by Mia Knight
“Yes.” It was almost over.
“Here.”
He held up a man’s jacket with a zip up the front. Lyla stepped out of the car and nearly crumpled. She grit her teeth as she forced her quaking legs to support her. She couldn’t lose her head now, not when she was so close. Blade stared at the warehouse as she stripped off her stiff, filthy sweater and slipped into the jacket. Her shredded leggings showed scrapes and dried blood from her run in the desert. Lyla zipped the jacket and wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.
The echo of gunfire reached her. She started towards the sound, but Blade caught her arm, pulling her to a halt.
“They’re clearing the way,” Blade said and tapped his earpiece.
“I need to—”
“Lyla, we could be outnumbered ten to one. Just wait. You’re not invincible. You’re no help to your mom if you’re dead.”
She grabbed her gun and stuffed two magazines into her pocket. Her mind was a spinning whirlpool of fragmented thoughts and images. The sounds of the battle taking place in the warehouse beckoned to her. Violence and death—they were becoming her constant companions. An image of her father’s body flashed through her mind. She closed her eyes and waited for the stabbing pain in her chest to recede.
“I guess target practice came in handy.”
She opened her eyes to find Blade watching her.
“You did good,” he said.
The price of admission into the underworld was blood and she had spilled more than her fair share. No matter what she did, the underworld kept dragging her back.
“Look at me.”
She focused on Blade who looked disgustingly capable. His hand rested on the butt of his gun and his clothes, while soiled, weren’t ripped and covered in blood as hers was. His eyes, while bloodshot, were alert and clear.
“Carmen told me everything. You did what you had to,” he said.
She couldn’t take a full breath. She felt as if there were glass shards in her chest.
“You were everything I could have hoped,” Blade continued as she tried to hold herself together. “You were cool under pressure and executed with the precision of a professional. You didn’t let emotions get in the way. You did good, Lyla.”
She dug her fingernails into her palms.
“It’s either you or them. I’m damn glad it was them.” He stepped close and cupped her chin in his hand. “You hear me? You did the right thing.”
“I did the right thing by killing my father?”
“It’s either that or have Nora and Carmen dead before sunrise.”
Her throat swelled. She dropped her face forward until it hit Blade’s chest. She tried desperately to contain the maelstrom inside of her. If she let loose, she wasn’t sure she could put herself back together again. Blade slid his hand into her tangled hair and said nothing. She grabbed a fistful of his jacket and clenched her teeth against the need to scream.
When Blade stiffened, she looked up and saw that he had one hand cupped over his earpiece. A muscle leapt in his jaw.
“Copy,” Blade said and looked down at her. “Let us take care of this.”
“Is she alive?”
Blade hesitated and her heart stopped.
“It isn’t pretty. She needs to go to the hospital. Let them bring her—”
Lyla ran towards the warehouse with her gun in hand. The door was being manned by one of Gavin’s men. He held up a hand as she approached, but after a glance behind her, he stepped aside.
Although the exterior of the warehouse looked like a rust bucket the interior was brand new. The warehouse towered three stories high. High windows let in light from every angle. On the first floor were three rooms with the doors wide open. She glimpsed drugs in one room and money in another, but her eyes were on the second floor where a group of men gathered in front of a set of rooms.
“Lyla, you don’t want to see this,” Blade said from behind her.
“She’s up there?”
“Lyla—”
She ran towards the iron staircase and ignored bodies littered over the steps. Nothing penetrated the urgency rushing through her. She needed to see her mother to make sure she was okay. When she reached the second landing, Barrett stepped forward, face grave.
“Mrs. Pyre, you don’t want to—” he began.
“Let me pass,” she snapped.
The men didn’t move, so she shoved her way through their ranks and stopped in the doorway. Lyla took one look into the room and felt her world disintegrate. She screamed, a sound filled with rage and despair. No. No. This had to be a nightmare.
“Lyla.”
Blade gripped her shoulder and tried to pull her backwards.
“No!” Lyla ripped free and passed three naked dead men to reach her mother who was bound by wrist and ankles to the four posts of a bed. The mattress was saturated with her mother’s blood. Her mother had been whipped and beaten so severely that the only feature she recognized were her mom’s platinum locks. Lyla’s shaking hands hovered a foot over her mother. No part of her had been left untouched. It looked as if her mother had been mauled by a wild animal. There were deep slashes across her face and abdomen. Her hanging skin glistened with cum and blood.
“Mom?” Her stomach lurched as she used the sleeve of the jacket to wipe slime and blood from her mother’s face. “Mom?” She tugged on the restraints. “Get these off her.”
No one moved.
“Get them off her!”
Four men rushed forward and quickly cut the restraints. One guard shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over her body.
“Mom? Can you hear me?” She placed one hand over her mother’s lips and one on her chest. Her chest moved a tiny fraction at the same time that Lyla felt a small puff of air on her palm.
“She’s alive!”
Blade picked her mother up as gently as possible. Her mother didn’t make a peep as Blade started towards the door, rapping out orders. Lyla turned to follow, but stopped when she tripped over one of the naked men sprawled on the floor. Her mother had been in this state and they—. She pulled out her gun and emptied the magazine into his body, which shuddered from the impact. She reloaded, walked to the next man and repeated the process until all three men were bullet filled piñatas. She wasn’t sure she had a heart anymore. She didn’t feel anything.
Lyla started towards the door, but a flash of red caught her eye. She looked up and saw a camera with a red light over the doorway. Lyla didn’t ask for permission. She snatched the gun from the nearest man’s belt. The guards backed up as she aimed at the camera and shattered it with one shot. She slapped the gun against the guard’s chest and walked out of the room. Gavin’s men gave way as she walked down the staircase like an automaton.
Blade had her mother in the back seat of the SUV. Lyla cradled her mother’s head on her lap and stroked her hair, which was caked with blood and other stuff she wouldn’t let herself examine.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lyla
Lyla stared down at her mother who lay in a hospital bed in the ICU. Her body was wrapped in bandages and a machine was helping her breathe.
Their entrance to the emergency room caused a sensation. Her mother was whisked away and Lyla had been forced to be treated as well. They cleaned the wounds on her legs, arms and face while asking questions about her mother and why she was covered in blood. Blade said something about a camping accident and she nodded since the doctor seemed to need some kind of confirmation from her. As for her mother, Blade concocted a story about hiring a private investigator that was looking into her disappearance and located her in this state. The doctors said the police would have to be contacted. This should have scared her, but she felt nothing. After her latest near death experience, being questioned by cops didn’t rouse a hint of anxiety.
The doctor’s litany of her mother’s injuries played over and over in her mind.
“
Your mother’s injuries are traumatic. She’s lost a lot of blood. She’s had several strokes due to someone choking her. She has multiple head fractures as well as a broken ankle, broken shoulder...”
The doctor continued, but she couldn’t hear over the white noise. Seeing her mother in the warehouse had been bad enough, but knowing the extent of the physical trauma made her entire being recoil.
“She’s in a coma,” the doctor said clinically. “It’s amazing she survived such a brutal attack. I hope the cops can find the monster who did this.”
Lyla dropped into a chair beside the hospital bed. She hesitated as she reached for her mother’s hand, which had chunks of flesh missing from it. Three of five fingers were in braces. The men hadn’t left anything untouched. Lyla kissed her mother’s palm, right over a deep gash.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded as dead as she felt.
Their history faded into nothingness. This woman was her mother, her flesh and blood. She couldn’t bear to look at her mother’s face because it was so gruesome. Her mother didn’t deserve this. The dam that kept her from losing her mind since the attack crumbled. Lyla rested her mother’s hand on the bed, buried her face against the sheets and sobbed her heart out.
There was no getting around it. This was her fault. Because of her connection to Gavin, her parents had been dragged into the underworld with her. She would have paid any price to save her mom from this.
The only sound in the room was the heart monitor, which increased her anxiety. Any moment now, she expected to hear the sound of her mother’s heart flat lining. How could her mother recover from this? She trembled with the need to retaliate, to lash out at someone. She felt as if she were balancing on the edge of a cliff. A gust of wind could tip her over into a black hole where she’d never emerge. Her mother’s life hung in the balance. She felt this way when Manny was murdered—helpless, horrified and enraged. A scream built in her throat. The doctor said they had to ‘work’ on her mother as if she was a car they had to put together.
“Lyla.”
She lifted her head as Gavin walked into the room. He looked as slick and untouched as always. In comparison, she felt as if she had been skinned alive—raw, dirty, violated and vicious. Lyla stood and backed away as he approached.
“Stay back,” she said hoarsely.
He didn’t stop.
“Don’t you dare come close to me. Look at her!” Lyla pointed at her mother. “Look at her!”
Gavin’s eyes flicked to her mother. His expression hardened and then came back to her.
“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she whispered.
Gavin reached for her. She knocked his hand away. That didn’t deter him.
“I don’t want you touching me!” She didn’t want anyone touching her, not when her soul felt so savaged and raw. “You said you would protect us! I told you not to go and you left—”
Gavin hauled her into his arms. She fought him as if he was Sadist. She completely lost it, scratching, biting, and screaming. Her breath whooshed out of her as Gavin pinned her to the floor. She was blinded by tears of grief and rage. She trusted him to take care of her and he betrayed her.
“I hate you!” she screamed. “I’ll never forgive you for this!”
Lyla was dimly aware of shouting medical staff and then Blade was there, shoving Gavin aside. Lyla lurched up and latched onto him. She was splintering into a million pieces. She couldn’t stop shaking and she needed to hold onto someone who had never let her down.
“Lyla.”
Blade smoothed her hair back before he rose with her in his arms. He moved swiftly. She buried her face against his chest, screwed her eyes shut and tried to hold onto her violent emotions.
“Drug me,” she whispered.
Blade’s step faltered. “What?”
“Sedate me.”
“You sure?”
“Do it. I-I can’t take anymore.”
“Lyla.”
She clutched him like a child who needed reassurance and comfort. She buried her face in his chest and screamed as the tears came. The horror of the past seven hours barreled into her, leaving her devastated.
She felt a pinch in her neck as Blade applied the needle. A blessed numbness spread over her shattered soul, swept away her sorrow and replaced it with nothingness.
***
When Lyla woke, she felt as if she had been run over by a truck. She was flat on her back in a soft bed and didn’t have the strength to move her limbs. Every inch of her body ached and her mind was a complete blank. There was no sense of time or space and she wasn’t concerned. Sleep threatened to pull her back under. She closed her eyes and bent her foot in a mini stretch. The stab of pain caught her off guard. She shifted her legs, which scratched against the fine sheets like sandpaper and then it all came flooding back.
Lyla shot up in bed and couldn’t stop her gut-wrenching scream. It didn’t take longer than ten seconds for a door to her left to burst open. Blade appeared in the doorway with his gun. She was home in the master suite she shared with Gavin. After the cabin in the middle of the desert and the grisly warehouse, the rich cream colors and luxurious setting seemed all wrong.
“Is it safe?” she asked.
“Yes. They attacked the front gate and tossed an explosive on property, but they didn’t penetrate when they realized there was another way out,” Blade said.
“How long have I been out?” She tried to throw back the duvet, but that feat seemed to be too much for her weary body.
“Six hours. You should sleep longer.”
“I need to see my mother.”
“There’s nothing you can do for her, Lyla,” Blade said.
Her heart stopped. “She’s—?”
“Your mother’s alive, but her state hasn’t improved.”
“I should be there.”
“We have men guarding her. They’ll let us know of any changes.”
Lyla opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when Carmen appeared with Nora on her hip. Carmen rushed forward, set Nora on Lyla’s lap and dropped her face into Lyla’s hair. Beau leapt up on the bed, nudged her with his wet nose and settled beside her with a huff.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” Carmen whispered, voice thick with tears. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
Nora smiled up at Lyla, unfazed by her near death experience. Even as Lyla’s trembling hand ran down Nora’s cheek, the baby nuzzled Lyla’s chest, clearly seeking a meal. Lyla physically recoiled.
“What is it?” Carmen asked, raising her head.
Lyla glanced at Blade who was already in the process of closing the door. She raised Nora away from her chest and kissed her on the cheek.
“Did Nora eat?”
“Yeah, I gave her cereal. Why?”
“She’s acting like she’s hungry.”
“She probably wants to bond with you. She’s been a little stressy. Besides, your boobs must be full.”
The moment Nora nuzzled her, her breasts filled with milk, but her heart was racing. Last night she turned a corner. Her father was the first of five men to die by her hand. Every shot pushed her closer to a precipice from where there would be no return. What she witnessed in the warehouse shoved her over the edge into a straight up killer with no conscience or morals. Even now, something dark and twisted inside of her demanded retribution.
Nora grinned at her, making her heart squeeze with a wild rush of emotions. She wanted to cuddle her daughter, but memories of what she’d done kept her from holding Nora too close. She didn’t want to infect her baby with... her. Having Nora breastfeed from her suddenly felt abhorrent. A normal person would be horrified that they killed their own parent, but she felt nothing. Was it because she was in shock or really felt nothing? Maybe she was morphing into a sociopath.
“Lyla? What’s going on?” Carmen asked.
She hugged Nora close. “Thank you for taking care of her when I was...” Going off the rails, killing people and sho
oting the dead bodies of her mother’s rapists. Her throat closed up. “Thank you.”
Carmen shot to her feet and smacked Lyla upside the head. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, bitch!”
Lyla blinked. “What?”
“You tell me to take Nora and run while you sacrifice yourself? Do you know what that did to me? I could hear gunshots going off and I thought—I thought—” Carmen paced and waved both hands in front of her face as tears poured down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what was happening. I was trying to keep Nora quiet and that guy found us.”
Carmen paused to savagely kick Beau’s doggy bed before she resumed her frantic pacing. Beau, Lyla and Nora watched avidly. Carmen planted her feet and did a Peter Pan pose.
“I shot him.” Carmen sounded half defiant, half proud of herself.
“I know,” Lyla said.
Carmen sniffed. “He was my first.”
“I know.”
Carmen let out a gut-wrenching scream and punched her fist in the air. A second later she bizarrely stomped the ground with one foot as if she were trying to put out a fire.
“I got him! That should teach him to mess with a woman with a baby! That motherfucker! He was calling me like a dog, ‘Here slutty, slutty.’” Carmen made a gun with her thumb and pointer finger. “I got him, Lyla. I did it.”
“You did good.”
Carmen took a deep, fortifying breath. Her bravado faded to reveal the vulnerability and terror she tried to conceal. She fell to her knees beside the bed.
“How did you do it?” she whispered.
“Do what?”
“How did you have the—” Carmen made fists with both hands and shook them in Lyla’s face, “cojones to tell us to run? To go back and face those men by yourself...” Carmen covered her face with both hands and moaned. “I can’t do that ever again. I can’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Lyla said.
Carmen grasped her hand and squeezed with her eyes shimmering with tears. “Aunty Beatrice?”
Lyla’s throat closed up. Carmen rose and wrapped her arms around Lyla. She took a deep, shuddering breath and the tears spilled over.