Page 17 of Alliance

Junior shakes his head dismissively. “Enough,” he speaks. “You’re not killing this boy down here.”

“He’s my soldier,” Marcus retorts.

LaFontaine leans against the cinderblock wall, watching the altercation.

“You”—Junior jabs a finger in his direction—“I’ve told you before that this is not your business.”

The corners of LaFontaine’s lips rise into a sinister smirk. “Yeah, but Damien wants the merger I offered.” He shrugs his shoulders.

My stomach drops at his statement.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he spits back. “Sam, release the kid and make sure he doesn’t talk, hear me?”

The tan boots that cover Sam’s feet move toward me, and with every step, relief floods my body. Before he gets to me, Marcus steps in his path. “No,” he says, blocking Sam with an arm.

Sam chuckles, the sound is deep and throaty, scary as shit. “You don’t make the decisions,cugino.”

“This is my warehouse,” Marcus responds, a whine entangled with the words.

“Don’t care,” Junior says, his voice angry from repeating himself.

Sam pulls a slim knife from his pocket, slicing through the tape like butter. Blood rushes to all the numb areas of my body. I rub my raw wrists, bringing the circulation back to them. Sam helps me stand up and I let him, not wanting to shrug off help from someone higher than me. “I’m okay,” I choke out the words through the pain that radiates through my body. I don’t want to be weak, but I also don’t want to be inconsiderate.

He nods his head, letting go of me and watching as I limp off in pain.

I’m in bad shape. They mostly hit me, and my face took the bulk of the damage. Even so, my ankles are weak from where the tape bit into them and my thighs and stomach are sore. Tomorrow morning, my body will be covered in bruises, I’m sure.

Sam leads me outside. It’s still bright out, but I have no idea what time it is. We left my apartment early, but it feels like I’ve been in the warehouse for days.

I limp to the sleek black Audi that Sam unlocks. He opens the passenger door for me and I thank him, even though I feel embarrassed for needing the help.

My body sinks into the soft leather and I breathe a sigh of relief. I thought I was going to die in there, thought my final moments would be strapped to a chair getting the shit beat out of me.

My body shakes and I feel weak for it, desperate and pathetic.

“It’s okay,” Sam tells me as he slides into the driver’s seat. “You’re not weak for being shaken up. That’s the point.” He turns on the car with a press of a button and shifts into gear. “They want you to feel weak, want you to give up on life, that’s how they know you’ll comply.”

He pulls out onto the road and I’m thankful to have the warehouse drift away into the background.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Don’t mention it.” He taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he drives, letting the silence stretch between us.

Every nerve in my body is burning, the pain that drifts through me feels like the end. And yet, my family comes to the top of my mind. How the fuck am I going to support them without the money I make from Marcus. I feel a weight on my chest, crushing me again. I can’t go back to part-time jobs, to heavy labor. I groan out loud, the frustration washing over me.

Sam gives me a look. “You okay?”

“I can’t work for him, right?” I ask, even though I know the question is stupid.

Sam chuckles. “No. I don’t think you’d want to work for Marcus, anyway. Can I ask you something?”

I nod my head. The guy saved my life today, he can ask me anything.

“Why’d you do it? I’m assuming you did, right? Sleep with Lana, I mean. Why do it? I’ve had lots of pussy before and I’d never risk my life for it.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “It was stupid.”

“So, why then?” he presses.

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