Page 53 of Slaughtered Firefly
“Cole speaks highly of you here, I am grateful you have kept him out of too much trouble,” Reyna spoke after a few minutes. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded as I thought of the right words.
“He’s saved me more times than I can count, it was only right,” the truth bled out of me around this woman. I couldn’t understand why, but I didn’t mind; something told me this woman would take my secrets to her grave.
“I may not know the circumstances of why Cole brought you here, but for the sake of Gabby don’t kill him.” She had a sad, knowing smile on her face.
“I – ” I began just as Cole came back through the kitchen.
“Ready to go?” he asked, and I nodded. Together, Cole and I walked for a good bit in silence. It wasn’t awkward, but an understanding one. When we got to the back fence, we opened the gate and kept walking. Just when I was going to ask where we were going, he paused and looked at me. “The tracks should be far enough away if you do decide to kill me,” he sighed, and we kept walking.
Thoughts raced across my brain in quick succession, and the feeling of dread planted itself like a root in the pit of my now fullstomach. As if gearing up for a shit time, my stomach made a groggy sound, and I hurled into a nearby bush.
“Fuck that tastes like shit coming up,” a sour expression on my face as I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. Cole just scrunched his nose in distaste and continued walking. “Didn’t know you had siblings,” I commented, just trying to keep the rest of the meal down.
“I don’t, my mother died when I was five and my father never remarried. Reyna is the mother I never had,” a bitter smile crossed his face.
“Who are – ?” I paused, searching for the right words. Like Cole, I did not grow up with siblings, and yet there wasn’t a right way to ask.
“Reyna runs a daycare service when she’s not cleaning houses, it’s honest work. She is not a part of our world and if you make her a part of it you will find yourself buried in an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere,” Cole asserted, and I nodded.
A few minutes later he sat on the edge of the tracks, his hand outstretched with a small pocket knife.
“Did you know?” was all I could muster after the rage, sadness and denial had run rampant in my brain.
32
KNOWLEDGE IS A CURSE
Present Day—August 9th
“Did you know?” Scott’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Did you fucking know?” He shouted when I didn’t look up or respond.
Of course I knew way more than I said; it’s how I survived, but I did not have the context behind his distraught demeanor. The obvious was that Scott still didn’t know about Gabriella or he would have recognized her at the table. I swear Reyna is a goddess with the way she painted Gabby’s face in a matter of minutes. The woman is a lifesaver. I have no doubt that if he saw her face clean, he would know instantly.
I raised the knife in my palm higher as I asked, “What I know is not always mine to tell, so could you be a bit more specific?”
“Did you know that asshole had her raped? That he –” the outrage in Scott’s voice made me flinch.
Guilt overwhelmed me as the pieces fell into place. How could I not know? It was my fault for not being man enough to stop it when I found out. I still never knew the conditions of how I became Midas’ property. His protégée, as he referred, but I knew it was a fancy term for slave. I looked up at him at that moment, and my face must have revealed the truth. Scott stumbled back, tripping on a rock and falling on his ass.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t she say anything?” His eyes looked as panicked as his voice sounded, but his muscles tensed. I knew what Scott was thinking before he did, and I held the knife out in front of me, the handle towards him, and he took it in anger. I knew there would be a very slim chance I’d make it back from these deserted train tracks alive. “How could you?” He formulated the sentence, and a broken sob escaped him.
How do I explain the scope of the shit life we both were born into? How do you tell someone your father is a rapist? The great Senator Jeffery Matthews was an evil son of a bitch. I hated being associated with him. The self-hatred of being related to —being the blood of that abomination I couldn’t. So I presented that knife, hoping that he would give me what I deserved for failing our lover. Standing on the outskirts, watching her innocence taken. “You have to understand,” I quickly announced, trying desperately to remember why I couldn’t have stopped it. How much I’d beg, take me instead. “Summer – I mean Mia never wanted you to know,” the words tumbled out of my mouth faster than my brain could correct them.
Fuck.
“What do you mean Summer?! Are you telling me the woman I have known half my life, loved even has been lying to me this whole time? Was any of it true?” He bellowed, the knife poised at my throat. My face was white. I swallowed thickly, tears coming to my eyes.Do it.I pleaded in my mind. End my worthless life. “Give me one reason not to end your life right now?” he questioned. The knife pushed into my throat, blood forming at the tip. He was shaking with rage; it was worse than when I watched him beat a guy to death in the rings.
“I can’t, you should kill me and save us both some time,” I told him like it was, I was a piece of shit. My selfishness in keeping Summer in my life overlooked the fact that the bastards were still in her life. As long as I got my part of her, what did I care? It was fucked up they both still lived, but as soon as Dad ran for office his interests turned as well. By that time the damage was done, Summer was shipped out of the country, and I’d been in Midas’ possession for a few years and already labeled as Jeff Mathew’s problem child. Sympathy votes well constructed far in advance. I looked up at Scott, his face an unreadable mask, and I continued,“Her story is not mine to tell, I’ve known her as Summer since we were kids, two years afterthose events happened.” It was a lie. I knew her before those events, but I didn’t need him to know that. It was between Summer and me, a family matter. Scott removed the knife from my neck, and I took a shallow breath that quickly turned into a cry of pain when the knife landed in my thigh. “Fuck man!” I gasped out in pain. The fucking asshole smirked.
“That’s for not telling me her name,” he replied as he jerked the knife out. There was blood pooling, but it was the least of what I deserved. I gritted my teeth as my arms flexed at my side, if this was his reaction to a simple misunderstanding I’d hate to see what happens when he finds out who Gabby’s father was … I’ll take that to my grave if I have too. “Where the fuck is he?” He stabbed my other leg this time, god the pain ricocheted through my body to my brain. Thank fuck he was never a doctor, or I’d be dead.
“Where who is?” I pushed out, my head throbbing as he turned the knife just a fraction. “Jesus fucking christ! Stop that or you’ll actually kill me!” The yell forced out by agony wasn’t enough to save me though, and he ripped the knife out once again. This time, bits of flesh came with it. “Fuck you!” I shouted, spitting collected saliva on the ground. My heart was pushing blood to the wounds, and my head was spinning. The pain was burning me from the inside out, and I couldn’t breathe properly.
“Tell me where Midas is,” He raised the knife again, and I threw out my hand, gripping his wrist right where the pressure point was. The knife clattered to the ground.
Scott punched me in the face as soon as the blade landed and I fell backwards from the blow, the quick succession of hits rained over my face, my sides along with sobs and shouts of anguish had my mind racing trying to get him off me. My instincts were kicked into gear as I thrashed, trying to catch his hand from the oncoming punches. Each blow was worse than the last as my own shouts of pain mixed with his rage. Weended up rolling around, landing blow after blow. He needed this outlet, and as bruises started to form all over and I struggled to keep up with his speed, my injuries bled profusely. Eventually he tired, and I caught his wrists again, slamming them onto the ground and shifting my weight on top of him. Straddled on top of him, I saw the anguish, the fear, the shame in his eyes.
