CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SHAW

The flight landed an hour ago. There weren't any problems, and she was quiet and well-behaved the whole damn way. Surprising, but I expect that's what the threat of your sister getting killed does to you. I slept while Dante watched over her between us, and then he did the same for the last hours. She didn't speak or acknowledge anything other than saying thank you for the food when the cabin staff brought it over. Don't know how I felt about any of it. Still don't.

Mariana drives us through heavy traffic around the outskirts of San Antonio, then veers towards the back roads heading out to the holding facility. It's silent the whole way, but I can already hear those girls whimpering from here in my head. I doubt either of these two give a damn – certainly not Dante, but I never did learn to switch it off. Yeah, it might be arousing in some way when I think about the free access to fucking, but it still cuts close to the bone for me. Sometimes, all I can see is that night long ago when it was Mariana crying, when everything changed. I felt that fear in her that night, and I saw Dante rage at himself and everything around him. She was like them really – scared, helpless, desperate.

Eventually, we pull up, and Dante yanks Miri out the back to tow her into the building. I stay in the car, watching it happen. She doesn't even fight him; she just hurries to keep up with his strides until they're through the door and out of my sight.

"How was London?" Mariana asks beside me.

I frown. "Fine."

"I've never been." I don't engage in conversation. Why bother? It's not like we're friendly most of the time. "You okay?" I pull my stare from the door and look at her.

"What?"

"Something's on your mind. I know we're not close, but you are my twin, Shaw. I can tell."

"Yeah, whatever, screw you."

"Hey, dipshit. I'm trying to be nice here." I get out of the car and slam the door, heading for the inside of the building. She's out and coming around the car to stop me before I get there. "Well, fuck you, too, then. Anyway, you're not going in there." She tries handing the keys of her Aston to me. "Abel wants you back at the house. Now." I push past her and go inside anyway. "Shaw?"

The bright light of the Texan sun disappears instantly, and I'm plunged into the usual dimly lit darkness this family seems to thrive in. Can't say I mind it myself, but the sounds start up just as quick. Carmen's shouting orders around somewhere, and, low and behold, there's the acrid smell of smoke coming from the corridors the further in I go. It's more of our business getting branded up, no doubt. Which means Kai's here as well.

I keep moving, searching for Dante and Miri. I don't find him, but I do eventually find her in one of the private cells deep in. She looks up at me from her bench when I get in front of her. There's little emotion on her face. In fact, it looks like it has for the whole fucking journey. It's like she's stonewalling everything and everyone, closing down so she's got enough energy to get this done and see her sister. I know the feeling. Trouble is, the cell she's in is the same one Naja was in when I left. I'm not sure what that means yet, but I'm guessing it's not gonna give Miri the outcome she was hoping for.

"Where's Naja?" she asks quietly.

"I don't know."

"You said I'd see her."

"I didn't say shit."

She frowns and looks at the floor. "He did, though. Your brother. He showed me the video. Said if I behaved, I'd get to see her again."

"And you trusted that?" I snort, partly disgusted at this whole damn situation. "Stupid girl. There's nothing about a Cortez worth trusting. You have to mean something to them for trust to work. You don't mean anything." Not one damn thing other than profit and some low-lying vengeance that Abel can't get past. I get it. I do. I even understand his need for finality. I'm not him, though. I'm not any of them. "You hungry?" She doesn't answer; she just sits there looking at me. "Thirsty?" Still nothing. I look back along the corridor at the sound of some girl screaming under Kai's work and nod to myself. This is home. Life. Whatever I was thinking about letting her go when we were over there in London, just lost its chance at reality. She's nothing now. Just another girl in another building in another long line of profit.

"Yeah, yeah." I look at Mariana walking towards me with the phone to her ear. "His phone is dead, Abel. I'll get him back to you now." I frown and glance back at Miri. "Shaw," Mariana snarls quietly. I turn to her again. She nods at the phone while covering it. "You need to get your ass to him. Now. He's pissed as hell. I've told him your phone's dead." She uncovers the phone. "Yeah, I'm still here. Just trying to find him." Go, she mouths at me as she holds her keys out to me again.

Sighing, I take the keys from her and walk back out the way I came. Dante's sitting in the main room as I pass through it, talking to someone on his phone as a girl brings him a drink. He downs it and looks over at me. No smile. No acknowledgement at all. He just keeps speaking quietly and staring me down until he turns away and shields whatever conversation he's having.

I snort and head outside. He needs me? He doesn't need me. None of them need me. I'm just some dick who does as he's told, aren't I? And now I guess I'm about to go get my ass handed to me for thinking again. Sounds like a fuck load of fun.

The journey over to the main house passes too quickly, and before I know it, I'm pulling into the drive. I kill the engine and sit a while, staring at the manicured lawns and palms to try calming down. I don't even know why I'm so pissed inside this time around. None of this is unusual. Treat Shaw like crap, have a go, make sure he understands his place. It's all average. The same, day in, day out.

Three sharp knocks hit the side of the door, bringing me out of my stare. I look up and find Lexi standing there. She tilts her head and waits for me to get out, which I do, because who'd want to get on the wrong side of her when she's got Abel on a fucking leash.

"Hello, Shaw."

"Hey."

"He's in the kitchen. I would try for apologetic."

"Yeah, whatever." I walk towards the house and up the steps. Apologetic won't work. I know that. I knew it the second I stopped answering his calls. Any form of going against him, or keeping him in the dark, just puts another notch on his fuck-you belt. It makes me wonder, as I wander through the main hall, why I did it in the first place. What was I gonna do back there in London, let her run and then, what? Disappear? Not come back? Not likely. No, I'd have still come back, knowing all too well that I'd get a beating for having my own mind. I'm loyal like that. Fucking stupid.

Irritated and confused with myself, I walk into the kitchen and find him at the small table in the corner. He looks up from his food, glares, and then goes back to eating.

"Sit." I stay standing. "Goddamn you, Shaw. I'm gonna wrap this table around your head in a minute if you don't sit your ass down." He forks some meat into his mouth and keeps looking at me. My fists tighten, my body tensing with them. I don't know why, but now I'm not feeling the need to be put in my place about having a fucking opinion.

He stands, throws his napkin on the table, and walks around it to get in front of me. "You know, I didn't think we'd have to have this conversation, but you look about ready for it."

I scowl and back up half a step unconsciously. I'm more pissed about that than him summoning me like some drug runner, so I step up again.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?"

"Didn't feel like it." He shoves me so quick I trip over my own feet. I can still feel the goddamn imprint of both palms on my chest when I right myself again. "Still don't feel like it."

"You wanna try some deference instead?" he says, calm as you like. "Last warning."

"Fuck you, Abel. I don"t have to bow and scrape constantly. I've got my own mind." Some smile snarls on his face, like I just gave him permission to bring anything at me. I. Don't. Care.

I keep scowling, unsure what I'm doing this for but knowing, in my bones, it needs fucking doing. I'm done, and the last time we did this, I was a damn sight smaller. He comes at me so hard I buckle at the pressure of his hit to my guts. My hand goes to the floor to push me upright again, breath heaving in from the impact. Another hit comes at my jaw instantly. It sends me off balance, but well-trained instincts fire enough anger that I manage to get three punches thrown at him and landing. He grunts and falls a step away from me, enough so that I rally everything I've got to make my point felt. It isn't enough – nowhere near enough – no matter how much I try, and before long, I'm on the ground with his knee pressed against my throat.

I look up, dazed, and see his face looking down on me. There's no playtime featuring on it. He's like that guy I first met when he came out of prison, all evil and nothing but hatred. I try catching a breath under the feel of his knee pushing down on me, but I can't pull any air in. He forces down harder, bringing his face closer until we're inches from each other, and I'm gasping.

Wrangling him with my hands and twisting my body, I try everything I've got to get out from under him. Nothing works. I'm suffocating beneath my own fucking brother – dying. Even in my own head, that's a metaphor worth giving credence to. So, I give up and let my hands fall to the side, surrendering. Why not? Not like anything's changing any time soon. This fight just proved it.

The pressure doesn't ease, though.

In fact, he forces it harder again.

"Abe-" I try speaking or pulling in another breath from somewhere. No air comes. I hit the ground with my hands, trying to tap out like I did when Dante, Knox and Elias taught me to fight. Nothing. The pressure builds behind my eyes, the blood rushing to my face, and my mouth opens and closes in desperation for help. But I can't make a sound.

And those fucking eyes keep glaring at me.

"You feel that? That's death come calling," he says. I try for a breath again. He just keeps staring. "You should remember who keeps you protected from it." The weight of his knee presses deeper, crushing my windpipe down before finally disappearing completely.

I gulp and gasp for air as he gets up, coughing and spluttering on the floor. It barely works, and I roll myself to all fours to pull in every ounce of air I can get. "Might wanna remember who can help you on your way to hell, too."

As if I didn't know that already.

By the time I'm up and breathing again, he's back at his side of the table and eating again. He looks at me pacing the room and keeps his stare fixed until he looks at the chair opposite him. I don't need the words. I'm to sit like he first instructed. Looks like that round of who owns you is fucking done, and I was too weak to win it.

Battered, bruised and self-conscious of my still lowered position, I sit and look at the table.

"Dante is leaving intwo daysfor New York. You'll go with him." I nod like a fucking whore, as he carries on reeling off my life for me. I've got an apartment there, all ready for me to live a new life and be some second in command to Dante until Knox gets there.I should be happy with that, grateful. In fact, given my constant want for that side of this business rather than the other, I should be on cloud nine. Nothing but fighting, fucking, bringing order and killing? Yeah, that's me through and through. I'm not riding some cloud, though. I'm desolate, ashamed, and fucking unnerved about that beating I just took because of my own opinions and thoughts.

Alone, is what I am. On my own.

My thoughts go to Miri back there in her cell as he keeps talking. She's alone, too, now. Made that way because of me and my actions. I might have been sent there to get her, but it was my own weak ass that couldn't make a call before it was too late for her.

"Where is Knox?" I ask quietly.

He pushes his plate away and stands to head for the refrigerator. "Here and there. He'll be in New York if he can be, and contactable. Until then, it's just you and Dante." I nod again, not even bothering to push for more information on that cryptic answer.

A bottle of soda lands in front of me, and he remains standing behind me. "You answer a goddamn call next time I make one to you, you hear? You answer or you text to tell me why you're not answering. Last fucking chance. You might want to thank your brothers, too. It's them that talked me out of another ending here. I won"t be talked around again."

Footsteps sound, and within seconds, I'm alone, and he's gone.

I sit a while longer, sighing to myself, drinking my soda, and wallowing in my own pitiful existence. No one sees it outwardly. They see the girls, the money and the lifestyle around our business, but being at the bottom of this pile of viciousness isn't all it seems. Maybe one day, when they're all dead and gone, I'll be me. Maybe then I'll be able to find out who that guy inside me who questions them actually is.

Eventually, I pull my beaten ass up and head back to the car.

Driving takes me to the airstrip for my own vehicle, and I end up driving back to the holding facility to give Mariana her keys back. Guess Kai will take her for her car later, or I will. Whatever.

Parking up outside, I stare at the barren wasteland around me. I'm angry, in pain, and confused as hell, with myself mostly. My tongue runs over my lips, and the copper-tang stays heavy on my tongue. I pull the visor down and look at myself. Cracked lip, swollen cheek. A low, exhausted laugh rumbles through me as I lean back on the headrest. No one understands – no one wants to talk about it, either. Maybe it's just me. Runt of the litter. Fuck, even Mariana's got a higher pay grade than me these days.

I should just drink. In fact, maybe it would be better if I wasn't even here on this planet. I wouldn't think then. Wouldn't question shit. Wouldn't have to.