Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Marcus did kill him. He killed him for me, and now …
Crack! I scream out as my body doubles over and I hold my stomach. I didn’t even see the kick coming. The pain radiates through me and I find myself huddled in as small of a figure as I can. It doesn’t help me, though. Even as the cry is still tearing through me, the masked man fists my hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me up and forcing my bruised body to unfold as I stand.
“Now, Delilah, you need to tell Marcus not to intervene. Do you understand?”
Fresh tears leak from the corners of my eyes and I stare ahead at Brass. He’s a man of confidence and so certain that he has the upper hand. I don’t know what Marcus has done, but I know if I do what he says, Brass could kill me. He feels he needs me now. That in some way, I’m a piece, a pawn, in their game.
Even as my lips quake, I press them firmly together, barely able to shake my head from the grip the man still has on me. He yanks at me savagely, forcing a scream from me and shoving my body against the wall of brick.
“Say it!” Brass screams, eating up the distance between us. “Say it!” His scream is so loud and so close, it vibrates my chest, making it ache and the fear of what’s next suffocates me.
Between every command is a beating. Merciless and unrelenting. I would stay silent if I could, but whimpers and screams are as constant as the commands.
“Tell him we had a deal.”
Blood coats my mouth.
“Tell him it’s his fault.”
Betrayal and hurt are the only thoughts that distract from the pain.
Brass’s next confession would hit me harder, if I hadn’t already suspected it. “Did you think the evidence disappeared on its own?” Brass licks his lips, getting so close to me that I can smell the stale coffee on his breath. “Marcus is the one who let me out. He’s the one who tainted the evidence. We had a deal,” he says, emphasizing the last part with his brow creased. “He did this to you. You should loathe him.”
Wincing, I expect another strike. Instead I’m released, watching Brass’s back as he paces to the other side of the room.
“Say it.” This time when he speaks, his voice is calm, gentle even. “Tell Marcus this is because of him.”
I’m given a small moment to consider it all. Every moment that led to this before I respond, knowing I can’t give him what he wants, regardless of my own conclusions.
“Our actions are our own.” It’s a truth I’ve said countless times before. It’s been followed by folders being slapped down on a steel table as I pulled the truth from criminals who committed atrocious deeds, but followed up confessions with buts” and the names of others they blamed.
A huff that’s half disbelief and half disgust is blown from Brass as he rounds me. His boots slap on the broken concrete ominously, but not a single piece of me stirs. I accept it. I will take what’s to come now without hope of something more.
“I’m going to die here,” I whisper out loud. At first it’s as if Brass doesn’t hear what I said, but slowly it dawns on him and a thin smile curls his lips up in the most sickening way.
“Yes, yes you are. And you deserve it.”
Marcus
I have to force myself to watch. Every whimper that’s uttered from her lips, the quick and stuttered intakes of her breath, and the cries of pain she can’t hold back no matter how hard she tries—all of it shreds me.
I tell myself not to look away, and it takes everything in me to stand perfectly still as I do. The projection screen fills the back wall of the hotel room. When the screen pauses, her eyes scrunched and her head ripped back by a man in a mask, I realize my blunt nails have dug into my skin to the point of drawing blood.
“The cell consists of four walls that have deteriorated. One of Brass’s men was spotted in Saint Peters, and another has family only a mile away …” Charlie has a habit of thinking out loud. Once a young man hell-bent on justice, he grew to play a part of my Army. I was young and reckless when I had him kill his sister’s ex. It was easy to do. I gave a boy a gun at the perfect time. That time happened to be his sister’s ex walking to his car in the back of an alley after his shift had ended. He would get away with it easily. I forgot though … I forgot that killing someone, being the reason they’ve died, changes a man.