Page 120 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

But my greatest pain didn't come from the wounds inflicted on me—oh, no.

It came after.

In the place where my wife agreed to spend the tonight.

Chapter Seventeen

“Family home means everything, they say.

You’re always welcome there, they say.

No one can hurt you behind its walls, they say.

It’s not true, I say.”

Santiago

Chicago, Illinois

Santiago, 15 years old

The cabbie pulls up by the huge mansion that is my family home, slightly away from the iron gates guarded by several men, and leans forward a bit as if trying to study it through the windshield. “Are you sure we’re at the right place?” He throws me a look over his shoulder, his eyes scanning my less-than-stellar appearance, as I’m still wearing torn pants and a small T-shirt while my feet remain bloody and bare, stinking like hell and reminding me the wounds will fester if I don't take care of them soon.

But then again, what’s another scar on my body, right?

Wiping my hands on my pants, I snatch out the hundred-dollar bill I promised him when he agreed to bring me to any address I requested. Everyone else refused me based on appearances alone.

My ride with the guys didn't last long. I drove the car as fast as my limited skills allowed until we crashed into a tree and bumped our heads hard, but luckily no one was injured.

We heard a train pass by closely, found the station where it was waiting for a few minutes, and hopped inside. Since it had sand and building supplies stacked around, no one noticed our presence.

Only then did we breathe easily, leaving the area that had brought us so much pain.

Staying together was dangerous though, and besides, I wasn't sure anyone had the desire to anyway. Destiny connected us by mutual pain, but that same pain almost made us resent each other, as we served as living and breathing reminders of what happened to us.

Although, I was less bitter about it and wouldn’t mind finding them someday if they survived. Not sure about Artem and Callum, since they displayed no desire to stay in touch when I offered to give them my address or for them come to my home with me. I knew they had nowhere to go.

We found several stacks of clothes inside the train and quickly put on shirts, and we even managed to find money to add to our luck. I took only a hundred so I could get home and not involve the cops. I didn’t trust anyone anymore with my safety and sure as fuck wouldn’t give Andreas an opportunity to grab me again before I reached home and got all my rights back.

We all headed to different states. Callum picked our first stop—Texas. I hopped off at the next station, saluting Artem on my way, who would settle in New York, because it was the last stop and he didn't really have a choice.

And just like, that our destinies separated forever.

“Buddy, do you hear me? Are you sure this is the correct address? Because those guards sure don't look friendly.” I glance through the window at said men who frown and murmur to each other before one of them comes closer and taps on the roof.

The cabbie slides his window down and waves. “Hey.”

“Who are you?” the man asks, and the cabbie points at me with his thumb.

“Just brought a passenger.”

The man shifts his focus to me, his stare intense, and my hands fist, barely restraining myself from punching him in the face, because I hate any man’s gaze lingering on me longer than necessary.

My body will always hold the scars and memories of the wrongful things done to it. The all-consuming need to wash myself over and over again until those touches forever disappear from my brain becomes so overwhelming I have to take a deep calming breath.

Creating a space inside my mind where only coldness, fury, and desire for revenge exists.

I give the cabbie the money—he almost rips it from my hands—and I get out of the car, saying, “Thank you.” All things considered, he showed me kindness when most didn’t, even if this kindness required dollar bills.

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