Chapter 29

Sevina

Rain drips against the window, cold leaking through the worn frame above our thin mattress.

For the first time in long months I can’t fall asleep.

Corrin’s breathing unevenly, his arm twitching over my side.

Oh, Corrin, you, selfless idiot, a fish out of the water in the mob world, trying to swim, crawl into the opposite direction of the wind or current. Hurt to its bones, but still crawling.

I wriggle out from under his arm.

“Where’re you going?” He whispers, his eyelids half-closed.

I reach for the blanket from the nearby chair and cover him. “Gotta pee.”

He pulls the sheet around himself and I stroke his long hair, pulling him back to sleep, almost feeling his lips on mine again. I’ve seen so many people kiss, felt the smoothness, the roughness, the lust, and the satisfaction. All that was left is to experience it in real life, see if it’s true. And it did heat me, it was pleasant. Something about his touch, his arms tight around my waist, made me feel safer beyond anything I’ve ever felt. The worst part is I have no idea why.

As I caress Corrin back to sleep I reach for his silver gun under his mattress. Content, he drifts off without noticing.

I get up, wrestle into my boots and slip on the holster. I rotate my shoulders. It’s a weird feeling—having something inanimate hanging at my side under my armpit, but I don’t want to leave Corrin any weapons, lest he grows courageous.

With a careful touch I wake Quint. “Quiet.” I put my finger to my lips. “I need you to look at me.”

“What? Why?” He yawns.

“I’m going to get Will. I need to know how to drive.”

“I’m coming.”

“No,” I hiss. “I won’t risk what happened to Terrel happening to you.”

“That’s why we work in pairs,” Quint murmurs. “That’s what team is for. So you cover each other. I’m not letting you go alone.”

His words are firm, a resolution, and I have no choice but to nod. He’s a part of my team, a part that knows this life way better than the sleeping piece of torment in the room’s corner.

Professionally quietly, Quint gets himself off the bed. Capo’s girl watches us from the opposite sofa. I shush her as I keep glimpsing at Corrin, making sure he’s asleep. I take my coat and Quint and I tiptoe out.

“What’s the plan?” Quint asks when we sit into the van.

“I don’t know. I’ll look him in the eyes and try to negotiate.” Tense, I bite my lip and stop when it stings.

“I doubt he’ll listen to you.”

“Probably not. But he has Will, what else can I do?”

Quint starts the engine. “Not much. But Sevina, do you realize you might end up enslaved for the rest of your life. That we might not even save Will.”

I wring my hands on my lap. “I know.” Is all that comes out.

No. I will not be enslaved. I will endure. I always have and I always will— that’s the only thing I can tell myself so not to panic. If they take me I’ll fight from within, until I’ve seen every man’s eyes, until they have nothing to hide from me. I turn my head at Quint. “But how are you still following me, Quint?”

With a kind smile, he avoids the question. “How can I not, when you’re such a courageous Oddhot.”

I chuckle. “Courageous? I thought I was just an Oddhot.”

“Don’t wallow in it now. Corrin’s way hotter.” Perhaps the fact that we might not live to see tomorrow made him bolder. It certainly did me over the last weeks.

I fasten my seatbelt and take out my phone. I inhale as I dial the number that was left on Quint’s back, put it on speaker.

“Hello,” a male voice answers, but it’s not Reid’s voice.

“This is…uh…it’s about the detective, the cop,” I stammer.

“Which one?”

“Will Brice? We’re… the kids who burned the shipment. We’re on the way to the location.”

“The boss will be there.” The call ends and I slacken in my seat, clutching the phone in my sweaty hands. “I hope we’ll do an exchange. Me and my powers for Will.” Quint gives me a sideways glance. “You just have to promise me you’ll make sure no one tries to save me.”

Quint grins. “You know how well that’ll work out.”

“At least don’t let Corrin come back into this life.” The phone vibrates in my hand. Corrin. I ignore it.

“Don’t make the same mistakes Terrel did. That’s not your choice and not mine.” Quint may act dumb but he’s got some good advice.

He’s right. But even if Corrin is the most amazing and loving being I’ve ever met, determined to fix things, no matter how broken they are, no matter how broken I was, he’s too soft for this. And the ganger he accidentally killed, the dead children he saw, is proof of that.

I can’t take this anymore, his thought is clear as police sirens, when they wail through the streets.

Navigation leads us far south of the city, to the grounds between Havason port and Havason Airport— a good couple miles chunk jammed with hangars and shipyards. Dawn sun hasn’t broken through the skyline yet and the streets are empty and fogged, allowing us to race to the destination.

We park further down the street and trot to the address. The area’s isolated with a tall wired fence, enclosing at least five industrial buildings, the biggest one of which is an enormous white hangar. By one of the gates a man on patrol stomps from foot to foot and, when he sees us approaching, says something into his comm. Another man in plain black clothing appears from around the hangar’s corner.

“Follow me.” He leads us through the wired gates and into the vast territory. My feet clamp in the dirt from the recent rain and rich smell of oil, steel, and ocean salt fills me to my core.

Enjoy it. This might be the last smell I’ll ever wallow in.

I shake the grave thought away as we turn the corner and enter the hangar through huge bay doors that’d easily fit a small plane or a boat. The insides of the hangar are vast to say the least, filled with trucks, vans and medium-sized crates and boxes. Three black lavish cars stand in the middle, parked one next to the other. Further away men chit-chat over one of the industrial black boxes.

None of them pay us any attention. It’s as if people come and go every hour.

I jerk when I feel hands on my shoulders, frisking me. Though repulsed I stand patiently while the man pulls my guns from both holsters, hip and shoulder, then the knives. Another man searches Quint, who reacts as much as a wall reacts to a drunk. I know he’s afraid, but as a ganger the last thing he’ll do is let it show.

But instead of Quint in my mind’s eye I see Terrel; his petrified eyes, his dying breath. Ah…I should’ve been more strict and didn’t allow Quint to come with me. Or if I looked into Reid’s eyes back then… I might’ve prevented it… I might’ve done a lot of things differently.

I can still do them now. Now is always an option.

The burly man who frisked me walks to the box and extends Corrin’s holster to one of the men in a black suit as if knowing this particular weapon will please him.

“Finally.” As he turns Reid seizes the silver gun with his sharp cut fingers. “Again.”

“Where’s Will?” I ask sternly. He fixes his eyes on me and I break the contact. He doesn’t know still?

“Who’s Will?” He admires the weapon.

“Will Brice! The cop, you—” I shut up, veins in my arms pulsing. I’ve faced a lot of scary things, death included. I’m not that scared anymore, but I can’t be reckless.

Reid ignores my question. “Is this all of them?” He asks another younger man who stands next to him. Dan.

“Yes,” Dan confirms, his head dipped in front of his father.

I step forward. “It’s not! There are many more of us you have no idea about. Including your son, Corrin Kaynes. The one you ordered Dan to kill. He’s behind all this.”

Reid’s body jerks, eyes bulging, and he pivots to Dan, flabbergasted.

Dan straightens. “I killed him. I have no idea what she’s talking about,” he states firmly, not a clue of a lie on his face or in his tone.

For a second Reid seems torn and I use the crevice. “Did Dan tell you about the information he has access to. To any information—”

“I know what you can do.” His words almost floor me. “My son told me.” He snaps his head back to Dan, wrinkles forming on his sharp face as he scrunches his nose. “Except that he didn’t do what I ordered.”

Dan doesn’t give in to his father suspicious glare. “I killed him.”

“We’ll see.” Before I again demand to see Will Reid addresses his men, motioning at Quint. “Kill him and the detective. Take the girl.” He turns his back, indicating the end of the deal. The hair on my back stands. He didn’t even give me a chance to negotiate.

A weary man with grizzly hair and a gray suit grabs my upper arm.

“I know it all!” I yell out from the depths of my throat. “I know your secrets!” Everyone whirls to me.

“Marty, shut her up!” Dan orders.

I kick the man, Marty, in the knee. He grunts but doesn’t let go and I hear a swoosh of his fist through the air. He punches me into my belly and I gasp, doubling over and my knees buckling.

“I’m sorry,” his gruff words reach my ears. He has a conscience.

Gripping my arm he pulls me painfully up. I have to see his life. I arch back as if I’m about to faint, trusting him to catch me. He does, grabbing me around the sides, and his face faces mine.

“Please don’t,” I whimper in a voice as broken and pleading as I can muster, keeping my legs weak so he has to hold me. Torn, his eyes flit over mine and it’s all I need.

I filter it all in seconds.

Weakness. Reason.

“You’re trying to provide for your family,” I frantically whisper as he stands me upright. “Every day you wake, terrified you won’t see them if you fail. Your pay is shit but you can’t leave and each night you drown deeper and deeper into suicidal thoughts.” He stiffens, not budging from his place and I keep spilling. “If you’re gone, they’ll be safe and Reid will have no reason to hurt them.” Marty’s grip tightens and his eyes sparkle at me.

“I can make it all go away,” I say into his suit. “I’ve been there.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Dan’s distant order. “Bring her here!”

But I talk, multiplying his stupor. “And you wanted a family for so long and you were just another man to come here for prospects. What is it you wanted to be? Your lost ambition? A math teacher. And now you’re stuck here, forced to be violent against an eighteen-year-old.” Marty, as Reid’s left-hand man, manages half of the business. And the man’s already lost and hopeless, just like half of their security men, who don’t get paid enough for their schedule.

“How do you know that?” Marty huffs.

I meet his face. “I told you I know it all and much more. Do you want me to list your security number for your secret stash you’re saving.” I don’t wait for his response and tell him the numbers. Digit by digit I’m shocked by how well my brain processes a new life. I guess it’s like a muscle. I have to train it for it to perform better. “I know way more than your boss does. The place you wanted to ship your family to, that you thought they would be safe at. Imagine if I reveal this intel to Reid.”

His eyebrows curl and he swallows. When I step away, my heart drumming against my ribcage, his hand releases me.

For this moment I’m free!

I must think of a way that would save people I care about, a way that wouldn’t end with me being a toy in a mafia family. I have to talk, I have to try and fight at any cost. So I lie. “All of you! I can make everything better!” I don’t know if I can, but I need their attention. Everyone in the warehouse is looking at me and at Marty’s stupefied posture, even the men beside Quint, holding his arms, ready to haul him away. Most of the thugs look tired and hunched, like overstrained racehorses doing their best to perform, yet Marty’s reaction intrigued them, triggering the soft spot they’re failing to ignore— fear, mistrust for everyone, for Reid.

“You won’t have to follow this son of a bitch.” I point at Reid, trying to elicit some sort of response. “None of these men who kill because they feel like it!” No matter how vile these thugs are, they’re people. And if… if I could get them to my side, somehow, then do something with them, I guess.

With an agitated yank Reid unsheathes the silver gun from the holster and prowls to me, cocking it. He rams it into my head, his eyes storming. A huff of shock escapes me. Reid willing to kill me isn’t what I was expecting.

“Step away,” he growls at Marty, his voice a promise of death at his failure to subdue me. The grizzly man retreats to the side obediently. Yet, his eyes keep flicking to me. He knows that staying with Reid now will cost him his life.

I breathe out, feeling the barrel of the gun press cold against my forehead. I won’t flinch. If I’m going to die I might as well see everything I was fighting against.

Reid’s eyes turn to the side as if someone has uttered into his ear. Must be a commlink.

He grits his teeth and focuses on me. “I will not have a little bitch causing this much trouble.” He meets my gaze. “What do you see?” His eyelid twitches, his whites bright cherry red. One second, two—

Tires screech and a black car skids inside through the bay doors. Not a car, the car… Our capo’s car…

No! Please, no.

I swallow. I should’ve locked Corrin in before I left. And now, when he’s here, if I want him to survive too, I cannot fail.

As if in slow-motion, I look at Reid, who's head is turned away at the approaching vehicle. This man is the boss. He has the power he can use for good or evil. It’s not just his security I need. If I want to help others I need everything he has.

After all this is a game of power. And I think I finally know how I should play it.