Page 57 of KAI Tortured

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” I warn him. He’s a dead man. He knows that. We know that. What we don’t know is if he’s stupid enough to fire his gun.

Tall, lanky, in scruffy-looking jeans and a red shirt, he has one gun pointing unwaveringly at Maisy and Rosey, and the other aimed at us.

“What are you waiting for? Are you stupid or something?” Rosey snaps. She clearly doesn’t understand what it means to have a gun pointed at her. Or she’s had it happen too many times and she’s numb to it.

I’m gripping my gun, my finger twitching on the trigger, and my eyes lock with the scarface’s. The standoff feels like a chess match with human pawns, where every slight movement is a precursor to checkmate.

Then, in a split second, I see it: the dark resolve in his eyes. He’s made his decision. He’s going for Maisy, and the hell am I gonna let him get away with that.

His finger squeezes the trigger and a single shot rings out, echoing off the walls.

Immediately, as if rehearsed, we react in a unified surge of fury and vengeance. Before we can see who got shot, we empty our rounds into his body. He topples backward, both guns slipping from his grasp as the life bleeds out of him.

My eyes shoot to Maisy and relief washes over me. The scarface made the right decision. Maisy’s alive, and the scream filling the air is hers as she falls to her knees beside Rosey, who’s collapsed to the floor, blood pouring out of her mouth.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the scene before my eyes was tragic. Maisy cradles Rosey’s head in her lap, her hands trembling as she attempts to staunch the flow of blood spreading across her sister’s chest.

MAISY

“No! No! Rosey, wake up!” I can do nothing to stop the blood oozing from the gunshot wound. “Someone do something!”

Rosey manages to crack a half-smile. “Maisy…”

“I’m so sorry, Rosey, I’m so sorry I didn’t save you. I’m sorry…” I whisper through my tears, my voice choked with a grief I didn’t know I could ever possibly feel. “Please don’t leave me.”

Rosey’s hand reaches up, a weak gesture, to touch my cheek. “It’s not… your fault,” she manages, her words a labored whisper.

Her hand falls away, her strength ebbing as I pull her closer, my sobs growing louder, more desperate. “Don’t leave me here alone,” I plead. The heartbreak is crushing me, tearing me in half. I clutch onto my sister, my twin. I never want to let her go. She is part of my life, we shared a womb; we shared everything until Milan came into our lives and tore us apart. And even then I searched for her. I did everything to find her, but it was too late.

Rosey’s breaths grow shallower. “Take care of… my children.”

“I will, I promise.” The sound of my weeping fills the air as I lie down next to my sister.

“They’ll want to meet your baby,” she gasps, barely audibly.

“M-My baby?”

Rosey gives me one last heart-wrenching, knowing smile, and the light completely fades from her eyes, leaving behind a silence too profound to bear and a reality too difficult to comprehend.

“No! No, Rosey! Rosey!” I cling to her and shake her, but someone’s arms are pulling me from her. Whoever it is, they’re stronger than me, and I sob as I’m forcefully taken away.

“Maisy, come on, you gotta go before the cops get here.” It’s Orion holding me. “Emilio will drive you home while we search for the gun.”

“Logan?” comes Kai’s hushed voice.

“Maybe she’s been sick for a different reason,” Logan replies equally quietly as he strokes my back.

CHAPTER 16

ORION

“Good afternoon, everyone! We called you here today for a few reasons. One, you may already know.” I pause and glance at Logan and Kai, who are sitting on either side of me. A full glass of whiskey rests in front of each of us. Kai’s face shows conviction and thoughtfulness. Logan’s mouth is set in a firm, straight line.

The three of us exude authority. Logan is in a beige three-piece suit, as am I, except mine is my trademark black, and Kai is in his element in his leather gear. Nothing has changed. We are who we are. Except, our front from now on will be a united one.

We’re at the Delgados’ bar, a place we chose because it’s free of wiretaps and there’s no surveillance within, except theirs, of course. Basically, it’s clean from any eavesdropping. Plus, it’s actually big enough for all of our families to gather. There’s still pressure from the police about the Slav massacre, but to the world, this is a bar and we’re drinking. And right now, the whole bar is silent, waiting on me to speak.

And speak, I do. “The Slav syndicate has been destroyed!”

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