The next dawn nears like the battle of winter in the game of thrones. The comparison would make me laugh if I wasn’t ninety percent sure that my luck would sabotage the only loophole we’ve received. Silas… our saving grace.
I want to believe in him. I even curse myself out for such lack of faith, but mistakes in my past warrant against being too hopeful. If history is meant to do anything, it is to warn us.
The three of us arrive at Jesse’s mansion when the sun has dipped below the horizon. Gut-wrenching Déjà vu blooms within me. My hands produce enough sweat to make my grasp slip from the handle when it’s time to emerge from the last source of safety we have. Levi’s car.
I know there’s no going back. It’s inevitable. This meeting will march forward, regardless of my willingness to participate. I am no longer my own pawn, but that in a game wielded by psychopathic Mafia members.
Missing this won’t protect me from having to move forward in this sickening game of war between us all. It just means I won’t be prepared for the opponent’s attack.
Levi offers his support in the form of his hand on my shoulder squeezing gently. I yearn for more of his touch. The distracting effects of it might just cure the dread rapidly building, but there is no time for that.
We stalk up the vast steps, framed by pristinely trimmed bushes, with a fountain at the peak of the entrance we’ve already moved past. I wipe my hands on my jeans. I have ones that actually fit me now, instead of Levi’s or the dresses he’s given me. Dresses that would only goad the filthy men that work for Jesse.
Granted, Levi’s attempt to dress me like a frumpy man didn’t go over so well last time.
When we arrive at the door, I exchange glances with Silas – and even after the day and a half I’ve spent with the man – I am surprised at the amusement in his eyes. He acts like life is one big joke and he’s the comedian. Like he’s always a step ahead, laughing at the opposition.
It’s intimidating in the strangest sense.
We don’t knock. Silas disregards that form of mannerism and pushes open the door. The maid gasps with shock, clearly already having anticipated our arrival, but not the intrusion of us barging in. She presses thin fingers over her lips, as her eyes widen.
“H-Hello,” She stammers. Levi levels his intense stare upon her and she seems to shrink a few inches – his usual domineering stature doing its job of tearing people down without so much as a threat.
It’s as sexy as it is scary.
“Master Benway is waiting for you,” She replies before she twists and begins walking in the direction of Jesse’s dreaded study. Silas claps his hands together.
“Splendid,” he says mockingly, a cheery tone to his voice that makes Levi’s jaw tense, but he doesn’t say anything. Would you reprimand the man who’s supposed to make the bullshit in your life disappear?
The mansion seems even darker than last time. As if the spirits of those whose blood has helped provide these extravagant walls have come to life. It’s unsettling.
When the maid pulls the door to his study open and gestures inside, I stifle a choked gasp.
Jesse has hired more men.
A lot more.
Each one seems more unhinged than the other. They don’t hide the viciousness of their natures on their expressions. The vulgar thoughts are clearly portrayed in the way they lick their lips and bare their teeth like wolves ready for the kill.
But they’ve underestimated Levi’s disregard for his own safety and his twisted enjoyment of pain.
He doesn’t cower beneath their stares. Neither does Silas. I’m the only one who winces from the brute force of violent energy that blasts into me from the present company.
I’m the weakest, my father would tease.
Yet he suckled on the teet of a bottle of grey goose just to get by.
Who’s the weaker one now?
Levi grabs a hold of my arm, yanking me into his side. A blatant form of a territorial claim that Jesse notes with an arched brow of curiousness and an amused expression.
“He steers her around like she’s a puppy on a leash,” Jesse says through cackles. The surrounding men laugh along with him and my throat goes dry.
“Are we here for some light comedy?” Silas prods. Jesse’s laughter dies, and what’s replaced makes the hairs on my body stand on end. That soulless glare. He rests it on Silas, and it shockingly appears to have no effect.
“Don’t mock me, boy,” Jesse sneers. “I took you under my wing. A pathetic kid on the street with no real direction. And look at you now. Consorting with the enemy,” Jesse spits at him with disgust.
“You didn’t take me under your wing for the good fucking Karma, Jesse. You wanted something to occupy your time. Another amusing pet to poke at and do your bidding. I was your experiment,” Silas concludes.
Jesse’s nostrils flare with rage and he sends a box of what I deduce is cigars flying off his desk. “You were nothing but a conniving little scumbag then and you will die a nothing little scumbag now.”
“Enough, Jesse,” Levi hisses. That’s when Jesse's attention finally returns to him as if he'd forgotten we were here. Silas must’ve really pissed him off. Jesse clicks his tongue and shakes his head.
“You’ve murdered one of my men, Levi,” Jesse states while widening his arms. Tension builds in the room; men place their hands on steel I catch a glimpse of at their sides. Guns. Knives. Weapons.
Jesse has planned for this to be a bloody visit.
“Now, I will hold you down while my men rape your little bitch, and then they will cut into her until there is nothing left and make you eat the fucking pieces!” He spews at Levi. Regardless of Levi’s hardened exterior, the mention of vulgar acts being committed against me makes him shudder with anger.
His hold tightens on me unconsciously as a result of the threats.
“You’ll have to pry her from my cold dead fucking hands.”
Jesse’s mouth forms a ghastly smile. “With joy.”
Just as Jesse nods to one of his men, the maid bursts through the doors. A blood-curdling scream leaves her lips, blood is soaked into her uniform, terror destined to be the last expression on her face as she falls to her knees on the floor of the study, staining the wood.
“What the fuck?” Jesse snarls. Silas holds up a finger, that devious grin on his face once again.
“Ah, ah, ah, Jesse,” Silas goads. “One more move and she won’t be the only one with bullet holes decorating her attire.”
Jesse’s fingers dig into the desk. He side-glances at some of his men before he holds up a hand to stop them from starting a war Jesse hadn’t anticipated.
“What the fuck is going on?” Jesse asks through a clenched jaw. Silas taps his chin in mock contemplation before he responds.
“Well, first off, I killed that piece of shit Shriver. You always coddled him even though he was fucking stealing from you.” Silas laughs when Jesse’s face falls.
“What?” Jesse snarls. “I don’t believe a word out of your filthy fucking mouth!”
Silas shrugs. “Believe me or don’t. I have no reason to lie and you’re not exactly in a position to decide whether it’s the truth or not.”
I shriek when Silas whips out a gun in the blink of an eye and fires a shot into the skull of a man sitting near a window on the right of Jesse’s desk. Blood splatters the glass and the men nearby him. The man drops, hitting the floor louder than the maid. Angered growls of others stir, but Silas ignores them.
“He was trigger happy. He wasn’t going to listen to you. Even after you held up your hand he pulled his weapon out. I won’t have casualties on my end because you’ve hired poorly trained men.”
I have a strange new respect for Silas.
Levi’s thumb strokes my arm to calm me with the hand that’s holding me firmly to his side.
“How the fuck are you doing this? Who shot her!” Jesse booms, slamming his hands down on the desk. Levi and Silas don’t even flinch.
“Oh, my father’s men, of course,” Silas concludes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Jesse’s eye is practically twitching. He’s like a frustrated teen not in on the joke.
“Your father?” He spits with venom. “Who the fuck is your father?”
Silas presses the hand with the gun against his chest like he’s hurt that Jesse doesn’t know, and chuckles.
“Ya know, it says a lot about a mafia leader when he can’t even uncover he’s mentoring the opposition.” Silas sighs, and as if cued by something, men flood into the room with guns pointed at Jesse and his men.
“No, you’re lying!”
Silas widens his arms. “I’m afraid not.”
“You are the son of Elias Lombardo?” Jesse grits his teeth, he’s furious.
“Guilty!” He sing-songs excitedly, and despite all my instincts that ward away from being hopeful, I begin to allow myself a piece of faith.