Page 68 of When Sinners Fear
“You should.” I keep driving. I don’t need her thinking any differently to me at the moment. I certainly don’t need her trying to bring some moralistic view to this that isn’t worth shit. “You see Dante up there in front of us?” She nods. “He blames himself for Elias’ death. He got distracted over in London, and because of that our brother was killed. Abel feels the same way. He was too busy thinking about deals we’d got going on back here. And me? I was out drinking that night after a damn busy couple of months. One night off was all I wanted. One. It wasn’t until I went back later on in the evening and found the whole damn place ablaze that I realised there was a problem.”
Memories come thick and fast of the visions I found, of the van I saw driving away. So much fucking chaos. Some girls were running the streets, and there was nothing but the dead bodies of clients littering the rubble I climbed through. “I found Ratchet first. He was already searching through the smoke, and we eventually found Dante and Abel. Abel was out cold. I thought he was dead until he came round, and Dante was under a tonne of rubble and fire. Reed did that to them. He left them there to die. He caused the explosion that would kill them.” I can still smell that fucking place, still feel the sheer panic that flooded me as I called their names. “Ratchet got Abel outside, but Dante and I searched on for Elias. Whole damn place was burning around us, and what little was still standing was crumbling down with every next step we took. We eventually found him at the back of the building. The fire hadn’t reached there yet. He was just in a room, neck broken and eyes staring lifelessly at nothing. That was my brother, Peyton. He didn’t deserve that. That was planned, just like what we’ve been through.” I swallow, tightening my fists on the wheel to keep my temper down. “Don’t you dare sit here and think anything other than how much this goddamn asshole deserves what’s coming to him.”
She’s quiet for a while, as we keep driving, and whilst part of me wants to hide this kind of thing from someone like her, there’s no hiding it from any of us. We’ve been in it, we’ve felt it, we’ll damn well avenge it. Maybe life can settle after that – maybe we’ll all find a way to move on and live how we should again.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says. “I didn’t know. Not all of it.” Her apology, her care, softens me, and I look over at her. The bruising on her face has about gone now, and she’s starting to look like the Peyton I met that day at church. “Is Ratchet another brother? I haven’t seen him.”
“No, he works for us.”
“What does he do?” I don’t answer. “I don’t really know what any of you do, you’ve been careful to keep that vague when you answer.”
“You don’t want to know the details.”
“Okay. I was just trying to change the subject.” Of course she was. But, for some reason, I’m all screwed up inside about how best to navigate that conversation. This is the goddamn problem Dante was in with Wren, and it’s the very reason why there’s no point in pursuing anything between us. “Naja? Who is she?”
“I’ve told you; you don’t want to know this.”
She twists in her seat and fixes those goddamn angelic blues on me. “I do. I’m travelling with you to watch a man get killed because of what he did to us both. I can handle the truth, Knox.”
“No, you can't, Peyton. It isn’t pretty. Neither am I. Whatever happened between us doesn’t change one thing about who I am or what I do.” She stays fixed on me, seemingly girding herself for whatever’s coming. “Why do you need this?”
“Because I’m not hiding from what’s going on here. You are. You’re not the kind of man to hide, so stop shielding me. I’m free now. I’m here to make my own decisions. I need the truth about who you are.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Yes you are. You’re ashamed about something, or worried about my reaction to it. You’re not protecting me anymore by keeping me in the dark. I used to be innocent, Knox. I’m not now. You’ve made sure of that.” Bitch move.
It pisses me off enough to get words out. “Fine. We sell girls like products, Peyton. We train them, and then we ship them off to the highest bidder. If they’re not good enough for that then they’re in our houses stripping or fucking for profit. You want the truth, there it is. We’re traffickers, and we make a whole lot of money out of that and other ventures, which are just as insidious. Does that help? You feeling better now?”
She remains fixed on me. No movement, no reaction either. I guess she’s digesting the information, taking it in. I can almost hear her brain thinking it over. “Was I – did you come for me to sell me?”
“No. You were for me and me alone.”
“Pull the car over.” I frown and keep driving. “You pull this damn car over now or I’ll get out on my own.” I don’t, and she starts levering the door handle. It won’t open. The locking mechanism makes sure of it.
“Stop, Peyton.” She unclicks her belt and reaches over me to the switch that unlocks everything, and before I know it, she’s reaching for the goddamn door handle again. The door part opens as I grip her arm. I yank both her and the door at the same time, trying to contain the instant swerve the car slides into.
“Let go of me!” The car keeps sliding, and I wrangle it towards the side of the road. Vehicles screech and blare at me as I do, until we come to a sharp fucking halt in some hell hole in the Bronx.
“Jesus Christ, Peyton.” She fights her arm free from me and opens the door again, shifting her ass out and then slamming the door behind her. I’m out immediately, eyes trained on anything near us and her as she walks off. “Where the hell are you going?” I shout. No answer. I follow, hurrying my steps so I can get in front of her before she takes a wrong damn turn around here. “Get back in the goddamn car.”
She stops and glares at me. “Why? What for? Why would I spend another minute with someone like you?”
“So we can go do what we’ve come here for. Do whatever the hell you want after that.” I reach for her, ready to drag her back to safety if I have to, but two guys approach from the dark alley behind her at the same time. Everything about my nature comes raging back fast and hard, and my gun is pulled from beneath my jacket to send two rounds off by their feet in a heartbeat.
She shrieks at the same time as I grab for her, tucking her head into my shoulder. I scowl at both of them, raising the barrel up to their eyeline. “Today is not the fucking day for this kinda crap,” I mutter, holding her tightly. “Go while you have the chance. I’m not playing.”
Luckily for them, they see some sense about the matter and back away, hands raised in surrender. Still, I keep my gaze trained on them as I back us both up to the car again. “You okay?” I ask. She nods into my shoulder, and then starts shoving at me to get off her.
“No. No, I’m not okay. You can’t tell me what you just told me and expect me to be okay with anything!” She looks around the streets, panicked and probably searching for a way out of here without me. There isn’t one. Not one I'll allow, anyway. “And now you’re shooting at people? You could have killed them.”
“Would’ve done, too. Without any fucking remorse.” Nothing comes near her. Or me. Her mouth opens. “No, you keep that attitude down because you don’t get to throw this crap at me. We’re on the way to kill someone, Peyton. He’s the guy who whipped you and caused all of the reasons you’re here with me now.”
“Youcaused that! You came for me in the church. A church! You knew who you were, and you knew the risks you took in life, and you still came for someone like me. What was I? A fun time? An innocent to mess up and play with?” She starts pacing, like she can’t contain all the information in her head.
“Get in the car.”
“No.”