Page 56 of The Casella King

She doesn’t reply, just stares at me, and her eyes glance down to my wound. Hastily I place my arm behind me, her eyes finding mine again. She releases a heavy sigh and places the black box on the floor, opening it to rummage through the contents. I try to peek at what she’s doing and what’s in the box, but I can’t see from this distance. I almost think she’s about to pull a weapon or torturous device on me, but when her hand comes into view, she’s holding gauze, a wrap, and ointment. My brows furrow with confusion as she walks over to me. Grabbing my arm, she begins to clean the wound with a cotton ball and antiseptic. I wince when I feel the sting, her hand grabbing onto my arm harder to stop me from moving.

“Why are you helping me?” I question, and she purses her lips, never once taking her eyes off my arm.

“Are you surprised?” She answers my question with a question, the one thing I absolutely despise.

“Are you incapable of answering a question with an answer?” I almost regret asking her when she presses the cotton ball intomy wound harder, and I rip my arm out of her hold with a yelp. Her eyes meet mine, and she pauses as if she’s trying to decipher something.

“Why did you come here?” Her voice is small, almost a whisper, catching me off guard as I expected her to hurt me further. I stay silent for a beat.

“For revenge,” I finally say, feeling her eyes blaze a hole through me.

“Don’t lie, Aries.” Her brows draw in together, creating small lines between them. “I know you’re here because you want to help the Casella brothers.”

I swallow, hoping she didn’t see that. “No—I…” I don’t get to finish when she cuts in.

“Don’t be that fucking stupid and blind to see that it’s not working,” her words are cutthroat, but maybe that’s what I need, to stop living in delusion that my act is working because it’s not. She points to the door. “They will fucking kill you and feed you to them for sport. This is not some game of chess, Aries. This is a war which has been going on for generations before us. Men, women, and children have died at the hands of these men because of a feud that started so many years ago.” I feel a clump growing in my throat.

“You didn’t answer my question.” I divert the conversation, not wanting to give anything away just yet, not until I know I can trust her. She looks to the floor then back up at me.

“Let’s just say you’re not the first to be in this position.” She lifts her long sleeve shirt, revealing multiple scars, some that are burns, some that are deep gashes. My heart immediately sinks, realising the torture and torment she must have gone through.

“Who are you to them?” I ask. “Did they do this to you?” I whisper, my voice now lowers in case anyone might be spying on us.

“You’re not asking the right questions.” She shakes her head as if she’s tired of the conversation. Grabbing my arm, she continues to dab the cotton on my wound. “You need to find a way out of here,” her eyes meet mine. “Before they kill you.”

Her hands slip into her back pocket, as she reveals a key, holding it up in front of me. “It’s the key to the basement door. The guards on the grounds swap shifts at midnight, which will give you the perfect opportunity to slip through when they switch with the cover of darkness.” I stare at her blankly, still shocked that she’s helping me.

“But won’t they know you helped me?” I ask, now worried about leaving her here.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself around them.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Take it.” She shakes the key in my face as I reach up and take it from her, shoving it into my back pocket. She wraps my wound in silence and begins packing up the contents of the box when she’s finished.

“When you reach the front gate, run and don’t fucking look back.” She heads for the stairs, and before I know it, she’s gone, leaving me with a sickening feeling growing heavier in my belly.

Silence fills the air as I stare at my laptop, my mind far from what I should be doing right now. It’s been twenty-four hours since the last contact from the traitor inside the Brayford house, and all I can think about is my wife sitting on the cold concrete floor of their filthy basement. Who knows how many people they have killed or tortured there. I push the thoughts from my mind and try to regain my focus on the spreadsheet in front of me. Failing miserably when I check my phone for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, only to see it blank, no text, no call, nothing. Growing impatient, I head outside and find Henry standing with his hands clasped in front of him. He tips his head to acknowledge my presence.

“Where’s Nico?” I ask just as my phone buzzes.

Speaking of the fucker.

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago,” I seethe into the phone.

“Relax, I’m leaving the warehouse now.” I hear shuffling in the background as he speaks.

“Just meet me there, it’ll take you too long in traffic to come here.” I hang up the phone, and just as I slip into my Porsche, I watch as Henry gets a call. His face contorts as he begins to walk around to me.

“Boss, you need to hear this.” He clenches his jaw as he hands me the phone.

“What the fuck is it now?”

“Uh…” Marco hesitates.

“Spit it out, Marco.”

“Sir, the distillery in Brixton has been raided.” He pauses, waiting for me to reply, but all I can see is red.

“Motherfucker!” Rage coils through me as I take in a deep breath, attempting to steady my mind and keep myself from doing something I will regret. I hang up the phone and hand it to Henry.

“Go to my mother’s place. I need you there in case shit gets fucked,” I speak, as I turn the engine of the Porsche on, the roar of the exhaust filling my ears as I slam the door shut.

---