His laugh is anything but comical; it’s evil, unnerving. “There is always someone higher and bigger than you, Luca. You should know that,” Aiden yells from outside the bedroom. I’m hit again, but I keep finding leverage and with everything in me, I buck myself able to right my feet and twist, rolling onto my side, I spot my gun. Gleaming in the light like a beacon, helping a ship come to land. I claw the floor when I yank my leg out from under him, rear back and kick him in the nuts. His groan fills the bathroom; his instinct is to grab his crotch and soothe his nuts, while I can maneuver toward the gun.
Finger reach, but her name stops me. “Everything you do at the moment will determine what happens to Rowan. We know where she is.” It feels like cold water has been poured over me; I stop. Immediately my fight gone because of them speaking one word, her name. The one thing on this fucking earth that can make me crumble.
Aiden now stands in the bathroom, clothed, looking like the piece of shit he is. I’m confused, dizzy, but not fucking done. My eyes veer to the gun. “You all opened Pandora's box, and you left the bitch open.” Aiden walks toward me as the other man finally stands to his full height.
Why did I fuck around? Why didn’t I just shoot the motherfucker. I chastise myself.
Aiden bends down next to me, grabbing my gun. His cockiness oozes from him. “I have people all over, Luca. And one of those people that I love dearly, you fucked with.”
I blink my eyes a few times, blood flowing into my vision, blurring it. “I don’t know anyone.” I shake my head, honestly confused.
“No?” He places my gun in the back of his pants before he brings his hands in-front of him, resting on his knees, fidgeting with something…. My stomach sinks when I see the ring that adorns his finger. Knowing it anywhere and where it belongs to…them, The Unseen Beast
“How?” That is all I can muster.
Chapter Thirty-three
Rowan
I've drawn my hood down, covering my face, hiding myself from prying eyes walking down the sidewalk like I belong. My sole focus is on the house catty-corner from me. My body feels like it's buzzing, knowing redemption is coming and soon.
Swiping the blonde wig's bangs out of my eye, I step off the sidewalk; closing the distance between me and David, him not knowing how close he is to death. And I love the high I feel from knowing that fact.
With my back straighter, one hand in my coat pocket, hugging the gun, I rapidly knock on his door.
“Who the fuck is it?!” is screamed from behind the door. I hear shuffling before the locks disengage. My heart pounds, the grip on the gun tighter.
The door is yanked open; I look up, eye to eye with the man whose blood is flowing through my veins. The man who sold me to the monsters who visit me in my nightmares.
“What?” he spits out, his breath tinged with tobacco and stale alcohol as he rocks unsteadily on his feet.
Pursing my lips, the smell revolting. I try to cover my voice, “I was pointed to your house to score, said you had the good stuff.” I know from the last time I was here, he sells, so I hope that’s believable. Using my hand to wipe my nose, sniffling, trying to make it more convincing.
David looks me up and down, pushing the door wide open for me to come in.
Upon entering, the smell is as bad as the last time I visited, and the floor is even more littered than before. Walking in, I step over trash, tripping on a beer can.
“Excuse the mess, wasn’t expecting visitors,” he slurs, trying to be funny.
I don’t answer him.
He pitters around on his table. “How much do you want?”
My fingers run up and down the barrel of the gun, turning around and seeing the baggies of white powder laid out in different amounts. Shrugging, I say, “I want a hundred.”
He looks at me more intently, “Have we met before?” he asks, eyes looking me up and down. My stomach churns at his stare, making me sick.
“No, I don’t think so.” It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, fuck, and before that, he barely saw me, only when he’d come in and wreak havoc on my nervous system and body.
The flick of his lighter sounds before he takes a drag of his cigarette. The smoke bellows out. “I make concessions for new customers.” He raises his eyebrows up and down.
I want to vomit right on his nasty ass floor.
Not able to stand still, I pace in front of him. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
He leans back on the couch. “You help me and I’ll help you.”
Revolting. I tighten my hand on the barrel of the gun. “I don’t think that would be good.” I watch his hand travel down to his crotch area, rubbing it.
