He swallows and then grabs my arms. He's gripping them so tightly it feels like he's cutting off my circulation."They've taken your girl."
Chapter Seventy-One
Iwatch my brothers shore up the scaffolding on the front of the building. The cops and fire brigade kicked us out of here following the explosion three days ago. We've only been back an hour, but the boys who own our construction business got right to work. I’ve been stood watching them since they started, not because I know what they are doing, but because I don't know what else to do.
I've been riding around this fucking city, trying to find any information on where Nova might be. But nothing, nobody seems to know anything at all. Every time I get back, Mason asks me if I've found anything. I can't face the kid. I can't tell him again I have nothing.
He and Marissa saw the whole thing. After the van crashed through the gates, Nova jumped from the sofa and raced toward them. But halfway across, the van crashed through the front of the building. As everything went flying and the building shook, she dropped to the floor to avoid a flying fucking chair, and as she stood, some bastard grabbed her from behind. She'd tried to fight them off, but a second person grabbed her. Whoever they were, they were dressed in black balaclavas, covering their faces.
Mason saw the whole thing. Once we’d calmed him down, he just kept begging me to find her, telling me that he should have stopped them. He wakes up every night screaming about how much he didn't help her. And no matter how many times I tell him he did nothing wrong, he just won't believe me.
"Brother." Wrath places his hand on my shoulder. "How you holding up?" he asks, concern etched across his face.
"I'm okay. Where's Mase?" I ask, suddenly realising he's not with him.
"Relax, brother, he's with Firecracker at the cafe. Prospect and Tongue are with him, along with two of Arthur’s men." He folds his arms across his chest as he watches me.
"Stop staring at me, I'm fine," I bite.
I glance at him, and he raises an eyebrow at my tone. I roll my eyes and turn back to the building. "The boys reckon they can have the building repaired in a couple of weeks. Until then, we're good to use the side entrance. We can move the bar into the back dining room, make that our main room until this is ready."
"Ice—"
"It will take a little bit of work, but I can get the other prospects on it. I'll give them a hand when I'm not riding the city," I tell him, cutting him off.
He steps in front of me, cutting off my field of vision. "Ice, don't close yourself off, brother. Talk to me."
I shake my head and try to step away from him, but he grabs my arm. "I can't, Wrath. You know better than anyone how it feels to lose the one person who means the most to you. You know how it feels when the person you love is taken. I have to close myself off or I'll break."
"You're right, brother. I do know how it feels. And that is why I'm asking you to talk to me. I'm here for you. Let me be your shoulder." His sincerity has me breaking down. I give him a nod and walk toward the back of the clubhouse where the climbing frame is.
I grab the bars and rest my forehead on the side of the platform, when I hear him approach. I take several deep breaths, trying to hold it together.
"Brother." He places a hand on my shoulder.
It's all it takes. My knees buckle and I drop to the floor. He drops with me, pulling me to him. "I can't lose her, man. She's my entire fucking world. Every second she's away from me, I feel my heart break a little more." I'm wracked with sobs, the pain ripping through me as I continue. "And her brother, man, he asks me all the time, am I going to save her, and why haven't I brought her home? How the fuck am I meant to face him every day knowing that I can't even fucking figure out where she is?"
He doesn't respond, he doesn’t placate me, he just holds me and lets me break at the back of the clubhouse where we're alone.
I'm tired. I've barely slept the last three days. Knowing what's coming is better than being woken by their fists.
I sigh when I hear their footsteps approaching. There doesn't seem to be any plan from them, they come in and shout, occasionally give me a slap, and then they turn and leave. I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for whatever they plan on saying or doing before the door swings open. I jump as it slams against the wall.
"Oh, look, she’s awake," he sneers as he strides toward me.
I blow out a breath and look up as he stops in front of me. "Did you really think you could fucking run away from us? Did you really fucking think we wouldn't come and get you?" he snaps before backhanding me across the face so hard my cheek burns.
"You lied to us. You tried to steal from us, and you hurt us for the last six years. We're fucking family, you're my uncle, you're meant to love family. You are scum. I hate you," I yell at him. I've tried being quiet, I've tried being the weak little girl, but that doesn't stop him. I figure I've got nothing to lose now.
His face twists with anger as he kneels down, getting into my face. He grabs my cheeks and squeezes so hard it throbs. I feel hot tears run down my face. "We took you in, we took care of you, gave you a roof over your head and fed you, you ungrateful little bitch," he spits at me. I'm so focussed on his face, I don't see his fist until it's too late. I double over, the force of him hitting my stomach takes my breath away.
I cough out a laugh. "You're kidding, right?" I ask incredulously. "You barely fed us anything, I had to cook and clean that entire fucking house everyday. When I finally got my job,you took my entire pay to cover the cost of having to look after us. You beat me almost every day from the day we moved in. What part of that do you think is okay? What part of that do you think is right?" My voice is getting louder, my anger bubbling to the surface. "You fucking ruined us, ruined the memory of our parents. I hate you."
"You're a selfish little brat. You deserved everything you got," my aunt screams at me and rushes over, backhanding me across the face.
She catches my lip with her ring, and I feel it split. I gently run my tongue along my it, the distinct coppery tang hitting my senses. She continues to scream at me, but I tune her out as I let my eyes slide to my uncle stood behind her, his anger radiating from him. I watch him place his hands on his hips, and my stomach flips as I swallow the lump in my throat. My eyes focus on the handgun tucked in the waistband of his trousers.
He doesn’t carry it around with him often, so the fact that he has it now makes me feel sick. I’ve got to get out of here.
