CONVICT: A Dark Romance (Sin City Salvation Book 2)

by A. Zavarelli

  “TELL ME!” BRENTWOOD ROARED, SHOVING my head into the bucket of water. His voice was distorted, and I couldn’t make out the rest of what he was saying as I tried to hold my breath and fight the rising panic in my chest.

  He’d been going at this for the past twenty minutes. I was fucking exhausted, delirious, and I couldn’t string together a coherent thought. Whatever he’d given me had knocked me on my ass. I had no energy to fight him. I could barely keep my eyes open. And every time I shut them, Trouble’s death played on repeat in my mind like a horror movie.

  I was still trying to convince myself it was a dream, but I knew it wasn’t. The blood was still on his shoes, and the truth was written in his eyes. He was a fucking lunatic, and there was no doubt in my mind he was the same man who attacked me outside of the Rio.

  He pulled my limp body from the water, and I slumped against the unfinished floor, gasping for breath. I didn’t know how much longer this would go on for. I just wanted it to end. I just wanted Huck.

  When I closed my eyes, I saw his face. All I wanted to do was save him, but I’d walked right into a trap, and now we were both fucked. I would probably die in this old warehouse, and he would go to prison for something he didn’t do. Hopelessness sank into my chest like a lead weight, threatening to drown me.

  “Answer me!” Brentwood kneeled over my body and squeezed my throat until my eyes bulged. “You fucked him, didn’t you?”

  It was the same question he’d asked me several times already, but he’d never given me the opportunity to answer. Regardless of his persistence, it was obvious he didn’t really want to know. In some warped fantasy in his mind, Brentwood believed he had a claim to me. And I’d finally figured out why.

  “I know who you are,” I sputtered between breaths as I rolled over onto my back and stared up at him.

  His eyes smoldered, and a flicker of hope ignited in his expression as he leaned down and pinched my face in his fingers. “Who am I, Birdie?”

  “You’re the sick motherfucker who came to my room three nights a week and promised to save me while you fed your twisted perversion.”

  His grip on my face tightened as his nostrils flared. “I was going to save you, but you ran away. After everything I did for you, you just left.”

  “Everything you did for me?” I stared at him in disbelief. “You sicken me. I never wanted to look at you or smell you again.”

  “You don’t mean that.” He shook his head, completely lost to his delusion. “You waited for me. You never slept with anyone else.”

  “Didn’t I?” I smiled at him through bloody teeth. “I washed you off me and never looked back. And to answer your question, I did fuck Ace. I fucked him every chance I got. He’s in me now. He’s a part of me like you’ll never be—”

  He fisted a handful of my hair and slammed my head down into the floor so hard it felt like he’d shattered my entire skull. My face was still vibrating when he left me lying there in a heap, regretting my decision to lash out at him.

  “I’m going to make your life a living hell,” he snarled. “You filthy fucking whore. You want to fuck around on me? I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

  His phone rang, interrupting his rant, and he answered with a snarl. The conversation was one-sided, but I gathered he was needed elsewhere, which could either be really good or really bad for me. His eyes pierced through me as he seemed to debate his response, and then he answered. “Yeah, I’ll be there in thirty.”

  Before he even hung up, he was unzipping his pants. The audible click of the line going dead sealed my fate as he approached me, his limp dick falling out of his briefs when he tugged them down and grabbed a handful of my hair.

  “Suck.”

  “I would rather die,” I spat.

  He removed his revolver, pressing it beneath my jaw. “That could be arranged.”

  “Then fucking do it!” I screamed. “I’ll never take you willingly.”

  The disgusting fuck pistol-whipped me and fisted himself, trying to beat off as he watched me writhe in pain. But it wasn’t working. He couldn’t get hard.

  “I can’t even look at you,” he sneered.

  “Yeah because I’m all grown up now,” I heaved the words from my bloody lips.

  He knelt beside me again and brought the gun back to my throat, dragging it up to my jaw.

  “You weren’t supposed to grow up. You’ve ruined everything.” I closed my eyes as he forced one of my hands onto the gun and manipulated my finger against the trigger. “You’ll be so much prettier with your brains splattered all over the concrete.”

  My breaths came hard and fast, but I refused to beg. That was what he wanted, what he needed, but I wouldn’t validate his power. Until my dying breath, I would only think of the man I loved. With Huck in my heart and my mind, nobody else could ever hurt me. Nobody else could ever touch what we had. Even in death, he would own me.

  Brentwood breathed into my face; his words laced with venom. “Are you thinking of him right now?”

  I nodded, and he dug the barrel deeper into my skin. “Hope he was worth it.”

  He forced the trigger in my hand, and my lips parted in a silent scream as I waited for the pain. But the gun had simply dry fired. And when I opened my eyes, he was there, laughing in my face.

  “See how much fun we can still have?”

  He was toying with me. Playing Russian Roulette. One of these shots would eventually kill me, but how long until that happened? I tried to fight him. Mentally, I tried to pull away. But my body was sluggish and uncooperative. The gun fired a second time, and a cocktail of rage and panic exploded in my chest.

  I was still fighting for air when suddenly, another voice broke through the haze.

  “Let her go, Brentwood.”

  My eyes lanced through the darkness, but all I could make out in the shadows was a figure of another man. Brentwood was quick on his feet, but it was obvious he was caught off balance.

  “Taylor?” he barked. “What the fuck are you doing here? This isn’t even your jurisdiction.”

  I recognized that name, and when he stepped out from the shadows, a well of hope sprang up inside me. This was the detective from Nevada. The same detective who’d investigated the fire at Lucian’s house last year. And right now, he had his weapon aimed directly at Brentwood.

  “Step away from her, and drop your weapon,” Taylor demanded.

  Brentwood choked on his own caustic laughter. “Have you been following me?”

  “Something about your interest in this girl just never quite sat right with me,” Taylor answered. “A few phone calls to your department was enough to confirm you weren’t working on any active cases involving the Blue sisters. Care to explain why you asked me to follow up on it?”

  Brentwood smiled, and it was downright terrifying how empty his face was at that moment. “Why? Simple. You were the fucking idiot who played right into my hands. I never even had to show my face. You did all the work for me.”

  Taylor shifted, tension bleeding into his features. “Drop the fucking weapon and surrender peacefully.”

  “Surrender?” Brentwood mocked. “To you?”

  Before Taylor could even reply, Brentwood had me propped up in front of him, using my body as a shield.

  “Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on?” I screeched.

  Taylor’s eyes darted in my direction, his expression wary. “Brentwood is obsessed with you, in case you haven’t figured that out. He inserted himself into the investigation last year, claiming he was working on a related case to bring you in.”

  “And now I have,” Brentwood answered darkly as he aimed his weapon at Taylor. “Is she worth dying for?”

  “Please just go,” I pleaded with Taylor. I didn’t want to see anyone else hurt because of me.

  Taylor hesitated, clearly vulnerable, but unwilling to leave me. Then slowly, he pulled out his phone and punched in a few numbers. Behind me, I felt Brentwood’s tension as Taylor began to sp
eak, requesting backup and the location.

  “I need officer assistance ASAP,” he demanded. “I have Detective Eric Brentwood, currently in my—”

  The words ended abruptly as an explosive sound ricocheted off the walls and pierced my ears. Brentwood stumbled back, dragging me with him as Taylor crumpled onto the ground. They’d shot each other at the same time.

  In shock and unable to move, all I could do was scream as my gaze landed on Taylor. He was bleeding out, and behind me, Brentwood was struggling to apply pressure to his bicep. With a strength that seemed to come from nowhere, I managed to pull away from his grasp and begin crawling across the floor.

  “They’ll come for you,” Taylor sputtered on his own blood when I reached him. “But be careful who you trust.”

  Long after his eyes grew dim, and he stopped moving, I was still trying to save him. Covered in his blood, I collapsed beside him, finally accepting the painful consequences of reality. He was gone. Trouble was gone. And somehow, all this collateral damage felt like my fault.

  I was dazed and disoriented when the onslaught of uniformed officers arrived. Before I could even catch up, Brentwood was spinning his web of lies. Vaguely, I could hear him telling the officers how he’d discovered me running down the street, away from the crime scene, gun in hand.

  The first responding officer looked over at me, shaking his head. “Let’s take her in.”

  “Let me do the honors.” Brentwood gripped my arm in silent warning as he walked me outside, threatening me with the words he didn’t need to say. If I spoke up, there was no telling what he might do. He’d already proved he wasn’t above killing someone to get his way. But regardless, he made sure I knew it when he stuffed me into the back of a squad car and leaned down into my face.

  “This is far from over,” he informed me. “You even think about talking, your beloved biker prick will be next. Do you understand?”

  I stared out the window with a blank expression, and all I could do was nod. I did understand. Brentwood wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. My life was officially over.

  LUCIAN OPENED THE DOOR OF the truck and hoisted himself inside while I stared at the jail where Birdie was currently housed.

  “How is she?”

  It was the same question I always had for him, but the answer never changed. I’d stopped asking weeks ago why she wouldn’t see me. Every time we came here, I felt like I couldn’t fucking breathe. The thought of her locked up in a cage was too much. I needed to do something, but my head was too fucked up to figure out what that was.

  Two months she’d been gone. The last memory I had was her begging for me to stay. And now, I wished that I had. More than anything, I wished that I’d just fucking stayed with her.

  “She’s healed,” Lucian offered. “Her face looks better.”

  His words didn’t give me solace, but I knew now that nothing could. Life post-Birdie was worse than any hell I’d ever been through. I was empty without her. She was my light, and now darkness filled all my days.

  I still couldn’t wrap my head around what happened. One minute, she was there, and the next, she was sitting in a jail cell with a laundry list of murder charges and a battered face. Something had obviously happened to her, but whatever it was, she wasn’t talking about it. Not to me. Not to anyone. Trouble was dead, and there were no answers, but every second that passed without her felt like my life was slipping away.

  “Did she say anything at all?” I asked.

  Lucian shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. The only silver lining I can see is that she’s waived the preliminary hearing and her lawyer asked for a continuance on the trial date. That buys us time, but as it stands, it looks like Birdie has no intention of putting up a fight.”

  I couldn’t accept that. “Something happened, Lucian. She has to be protecting someone. That’s the only explanation.”

  “Maybe,” he sighed. “But unless she opens up, there’s nothing else I can do for her.”

  “Tell Gypsy to come back,” I demanded. “She needs to try again.”

  “She’s refused her six times.” He glanced out the window and shook his head. “You have to understand this is hard on Gypsy too. She feels responsible, and Birdie’s rejection isn’t helping matters…”

  “I don’t care. We all better get used to being fucking uncomfortable. This is her life on the line. Tell me you wouldn’t do the same if it was Gypsy. Tell me you’d give up on her.”

  He turned over the phone in his hands, considering my request. “I’ll ask her to come back and try again. But I can’t promise anything.”

  For a second, it felt like there was room to breathe again. I couldn’t let a day go by when we didn’t try something. Anything. This was the only way that made sense. Every person in Birdie’s life had given up on her at some point, but I wouldn’t. I needed her to know that.

  “Tomorrow,” I repeated. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “CAN YOU TELL HER LUX West is here to see her today?”

  The woman behind the counter glanced at my son, a reluctant smile on her lips. “His name will be on the visitor registry, along with yours.”

  I conceded because it was the only option I had at this point. I didn’t know if it would make any difference. Birdie hated me right now, and I couldn’t blame her. I thought I was doing what was best for her, but in the end, nothing I’d done to protect her had made any difference.

  After processing, we sat until our names were called, and I held my breath as I waited for the guard to terminate the visit before it even began. It was the same guy who’d delivered the news to me several times already, and even though his face was marred by a permanent scowl, I could tell he felt a little sorry for me.

  “You can go on in.” He pointed at the row of booths. “She’s in number six.”

  My heart jumped, and I squeezed Lux in my arms as I shuffled in the direction he’d pointed. I was hesitant to accept it until I saw her, but sure enough, there was a halo of blond hair waiting for me on the other side of the glass.

  Tears threatened my vision as I sat down and held my hand up to the barrier. “Birdie.”

  She offered me a stiff nod before her eyes moved to Lux. Pain flashed in her blue irises as she held her hand up, and he reached toward her and cooed. We both picked up the phone, and before I could even speak, she asked to talk to him.

  Lux didn’t understand what was happening, but he was happy to listen to her voice through the line for a couple of minutes before he started to fuss. I held him in my lap and brought the phone to my ear, my attention moving over Birdie. She was pale, her eyes shadowed with dark circles, and I’d never seen her so lifeless.

  “How are you holding up?” I choked out.

  Birdie shrugged a dainty shoulder beneath her prison uniform, which was practically swallowing her whole. “It’s not the Ritz,” she offered dryly. “But I suppose I should get used to it.”

  I shook my head in refusal. “Birdie, no. We can help you if you let us. Please. Just tell me what happened.”

  Her face remained blank, an expression that often haunted me from our childhood. She’d acquired that same lifeless stare when I was shuttled into juvenile detention, and she was left to fend for herself. During that time, she’d been defiled, her innocence stolen, and this place of despondency was the only one she could escape to. After that, her emotions only broke free when something managed to slip through the cracks of her armor and ignite the rage bottled up inside her like lava.

  “You sent me away,” Birdie whispered. “This is where I deserve to be. Everyone is better off this way. You, Lux, Ace…”

  Her voice fractured on the last name, and I knew it was killing her inside. She just couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

  “We all miss you, B. Ace is going crazy without you. He can’t eat; he can’t sleep. He hasn’t left California since you’ve been here. Sometimes, he just sits outside in his truck for the entire day because it’s the only way he can be cl
ose to you.”

  Birdie trembled as she drew in a breath and tried to compose herself. It was the most heart-wrenching display of emotion I’d ever witnessed from her.

  “Tell him he can’t do that,” she bit out. “He needs to forget me. I don’t want him here.”

  I knew my sister well enough to see through her lies. “What aren’t you telling me, B?”

  “I saw you.” Her voice was so quiet, I almost wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “That night with the video at Ace’s house. I saw your face, Gypsy. You were ashamed of me. You were terrified.”

  Lux looked up at me with a wide-eyed expression when tears began to leak from my eyes. “No, Birdie. You have it all wrong.”

  “I don’t,” she argued. “I know you’re all thinking it. I can’t be controlled, and this is the best place for me.”

  “Goddammit,” I hissed. “Stop it. That isn’t true. What happened with Ricky was self-defense. If anything, I regret that I let you do it because it should have been me. I was the oldest. I was the one who failed you. If I had the chance to go back and end him myself, I would.”

  Birdie fell silent on the other end of the line, but there wasn’t time to let her slip into her thoughts. I needed something from her. Anything. Even if it was just an assurance she’d let me come back for another visit. But everything changed when she bowed her head, and tears began to spill down her cheeks. My sister wasn’t one to cry. I knew something was terribly wrong when she clutched at her stomach and released a mournful sob. That was when I saw it. The tiny bump that had taken shape there. She was pregnant.

  My entire world shifted at that moment, and a pain unlike any other opened up inside my heart as I considered her future. Birdie seemed to understand my thoughts, and she steered the conversation to a place of such hopelessness and despair I couldn’t even consider it.

  “Promise me you’ll make sure Ace takes care of her,” she whispered. “Promise me she’ll always be safe from the horrors of this world.”

  “Birdie, no,” I cried. “You’re going to make sure of that yourself. We’ll figure something out. We’ll find a way—”