Page 30 of Severed Rivalry
This is my end. A flimsy, cold chair on a concrete floor. Outrunning one person would be tricky. A handful, all armed, in a room with only partial sheetrock is Russian roulette with a fully loaded chamber.
9
self-destruct as a unit
Cian
I sigh and move forward, accepting my fate.
As if I have another choice.
Or until I have another choice. If I’m smart enough to get out of this, I… Who knows?
“Sit.” I have no time to wonder if he means me when the cold metal bites into my ribs. The Laotian man is making no effort not to leave a mark and uses the nose of the gun to push me toward the chair to my left.
Walking slowly, I take in everything I can, which doesn’t amount to much.
I must be crazy because my gaze sticks on the wiring hanging from the ceiling where the walls haven’t been drywalled. The work looks messy and I’m disappointed in the quality and effort. It’s amazing what the mind fixates on in these kinds of moments.
Dad’s phone rings and most of the men in the room swing their weapons in his direction. One trigger-happy dude could have ended this whole thing. Even knowing all eyes and all barrels are trained on him, he has the gall—or the stupidity—to answer it.
“Yes.”
He pauses as the man who met us outside—whose name I can’t for the life of me remember—walks calmly and plucks it from his hand and presses the red button, pocketing the device.
He places the muzzle of his gun squarely between Dad’s eyes and pushes, saying, “Bang” as he cocks his head.
My father makes no attempt to protect his daughter or me from this trap he called us to. He ensnared himself and then failed to protect either of us from being captured in the same way.
In one moment, my disdain for the man washes over me like a flood of hot water.
The whipping of the pistol aside, only to land the butt against Dad’s temple, is the sole sound in the room aside from the melodic murmurs in a language I neither speak nor understand.
Dad doubles over as he grasps his eye with both hands. Then the fucker starts yelling. He screams at the man who hit him, gesticulating wildly. He flails his arms around as if he’s in complete control in this situation, and the masked men are there to serve him.
I slide my chair as far away as I can as silently as I’m able. This isn’t going to end well.
My movements do not go unnoticed, and I’m quickly flanked by one of the crew who yanks my hands behind me and pulls a zip tie so tight the flesh on my wrists will rip if I struggle.
An entire conversation is played out above my head in what I can only assume is Laotian as the men we leased this building to were of that nationality.
I take the punches they inflict. The ones to my temple. The ones to my jaw.
I lose at least one tooth before the first time I black out.
When I come to, it’s worse.
Way fucking worse.
My sister, who doesn’t have the capacity forway fucking worseright now, is in the mix. Her back is to me. Her softs sobs are enough to break my heart. I know her strength. The woman is incredible, tough, and takes no shit. But something has rattled her.
She says “No” over and over on repeat while shaking her head. “I won’t do it.”
“Oh, but you will. Or I’ll kill your brother.”
My head is a heavy weight on my neck when I roll it to twist my face her way. Her spine stiffens, and she grows taller.
As if this nightmare couldn’t get worse, my brother-in-law runs from the shadows hell-bent on saving her. “Princess?”
