Page 10 of Revenge

“Charlee.” His gaze softens when he sees the hurt behind my eyes. “Don’t go,Mija. Not like this.”

“See you next week,Papá.” Ignoring his pleas, I kiss his cheek and walk out with my head held high, but not before I see the cold smirk Marco gives me. It causes tingles of fear to ripple up my spine and I regret not telling my father about him.

Someday I’ll be free of this life. Someday.

Chapter Five

Asher

It’s taken me a couple of days to come up with a solid plan, but once Axel told me he made arrangements to meet the girls at Orphic, things all fell into place. I still needed more information to go on if I was going to get that slimy fucker Benny to talk, though. Hitting one dead end after another, I finally caved and called the one person I knew who could help me get exactly what I needed. Now, I’m parked at a curb in downtown Atlanta in the dark, waiting.

“I’m freezing my balls off, man. You could have at least stolen a van with a working heater,” Zane complains from the seat next to me for what feels like the millionth time. He’s dressed much like I am, all in black from head to toe. We’re both wearing jackets, but I guess it’s not enough for him. Even with a beanie on his head, he’s still bitching. His complaint isn’t without merit. It is unusually cold for Georgia this time of year, but my body must be too amped up on adrenaline to feel it.

“It’s the best I could do on short notice.” I shrug, never taking my eyes off the dark alley across the street. “Don’t be such a little bitch. You’ll be fine.” If he thinks this is roughing it, there’s no chance in hell he’d ever survive being in the cage.

“So, who is this guy we’re supposed to be meeting?” He cups his hands to his mouth and blows into them for warmth as he makes idle conversation to distract himself from the fact he may lose a nut or two in this cold.

“Carl.” My fingers trace along the worn leather of the steering wheel as I fight the onslaught of flashbacks that are pushing forward. “He was my cellmate. He’s the reason I survived inside. The shit they do to cops in there…” The words die on my tongue. I can’t tell him the horrors I witnessed. It’s unfair to burden him with my demons. The things I saw inside are worse than any imagination can conjure up and that’s not something I ever want to saddle him with.

Zane goes quiet at my confession and I have to look to make sure he’s still with me. What I see cuts me deep. He’s staring out the cracked windshield, lost in his own head. “It should have been us who had your back out here and in there. We’re family. We hunt together. We die together. Like a motherfucking pack.”

“No. It was better this way. I didn’t want either of you seeing me like that.” It was hard enough having my brothers in blue looking at me like I was a piece of shit. Having to look at my own flesh and blood through the glass would have pushed me even farther into the bottomless pit of hell—one that I wouldn’t have been able to come back from.

He gives me a disapproving grunt in response, and I let it roll off my back. He’ll be pissed about it for a while no matter what I say, which is fine with me because I stand by my decision. It was the right one and if I had to do it all over again, I’d make the same choice every single time. Them over me.

Silence stifles us as my words linger in the stale air of the van. He won’t ever understand my reasons no matter how much I tell him it was for the best. And that’s something I can live with.

A figure moves out from the shadows of the alley and my hands itch with anticipation. I know who it is before he even makes it under the street light. I’d recognize that limp anywhere.

“I’ll be right back.” I climb out of the van and slam the door closed. I pull my jacket tighter against me as I look both ways and jog across the street toward Carl. The second I’m close enough he reaches his hand out and smacks me on the back in a one-armed hug. I fight the urge to tense up. We may have spent years in the same cell together, but touch is still an issue I’m working on.

“Hey, man.” When he releases me, he takes a brief second to take in my appearance and I know what he’s looking for, but I’m not a statistic. I will never be one again. Still, his dark eyes never miss a detail. “You look like shit.”

“Long time no see.” I ignore the dig at my appearance because he’s not wrong. Between the late nights I’ve spent going over files, planning the shit with Charlee, and the fucking nightmares, sleep has eluded me.

“Fucker.” He laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. “I’ve missed your ass. It’s only been what, a couple of years?” He seems so different now, almost happy. It’s a huge contrast to the guy I shared a cell with. Smiling is something he never did inside. Then again, there was never a reason to.

“Freedom looks good on you, too.” I light a cigarette and let the nicotine distract me from the cold that’s begun to settle into my bones.

Except for some new ink along the dark skin of his neck, he looks the same as when I saw him last. The only difference is that his hair is now down in shoulder-length dreads.

“It feels good, man. Wish I could say the same for you.” He scratches the side of his face and watches me closer.

“Those are new.” My hand motions toward his hair.

“Gotta give the bitches something to grab onto. Know what I’m sayin’?” He tugs on the end of one of his dreads with a laugh, and I shake my head. Typical Carl.

I let out an exhale of smoke and ask, “What do ya got for me?”

He hands me a small syringe and then pulls a manilla envelope out from the inside of his black sweatshirt. “This is all I could find without drawing too much attention.”

I shove the syringe in my jacket pocket before clutching the envelope in my hand like it’s a lifeline; in a way it is. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it.” He jerks his chin in my direction.

“Right.”

“No, seriously.” All humor leaves his face. “Don’t. I don’t know how deep this shit goes and the last thing I need is for it to come back on me.”

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