Page 52 of Alliance

Sam’s eyes lift to mine, and there’s a look on his face, something I can’t quite place. I think he’s measuring me up, wondering if he should really tell me.

“Hold on,” he says, and he opens his desk drawer. He pulls out a stack of cards, plopping them down on the walnut surface, next a knife, and finally a lighter. “You want this?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine, holding my gaze as if he can tell by just the look in my eyes if I’m lying.

“Yes,” the words leave me in a hushed whisper.

This is what I want. What I’ve been working for.

“One more question,” Sam asks, spinning the lighter between his fingers. “Are you doing this for you orher?”

I only think about his question for a moment. Is this for me or Lana? “Why can it be both?” I tell him.

A sly grin lifts the corner of his lips. “It can. Pick a saint, Naz.” He pushes the cards toward me and when I flip the stack over in my palm, the first one to look at me is St. Jude. His pale face stares up at me, green fabric draped over his shoulder and a staff rests in his palm.

I pick his card up, holding eye contact with the picture of the saint that has guided me from childhood.

Even if I claimed that I didn't believe in religion, even having never prayed to God, I have always prayed to Saint Jude, rubbing my fingers over the gold metal.

The patron saint of lost causes.

It’s fitting really that he would be the saint I take from this deck, that he would be the one to usher me into this position even when I stand here without the medal wrapped around my throat.

I set the rest of the cards down, showing Sam that I’ve made my pick.

“Saint Jude.” He smiles. “Sounds about right.” Sam lifts the knife from his desk, shifting the blade in his hand before he looks back to me. “We’re doing this without the fanfare. It’s normally a bigger deal.”

I’ve heard through whispers about the initiation. Normally they drag you to a building with a hood over your head, spouting off about loyalty and family while holding you at gunpoint, or at least that’s what the rumors say.

Sam gestures for me to give him my hand and I do. He uses the knife to slice a line through my palm, letting red blood pool in the wound. Next, he hands me the lighter. “Burn the card in your hand.”

I flick the lighter on and bring the flame to the St. Jude card, watching as the flame grabs onto the paper, trickling over the ink and the face of my chosen saint. “Repeat after me,” Sam says. “If I betray my friends or family, I and my soul will burn in hell like this saint.”

I repeat the words, my oath to this family, to this organization that’s built me. This is what I’ve been working for, this is what I’ve wanted.

But as the flames reach my fingertips and the fire burns my flesh, I don’t feel like I have succeeded. I still feel like I’m playing with fire, and when you play with fire you’ll always get burned. I drop the burning card into the bowl Sam gives me. We both watch as the card burns out, leaving a pile of ash in the stone bowl.

“You’re a part of this now,” Sam says, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a brother, a made man. You work for me, understood?”

I nod my head and Sam drops his hand from my shoulder, wiping his palms down his dress pants before he moves back to his desk.

“Just one little task force that needs to be disassembled and money will be flowing into their pockets,” he says.

“What are you talking about?”

Sam gestures for me to sit down across from him, so I do. He sighs heavily as he tells me.

“Davis has an in with the mayor, and my uncle has a new money maker he’s trying to implement. The problem is, this task force keeps catching his men, keeps stopping him before he can get the product into the States.”

“What product?” I ask.

Sam looks away and I realize he doesn’t want to answer me, even with the burning flesh on my fingertips, there are still things he doesn’t want to tell me.

“So what?” I ask. “They want Lana to marry Davis so he disassembles a task force?”

Sam nods, leaning forward with his elbows on his desk. “There’s a lot of money at stake here and money makes people do crazy things.”

“He gets a cut?” I ask.

“Yep. He gets a cut, and the marriage solidifies everyone’s loyalty. As long as Davis is married to her, he’ll be considered family. That’s what they want, an unbreakable alliance that will fill their pockets and keep the business running.”

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