“They offered you freedom, didn’t they? That’s how they do it.”
“It was different for me.” He shook his head. “Why am I even talking to you?”
I remained silent, and eventually he exhaled and said, “My twin brother used to be in a gang. No matter how much my mother and I begged him to stay away from that shit, he always thought he knew best. When one of their leaders killed someone, they pressured my brother into taking the blame, to show his loyalty. I asked why the fuck he cared about loyalty if he was gonna end up in prison, but he feared that refusing would get him killed. He got twenty years for pleading guilty. About five years later, Mr. White came to see me.”
I frowned. “He came to see you in person?”
“Yes, maybe because mine was a special case.”
“He offered to free your brother if you came to work for him.”
He nodded. “He wanted ten years, but I got him down to seven. My mother was dying of cancer, and giving her that gift felt worth it. So I agreed, and my brother got out a few months later.”
“Why didn’t he offer this job to your brother?”
“I asked the same thing, and he said he only needed a few people, and working with criminals had proved problematic in the past.”
Yet he still made Bo The Director.
“How long ago was it?” I asked.
“About four years ago. Last year, my brother returned to his old gang. Didn’t take long for him to end up dead with six bullet wounds in an alley.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Fucker had no value for other people’s sacrifices. Anyway, that’s life. I should have asked more questions before signing up for this, that’s for goddamn sure.”
“Then can you please speak with Mr. White before it’s too late?”
Samuel sighed and shook his head, then exited the room, leaving uncertainty in his wake.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
I was scared by the lack of violence.
Bo had never been one to control his temper, and even though years had passed since we last met, a tiger did not change its stripes. Even yesterday, when he fucked me in front of barely conscious Hayden, I felt him holding back.
But why?
I had learned how to handle Bo at his meanest, and this calculated and tamed version of him terrified me. I had no doubt he loved every second of keeping me boiling in dread.
When Samuel walked into my room with the wheelchair, his somber expression signaled bad news. “Where are you taking me?”
“Just get in the chair.”
“Did you speak with Mr. White?”
He pulled me off the bed and into the wheelchair. The dormant pain in my leg erupted, making me yell.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just don’t make this harder.”
Grimacing, I didn’t struggle as he wheeled me out, but I couldn’t shake the menacing feeling of being taken to my execution.
“I wasn’t lying,” I said. “He put those videos online.”
“Shut up, Jonah. Just… don’t act stupid, okay? He’s not playing.”
“What is he planning?”
