Page 83 of Raziel
“I’ve got you, brother. I’ve got you,” he was saying, his voice the only solid thing in the spinning world. He ripped his own shirt, wadding it against my side. “Don’t you fucking die on me.”
He vaulted back into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life. “Stay with me, Raziel! That’s an order!”
I wanted to tell him he wasn’t the boss of me. I wanted to tell him to make sure Maya was okay. But the darkness was too heavy, too warm.
And the last thing I heard was the squeal of tires and Caine cursing the world.
Thirty Seven – Maya
Everything was wrong with the world. Raziel was still in the hospital, unconscious, and I was back at step one.
“It’s their fault I have to start over,” I whispered to the dark ceiling, tears of pure rage and frustration finally spilling over. Miyori was there in an instant, her arms around me, holding me together.
“I know, baby girl. I know. But you’re here. You’re fighting it. That’s what matters.”
Priest stood in the doorway, a shadow against the light from the hall. He had rushed back from Miami when he heard what happened. His silence was more terrifying than any outburst. It was the only thing that made me feel safe.
“Raziel should have handled the Vescovi problem permanently after the car incident,” he said, his voice a low gravel that promised violence. “There are only three types of women in this life, Maya. The ones who build you up, the ones who try to tear you down, and the ones you put in the ground if they can’t have you. Alessia is the third.”
I agreed. Alessia needed to be put down. She was evil. I could still hear her laughing in my head, giggling as she uncapped a syringe and slid it into my arm.
It happened two blocks from Miyori’s house. A van pulled up next to me as I waited at a red light on my bike. It was toofast to react. The doors slid open and three men jumped out, snatching me off the seat and pulling me into the dark interior.
They injected me. Again. And again. They laughed as I shook.
“I told you I’d ruin you,” Alessia said before the high hit. It was a blur after that. She was wearing white. All white. White jeans. White top. An angel of death dressed for brunch.
I shook the memory away, trying to focus on what Priest and my sister were talking about.
Miyori looked tired. She had watched me like a hawk since that night. I was drinking coffee, trying to ignore the way my nerves were shrieking, when my phone buzzed with an unknown number.
“Maya.” It was Raffaele Mercier’s voice, warm and grave. “We found them. I’m sending you the address.”
My heart sped up.
The text came through a second later. An address.
I showed it to Priest. His face didn’t change. He just nodded, went to his closet, and came back with two pistols. “Let’s go.”
Miyori’s eyes went wide. “What? No. Maya, you’re not in any state—”
“She needs to see this end,” Priest said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Don’t baby her.”
The ride was silent. We pulled up to a different warehouse. Raffaele was already there, standing beside a black car, his expression grim. He gave me a slow, somber nod.
Inside, under a single hanging bulb, were Alessia , her mother and her father, Enzio. They were on their knees, chained to a pipe, gagged. Their eyes were wide with a terror that felt like a balm on my raw nerves.
Two of Raffaele’s men stood silently in the shadows. They nodded at Priest and melted away, leaving us alone.
Alessia saw me and started to struggle, her muffled screams pathetic.
Priest handed me a gun. “Finish it, Maya.”
I walked up to her. The weight of the gun felt foreign and wrong. “You took my sobriety,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “You tried to take my man. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to want him. Because when I was nothing—strung out and half-dead—he saved me. He didn’t even know me, and he saved me. That makes him mine.”
I looked at Miyori. She never knew the whole story. No one did.
“I’m sorry.”
