ACE
27 YEARS OLD
Pure hot rageboils over in my veins. Taking Hazel from me and handing her over to my shithead brother, is a mistake that my father is going to pay for. I’m seeing fucking red as Kyle places his hands all over her. Forget justice, forget the plan, I’ll kill them all for this.
I’m not above spilling their blood for coming between me and my girl. She belongs to me, and I promised to stay with her the whole time. Now, because of my family, I’ve broken that promise, and there’s no telling what my brother plans to do with her.
My imagination runs wild with the worst-case scenarios, I just hope he doesn’t realize her true identity. She’s fucked if Kyle finds out. I have to get to her before then. But as my mind whirls, the two overly muscled bouncers are tying my hands and feet with a zip tie.
I can’t wipe seeing Hazel’s frightened eyes from my mind, seeing her frozen and unable to do anything but stand there, stunned, and terrified. Ever my little doe.
The room they’ve stuffed me in is tucked away in the basement. Dirty concrete surrounds me on all sides, letting me know that this room sees a lot of action. And not all of it good.
A round drain in the middle of the floor has me wondering what the fuck they need that for, and an ominous thought occurs to me that they probably use it to wash blood down.
I’ve known for my entire life that my father was a bad man. Crooked. Calculated. Self-serving. These are all words that I’ve associated with the man who helped bring me into this world. It’s everything I’ve tried not to be, though some traits can’t be helped, I guess.
“Nice to see you again, Pops.” I say, as the man himself waltzes into the room after countless minutes have passed, jacket off and sleeves rolled up. The sight of him like this brings me right back to childhood. Ever the epitome of demanding respect and throwing his authority around. Men like him have been told all their lives that they should expect to be worshipped for just simply existing. They’ve been told that because of their sex and color of their skin, they’re owed anything they want. And too many buy into that lie. Treating others as if they’re less than. If you challenge those beliefs, then you’re seen as a danger. A problem that needs to be dealt with, swiftly. Because we can’t have people out there threatening their very fragile egos. Their sense of power.
Men like my father are drunk on that power. Willing to do anything in order to keep it.
“I thought you would have learned your lesson the last time I had to do this.” His hand wraps around my chin and yanks my face closer to his. I can tell he’s studying the prominent scar he put there himself. Just him and the tip of his knife. Carving away my flesh as a reminder to never embarrass him again. A constant reminder of my failure as a son to haunt me every time I look in the mirror. Branded onto me for eternity as if I could ever forget.
The punch comes swift and fast to the middle of my already sore stomach, making me double over and heave my guts onto the cold floor, where I crumple from the force of his hit. I didn’teven have time to brace myself for it, though I don’t know what good it would have done. Face digging into the concrete, I’m able to peek an eye open, only to see the heel of his shoe coming right for me. With a crunch, rubber meets bone, and a sputter of blood comes pouring out of my nose. When I open my eyes again, my vision is distorted and blurry, but I can tell he’s enjoying this. This is when he’s able to unleash the beast he so carefully hides from the public. His true self. There’s a bounce to his step as he brings his foot down again, this time to my chest. Another crack and jolt of pain races through my body. Blinding agony rips along my ribs, letting me know at least two or more of them are broken. My breathing is labored but at least he didn’t puncture my lungs.
Every part of my chest aches. The broken ribs feel as if they’re free floating in my cavity. Somehow, I manage to roll myself with considerable pain onto my front right as my father’s foot crashes down on me again. Only this time, he lands on my tied hands. The zip tie snaps, allowing me to grab him by the ankle and flip him on his back. A loud crack reverberates throughout the room as his skull meets the floor.
The two goons run at me, but they aren’t paying attention to where the other one is and end up running into each other. If I wasn’t fighting for my life, I would have found that comical.
My only goal is to get the fuck out of here and find Hazel. It’s been too long already, and the fear of my brother discovering her true identity spurs me on. The adrenaline pumping through my veins allows me to snap the zip ties laced around the bottom of my ankles as my father sputters on the floor next to me. Blood slipping down his chin and spraying out from his mouth.
Not an ounce of pity or remorse fills me as I look over at his petrified eyes. His hand shakes, reaching for me as I stand. The effort to get myself upright feels astronomical, but I don’t have a choice. If I don’t leave this room, I know what fate myfather’s men have planned for me but dying isn’t an option. Ribs screaming in agony as pain races down my spine, I push through the discomfort and make a run for it.
The bodyguards are quick to chase after, guns pulled. The door is just beyond my reach when a shot rings out. I don’t stop. I don’t think, I just run, grabbing the handle, and slamming the door shut behind me. It slams on the outstretched hand of one of the guards. Fingers smashed between the door, I’m able to wrestle the gun from his grip before shutting it completely. His mangled hand retreating as I slam the lock in place.
Another round of shots rings out at the door, but I’m already sprinting down the hallway. The effort makes my lungs burn. Pure agony slices into me as my feet hit the ground.
My disheveled appearance gives me away, so I slow and duck into one of the alcoves, straightening my tie and running my hand through my hair. If I can manage to snag a mask off someone without getting caught, I might have a chance to get us the hell out of here in one piece.
I just hope I’m not too late.
CHAPTER 25
HAZEL
27 YEARS OLD
“Where hasmy brother been hiding you?” Kyle asks, his voice full of syrup. The sickly sweetness of it churns my stomach. His manner and tone are that of a well practiced politician, giving a cadence laced in charm, used to hide the malevolence that lurks beneath the surface.
I’ve been pulled into a secluded room above the ballroom area, the sounds emanating from the party below have been significantly muffled, leading me to believe this room is soundproof.
Meaning that if I scream, no one will hear me.
I doubt it will do any good anyways, seeing as how the people here responded to the Senator and his evil as fuck son, acting as if they were in the presence of royalty.
It’s amazing that even with all the time that’s passed, I can still see glimpses of the boy I once knew in his mannerisms as he goes to pour two tall flutes of champagne. The same assuredness sits snuggly about his broad shoulders, and his jaw is set in a tight clench as if he’s biting back what he would truly like to say to me. I never saw it for what it was before, but now it’s so clear that I’m looking at a man full of lies, steeped in manipulation, and riddled with danger.
I turn to face the doors, wondering where they’ve taken Ace. Surely, his father wouldn’t hurt his own son?
