Page 23 of Unsettled
“They think they can mess with the police? That kidnapping important members of the force, and burning people’s houses down, will get them to back off? No, they just signed their fucking death warrants.”
“How do you know it wasn’t my Family?” I ask…in Spanish.
The asshole whirls on me. “Do you think this is a joke?” He steps away from Allesandro, and my friend gives me a nod in thanks. Not that he needed my help, but with only the two of us here, we have to take care of one another.
“Honestly?” I answer in English. “Yes. You sure as hell haven’t been entertaining, so I have to amuse myself. At least play some music.”
He yanks me up, much like he did Allesandro. He holds a knife to my throat, which is a bit of an escalation. Aside from taking our fingers, beating and starving us, and holding the occasional gun to our heads, there hasn’t been much of a threat from him or his men. It's more the mere annoyance that they’ve managed to hold us for this long.
“I can slit your throat right here and now, and dump your body where they will never find it.”
“Do it,” I taunt him, switching to French this time. It’s one of my least used languages, so stretching that muscle feels good. “Kill me, or are you a fucking coward?”
The knife digs into my throat, and the sting tells me he probably drew blood. “You think you’re clever?”
“Cristian’s right,” Allesandro says. “As…lovely as these accommodations are, it’s quite boring. Though, it appears my Chaos has been having fun, if what you’ve said is even true.”
When the asshole whirls around again, he scratches his knife against my skin. It's not deep enough to kill me, but when I raise my hand to my throat, my fingers come away with blood smeared on them.
“There will be consequences for this!” the asshole hisses. He gestures with his knife. “You’ve been held above the law for too long! Soon, your reign will end, and we will finally be able to live in peace, rather than fearing for our lives every time we do something as simple as take our children to school.”
I narrow my eyes at his back, wondering if he realizes how much he’s given us with this impassioned rant of his. Did he learn all his moves from watching bad action films? The monologuing never ends well for the bad guy.
“Funny,” I say. “I don’t remember ever recruiting from schools, or allowing my men to deal near them. I might be into…less than lawful things, but I have morals. If I won’t allow my son to do it, why would I let anyone else’s kid? We lead by example around here.”
Allesandro laughs, and the asshole turns back to me.
“I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he growls.
I smirk at him. “Sorry, I’m married, and you’re not my type.” I look him up and down, taking in his messy appearance. I tsk. “At least have enough self-respect to get a well-tailored suit.”
He steps closer, pressing the knife against my side this time. “Say one more thing. I fucking dare you.”
Meeting his wide brown eyes, I sag against the wall, relaxing my body and making him think I’m giving in. As soon as the knife isn’t pressed so firmly against me, I say, in French once more, “One more thing.”
The piercing pain from being stabbed is fucking worth it.
I just hope his knife was clean…
Itap on the door to the office Roman gave Lio, and try to wait patiently. In the past, I would have just walked in, but now that we’re in this weird place…fuck. How did we let it go this far? We’re supposed to be best friends.
“Enter.” My friend’s voice is scratchy, like he hasn’t slept at all, and shame fills me. I slowly walk in, and when he glances up from his paperwork, he straightens completely, eyeing me warily. My heart hurts seeing that reaction, and I hesitate to move forward. Sighing, Emilio asks, “What can I do for you, Benjamin?”
Gathering my courage, I keep walking and sit down in front of him. For just a moment, I stare at him, taking him in completely. The stress marring his face, his hair that's sticking out every-fucking-where, like he hasn’t bothered combing it, orhe’s run his hands through it so many times, it’s lost control, and the sleep deprivation clear in his eyes.Fuck. I could kick myself.
Shaking my head, I lean toward him, reaching my hand across the desk. He holds his out shakily and I grab it, squeezing hard. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Lio closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, I watch a tear slip down his cheek, and it undoes me completely. I let go of his hand, stand up, and rush over to him. I practically tackle him, and for once, he doesn’t argue against the hug. Instead, he leans into it. For a moment, we stay in that position, both of us struggling to breathe.
The feeling of rightness slips over me. It’s as if I was missing part of my soul and didn’t realize it. My friendship with Lio has always been grounding—I kidnapped him as a friend for a reason—but until we parted ways, I don’t think I realized just how much I needed him. I sigh and snuggle further into my friend’s arms.
“You’re cutting off my circulation,” Lio grumbles.
I snort, because I figured that was as long as I’d get from him. Straightening up, I touch his cheek before I slip over to the other side of the desk, sitting down once again.
The silence this time isn’t strained. It’s not yet as comfortable as we’ve had in the past, but it’s no longer as if we’re waiting on a match to ignite the rest of our friendship and burn it down. “You need more rest.”
I try to make it sound neutral, and fail. Thankfully, he merely rolls his eyes. “Yes, well, I’ve been a little stressed. And Hollis’s methods can only work to a certain degree.”
