He came out my brother, and I’d do anything for him. I didn’t hesitate when those fuckers came for me.
I saw them outside my window approaching Alex’s house. Fuckers.
Grabbing the meat tenderizer I’d been using to soften up a slab of steak, I open the front door to be pushed back by a herd of men coming through. A shot rings out and a burning, shooting pain slices through my thigh. Motherfucker shot me! I grin at him as I crack him on the forehead with the tenderizer in my hand. It leaves a nice pattern in blood on his face. I grab the gun, shove it under his chin and pull the trigger. It all happens so fast that they’re still in the process of coming through the door, and I have them bottlenecked in the passage way. Brain matter sprays up the wall from my close range shot at the prick who shot me. His body falls, tripping the next idiot over. I stamp my foot down on his head while I grab and hit the fucker pointing his gun at me across the wrist with the meat tenderizer. His gun flies from his hand and he shouts from the pain as he tries to fight his way in, but comes up against my head connecting with his nose.
I bring my foot down a couple more times on the head of the guy that fell over, and relish in my boot penetrating past the skull. I bend down and grab the gun from his limp hand. Raising it, I shoot two rounds into the head of the guy who was too busy holding his face together to notice the gun.
The last guy manages to get a couple of rounds off, shooting me in the shoulder and hip. I fall to the ground but fire back a few rounds, which sends him running. The fire burns in my veins, the blood and bodies around me fueling the animal inside. I force myself up and give chase, the adrenaline pumping through me like a hit of the perfect drug. I can’t feel the holes littering my body right now, all I can feel is the fucking rage of letting this bastard do any damage. I jump him from behind, sending him face first into the grass, his gun going a good eight feet away from him. I straddle him and he bucks underneath me like a wild boar. I help him turn around so I can straddle his chest, and lay a couple of punches to his face.
“He won’t let you walk away from this!” he bellows at me.
I grin down at him. “And I won’t let you.” I push my thumbs into his eye sockets until the pop harmonizes with his screams. I push in deeper until he stops squirming beneath me.
Getting back to my feet, I wipe the flesh from my fingers down my tee and notice Alex’s door is wide open. Those fuckers were sent to kill or distract me, and the latter worked. I rush over and enter the house to find the remnants of a struggle. My head rushes a little and a woozy feeling overcomes me. I rush down to the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. I pull open the cabinet and loads of shit falls out, including Alex’s pain medication. I pop the lid and swallow a mouthful. I tear a strip from the bloodied shirt I have on and tie it around my thigh to stem the bleeding. My shoulder and hip will need something else. I check the wound and see that they’re both through and through. This isn’t my first rodeo. A lot of people get shot when they’re part of a gang, and initiation into some requires you to take a bullet. Yeah, I didn’t say I’m sane.
I make my way to the oven and light one of the burners. I pull at the drawers until I find the one with cutlery inside and grab a spoon, placing it on the fire. Unbuckling my belt and lowering my jeans, I pinch the wound on my hip to make it smaller and then use the burning spoon to seal the wound. It hurts like a motherfucker and I bite into my lip, drawing blood, but it needs to be closed or I’ll lose too much blood. I repeat with the wound on my shoulder and thigh, and nearly lose it when I hear someone behind me. I grab a knife and turn quickly to find DJ standing a few feet away, staring around the kitchen. When his eyes land on me and the blood coating every fucking inch of me, his eyes widen and his bare feet shuffle backwards.
Dropping the knife, I lift my hands in surrender. “Hey, bud,” I say in the least menacing tone I can muster. “Do you remember me?” I ask, feeling like a jackass. He has seen me a few times this week with his Dad.
“Where’s my Mom?”
“I don’t know, bud, but I’m going to find her, okay?”
“Is that your blood?” he asks, pointing to my apparel.
I don’t know how Dalton would handle this but he looks old enough to not be lied to so I go with the truth. “Some of it is, some of it isn’t.”
“Is it my Mom’s?” His face crumbles and I’m lost. I don’t know how to handle him.
“No. I would never hurt your Mom or you. Okay?”
He nods.
“We need to get out of here now, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sirens blare in the distance but I can’t be sure that it’ll be to help. I need to get Dalton’s kid safe, and the only place I can think of is at the hotel with his grandma. Dalton had told me that the mother was still lurking around despite Alex telling her to leave, and at the moment, she’s the only person DJ has that he knows and trusts, so she’s going to have to do. I rummage in my jeans for my car keys and throw them to the kid. “You know how to drive, right?”
He looks down at the keys and then back up to me. “I’m nine.”
I stare at him for a second. “So no?”
He hands me back the keys and grabs his coat.
The reception lady at the front desk of the hotel is freaking out at my appearance and threatening to call the police. I don’t want to cause a scene or hurt her, I don’t like hurting women, but I don’t have time for this shit.
“Call up for….” I look at the kid. “What’s your nana’s name, kid?”
“Grandma.” He shrugs like it’s obvious.
“DJ?” a shrill voice calls out, and an older woman comes rushing over and grabs the kid away from my side. She stares at me wide-eyed and her arm flays at the receptionist. “Call the police,” she demands.
“Fucking charming, bitch. I brought him to you.”
“Where’s his mother?” she demands, but I don’t have answers for her so I leave before the law turns up and carts me away.
I’m limping now from the hip and leg wound and it won’t be long before it renders me useless. I need to find her as soon as possible.
My head is thundering; there’s a tropical storm causing chaos inside my skull. My eyes flicker open and I try to pull my hands to cover my eyes from the intrusive light burning into them but I can’t move them. I’m bound. Terror courses through me. I’m cold and a light breeze blows over my skin. I’m spread-eagled on a pool table, naked. A cry rips from my gut. Those bastards. I’m fully exposed and completely vulnerable in the worst way possible. There are three of them; Tim, Keith and another guy, standing around, looking at me. I hear a commotion in the corner and squint past the tears to see Jonah tied to a chair. He’s hurt bad and I know this is it; this is the revenge they so badly wanted.
“Glad you could join us. I thought we were going to have to have all the fun with a corpse,” Tim teases, leaning down and sniffing at my hair.
“Fuck you.” I gather the phlegm in my mouth and spit at him. He rewards me with a backhanded slap that sets a blaze across my cheek.
“Leave her alone, you motherfucker!” Jonah growls, wriggling in his chair. The gun shot rings out into the room, making me scream. Jonah calls out in agony. Keith shot him in the knee cap. He then walks over to me and places the point of the gun to my breast; it scalds, burning the sensitive flesh. I cry out and want to vomit at the smile on his face.
“Women. You were my brother’s weakness too. Like father, like son.”
“She has nothing to do with this,” Jonah pants out with a broken breath.
“Collateral damage. She will be an example for others. You see, we’re taking back our business and we want everyone to know what happens when you fuck with us.”
“She’s practically a Moore. Isn’t there a family code or something?” Jonah laughs in an attempt to stall them from whatever they have planned for us.
“We’ve decided to weed out the rotten apples.”
“Starting with Dalton,” Tim chimes in. “That little fuck thought he could come out of prison and take over everything we built. He’s fucking weak and pussy whipped, just like his Dad.”
“His Dad won’t let this happen,” I say, trying to make sense of it all and what they are actually planning.
“He won’t be around much longer, either.”
Tim leans between my thighs and hits a ball with a pool cue. It hits me right between my legs and the pain and humiliation makes me sob.
“You know, they say a woman only feels four inches in.” The cold tip of the cue parts my folds and I struggle and tell him to stop as Jonah goes wild in his chair. “Should we test that theory?” He pushes the cue inside me roughly. He goes too deep and the pain is excruciating. He pulls the cue back out and makes a face. “Oops. I guess I went too deep.” He shows me the blood on the cue and then walks over to Jonah, wiping the cue across his cheek. “I’m going to fuck her to death and keep you around just long enough to watch the light leave her eyes.”
Jonah struggles with the binds and then begins to cry and tell me he’s sorry. Tim walks back over to me while Keith grabs Jonah’s face and forces him to watch.