Diesel saw that before any of us. The rest of us lived in ignorance, unwilling to bend and break. Not him, he ripped open those walls inside me, refusing to hide from the truth. Some might call him crazy, but maybe he’s just enlightened…and, okay, a little crazy.
Kenzo…fuck, Kenzo. It will kill him if I die. He already lost his mum, and he’s got such a caring heart, even if you don’t always see it. When he loves, he loves hard. He’s all in.
Ryder will blame himself. He thinks it’s his job to protect everyone, to see everything coming, but he’s only human. It won’t stop him from hating himself however.
Garrett is so close to the edge anyway, this might push him over. My scarred enforcer will become lost in his demons until it gets him killed.
So no, I can’t die here, because it might break them, make them weak, and let the Triad kill them. I refuse to be the reason they die. I refuse to die myself.
As soon as I realise that, calm settles in my bones. I’m not fucking dying here. If I’m going to die, it will be surrounded by my men with a gun in my hand and a smile on my face. I need to tell them I love them.
The door opens, and Andrew strolls in, followed by Baldie. Shit, okay, it’s torture time. I’ve survived worse, I can survive this. I keep telling myself that as I tilt my head back and offer them a smile. “Hello, boys, my safe word is bubbles, by the way.”
“You won’t need a safe word,” Baldie jokes.
“I bet you say that to all the girls, probably why you don’t get past the first date.” I grin.
Mohawk, Andrew, laughs. “She’s not wrong.”
Baldie steps towards me and slams the gun into my stomach, making me puff out a breath. When I can finally breathe again, I grin. “Damn, boy, don’t you know how to play? You gotta start soft, get them all warmed up for you. You don’t just slam your piece in hoping for the best.” I look over at Andrew. “Who’s the newb? Do you bring him around like one of those women with chihuahuas in their purses?”
He bursts out laughing and glances over at Baldie, whose whole head is turning red. I watch with sick fascination as it crawls along his shiny head. “Do you wax that? Like, do you buff it too, like polishing floors? ’Cause it’s hella shiny—”
This time, he smashes the gun into my aching shoulder. A grunt escapes my lips from the sudden blast of pain, and I try to curl into it to protect it. I learned when I was young that eventually, everyone screams, it might spur them on, but honestly, people only don’t scream in the movies. Oh, a knife in your gut? Let me just stay silent, it doesn’t work that way. But there are two ways you can play it—you can let them destroy you, break you down, or you can use it against them.
Flip the narrative, be unexpected.
That’s what I do. When I can breathe without crying, I wink at him. “Is your nob bald too?”
He slams his gun into my other shoulder, and I feel a crack, goddamn bitch. “Motherfucking bald bitch,” I snarl. “That ain’t no way to treat a lady.”
“You ain’t no fucking lady, you whore, you’re a dead woman walking.”
It goes silent then, and I look over at Andrew. “This is super awkward, ’cause I’m not walking. Do you think he gets all his lines from bad action movies?”
This time Andrew stops him. “Franny, enough,” he snaps. “She’s mine, you’re here for muscle.”
I hold in my laughter for as long as I can, which is all of thirty seconds, then I laugh so hard, a bit of pee comes out. “Oh my God, your name is Franny? Holy shit, no wonder you’ve got anger issues, poor Franny!” I howl.
Baldie growls and comes towards me, but Andrew slides in front of him and, for a moment, I see why he’s the torturer. Anger flickers across his face, and he seems to grow larger. Baldie, aka Franny, backs down, swearing as he turns away, and then Andrew relaxes, slouching again and grinning like he hasn’t got a care in the world.
But I’ve seen it now, what he hides underneath. The true Andrew, he likes pain, he likes it to hurt, this should be…fucking horrible.
Andrew turns and shrugs. “Behave, he might kill you.”
“Yeah, that ain’t gonna work. People have been telling me to behave since I was a kid, and look where I am.” I shrug in an ‘aww shucks’ type way as he heads over to a tray and sets out his equipment. “So tell me, how long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, a few years,” he replies, as he picks up a scalpel.
“Get a lot of customers?” I inquire calmly.
He steps before me with a cruel smile. “You’re a strange one, do you know that? Never mind, they all bleed red.”
“How freaked would you be if my blood came out blue now?” I laugh, but it turns into a groan. I grind my teeth as he slashes across my face, a light cut, but enough that I feel blood drip down my cheek. “Motherfucker, that’s the goddamn money maker, kid.”
“Apologies.” He nods and drags the blade down my arm. “Is that better?”
“Much, thanks. Don’t fuck up my tats, though, or Garrett will be pissed, and last time he had to tattoo me…well, let’s just say it was a happy ending all around.”
Andrew grins. “Of course.” He starts to slice the knife across the top of my feet, and I let out a little scream which has Baldie laughing.
“Hey, Franny, you think your mum called you that because of your giant vagina?” I call breathlessly.
Andrew steps it up a notch then. When he slices across my stomach, I have no time for talking, all I can do for the next however long is breathe and scream. When he moves back, my head hangs as I struggle to hold in my tears, so being the crazy bitch I am, I twist my wrist in the barbed wire, cutting it so the pain pushes back the waterworks.
They can have my screams, nothing else.
When I’m more me, I raise my head and spit blood at Baldie and laugh. “That was fun, what’s next?”
“Tell me how to get into their apartment?” Andrew questions. Ah, so they don’t know that much.
“I don’t know, they like to blindfold me, the kinky bastards.” I grin.
He stabs me again, and I groan but breathe through it, the agony surging inside me now. Shit, shit, shit. Do not fucking pass out, Roxy. When I feel like I’m not going to, I smile at him, my lips feeling a bit numb. “Can I call a friend for the answer?”
He sighs and wipes the blade. “Come on, Roxy, it would be a shame to waste such a woman. Tell me what I need to know. Tell me everything about the Vipers.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna hard pass on that one. No passing go, no collecting your money, bitch, those fuckers are insane.”
He crouches and grabs my knees, peering up at me. “More scared of them than me?”
“Hell fucking yes. Did you not hear me? They are insane, and they like me! Imagine what they do to people they don’t like…” I grin wider then. “Imagine what they will do to you for touching me. Last time, they broke the guy’s hands and ripped out his tongue…I wonder, will you scream?”
I watch as he lifts the knife covered in blood. It reminds me of Diesel, and weirdly, my pussy clenches…like, really, ho? Now is not the time.
Yeah, I’ve successfully pissed Andrew off.
He backhands me, and my head snaps to the side as blood fills my mouth. Spitting it out, I turn back around with a laugh, grinning widely at him, blood undoubtedly covering my teeth and lips if his disgusted sneer is anything to go by. “You call this torture? My foreplay is harder. Come on, you can do better,” I taunt.
“Tell me!” he roars in my face, impatient now that he’s realising how hard it will be to break me.
Licking my lips, I look between his eyes. There’s no way I’m betraying my guys. They tell you under torture to reveal information that’s not important and is close to the truth, but no way am I risking that. Diesel would murder me, love or not. I know it’s going to bring a world of pain, but I can take it.
I can survive it.
Sucking in a deep breath, I nod seriously, my whole body aching, blood dripping down my curves, and agony ripping through my veins. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you…”
They both wait expectantly as I try to make myself look meek and broken, even letting tears fill my eyes, real ones from the hurt. Sucking in another painful breath, my ribs protesting, I belt out, “And I will always love you…” Andrew flinches from how loud I sing.
He backhands me again, cutting me off mid-song, so I spit the blood out and spin back to him. “No? Not feeling it? What about some Metallica? No, what about Tay-Tay? You look like a secret Swifty fan!”
Baldie steps forward, aiming his gun at me. “Make her talk,” he demands. “We don’t have long before they come for her.”
I grin at that. “Franny, they already are, and you’re so fucked. Now where was I? Oh, Tay-Tay—” I start to sing and, with a growl, he rips open the door and storms off. “Wait!” I call. “We were having so much fun, Franny! I didn’t even get to my originals yet!”
Andrew sighs as if he’s disappointed in me. “Roxy, this could have been so easy. You could have died quickly.”