Page 1 of Rebels & Rejects
Prologue
Eight years ago
“P-p-please,” the pathetic sack of shit at my feet pleads. “I told you everything I k-know.”
I tilt my head as I stare down at him impassively, noting every shake and tremble of his body as I press the muzzle of my gun against the center of his forehead. Why do they always beg? They know who I am, who I represent. They know we don’t offer mercy. Who would want to die groveling on their fucking knees? When my time comes, I wanna go out staring death straight in the face, giving it a finalfuck you.
Bang. There’s minimal kickback from the revolver as the loud sound ricochets off the stone walls, echoing around the dark alley. The bullet makes a perfect circle in the front of the scumbag’s forehead, and I watch as he crumples into a heap on the ground, feeling absolutely nothing—no remorse, no guilt. Not even happiness or satisfaction at a job well done. There’s something fundamentally wrong with me. My father knows it too. Apparently, the fact that I’m incapable of feeling emotions is a good thing. It’s why I’ll be the most ruthless leader the Antonellis have ever had. Because it means I can make the hard decisions, do what needs to be done—like kill this sorry fucker who thought he could spy on us—and still sleep like a baby tonight.
Staring down at the sorry sack of shit, I take in the pool of blood around his head that’s growing progressively larger and his saggy, sallow skin that looks yellow in the dim light from the flickering street lamp down the block. Something sparks within me. It’s small, and it disappears before I can place it. Hunger maybe? It definitely has a heady feel to it.
“Hey!” a voice barks from behind me. The deep bellow is followed by the sounds of a scuffle that draws my attention away from the corpse at my feet, and turning around, I find Lor wrestling to contain a scrawny little street urchin in his arms. The kid is writhing and kicking out as he grunts and groans with exertion, attempting to escape the bands of steel wrapped around his waist. He’s so busy fighting against Lor that he is oblivious to the real threat observing him closely—me.
Whoever the fuck this kid is, he’s just seen me commit a crime. Not that I’m worried he’ll go to the police.Ha, that’s a laugh.Every police officer in this city is in someone's pocket. If it’s not ours, it’s The Feral Beasts or one of the other smaller gangs running around in this rat-infested city. Regardless of whose pocket they’re in, none of them would dare pull any of us in.
No, what I can’t have is this bag of bones running off and telling The Feral Beasts that I’ve just taken out one of their moles. They’ll find out in a few days when they don’t hear from him, only it will be too late. By then, we will have fished out the other fuckers they’ve planted within our organization.
“Let me go!” the little thing snarls out, surprising me. It’s not just the angry tone and defiant boldness that catches me off guard, but the high pitch of the voice.
He’s not a he, but ashe—a girl.
I cast my eyes over her squirming frame once again, but it’s impossible to see any curves or tits in those baggy clothes that hang off her scrawny frame. By the looks of things, she’s too fucking skinny to have any anyway.
“Why would he do that?” I bark out in a deep, menacing growl that thunders through the narrow alley. She instantly freezes in Lor’s arms, her head snapping up to meet my steely gaze as I slowly close the distance between us. My heavy boots boom with every step I take until I loom over her, casting her in shadow.
She peers up at me with wide, fearful eyes as I silently take her in. There’s nothing special about her. Coated in dirt and grime, with her dark hair like a bird’s nest, filled with knots and split ends, she looks like some sort of feral animal; a wildcat—similar to every other street urchin... except for those eyes. Even in the poor lighting, those endless pools of blue hold me captive. They’re a brilliant cerulean, like how I imagine the Caribbean Sea looks. Not that I’ve ever seen it in real life, but I’ve caught a glimpse of it on TV. It’s one of those scenes you can’t tear your eyes from. You’re convinced you can see right to the seabed at the bottom, read all of the secrets hidden in its dark depths, but it’s a lie. While it draws you in, making you think you can see more than you can; in reality, it holds all of its mysteries close, unwilling to give any of them up.
The girl’s eyebrows draw together, and her chin lifts in defiance, probably thinking my silence is a scare tactic and not that she just rendered me mute. I shake off the weird feeling she’s evoked and give a slight jerk of my head, silently telling Lor to let the girl go. Before she can scamper away, I grab ahold of her arm with my free hand. My gun is still clasped in my other, and I bring it up to aim at her head, watching as the fight instantly drains out of her and she goes stock-still in my grip. Her eyes widen, making her look like a deer caught in headlights, but unlike the sorry sack of shit behind me, she doesn’t collapse to her knees at the realization she’s about to die. Instead, she surprises me by setting her jaw into a hard line and pushing back her shoulders. Straightening her spine, she stares brazenly back at me.Hell, she’s got bigger balls than most of the men who find themselves on the wrong end of my revolver.
However, despite her bravado, I can see the terror in her eyes. It’s the same fear everyone seems to experience when they realize their time is up. Seeing it doesn’t bother me, though. If anything, it just makes me more curious about human nature. I don’t understand the notion of fear. It seems pointless. Yet, looking into her captivating eyes as she blinks rapidly—as if hoping she can just blink the scene in front of her away—for the first time in my life, it makes me pause. I don’t want to have to kill her.What the fuck is happening to me?It must be because she’s a kid. I’ve never killed anyone so young before. That’s gotta be it.
We both continue to stare at one another, and I recognize the flicker of warmth that ignites in my chest. I’ve felt it only a handful of times in my life and it always seems to extinguish before I can place it. But not today. Instead, it sits there in my chest, simmering at a low heat, like the dying embers of a fire. It’s still too small for me to identify, but it’s present all the same.
What is this? Who is she?Questions arise to the forefront of my mind as my gaze bores into hers, hungrily seeking answers. She returns my stare unbidden, and I have no idea what she sees when she looks into my soulless eyes. Can she glimpse the monster I am? Or am I nothing more than a cold, hard, unreadable shell?
The whole time, she spears me with her incensed glare. Fearful but defiant ‘til the very end. It’s impressive.
Keeping the barrel pointed at her forehead, I lift my thumb and pull back on the hammer, cocking the gun. She startles at the sound of the loud click before hardening her features again, refusing to let me peer any deeper into her psyche. I press my finger against the trigger, knowing what I need to do. It’s easy. Merely the flexing of a finger, and yet...
A lifetime seems to pass in a single moment as her life hangs in the balance, while I find myself struggling for the first time in my life with knowing what needs to be done. Her death was written in the stars as soon as Lor caught her. And yet something I can’t quite put my finger on is urging me to go against the rules of the Family, rules that are ingrained into the very fabric of my being.
Time ticks on, one long second after another, as my finger repeatedly tenses against the trigger before hesitation hits, and I relax it again.
She needs to die.
But...
She’s a witness.
Still...
Without giving the action any conscious thought, I ease my finger off the trigger and drop my arm down to my side, ignoring the flash of confusion that darkens her irises. Using my tight grip on her arm, I yank her into me so I can hiss in her ear, “If you mention this to anyone, I’ll fucking gut you,” before flinging her backward, away from me. The distance between us allows me to take a much-needed breath that thankfully douses the confusing heat in my chest.
She stumbles before quickly righting herself, gaping at me in astonishment, most likely unable to comprehend how she’s still alive; how she’s about to walk away with her life. Trust me, it’s something I’m still struggling to understand.
“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind,” I bark when she makes no move to run. “Don’t show your face here again!”
Without a second's hesitation, she sprints for the end of the alleyway and ducks out of sight. In her absence, I can feel the heavy weight of Lor’s gaze on me, and when I finally look away from the spot where the baffling girl disappeared, I find him watching me with a mixture of surprise and confusion.