Page 3 of Lord of Vengeance
“Are you okay?” I asked, the question automatic.
“Ya… Yes.” Her teeth were chattering, her response weak.
I could hear my father’s voice booming in the back of my mind, the ugliness of his tone likely exactly what I’d hear moments before he punished me for the ridiculous infraction I was engaging in.
Choices have consequences. You need to keep that in mind, my son. If you don’t, you will die an early death.
In my mind, that could be by his hands. He hated weaknesses of any kind, using women as objects to fulfill his sickening sadistic desires. I’d lost my mother years before, his refusal to talk about it fueling constant anger. Maybe my significant loss was the reason I’d suddenly lost my mind, abandoning my father’s men to protect a mere child.
The sudden disruption in gunfire was more unnerving than the shower of bullets whizzing through the air.
“Who are you?” she asked in a tiny voice.
Huffing, I shifted my gaze toward her, surprised how her long strands of hair shimmered in the ominous light. “The boogeyman.” Her eyes opened wide after I made the statement, the young girl folding her arms around her bent knees, rocking back and forth. What in the hell was she doing here all by herself?
I didn’t bother asking her name. In truth, I didn’t want to give a shit. Whether or not I was angling for good boy points in a world where violence was little more than a game, Russian roulette on steroids, I wasn’t certain. And I couldn’t care.
Yet I did.
She was the epitome of innocence, yet to endure the reality that humanity was divided into two distinctions. Those with power and those without. I sat back, uncertain what to do from here. I’d already screwed up in protecting some unknown girl instead of my father’s men. I should have fought alongside them, proving my courage as I annihilated as many savages as possible.
There was time for regret as the voices were coming closer, suddenly just outside the broken window. I turned toward the girl, scooting closer. She had a choice to make herself. Either live or die. “Listen to me. Whatever happens, don’t leave this spot for a couple hours and don’t make a single sound. Do you hear me? Then you’re going to wait until morning before you leave. Can you do that?”
She nodded profusely, her entire body shaking more than before. Another sound forced her to bite her lip to keep from crying out. As I started to back away, yanking another fresh magazine into my hand, she wrapped her small hand around my arm.
“Why are you helping me?”
Her tiny voice pulled at the boy inside of me, the one who’d lost his innocence a long time ago.
“I don’t know.” I was honest with her, more so than I’d intended but maybe that’s what she deserved in the end.
At the sound of door hinges creaking, my entire body stiffened. Once again, I placed my finger over my lips before slowly and quietly replacing the clip of ammunition. I managed to offer a smile, which she returned in kind.
As I turned away, I heard her small words, a light whisper that would likely haunt me for years to come.
“Be careful. Thank you. You’re my hero.”
Hero.
The girl had no fucking clue who she was talking to. I shifted to the very edge of the crates, easing one hand to the knife I always carried with me. There were three of them, three fucking bastards determined to take me out.
Fuck them.
I couldn’t screw this up.
I would prove my worth to my father. I would show him that I was ready to take more control. Yet at that moment, fear rushed into my system, preventing me from moving.
Until one of the bastards decided to taunt me.
“Sal y te dejaremos vivir.”
The Spanish was crude, not what I’d learned from my grandfather as a boy. But I understood the meaning.
Come out and we’ll let you live.
Bullshit.
I knew better.