Page 37 of Unfulfilled Promises
John.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get upstairs. The other one is supposed to be leaving, and if there’s only one of them to deal with, we may be able to take care of him.”
“T-t-take c-c-care of him?” Wren stuttered as her eyes grew wide.
Taking both her hands into mine, I suddenly realized she was probably innocent of all the bullshit her last name was attached to. I needed to be blunt with her, though I hated to shatter whatever innocence she may have still had.
“If we don’t fight, they’re going to hurt us. But together, we’re strong enough to take one of them and hopefully escape before the other returns. I know you’re scared, but I need you to be braver than you ever imagined you could be.” She began to shake her head, and I grasped her shoulders, stopping her and refocusing her back on me. “I can fight pretty well. My brothers taught me, and if I can keep him distracted, you can find something to hit him over the head with, or maybe we’ll get lucky and can get his gun or a knife.”
“I can’t stab someone—” she started to say, but I spoke over her.
“Wren, I don’t know exactly what they want from us, but a few years ago, I lived through something pretty horrible. And I grew stronger from surviving. I need you to find that part of you, deep down inside, that refuses to go gently, and I need you to bring her to the front. The only people who are going to save us, is us.”
“What about the police? If we kill someone, we’ll get into trouble.”
That statement told me she wasn’t connected to the ugly side of her biological family. The Syndicate didn’t fear law enforcement. Standing her up, I looked her in the eyes as I explained.
“When they drove me here, I recognized where we are, or at least I think I did. So, all we need to do is get out of this house and make it to safety. If we have to hurt them, the police won’t arrest us because we’re defending ourselves. And if we can get to my brothers, they can make it all go away.”
“How?” she asked, and I shook my head.
“I promise, I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but right now, we need to get ready for the fight of our lives. And I want you to promise me something.” She looked confused, so I said, “If I can’t get away and you can, I want you to run straightout the main road until you see a huge fence with a sign on the front. There will be men with leather vests that say ‘Death Hounds MC’, and I want you to tell them to get the madman. Can you remember that?”
“The madman?”
The sound of the lock on the door echoed into the room, so I quickly snatched the string, turning the light off as I pulled Wren farther into the dark. Whispering as softly as possible, I asked, “Do you remember everything I said?”
“Main road, Death Hounds, madman,” she whispered back just as softly, and I gave her a quick hug before stepping out in front of her.
John was standing at the top of the stairs as I entered into the light shining down. He leaned against the doorway and pushed up when he saw us. “You’ll come upstairs for bathroom and food. If you cause me any problems, I’ll toss you down the stairs by your ankles and you can starve until he gets back tomorrow. I’m not in the mood, so don’t fucking push me.”
I nodded and reached back to offer Wren my hand. She took it, and together, we walked up the stairs. John had a stupid look on his face as I got to the top step, and when he saw the connection between us, he shook his head.
“Follow me.”
I glanced back at Wren, and she exhaled and gave a subtle nod as we stepped out of the basement and into the hallway of the house. Looking around, I didn’t see Giovanni, and that’s when I was able to relax some. John skills or desire to inflict pain was unknown, but the scars from Giovanni’s torture crisscrossed my body, reminding me every day of his sadism.
I didn’t want Wren to experience that. We followed John into the kitchen, then he looked back and forth between us as we silently waited for his instructions. “You,” he tipped his chin to Wren, “go do your business and come straight back while shemakes your dinner.” Wren went to turn, and he reminded her, “Remember the rules.”
She glanced at him and nodded silently before turning and walking to the bathroom. Leaving the door open, she sat down as I tried to focus John’s attention on me. “What am I making for dinner?”
John snapped his gaze to me and pointed to the fridge. “Sandwich stuff is in the fridge.”
He went to look at Wren on the toilet, and I asked, “Would you like anything?”
John turned back to me and nodded. “Make me one.” He walked to the dining room table and collapsed into a chair with his legs spread and his forearms resting on the table. He looked like he was trying to play tough, and it was difficult to not let my sassy attitude show, but I needed to get him off-guard so I could figure out how to get out of here without him.
“Giovanni is gone?” I inquired as Wren returned to the kitchen.
I handed her a sandwich and lifted my chin to John, telling her to give that one to him. She did and returned to grab hers while I finished mine and returned the items to the fridge. She waited for me, and I looked into her eyes before we walked to the table and sat down with John. The silence was deafening as the three of us ate and the only sounds were from some dogs barking a few blocks away and faint music coming from a party somewhere.
Finishing half my sandwich, I looked at John and asked, “May I?”
He glanced at the bathroom and made a noise before grunting, “Yeah,” at me. I stood, and he muttered, “Leave the door open.”
“I . . . I have to . . .” I made my eyes wide and looked at him. He was a dumb fucker, so I finally said, “I have to poop.”
“Ugh, close the door.”
