Page 15 of Shades of Silver City

“So I’m told.”

It’s a shame all the space in my ma’s old building is going to waste, but like Godric said, I can’t convince anyone to come with me.

When Godric finishes his rounds, we say our goodbyes and head back toward the inner city.

Two blocks away, a desperate, high-pitched scream rings out.

“Help!” the voice calls. “Please, someone, help me!”

“This fucking city,” Godric mutters.

We share a look, then break out into a sprint. As we run toward the cries, I pull my leather gloves out of my back pocket and slide them on.

Just in case.

I’m not a fan of getting my hands dirty, in the literal sense.

Farther down the street, the buildings give way to a mostly empty lot. A few makeshift shelters line the fence, and a couple of people mill about. The nearest streetlight buzzes loudly as its fluorescent hue flickers.

“Help!” the voice cries again, hoarser this time.

Godric smacks my shoulder. “There.”

My eyes adjust, and I catch sight of someone pinning a woman down on a piece of plywood. She struggles against the attacker. He crushes her thin body beneath his, his jeans pulled halfway down. None of the nearby people move to help her.

A roaring in my head silences everything else around me, and spots of red color my vision.

In four strides, I reach the man, gripping him by the shirt and ripping him off the woman with a growl.

“Hey—”

I slam the toe of my boot into his ribs, then quickly press the heel into his throat, precariously close to crushing his windpipe.

Before we can check on the woman, she’s up and bolting, sobbing as she flees.

“Let her go,” I tell Godric through clenched teeth, locking my eyes on the pale loser beneath my boot. As much as I want to ensure she’s okay, two notorious gangsters chasing after her in the night might only traumatize her further.

The assailant coughs and sputters beneath me, eyes wide with shock as he flails around, desperately trying to pry my boot off him. His manhood hangs out, making it clear what he was attempting to do a moment ago.

My body trembles with rage, and it takes every fiber of my control not to reach for my gun and end his despicable life.

This isn’t how it should be.

“Arch,” Godric whispers. “You can’t take him out like this. You can’t help Sofia if you’re locked up.”

It’s too late to help Sofia.

Just like it’s too late to help my ma.

I press my boot down a little harder, and the man’s face begins to turn purple, his movements slowing.

“Archer.” Godric’s strong hand lands on my shoulder, and it’s enough to ground me.

I can’t do it.

Lifting my boot from the man’s neck, I glower at him as he scrambles to sit up. Then I kick him, forcing him back down. His skull smashes into the uneven concrete, and he cries out in pain.

With a frustrated grunt, I step away from the man, letting Godric do his thing.

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