He laughs louder. “No. And that’s exactly why it’s going to hurt me to see you go. You could have had a long and prosperous career with me.”
“Answer my question!” I growl. Two of his goons take a threatening step toward me, but Christian raises his hand, motioning for them to stay put. “Why do you want her?”
“Well, let’s just say it’s Castro’s fault that I want her dead. But I don’t want to bother you with the boring details since you are going to be busy dying. Rest assured, I’ll take good care of your little Dove. I’ll make sure my men have some fun with her before I kill her.”
I lunge for him before his last words have left his mouth. I’m fast, but his men anticipated my move. Two of them are on me before I can even get close to Christian. I let my fist fly, hitting one of them right in the nose, bones crunching beneath my knuckles. The other one grabs my arm and twists it back painfully.
Twisting my body, I free myself and punch him in the chest in one move. The guy stumbles back but not before slugging me in the side of the head. My head is pounding, but I shake it off and try to push past him to get to Christian. When I look up, I freeze.
Christian is only a few feet away from me, his gun pointed at my chest. I hear the gun go off and I feel the hot searing pain lancing across my chest like fire moving outward. My body jerks back involuntarily as the bullet slices through my muscle and tissue.
“I guess for you, I can make an exception and pull the trigger myself, old friend,” Christian says, and if I didn’t know him any better, I would say he is actually a little bit remorseful for killing me. “Get the girl and bring her to me,” he orders his men without looking away from me.
Anger and despair fill every fiber of my body. I want to kill him, want to kill every single one of his men, but all my body does is sag to the ground. I try to reach for my gun, but my limbs are useless. I’m useless. Dove is going to die. I’m going to lose everything.
“Goodbye, Zane…” Christian’s voice sounds far away, but that can’t be right. He was just here. I feel my eyes close, my mind fading away. No, no, no! I need to stay awake. I need to get to Dove, protect her.
I try to get up, but my body feels like it’s made out of lead. My mind is whirling, and all I can think of is how much I hate Christian. How much I want to kill him right now. I used to think he was my savior, Dove’s as well. He saved us both, and now he ends us both.
The memory of how it all began comes rushing forward. The beginning of the end.
“I’m not supposed to be released; you’re making a mistake.”
“I can’t believe you’re complaining about being released early. Be glad you get to leave. Mistake or not. You’re no longer my problem,” the prison guard says and shows me through the door.
I’m only seventeen, but for the last few months, I’ve done nothing but work out every day. Now I’m bigger than most kids my age, maybe that’s why they deemed me mature enough for prison. I’d only spent a few weeks in juvenile detention before they shipped me off to the state penitentiary.
“Put this on.” He throws a bag in front of my feet, and I quickly realize it’s the clothes I wore the day they brought me in. I change out of my inmate uniform and into my old worn jeans and T-shirt.
Then it hits me. I’m about to walk out of here. Free. But I have nowhere to go. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but here I know what was coming every morning. Every day was the same, an endless cycle of structure and routines. On the outside, there is nothing but chaos.
I’ll be lost.
Twenty minutes later, I’m outside, standing in a parking lot with nothing but two twenty-dollar bills in my hand. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
I start walking down the sidewalk, not knowing what else to do. I can’t just stand there. I make it