I was annoyed and anxious all at the same time. I knew why he was there. I hadn’t been delivering girls. I knew it wouldn’t take long for word to get back to him, but I played it off like I didn’t know. “What do you need?”
John sat back behind his desk as Donicko pulled out a cigar from his suit jacket.
“You know, Mason,” he started before lighting his cigar and taking a few puffs. “I thought you were smart.”
He stared through me with his dark brown eyes as the words left his lips. Dread filled my veins instantly.
People talk about how they knew when something bad was about to happen, like intuition, but you never understand it until you get that feeling yourself. And I was having that feeling right then. I knew something bad was about to be thrown my way, and I was hoping it had nothing to do with Sophia.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying not to fidget in my seat.
“Do I seem like the kind of man who goes against his word?” He gave me a curious expression, as if he really wanted an answer, so I shook my head. “I didn’t think so.” He got up from his chair, walked over to the TV mounted up to the wall and turned it on.
I looked at John to get some kind of read as to what was about to happen, but he didn’t look at me. He just kept his eyes forward as he stared at the TV. And just as I was turning to look back at the screen, I heard the moaning.
My head snapped up and my body filled with rage. There was a man…on top of Sophia.
My body reacted without thought. I leapt out of my chair, ready to charge Donicko, but I stopped as soon as I saw the gun pointed directly at me.
“Sit back down in the fucking chair, boy.”
He said it in such a calm tone it was frightening. I knew what kind of man he was, so I knew what he was capable of.
I walked back to the chair and sat down, my eyes drawn back up to the TV. Sophia lay on her back, her arms tied to the bed, and a man I’d never seen before was pounding into her.
Fury built in my core as I watched the woman I loved being violated.
“Do you hear that?” Donicko asked.
I glared at him as I tried to ignore the moans coming from the speakers.
“No?” He laughed. “I hear money, Mason. Lots and lots of money.”
I gripped the arm of the chair and my anger grew, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I was just a seventeen-year-old boy who got sucked into a trap and used until I was no longer needed.
I was nothing in his eyes.
He turned the TV off and I averted my eyes to the floor.
“What did you do to her?” I asked in a small voice.
“She’s no longer your concern, Mason.” I closed my eyes as his words seeped in. “You did good. Not the best you could have done, but good. You were starting to find excuses to not do your job, which is fine because it was time for her to go anyway. You were building too much hope for her. She was a lost cause, Mason. You should have seen that.”
I felt like I was being suffocated.
No longer my concern? It was time for her to go?
I dove from my chair and barreled my way out of the office, running directly to the door that led down to the basement. I ran down the steps, skipping some as I went, and hurled myself at her door before flinging it open.
The room was empty.
I ran to her bathroom. Empty. Checked her bed. Empty. I dropped to my hands and knees to look under the bed, but there was nothing there.
Anxiety and fear surged through my body and I could feel my heart trying to pound out of my chest. I tried to take some calming breaths, but I couldn’t breathe at all. I grasped at my chest and fell to her bed as the tears fell from my eyes.
They took her. They took her away and I’ll never see her again. I failed her. I failed everyone. I ruined so many lives including my own.
I was a monster.
I curled into a ball on her bed and cried. I’d lost someone else I loved and I wasn’t sure I could deal with it. How do you deal with knowing you’re the reason two people no longer lived?
Mom’s gone. Sophia might as well be dead.
And I’m the murderer.
Chapter 28
Mason
I woke up in a cold sweat with my heart racing. I rubbed at my eyes and flung my legs over the side of the bed, disoriented and nauseous as I stumbled my way to my bathroom. I had no idea what I was doing in the spare bedroom, and I didn’t have time to think about it as the contents of my stomach started to make their appearance.
I made it to the bathroom just in time to hug the toilet. I moaned as I sat back against the wall, tilted my head back, and closed my eyes.
Flashes of the dream came flooding back. Memories I’d put behind me that never seemed to stay away. My life was still haunted by my mistakes, by all the things I’d done wrong that I wished I could have changed.
It was useless, though. Wishful thinking.