“Holy fucking shit. She wasn’t kidding,” I cursed under my breath.
Get out. Go. My brain silently urged my legs to run, to make a mad dash for the sanctity I’d find in the club upstairs. Still, I remained glued to the spot, mesmerized by the pure evil of an act I’d only ever seen in movies. This was seriously not happening. My breathing labored, and each one deeper than the previous, I leaned forward again.
The room with its concrete floors stained with dark patches of God knew what, was empty except for a man dressed only in his boxers and cuffed by the ankles and wrists to a chair. And like some sick torture chamber, a table laid with various tools and knives was the only other furniture. Two men and a woman stood to the side while Lorenzo leaned down and grasped the neck of the bound man.
Given the distance I couldn’t hear what he asked the man but judging by his reaction he didn’t like the answer. For only a split-second Lorenzo lifted his head. Abrupt paranoia clung to my skin as if he could see me and my toes dug into my shoes to stay put. His sinister smile sent shivers racing down my spine. It was clear he wasn’t a man to cross. And then as though that smile just unleashed the devil, he turned vicious. I tasted the bile that flowed up from my stomach as I watched him lose his shit and pummel the man’s face. Every part of me tensed. I clenched my fists, biting down on my lip to keep me from yelling for Lorenzo to stop. The woman’s cries mixed with the man’s groans didn’t drown out the hard thumps to his face. I flinched when Lorenzo finally stood back and the bound man’s head sagged to one side like a deflated balloon.
Call it idiocy, morbid curiosity, or teenage infatuation but I was intrigued by his cool and calm demeanor as if he hadn’t just beat a man to within an inch of his life. My feet resembled led as I watched him talk to the man. Whatever he was saying, I didn’t think his words were meant to calm the injured man. Then like some well-rehearsed scene from an action movie, Lorenzo pulled out a gun from the back of his pants and placed it to the man’s brow.
My heart stopped. It fucking stopped, the ground opening up beneath me as he pulled the trigger. Lorenzo didn’t even flinch when the dead man’s head jerked back on impact, the sound of the shot vibrating around the room, cleverly masked by the booming music from the club upstairs. Blood, thick and so red it was almost black, gushed from the open wound. Gagging, I wrenched my body back, hitting the wall hard. But the pain held no effect as I dry-heaved until my lungs hurt. When I could no more, I pulled in deep shuddering breaths. Shit just got real.
While a part of me knew I should be hightailing it out of there, I leaned back in, waiting a moment longer to see what they planned to do with the woman. Her sobs grew louder when one of the men, guided her toward a seat and bound her to it.
“Shut the fuck up,” he barked, and she immediately quietened to soft whimpers. They still hadn’t removed her blindfold which was a good thing. I doubted she’d handle the sight of the dead man. Despite my roiling stomach, I felt sorry for the woman, knowing I couldn’t do anything to help her. Zena was right, these people were hardcore. Even if I called the cops, there was no guarantee I’d be safe, and the cops would want to question me. I couldn’t take that risk of endangering my family. I was in enough shit already just by being here.
The man who came with Lorenzo to the bar approached him and held out his hand to show Lorenzo something. From where I stood, it looked like a phone. I wasn’t sure. Lorenzo’s head snapped up. He stared straight at me. “Shit.” Panic induced adrenaline pumped through my veins at the thought of being caught. Even from this distance, those blue eyes were penetrative like he knew I stood there. For one insane moment, I stopped breathing, waiting for him to come charging toward me.
Still staring my way, he shouted at the man standing next to the woman. “Remo!” his yell resounded through the empty room. When Remo reached his side, Lorenzo said something to him and the other man.
I didn’t stick around to find out what they were up to. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I tiptoed the first few steps away from the door and when I was sure they wouldn’t hear me, I raced down the passages toward the stairs, adrenaline pumping through my veins. With every few steps, I took, I turned to see if I was being followed. Breathing hard, I mounted the stairs two at a time. The second I passed through the doors at the top, I took a moment to catch my breath. Sweat trickled down my spine and perspiration beaded above my upper lip. Even though I knew the low lights of the club would give me some protection, my heart thumped a harsher beat. I hurried toward Zena.
Chapter 6
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ZENA (22YRS)
“Hey, Zee, where’s Ray?” It was only when Austin called across the counter that I realized it’d been a while since I’d sent Rayden off to fetch the drinks from the storeroom.
I turned, returning Austin’s smirk with one of my own. “He’s busy.”
Grinning, he smacked the counter. “Busy or did he score pussy elsewhere since you’re playing hard to get?”
“Fuck off, Austin.” I scowled. “You’re being a bitch as usual.” He had it in him to rile me up with just a smile. Forever reminding me every chance he got that I was stringing Rayden along.
“Yeah, babe, this bitch can do a lot more for Rayden than you can.”
