Page 22 of Vicious Savage

“What’s gotten into you?” The Jekyll asks. “You couldn’t wait to ditch her, now you’re getting all defensive on me because we had a damn conversation?”

I turn away in disgust, although I don’t know if it’s out of anger at him or myself that I’m affected by them having their own little moment. I know what happened between Luna and me, but I never stopped to consider if anything happened between them. I rack my brain for any memory I have of leaving them alone together long enough for something to happen.

But no. There was never a time that I left them for more than ten or fifteen minutes. But then, a lot could happen in ten minutes.

“What really happened between you two?” I ask. I’m genuinely curious to know, but I wonder what it will do to me if he actually tells me that somethingdidhappen. My heart beats out of my chest as I watch him carefully for a reaction. Would I even know if he’s telling me half truths?

“I could ask you the same question, Attila,” he spits. “Because your anger outweighs the circumstances. And for the record, nothing happened between us.”

I watch as he gets up from his seat and heads toward the back of the plane, where he takes a seat with one of the mercenaries and buckles his seatbelt.

“This is not like you, Attila,” Dante points out, sitting back in his seat.

“I don’t like secrets, nor surprises.”

“I don’t believe he meant either. He considered the situation and took the necessary action required to remedy the situation.”

“The fact that we got into the car and drove for almost an hour, and neither brought up their conversation. That’s where I’m coming from. Why keep it from me?”

“What’s really going on here, Attila?” Dante asks. He’s not one to pry, and I know he’s just coming from a place of brotherly concern. But I don’t even know how to answer that. The Jekyll was right; my anger is not justified. He did what he thought best at the time, and for whatever reason, he kept it from me. It could be any one of a number of reasons, all of which I didn’t want to harp on.

When I don’t answer, Dante looks out the window momentarily, as though weighing his words, before turning back to me.

“You know. It’s okay not to have control all of the time,” he tells me. “I know you like to be in control of every situation. And that’s good… most of the time. But it’s okay to sometimes let go and let the chips fall where they may.”

“Like I said, I don’t like surprises.”

“But sometimes it’s the surprises that keep us going and give us something worth fighting for.”

23

LUNA

He takes me to the house inTulum. Back to the house of horrors. My body tenses and locks as soon as the car comes to a stop outside the soaring walls of the fortress. It’s near impenetrable, its sandstone walls towering high above the cliffs overlooking the Caribbean Sea. If not for the nightmares I had of this place, I’d otherwise describe it as idyllic. All things considered, it is anything but.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, my voice small and weak. I can’t take my eyes off the house that holds so many of my childhood memories. I turn my face to look at my father. I can’t interpret his expression as he stares straight through me, his eyes hard, devoid of all emotion.

“Not sure why you wouldn’t want to be back where it all started,” he says, his voice reaching me as though from far away. “This is the house you were born in.”

My face blanches as heat envelopes me, starting from my head and moving through my body. There’s no escaping the meaning of his words. I was born in this house, and I would probably die in this house.

“I don’t want to be here,” I tell him.

“That’s not up to you to decide,” he hisses. “You will do as you’re told.”

“Where are my brothers?” I ask, desperately grasping at something.Anythingthat could save me from the fate that awaits me. My father does not have good intentions when it comes to me.

“Shut up and get out of the car,” he orders, digging his gun into my side. I turn my face away from him, but not before I catch a glimpse of the driver watching in the rear view mirror, his eyes hard as he watches the interaction. It’s the same driver from before; the one who narrowly escaped my father’s bullet.

“I don’t want to be here,” I gasp, as I fling the door open and step out.

I start to run.

I run as fast as I can, heading for the cliff. There’s nowhere else to go, but if I have to throw myself off the cliff to my death, then that’s what I’ll do. But I won’t let him destroy me again. I run, and I don’t stop until a shot rings out, stopping me in my tracks. I skid to a halt when his voice rings out and turn to face him, my arms raised in surrender.

“Take one more stepperra, and I will not hesitate to put a bullet in your back and feed you to the hyenas. I will deprive you even of a burial. Then I will do the same to your beloved brothers.”

“You vile, evil man,” I spit out.

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