clothes bins for an outfit to match her exotic features.
“Dad dropped me off at Penn Station. You know he would’ve thrown a fit, Celeste. C’mon, that man has a conniption if I show my knees.”
We’d laughed for nearly five minutes because her assessment was spot-on. My uncle had always been the type to turn up at her school to investigate. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t a bad guy or severely overprotective, just cautious. And the fact that she was stunning didn’t help to reduce his fears.
Nine months wasn’t a long time yet being without someone you loved magnified it a dozen times over. Quinn’s disappearance had bothered me more than most because I lived with the guilt every, single day.
That was her first time out and men were drawn to her. I knew how to handle the advances, but Quinn ate it up. She’d thrown herself into the club life more than I ever had. So, when she went missing and the city became the target, what other conclusion could I come to?
My eyes burned. Tears escaped down my cheeks. I swiped the back of my hand from right to left and caught a glimpse of Brendan with his squad. They were curious about me, but he redirected their focus. Every time our gazes met, he’d smile or wink.
“Celeste…”
I’d gotten so caught up with studying Brendan that I hadn’t realized they’d finally removed the handcuffs from Greyson’s wrists. He stood a few feet away. I moved closer. I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He picked me up. I allowed my eyes to drift shut while my feet dangled, and my shoes slipped onto the ground. And like before, I didn’t care about the outside world.
“You couldn’t let the cops do their jobs, Celeste?”
“You don’t get it. Quinn—”
“No excuses.” Greyson shuffled forward, still carrying me in his arms. Using his thighs as a brace, he balanced me. I inhaled while trying not to gaze up into his eyes. “I could’ve killed him because of you. What if he’d hurt you?” His forehead touched to mine and he leaned me against the wall of a nearby brick wall. Everyone was too preoccupied to notice.
I shivered from up top to down below and everywhere in between.
“What if—”
“He didn't . . . You saved me.” My lips kissed his chest.
He shivered and stepped back so that he was now the one leaning back—this time against Jamison’s car.
I latched onto his cotton shirt with the edges of my teeth. “Can we leave now?”
Yeah, if only we were so lucky...
“
Greyson? Celeste?” We spun apart to see Brendan advancing closer, right up to where my back had been set to the wall just seconds ago. “What is going on here?”
Neither Greyson nor I said a word. What kind of response would be enough? We didn't break our embrace. Didn't try to reject each other. Up until now, this would've been nothing more than a desire. I didn't know how we'd work this one out, or how either of our families would accept a relationship between us.
Truthfully, I didn't care.
And I knew Greyson didn't either.
Greyson
“Celeste, Adam’s sister!” Brendan pounced on me the second Celeste stepped away to get checked out by medics. His eyes flared like a bull and he had a vice grip on my arm which only grew tighter by the second.
I shook him off, and then shoved both of my palms at his chest. He just about lost balance when he stumbled backwards. Everyone turned; even some readied themselves in case one of their own needed backup. Like the douche bag he's always been, Brendan tried to play it off.
“Mess with me again, and you’ll spend the weekend in jail.” His gaze hardened.
“I don't have time for this, man,” I quickly replied. God, I was ready to get away. I needed to get Celeste home and back to safety. We had years of catching up to do.
“I'm just going to get right to the point, Greyson.” He paused to run his fingers through his hair, which matched my color. The only difference was in the buzzed sides. “Celeste? You're doing Celeste now?”
I wanted to punch him in the gut for even using her name in a sentence like that. There was no “doing Celeste.” But instead of responding or even trying to explain my new relationship, I sidestepped him on my way to her.
“Greyson, don't you dare walk away from me!” Brendan believed he had pull over me because of the year he had on me. Let me make this clear, there was absolutely nothing else he could've held over me, not even his job everyone praised.
By this point, every one of his men had paused, though their eyes weren't entirely focused on us. But the shifting around had stopped, while the alley became almost dead-like. I couldn't understand what had happened between the fighting on the inside and the silence now taking over on the outside. Things were off, and in a major way. On and off electricity traveled up and down my shoulders as I considered whether to take another step in Celeste's direction or confront my dumbass brother. He made the choice when an arm settled heavily on my shoulder.
I spun around.
Before I could get a word out, Brendan’s fist landed on my chin. It was like time stopped for me. Years of pent up frustration towards my crooked brother seen as the golden child surface. The stench of garbage from several bags to our right reached my nose. I gagged while my fingers curled into my palms and every vein throbbed. My breathing sped up and within a second, I was preparing to pounce on Brendan. Brother or no brother, we had a screwed-up history. Nothing could change that this late in the game.
When my fist landed against the side of his face, I finally exhaled. I was like a caged animal locked up for decades. And although he tried to stumble away from the constant blows, I rained down on him, he couldn't get away quickly enough. Even when his own wide-armed swings only succeeded in breezing past my head as I dipped from side to side, I didn't let up. It wasn't until I heard a screech in the thick night air that I took a break from kicking and swinging on Brendan’s.
“Stop it, Greyson!” Celeste cried.
All I could think was that she's never seen this side of me. And I knew too well how much of a monster I really could be deep down inside. Moreover, my anger couldn't always fall in line. I'd never forgive myself if I lost my shit and hurt her. So, I forced myself to take slower breaths, while remaining still with my arms hanging rigid at my sides.
“C’mon Greyson…”
But then her voice didn't matter. About five guns clicked around us simultaneously. I looked up from my brother, whose face was swelling by the second. Behind him was a dingy, coral brick building. Everywhere else, cops pointed loaded barrels directly at me from just about every angle. If Celeste hadn't been standing only inches away from me, being held back by one of the men and screaming like the end of the world was here, I would've tried to fight my way out. The memories of what was in the past tried like hell to pull me back into the darkness, but I refused to let them.
I wouldn't.
Not today.
Not again.
And then one of the men yelled, “Get on the ground!”
Maybe it was the command. I couldn't be too sure because I stopped considering everything else that should've kept me in check. From a few steps away, just below a light, that smug grim of Brendan's taunted me. It reminded me of why I was not and might never be good enough in a family that was unforgiving in every sense of the word. And so, I bolted for the phony prick. But they caught me. Four men—one from each side—slammed into me. Next thing I knew, I was thrown onto the grimy concrete ground.
“Hey…hey, you need to cooperate with us, otherwise we’ll use force,” one of the officers with a weak voice warned.
I tried breaking loose by rolling from one side to the next as they struggled to secure me on the ground. These policemen were like flies, with the exception of their guns and sticks. “What are you doing?” I was able to ask, considering that my words were huskier since my chest was against the concrete.
Each of the cops had taken a region of my body. They weren’t worried about causing a scene with me, even though everyone had rushed out of the club’s backdoor. Brendan was pressed against the car tire of the guy I'd just beat up. My brother was slouched and barely moving, with the exception of his sly grin. He was drenched in blood, right down to his button-down shirt. Sporting a swollen eye and lumped up nose, he was done for.
I remembered bits and pieces of everything from the fight after I'd blacked out. Brendan did what he does best, push me over the edge. That triggered my attack…my defense had gone all the way up. But that much damage? To my brother?
Every time I thought I could run away from crap, it found me. I was like a magnet for trouble. My family would have loved to see this play out; might've even cheered me on throughout the entire ordeal, just so they could have something else to hate about me. Years ago, I would have gladly embraced the life, but not anymore. Everything that I once knew, all that I once was, started with my brother and should've ended a long time ago.
Celeste
“You’re going to let them take Greyson away? Not going to stop them, Brendan?” The words tumbled from my lips. I wrapped my fingers around the base of my neck and cradled it. “You pushed him!” I spun to my right and began swinging at Brendan. To hell with the fact that he was already bruised from head to toes. “That's your brother!”
“Celeste,” he mumbled while barely dodging from left to right. “What is up with you two?”
I made up my mind to keep my lips gripped tight on the subject of my new relationship with Greyson. Something inside had me believing Brendan wasn't okay with this and that might've been the trigger which set off Greyson’s reaction.
“Don't think my men won't take you down too and drag you off with your piece of shit boyfriend,” he blazed back at me. Those words caught me off guard.
Seriously though… piece of shit boyfriend?
Brendan yanked me into his body, even forced my chest to hit up against his again. I tried to break free by throwing my body around. He didn’t budge much, only stood there and seemed to enjoy this. I stopped swaying enough to think him.
“You're kidding me, right?” My limbs burned. Every inch of me he’d touched, stung. I've known him since before puberty lost all respect and clout in that moment. Making one final tug, I was able to get out of his grip, but only because he let loose. Placing one foot keenly behind the other, taking time to settle my heels securely behind me, I studied the grin now spread across Brendan’s lips. He his eyes grew darker like Grey’s stormy ones, but Brendan was supposed to be the saint.
Saint my ass!
Most of the cops had left, with the exception of two. Everyone from behind the doors of the club were now going about their business like nothing had happened. And the only two guys to get carried away were Jamison and Greyson. But Brendan, and the way he seemed to fit right in with the Russians who'd had a hand in Quinn's death felt wrong beyond belief.
“Whatever you have going with Greyson needs to end now!” He ran his tongue over the swollen, bloody part of his lips and grinned uncomfortably. His eyes twinkled like he felt empowered.
“And if I don't?”
“That’s not an option, Celeste. You know your parents wouldn't approve. And your brother… He'd blow the up. Imagine him flying in from halfway across the world to kill Greyson.” Taking two steps closer he added, “Not beat up, but kill Greyson.”
He might as well have punched me in the gut. My hands slipped down to my stomach. I wrapped each arm along my midsection as the words sunk in. Seriously though, this was no exaggeration. As close as Brendan, Greyson and Adam, who was now overseas with the Navy, were the lines was drawn when it came to me? Were they etched in stone for all eternity?
“I don’t need this, Brendan. You’re the worst!”
So, I grabbed my bag from the seat of Jamison’s car and convinced myself to remain calm while I strolled away from the dark alley. One of Brendan's men tried to offer himself as an escort, but I wanted nothing to do with any them. At least, I could be thankful Jamison hadn't taken me too far from his spot, and I'd only parked a few blocks away. This night would've been a different type of blow up.
Late at night, early in the morning in Manhattan, I could blend right in. Unfortunately, or maybe lucky for me, my plans were a bust. I only needed to figure out where Greyson was taken and make sure Brendan couldn't keep us apart, no matter what the was driving his hatred.
My mind was so frazzled that I couldn’t think straight. Nothing like feeling lost in a big city. Yet I was out here. God knows, I was supposed to be home preparing for exams. Forget about the fact that I was far from an idiot. Screw the way I’d always been able to knock out my classes without having to study. My life became disjointed the day Quinn disappeared. I don’t even know if I could ever fully get back on track.