Tortured Sinner by Tessa James

Johnny - 8

No one has ever avoided me so well in my entire life.

And honestly, I have to give her some credit.

I mean, we live in the same building, and go to the same college, but yet she’s managed to evade me all damn day.

Still, I have no fucking clue what I’m going to say to her. But I’m hoping once I get in front of her, the words will come to me. They have to.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I internally cringe at what it might possibly say. I slide it out and read the one-word text.

Unknown: Now.

I sigh and put it back in place. I grab my shit and leave, because when duty calls, you don’t mess around, not in my line of work.

I rush down the stairs and glance over at the girl’s door. I never saw her go inside, but I can’t imagine she’s anywhere else at this hour.

I make quick work of getting to the alley where Josey stands guard.

“Brace yourself, kid,” he tells me when I approach. “You musta pissed someone off.”

I’m not at all surprised. It seems I can’t do anything right these days.

“Do you know what it’s about?” I ask him.

Josey shakes his head, his expression softening. “They don’t tell me shit.”

I grip the handle and take a deep breath, preparing myself for what's to come.

Franklin looks up at me from his spot at the same table he’s always at. He slowly reaches up to take the thick cigar from his mouth.

I stand in silence as he discards the ashes in the tray sitting next to his crystal glass filled with brown liquid.

“You were late,” he finally says.

By one fucking minute, I think to myself. I don’t dare say it out loud. Franklin doesn’t give a shit about minor details like that. He only cares about punishment, and retribution for disappointing him.

I had thought the beating I took from the delivery thug was enough, but apparently, I was wrong.

“Do we need to renegotiate our terms, Johnny?” His words are laced with a threat.

“No,” I spit out immediately. I take a step forward. “What can I do?”

He cocks his head to the side and grins. “Obedient little thing, aren’t you?”

I hate the demeaning tone of his voice, but I’m clearly at an obvious disadvantage here, and the only thing I can do is whatever he asks of me.

Franklin nods toward the dude in the corner. “Another delivery. You have until top of the hour.”

I glance at my watch and fight the urge to panic. “That’s only like twenty minutes.”

Franklin takes another drag of his cigar. “You’re a resourceful kid. You’ll figure it out.”

I swallow down my nerves. “Where am I going?”

"The place off Fifth." He picks up his glass and holds it to his lips. "You'll receive payment upon completion."

That building is over ten blocks away. Easily a fifteen-minute walk. And that’s if I don’t draw any attention to myself or have anything hold me up on the way. Usually, I stop at my house to regroup and come up with a plan, but this time, I’m going to have to go straight from here to there. I don’t enjoy being so unprepared, but in times like this, I have no choice but to go along with what Franklin demands of me.

I shove the bulky package into the waistband of my jeans, revealing part of my torso in the process.

“That looks uncomfortable.” Franklin points toward my bruised side.

“It’s fine,” I lie. In reality, each breath sends a spike of pain through me, but I don’t let him know that. Weakness only fuels him more.

“Good.” Franklin lowers his drink to the table. “The clock is ticking.”

The grungy and smoke-filled air is replaced by a putrid odor upon entering the alley. They’re both equally gross, but being out of Franklin’s line of sight is something I’d favor any day.

Josey stays leaning against the brick building. “You’re still in one piece. I take it things went well.”

“Maybe.” I run possible route options through my head, each of them taking me into areas busier than I’d prefer to be in with a potentially illegal package. I don’t know whether there are drugs or weapons or fucking gummy bears in there, but whatever it is, I can’t get caught with it.

Not if I want my plan to work. If I get caught, all of this will have been for nothing.

I decide on a route, taking off without another wasted second. I glance at the time. I’m going to need a fucking miracle to pull this off.

I dip down the alley and pop into another, blending in with the darkness and praying like hell I don’t run into any trouble.

This is clearly a test. An impossible challenge to show Franklin whether or not I’m going to be an asset or a liability—if I’m worth keeping around. He’s constantly setting me up for failure in hopes I back out or decide I don’t want to be a part of his twisted game anymore.

But instead of giving him what he wants, I run his stupid errands and take the beatings that come my way, surprising him each time with my perseverance.

I never imagined my life becoming what it is, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. And in this situation, I couldn’t continue to stand back and watch what was happening with a clear conscience. I had to do something.

A few minutes pass and I make decent time on getting closer to my destination. I avoid highly trafficked areas and dodge a few of the security cameras I’m aware of. I’m not a perfect criminal, but I do my best with what I can.

And so far, I haven’t been caught.

I pause under a fire escape and study the street ahead. If I cross here and take the alley, I should be smooth sailing the rest of the way.

I step out into the light and blend in with a group of people waiting for the pedestrian sign to signal them. Most of the group cuts left, heading toward the bustling restaurant side of the street, and the rest go right, to the various apartment and condo buildings.

I duck into the darkness ahead and glance over my shoulder to verify no one saw me enter. When I turn, a fist meets my face, knocking me off my feet and onto the soggy ground.

I scramble to my knees, only to be kicked in the ribs and spun around and onto my back. I wince from the new impact to a not-so-old injury. I desperately blink to clear my vision and see my attacker.

Two blurred figures stand above me, their heads covered in ski masks. They're not too much bigger than me, but together, I don't stand a chance.

If I could only get to my feet, maybe I could outrun them. My little bit of a size difference might mean that I’m faster than them. I know these streets like the back of my hand, which might give me an advantage over them.

Another kick to my side knocks the wind out of me. I crawl away, gripping onto a dumpster to help steady me.

Neither of the two says a word, they only continue to come after me.

One of them slams a foot into my back, throwing me headfirst into the metal thing. Warm liquid flows down from my brow and stars appear in my vision.

The biggest of the two grips my shoulder and spins me around, slamming another punch across my face.

I put my arms up to block the incoming hits but it’s no use. They both know what they’re doing, and I’m no match.

The other person fumbles inside my pockets and pulls out the contents.

My wallet, my phone, my keys.

I’m being robbed.

Panic courses through me. I don’t give a shit about my own stuff, but if these thieves take Franklin’s property, I’m a dead man.

I try to wiggle free, but another punch lands on the side of my head, knocking me over and onto the ground. I lay there, unable to move, the entire world spinning and blackness trying to consume me.

I don’t scream for help. That would bring on unwanted attention and risk me getting caught. I fight to stay alert, to stay awake. I cower in an attempt to conceal the precious cargo tucked under my shirt.

I’m thrown onto my back, my shoulders pinned to the ground while the other person pats my body. They stop on the package I’m frantically failing to hide, ripping it out in one solid motion.

A fear unlike anything I’ve known courses through me, but before I can fully process it, another blow comes my way, almost in slow motion this time, sending me spiraling into complete darkness.

It’s not the idea of dying alone in this alley that scares me, or what I’ll have to endure for losing one of Franklin’s packages. It’s the consequences to everyone else involved that frightens me. How can I possibly protect anyone if I can’t even protect myself?

Blood pools in my mouth and trickles down my face. I don’t bother opening my eyes. I couldn’t if I tried. I lay here and wait for the ability to regain enough strength to stand and drag myself home. Only minutes pass, and instead of getting up like I have any other time I’ve had the shit knocked out of me, I float in and out of consciousness.

A soft, concerned voice appears. “Johnny?”

If she’s here, I must be dreaming. And for once, I don’t want to wake up.