Antidote by LC Lehesaho
44
I can feel Cobra's hand in mine, and I know the man is still speaking, but... I can't hear him.
The paralyzing cold slithers into my bones.
I feel like I'm sinking back there.
I squeeze her against me, my hands trembling.
The thin mattress beneath us doesn't keep the cold away. The concrete is always cold, especially when the winter is coming. I know it from the small window at the top of the warehouse's double doors. Days are getting darker.
This is the second winter already.
I've kept count.
Amelia's thin body shakes against me, but I know it's not because of the cold. She stays warm when I keep her sheltered against me like this. Using my body as her blanket.
It's the nightmare where we live, chasing her into her dreams. She told me. She lives those things that they did to her all over again while she sleeps.
I do too.
The constant pain. Over and over again.
They didn't clean her after they were done today, and I can smell the blood on her. It was too dark to see anything when they brought her back, but I know where she's hurt. They never let her heal enough before hurting her again. Just like they never let me heal either.
The tin roof screeches, and the dogs start to bark in the cage next to ours. Amelia startles, and I squeeze her tighter, cradling her.
She sinks back into sleep again, and I press my face to her messy hair.
I try to remember the days when mom was with us. When she made us breakfast and read stories to us. I want to take my mind somewhere other than here.
But I can't.
I can't remember what it felt like to sleep in a bed. I can't remember what it felt like to be outside. Amelia said that she can. She’s always been brighter than me.
The dogs keep barking, the sound echoing from the walls, and it keeps my mind right here, not letting me even dream of better days.
"What the fuck do you want from us?" Cobra's voice pulls me back to the present, and I feel her squeezing my fingers tighter. "If you want to kill us, then why don't you fucking do it already and cut the bullshit."
"You're not even slightly intrigued about why you are here?" the man asks Cobra, and yeah, I fucking remember his face. I remember everyone's face from those three years. I remember every fucking detail.
But the reason he's still alive is that I don't fucking know who he is.
Never got his name.
"Does it matter? You're clearly not going to let us walk out of here, so what's the fucking point?" she snaps back.
She's so fucking brave.
But hell no.
The rage reverberates through my body as I look at the man. My vision starts to blur from the anger that swirls inside me. "Leave her the fuck out of this," I say to him, gritting my teeth. "Cobra has nothing to do with you losing your fucking money."
He rubs his jaw. "Well, in fact... this is not about that, Anthony. See." He turns his yellowish amber eyes back to Cobra. "This started way before that. It is actually Leo's head that I want. You two lovebirds are just pawns in my game. Like the rest of the magnificent Beasts of Prey."
"You're the cocksucker that has been fucking up our clubs and sneaking around in the shadows, huh?" Cobra throws out, and I feel her rage in the air like goddamn thunder. "Too fucking scared to be a man and stand up to us face-to-face? What a fucking pussy you are."
My girl.
The man's eyes light up with rage. "Maybe whore's like you should be killed like your grandmother was. I could let all my men fuck your every hole and cut your throat while they’re at it, what do you think? Still feeling bold, little bitch?"
"I'll kill you." A low growl rises from my throat, and before I register that I'm moving—I'm up on my feet and I’ve jumped down from the porch in the blink of an eye.
"One move and I slit her throat!" A yell from my back stops me in my tracks. Slowly, I look over my shoulder.
Luke, or Levi, is holding a blade to Cobra's throat.
My heart sinks, and my throat tightens with fear on her behalf.
"Back on your knees, Anthony," the man says from my other side. "I haven't finished."
Gritting my teeth, I do as he says, but I keep my eyes on the blade. If he fucking draws even one drop of blood out of her...
"So…" He walks around me to Cobra's side and leans closer to brush a strand from her face. "I have to say that I'm not surprised by your temper. Runs in the family, I guess."
"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?" she asks, glaring at him. Her eyes flame with anger and her hands are balled into fists at her sides.
"I'm Silas, you pretty little whore. If your daddy hasn't told you about me, I'm sure you’ve heard of my brother," he drawls, stroking her hair, and I see Cobra’s eyes widen at the name. "Victor Crusador. Ringing bells?"
Holy mother of fuck.
That name also tells me a lot.