“Yes, actually,” I say. “Especially since you’ve yet to prove yourself otherwise by letting go of my girlfriend and getting the hell outta here.”
His top lip curls as he sneers my way, but as he studies me, his face begins to relax, right before a sinister, too-wide smile mars it again. “I’ll leave,” he starts, darting his eyes between Aras and I. “I’ll leave, I promise I will. But first,you…” He points his knife at me again, making sure to keep his hold on Cigs secure. “You are going to get down on your goddamn knees for me, and while you’re at it, you’re going tobegme to spare your little bitch.”
“Call her that again, and I’ll cut you open limb to fucking limb, you privileged motherfucker,” I warn, fisting my hands by my sides when the immediate urge to draw my switchblade takes over.
Fredrick, of course, is spurred by my words instead of feeling threatened by them. He grins, and is about to do exactly what I’ve asked himnotto, when Safiya takes half a step forward, making him stop before he can utter a single word.
“Behaveyourself, Fred, because I can very vividly see your inner cunt on display right now,” she hisses.
“I’m going to ask you to stay out of this, Safiya,” he tells her. “My respect for your family runs deep, and despite your recent acquaintance with this lot, I’m willing to keep you on the sidelines, but only because your sister is a woman of honor.”
Safiya looks sideways and spits on the ground, then lifts a brow at him. “I didn’t take you for a patriot,Fred. Showing sudden loyalty towards my sister won’t gain you a new alliance, I hope you know that.”
He laughs. “Naila is a leader. She understands the complications and necessities that come with handling lea–”
“And there you go, proving my point of putting your inner cunt on display for us all.”
“I wonder where your parents went wrong with you,” he jabs, in hopes of possibly throwing Safiya off her game.
She, however, snorts and shakes her head at him. “As expected, juvenile.”
He looks like he wants to say something, but chooses instead to once again bring his attention to me. Dragging his knife along the column of Cigs’ neck – the blade winking dangerously under the moonlight – he looks smug as he asks, “So, Dorran. Are you going to kneel now, or should I cut open yourlovelygirlfriend for everyone to see?”
28.
Dorran is livid. It’s obvious by the restlessness in his body language that he’s seconds away from damning it all and fucking up Fredrick for everything he’s done. But he’s also rational; I can tell he’s conflicted by his emotions, just as I am by mine. The thing is: IknowI can grab Fred’s knife from him. IknowI can flip the entire situation around in a single, calculable moment. But the fear of things going south – because the odds have a mind of their own – has me in a chokehold. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not scared of dying. Death is inevitable for us all, but what I’m really scared of is dyingnow, when I don’t fucking deserve to. I have a life with Dorran and my friends, and I haven’t lived it enough to leave it behind just yet. There’s so much I haven’t said; so much I haven’t done. But fuck, this shit is complicated, and I honestly don’t know what to do.
I’m pulled out of my momentary trance by movement. I look ahead, and see Dorran stepping forward. Varsha whispers his name in gentle warning, but he doesn’t acknowledge her. Alex, Solo, and Magner all seem on edge, and rightfully so. Aras’s expression shows shadowed darkness, but it pales in comparison to the anger I see on Safiya’s face.
“Come now, Dorran; I don’t have all night,” taunts Fred. “I’ve been asked to leave these premises, so I’d rather not stay too long in a place where I’m unwanted.”
Dorran’s nostrils flare as his jaw tightens. “You’re going to regret this,” he tells Fred, and then, bringing his expressive gaze on me, he falls to his knees.
My eyes sting; my chest constricts. Just like I don’t deserve what’s happening right now, neither does he. But then again, people like Fredrick love feeding off of others’ circumstantial compulsions, and we’ve fallen into his trap simply because I pronounced justice on his son.
Dorran blinks at me, and when I let go of a shaky breath, he smiles a little, then gives me a wink. The most ruthless man I know – someone feared by anyone who has ever heard of him – is currently on his knees, willing to do anything asked of him, only to save me.
Fredrick stirs behind me, pressing the knife further against my skin. “Good boy,” he mocks, then brings his face to the side of mine. “Such a delightful sight, isn’t he?” he whispers in my ear.
I flinch when I feel the blade’s sharp sting, followed by a bead of blood as it drips down my neck. “I would prefer to watch him pull your innards out of your useless body instead, to be honest.”
He huffs out a pathetic laugh, then moves his face away from me before looking at Dorran. “I’m not seeing your head bowed,” he states. “Are you waiting for an invitation, or should I pull through with my promise of hurting her?” He drags the blade an inch down my neck, and I can’t help but cry out as it slices through my skin. The fresh wound ignites pulsing pain, and the sensation of blood trickling down it makes me hiss in agony.
Dorran tries to get to his feet, but stops halfway when a few of the guards move towards him.
“This isridiculous,” he sneers, resuming his position from a moment ago. “You asked me to kneel, and I knelt. What the fuck more do you want?”
“I also remember asking you to beg,” Fredrick challenges. “But now I’ve had a change of heart, so I’d like you to bow your headandbeg me to let her live.”
Despite the distance between us, I see silver lining Dorran’s eyes as he glowers at Fred. Working his jaw, he sniffs and runs the pad of his thumb under his nose, then brusquely lowers his head. His hands are fisted on his thighs, and his voice is an icy current as he says, “Let Cignette go, Fred.”
“Louder, Dorran. I know you’ve got it in you.”
Dorran bows his head further. “Let Cignette go, Fredrick.”
My chin trembles, and tears blur my view of him as my emotions get the best of me.
Fredrick clicks his tongue. “Did you think his plea was convincing?” he asks Heyman, who hums as if really contemplating the question, then scrunches up his very punchable nose before shaking his head.
