Page 68 of Brando

“You need a doctor,” I tell him.

Scar shakes his head, trying to sit up but wincing in pain. “Call Allegra,” he whispers. “She’ll know who to call.”

I press my hand over the wound to slow the bleeding, doing my best to keep him still. “Stay here,” I order, my voice firm.

He’s out again just as the Enforcer reaches us, and I stand and back away. If he wants me to call Allegra, that means we’re in bigger trouble than we expected.

I clench my jaw, the fear gnawing at the back of my mind. I can’t leave him, not like this. But Scar is right. We need help. I don’t know where all the men are, and I don’t stop to survey the carnage around me as I move back towards the ancient warehouse that once doubled as office space for short term leases. I know there’s a phone in there, even though it probably hasn’t been used in years. I’m not sure how much time I have left before more men show up, but I can’t afford to waste any more. I know that if I don’t move now, I might not get another chance. I back away slowly, keeping my eyes on Scar, then turn and sprint toward the deeper end of the docks, where the warehouse stands.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder. Every shadow is a potential threat as I move fast, weaving through the maze of containers, staying as low as possible until I reach the warehouse. I slide through the door quietly, stopping in my tracks at the sound of voices deep inside the cavernous warehouse. I inch closer, hiding out of sight as I listen.

Then I hear him.

Frank.

“You’ve made this personal, Brando,” Frank says, his voice thick with malice.

“The dead man walking speaks.”

Brando’s voice is unmistakable. There isn’t a trace of fear in it, but in my mind, knowing him the way I know him, I can hear that he’s calculating the situation.

“You know the problem with you, Brando? You never learn,” Frank says. I hear the cocking of a gun, and I don’t hesitate. I spring out from my hiding spot, gun raised, my heart thundering in my chest. This time, I’ll be the one to end it.

I stumble into view,my heart pounding in my chest. Frank leans against a rusted pillar, his arm wrapped tightly around Sophia, a glint of madness in his eyes. The cold steel of a gun presses against my sister's temple, and I feel a chill run down my spine. My sister’s eyes don’t move as she looks my way, as though seeing through me.

She’s always had the same blonde hair as mine, and I’ve always thought her more beautiful. More put together. Everything about her has always been perfect. Whereas I just was. But now her hair is a dull straw color, hanging in limp clumps down her back. Her skin is a sallow hue, pale and bland, her face having lost all the color of youth. In a few short weeks, my sister has aged beyond her years, and I think I could kill Frank with my own bare hands for the damage he’s caused her.

“Sophia.” I breathe her name, but my sister doesn’t even flinch.

“Welcome, Mia,” Frank sneers, his voice dripping with malice. “I knew you couldn’t resist the temptation to see your precious sisters one last time. Drop the gun.”

Sophia’s eyes are wide, flat saucers of terror as she’s held in Frank’s firm death grip. My breath catches in my throat; I can see the fear etched into my sister’s features, the way her body shakes against the man who has hijacked our lives. I engage the safety and drop the gun to the ground, then kick to with my foot toward him.

“Let her go, Frank!” My shout echoes through the empty warehouse as I step forward, my fists clenched tight at my sides.

Frank chuckles darkly, the sound echoing off the walls. “And why would I do that, Mia?” He tightens his grip on Sophia, the gun digging into her skin. “I want you tofeelwhat it’s like to be helpless. I want you to feel the weight of her life in your hands. To know what’s coming unless you do as I say.”

My heart races as I take in the scene—the desperation in Sophia’s eyes and the smug satisfaction radiating from Frank. I have always known he is a monster, but seeing him like this, as close to insanity as one can possibly get, ignites a fury within me.

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice quivering with both fear and resolve.

“Mia don’t…” Brando steps forward, and Frank ushers him back by pointing the gun in his direction.

“One of us is going to die today. And I have no intention of that being me,” he hisses. In those few words, he tells me everything I need to know. Frank has undoubtedly gone over the edge and plunged himself into madness. “Behave and I’ll let you live until the after party.”

“You don’t have to do this, Frank.” I struggle even to say his name. The vile, vicious reptile holds my sister captive. He holds my love captive. And what of my other sister? Where is Maxine?

His lips curl into a sinister smile. “You never should have left me, Mia. I was always the better choice for you.”

“You ruined me,” I remind him, as a cold front sweeps across my heart. When I think of all the pain he’s caused me and others, I go numb with the urge to destroy him as he destroyed me.

“Semantics,” he scoffs. “Come a little closer, Mia. Come stand beside me.”

“Mia…” Brando’s voice is a warning growl and I’m cut between wanting to listen to him and wanting to save my sister. Although I know, I know with everything inside me that he willnever let her go. That’s not who Frank Falcone is. He doesn’t have a merciful bone in his body.

“Come here, Mia, or you’re going to suffer for the rest of your life carrying the mental image of your sister’s brains splattered on this floor.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” I gasp, although my words sound like a lie even to my own ears.

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