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Saved by a Sinner

Page 2

by A G Henderson


  Once the gun was on the other side of the threshold and far, far away from my hands, someone scooped it up. Then power flooded into the room. And this wasn’t the pretend stuff Dad played at either. Throwing his money around. Screaming at people.

  This was pure.

  Undiluted.

  Terrifying.

  Three men, clad in all black everything, quickly filed into the room and stood side by side. They made it feel incredibly tiny, their presence overwhelming despite the obvious youth on their faces. None of them could’ve been older than their late teens or early twenties, but they carried themselves like they owned everything they looked upon.

  On my left was the single biggest guy I’d ever seen in person. He stood at least a few inches taller than the other two, body unbelievably wide. Scar didn’t have anything on his size. I must’ve somehow missed him turning sideways to get through the door, because there was no way he would’ve fit otherwise. His dark eyes were cold, empty, and they swept the room without missing a thing.

  On the right was a movie star, fresh from his latest blockbuster. At least that’s what he looked like to me. His red hair was piled messily on top of his head and he wore a devil-may-care grin, seemingly unconcerned by everything they had already done. His eyes were gemstone green, the amusement on his face reflected within their depths.

  My attention shifted to the one in the middle, immediately noticing the snarl twisting his face and the way his gray eyes blazed with barely restrained violence. Reflexively, I took a step back. He watched my movement closely, looking at me the same way a wolf would its next meal. I was glad Isaac and Manuel were being silent behind me. They would crumble beneath his attention and we weren’t out of the woods yet.

  “What are you three doin’ in here?” The giant asked, folding huge arms over his chest.

  “Hiding.” I offered no more, no less.

  “I think we got that part,” said Hollywood. “Tell those two behind the desk to come out.”

  I motioned for them to do what he said, and soon enough, my brothers were standing at either side of my back.

  The angry one stepped forward, taking us in with one, chilling look. I could almost feel my brothers wilting and I wasn’t faring much better.

  Run, my mind screamed. Except there was nowhere to go.

  His eyes finally locked on mine. “Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t even fucking breathe.” He stepped to the side and there was suddenly a girl standing in the spot he had just occupied.

  She was maybe a few years older than me, wearing boots, jeans, and a dark hoodie, hands stuffed in the oversized pocket.

  I didn’t know who she was, but she immediately took my breath away. There was suddenly a vice on my chest, squeezing my ribs and my heart along with it.

  Long, platinum blonde hair spilled out from beneath the baseball hat, framing a sculpted face. An urge hit me to brush those stray strands out of the way for a full view of it. Luckily, my sense of self preservation was stronger than whatever was coming to life inside of me. Because when her head lifted and I caught sight of silver eyes like nothing I had ever seen, my heart got ripped out and stepped on.

  Hate.

  There was nothing else there.

  Nothing at all.

  At least I was worth hunting to the angry asshole throwing off wave after wave of aggression. No matter how bad I wanted to reach out and confirm this girl was real, I was very much aware of what information my brain was supplying.

  Touch her and she’ll crush you under her foot like an ant.

  She walked a short path between my brothers and I, stopping to stare unblinkingly at each of us over several intervals. While she did that, I let my mind wander. I tried and failed to comprehend what could instill that kind of mindless loathing against someone she didn't even know. The only thing I came up with was someone had hurt her, bad. That knowledge didn't sit right with me, but I didn't know what I was going to do with it either.

  “Well?” Hollywood prompted when she completed her circuit, standing in front of me again.

  Her gaze dissected me while my heart thudded. When her head tilted, hair shimmering in the light, I remembered the flash of silver I saw earlier. My gut clenched. I clenched my fists until it hurt, trying to fight the welling panic.

  She was there.

  She saw Dad and I together.

  She killed Scar.

  She’ll give me away. Then it’s all over.

  I took a desperate step forward, begging her with my eyes. If she said anything, we were as good as dead. The men behind her didn’t seem to be the hostage taking type.

  She stopped my advance in its tracks. A sharp blade appeared at my neck, pressing in. With a flick of her wrist, she could cut me open. The three men went noticeably tense and the sweat under my arms slid down my sides. Biting my tongue for clarity, I mouthed one word.

  “Please.”

  Her eyes flashed. For a fraction of a second, there and gone again, something besides hate occupied those unsettling orbs. This was worse.

  Pain. Torment. So much my bones ached with it. She blinked and the spell was broken, leaving me reeling with the need to spare her from those horrors.

  The girl shook her head and turned her back on us, stomping out into the hall without a word. She didn't go far. I could see the sole of her boots where she leaned against splintered door frame, and I found it oddly comforting to have her remain close by.

  Hollywood nodded. “Looks like you three weren’t involved. Consider yourselves lucky.”

  Involved in what?

  “Names,” the monster barked. I forgot myself for a moment, scowling at him. He bared his teeth and I schooled my expression.

  “Luna,” I lied again, this one coming easily. “These are my brothers-”

  “Quiet,” he snapped. “Let them speak.”

  “Diego, sir,” said Isaac.

  “Alejandro,” said Manuel.

  I almost ruined it with my sigh of relief.

  “Hmmm.” He didn’t look convinced. God, what was it going to take?

  The big one pulled a phone from his pocket, making the device look tiny as he read the screen. “Creed. We’ve got him pinned down,” he said, standing at attention.

  “Go, both of you.” said Creed, watching me. What was he, a damn gargoyle? Hollywood and Giant left without protest. The girl’s feet moved out of my line of sight but she was there. I could feel it. “Round up what you need and get the hell out of here within the next half hour. I imagine the three of you can find the exit if you put your heads together.”

  An hour ago, I would've complained. He couldn't kick us out of our own house. Now, I was grateful for the chance to walk out alive. Although I was curious… “What happens in a half hour?”

  “I burn this fucking place down until there's nothing but ashes.” He didn’t rub his hands together after his declaration like the villains in movies. It was a statement of fact. I believed he would do what he said he would, one hundred percent. And he wouldn’t wait to make sure we were at a safe distance. “Don’t get in my way again.”

  With that parting shot, he stepped back over the debris in the doorway and marched from the room.

  “Sly. On me.”

  The girl - Sly? - fell into step behind him and I watched her retreating back, silently hoping for her to turn around. Another glimpse of her was worth more than anything. It wasn’t right, that she was suffering. I wanted to do something about it. Needed it like I needed the oxygen in my lungs. Except I knew I wasn’t in a position to do anything for her.

  Not yet.

  But what was one more promise to myself when I’d already made so many today?

  “I’ll save you,” I whispered, feeling the oath settle deep in my soul. My brothers came to stand in front of me, giving me odd looks. I didn’t care. I reached out and curled my fingers in the space she had occupied, as if I could hold her by proxy. “Someday. Somehow. I swear it.”

  CHAPTER 2 - Carlos

>   Present

  “You’re doing that thing again,” said Manny

  I dropped my palm from the cool glass of the limo, straightening my charcoal suit jacket more out of frustration than anything. There was no doubt it was immaculate.

  Tie straighter than a board. Shirt free of wrinkles. Shoes polished until they looked like fucking mirrors. Even the shadow of my beard was perfectly even.

  If dear old dad had drilled one thing worth knowing into me, it was this: appearances mattered.

  “Eat shit,” I told my brother simply.

  He was sitting in the seat across from me, a taunting grin on his face. His jean clad legs were folded at the ankle, light brown hair in its usual state of disarray. It was a miracle I managed to get him into a white button up for this meeting.

  But of course he had the sleeves rolled up, exposing impressively muscled forearms. Whoever said younger brothers tended to follow in the older’s footsteps needed to use a larger sample size next time.

  “You don’t have to be so hostile,” Isaac added helpfully, pushing his glasses up the slope of his nose. “It was a simple observation.”

  We shared the same pathetic excuse for a dad, but I had a different mother than the two of them. While there were several facial traits we had in common, including the amber eyes of the late Santino, it stopped there.

  Manny was a freak of nature, easily big enough to have a career as a luchador. Isaac was closer to my own build when it came to height, if somewhat slimmer and less threatening.

  The sweaters and slacks he favored when winter arrived didn’t help his case. They made him look like he should be teaching a history class somewhere instead of helping to control the largest faction of organized crime in the city. I also wasn’t aware of many teachers who carried handguns.

  So what did I know?

  I ignored them and went back to staring out at the night as the car continued towards its destination.

  The sky was brighter than it should’ve been, considering it was close to midnight. But at some point in the last several hours, clouds had rolled into Charlotte and decided to stick around, promising a storm with their occasional rumble of thunder. The towering skyscrapers spearing up into the heavens around us blazed with enough colors to paint the thick gray in a rainbow, and those colors reflected back down onto the mirrored buildings and the streets below.

  “Come on. We’re right around the corner from the hospital and we have time,” Manny continued. He was never one to let something go easily. He was also allergic to thinking things through before they left his mouth. “It wouldn’t take long for us to drop by and let you do your thing.”

  “And what...thing, would that be exactly?” I was trying to hold off on unleashing the scathing criticisms waiting on my tongue.

  “You know what thing, esè.” He grinned easily, eyebrows wagging. “Claiming your woman. Ain’t no meeting more important than that.”

  Emotion trickled in through the dam built years ago, and I clenched my fists beside me as I shored up the cracks. I noted with some frustration my patch job kept leaking. I felt the results in the way my heart squeezed tight in my chest.

  Sloppy, I chided myself.

  If I didn’t want either of them to bring up the elephant in the room - or car, as the case may be - I should’ve known better than to let myself get distracted and start thinking of her.

  Isaac cleared his throat. “Is it your turn to bring up the holes in his logic or mine? I’ve lost track.”

  “I’ll take this one,” I said.

  The car turned and I sat up, retrieving a piece of cinnamon gum from my coat pocket and popping it into my mouth. It was a bad habit I saved for special occasions, providing enough of a distraction to keep me from losing my temper when dealing with Manny, especially, or any number of other irritating motherfuckers.

  No disrespect to my brother, of course.

  He was an annoying, single minded asshole, but he was my annoying, single minded asshole.

  “So, let me get this straight.” I folded my hands, meeting his expectant gaze. “You want to just...ride over there and waltz in so I can sweep my girl off her feet and take her with me.”

  My girl. I liked the sound of that, but she was more. So much more.

  She was everything.

  My woman.

  My future queen.

  Mi diosa.

  My goddess.

  Manny tapped his knee, nodding to himself. “Yeah. That sounds about right to me.”

  Isaac echoed my deep sigh.

  “Sure you’re not overlooking something?” If I threw him a brighter lifeline, he would go blind.

  He blinked, glancing between us both. “I guess we would have to deal with the Seven Sinners.”

  Thank you, Lord. He does have some brain cells remaining.

  I popped my gum between my teeth, staring at him hard.

  His eyes narrowed, flashing with irritation. “Don’t give me that look.”

  I held my hands up innocently. “What look?”

  “The look that says, ‘you’re a fucking idiot, Manuel.’”

  “If you weren’t being a fucking idiot. I wouldn’t be giving you the look that says, you’re a fucking idiot.”

  Isaac whistled, cutting into the budding tension. “Let’s stay on topic, shall we?”

  Manny looked away, grumbling something under his breath.

  I cupped a hand behind my ear. “What was that?”

  He looked back at me. His lips were a thin line. “Half of them went back to Oakdale the night before. I’m not saying we have to engage, but we could make a call or two, even the odds. It'd probably be enough to get you face to face with her.”

  “I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re hinting around a confrontation inside a fucking hospital where my woman is!” A dull throb started at the back of my head, blood pressure rising. “Since you know so much now, you know who’s still here right?” I barreled on without waiting for an answer. “Because if you do, and you’re suggesting this while having that information, then I’m going to be very concerned the muscle you keep putting on has replaced what was left of your brain. There’s no other way for you to have forgotten who you’re talking about messing with.”

  “Listen to Carlos,” said Isaac. “Don’t forget what we saw.”

  Silence permeated the air, and I knew our thoughts had turned inwards, remembering what we witnessed more than a decade past.

  We’d been forced to watch from the nearby woods as the only home we ever knew burned, clogging the sky with thick, black smoke that stuck to our lungs even from a distance. The backpacks we carried were heavy, stuffed to bursting with the last traces of our lives. As terrifying as watching the fire climb over every surface was, it had nothing on the three figures standing side by side in the driveway, swathed in shadows from the bright flames.

  His darker hair giving him away, we watched Creed bend down and start grabbing the duffel bags scattered around him. He shook each one, roughly emptying their contents to the ground. I would never forget the way my eyes squinted, trying to make out the shapes. I would never forget the retching noises Isaac and Manuel made when we realized the monstrous biker was dumping dozens of severed heads at his feet like macabre trophies.

  My brothers and I didn’t move or speak as the Sinners went about their gruesome work. By the time the last head was mounted on the wrought iron fence surrounding the once sprawling mansion, we were pale and shaking, barely breathing. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, when I returned the next day for a closer look, Santino’s head hadn’t been one of the ones left out there.

  I shook myself, pulling away from the memory before it went further. There were no easy days from then on. Only hard days and the days I crawled towards the end of that made me look forward to the hard days. But we had scratched, bitten and clawed our way to the top and I was close to fully claiming this city for my own.

  “Now isn’t the time to get into a pissing match with Cr
eed,” I said finally. “We’ve been lucky enough to slip beneath his radar for this long.”

  The Seven Sinners had grown at a rate defying belief over the course of the last decade. The chapters they spawned were spread across the state and beyond. Their reach was sobering on its own. Combined with the not so small fact they wouldn’t hesitate to totally annihilate anyone who stepped out of line?

  Antagonizing them meant digging your own grave, and I didn't have a death wish.

  “Let's not forget,'' said Isaac. “Once he identifies us, there's no way to put that secret back in a box. We've got enough irons in enough fires as it is. Having them breathing down our neck is a complication we don't need.”

  Keeping our involvement with the Cartel under wraps had been difficult, to say the least. There were rumors. Some of them I'd sown the seeds of myself. Giving truth to those rumors at this stage in the game would only lead to trouble. If I could move my pieces into place before the Sinners started sniffing around, everything would be set.

  My plans were already so close to bearing fruit I could taste the juicy satisfaction. And once I met my win condition, I would be able to fulfill the promise I made to a girl with silver hair and tortured eyes. Well, a woman now. A woman who wouldn't take kindly to me inserting myself into her life.

  Not the time. Focus on the here and now.

  “You're both right,” said Manny, holding his mouth like he was chewing on nails. “This whole thing has been a waiting game and my patience is slipping. I want this done.”

  Isaac clapped him on the shoulder. “As do I. But now more than ever, we have to watch our steps. Navigating a tightrope with no safety net is only noteworthy if you make it to the other side.”

  We lingered in contemplative silence until the car finally slowed to a stop outside of a nightclub with music pounding so loud it throbbed against the glass of the limo.

  I adjusted my tie, stuffing the distractions swimming through my mind back into a dark box. Old memories and emotions would get me killed. I had too much to do to be buried six feet under.

 

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