Part of me cared, part of me didn’t. I had to say though, I’d never had a man try to kill me and then come to save me after his attempt to kill me failed.
I walked to the window and stood there, looking around the large building. There wasn’t much to see. No big shock there either. That’s how it all worked. Money controlled the entire underground scene. And so many important people were involved in it all, that’s what really kept it going. I remembered Dad meeting with cops, politicians, businessmen. They’d talk about the fights, the buildings, the bets. Dad had a way of bringing these guys to see some of his favorite fighters as they trained. I was always the young woman who had to carry drinks and food to and from. Wearing nothing more than a bikini, showing off the body that had been given to me. I was a distraction, a way to get their hearts racing, because Dad told me that when men had power and a hard-on, they’d bet the world to keep the feeling going.
Luke always hated it, too. He hated that Dad pushed him into fighting, demanding Luke show his anger. Especially after Ma died of a heart attack, all hell broke loose in my family. Ma kept things under control for the most part. But the second she passed, I was put on display like some sex object and Luke finally found the rage and anger. He trained in a different way though. He took to the streets and picked fights. And anytime he was picked up for it, the cops brought him to Dad and Dad negotiated Luke’s ass from getting into serious trouble. Then Luke started getting mad at everyone, including me and Dad. He hit me one time and Dad went after him. By then, Luke was big. Luke was the monster I feared in my nightmares. He threw Dad over his shoulder like a rag doll, smashing him through the coffee table in the living room. Dad broke two ribs but played it off, pushing Luke into the fights. Even then, Luke started to get too violent, if that were possible.
The object of fighting wasn’t to actually kill anyone, unless you were hired to do so, which did happen. Luke didn’t care about money - at first. He cared about hurting people. His eyes had a fire inside them like he wanted to kill someone.
It was terrifying to watch. It was terrifying to live through. Which was why I made the decision I made after Dad died. It was my chance to escape. It took me months of working, saving, and hiding money from Luke. Sneaking around behind his back and away from his goons to meet with a guy named Roc. He was the one who was supposed to help me escape it all.
He was never supposed to be killed.
And I was never supposed to be holding the weapon.
Caught. Redhanded. Completely fucked.
I shut my eyes and hung my head. Maybe it would be easier to just calmly wait all this out and take a bullet.
My eyes started to fill with tears as I retraced all the steps of my life, wondering which one really set me on the wrong path.
That’s when the door squeaked as it opened.
I turned, putting my back against the window.
“Hey, princess, let’s go,” Tommy said.
“No,” I said. “If you’re going to kill me, do it right now.”
“I’m not going to kill you. Come on. Let’s go.”
I slowly walked forward. The once aggressive asshole was now calm. It was like he was afraid to touch me.
I walked to the doorway and he held the door and pointed the way. He even smiled.
What the hell is going on?
We walked along the hallway, slowly.
“Hey, princess,” Tommy said. “No hard feelings about that sandwich thing. If I knew…”
I looked at Tommy.
He was sweating.
Holy crap, he was nervous!
I thought I was supposed to be the nervous one here.
Tommy pointed the way again and then we stopped in front of an office door. I heard voices behind it.
Tommy put his hand to the doorknob. “Hey. If you could let all that go, I’d appreciate it. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I didn’t mean to threaten you. The whole car thing… hey… that’s just business, princess.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to know what the hell was happening.
Tommy opened the door to the office.
There were two men near the right wall, suits and ties, looking miserable and tough.
Then I saw Wes.
He was alive!
He stood in a black t-shirt, his defined arms filling the sleeves easily. His face looked rough though, along with his hair. He looked like he’d been in a fight.
As he ran his hand through his hair, he grinned and winked at me. “Hey, sweetie.”
“Wes, what happened to you?”
“You should see the other guy,” he said. He offered his hand. “Come here. It’s okay.”
Behind the desk stood Aton. His eyes were in bewilderment as he stared at us. I felt Wes pull me close to him, his hand going around my waist. I crashed against his side, feeling the hardness of muscle. I swore he was built from stone.
Aton’s mouth slowly parted. His hands made fists and put them to the desk. He leaned forward.
I swallowed hard, my entire body starting to shake.
“Goddamn,” Aton said. “I mean… just… goddamn.”