The Wrath of Cain (The Syndicate, #1)(57)

“So, now you know who I am,” he sneers, glancing down at me.

I recognize it in his tone, too. They sound so much alike. I’m in such a daze that I don’t even see or hear the other man come around to the opposite side of the bed until I feel a prick in my arm.

“No, Royal! Fuck you! It’s me you want, not her. Fucking leave her alone, God damn you!”

“Manny.”

Is that me talking? Whatever it is they just shot me up with has my head foggy. A euphoric feeling travels through my veins. My skin is burning up, itching everywhere, but I can’t scratch it. I can’t move. At least my body doesn’t hurt anymore. Are they tying my hands down? My legs? I can still hear someone thrashing about, screaming and hollering. I don’t know how long this lasts. Maybe seconds, minutes, hours? I’m alert. At least I think I am.

“Wake up, princess.”

A series of sharp slaps is delivered to my face. I become more aware of the stinging the more I come back to consciousness.

“You had quite a little nap. Now, up you go.”

I start to gag the minute he lifts me up.

“She’s gonna lose it! Toss me that bucket,” he says.

I start to heave. Some of it lands on the floor before the bucket is shoved under my face. I throw up until there is nothing left, and then I dry heave until I feel rawness in my throat. I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand. The acidy bitterness I taste makes me want to puke again. He shoves a glass of what looks like water in my face.

“Drink.”

My throat burns. It hurts worse than anything.

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s water. Believe me, I know you want it. Your throat is so tight, you can hardly breathe. So unless you want more of what Raymond gave you, you will drink this.”

I take a small sip and he forcefully pulls it away. It does nothing to help the burning sensation in my throat.

“Better?” asks the man I know as Scarface.

No, I’m not better, but I’m not about to tell him I want more water. Fuck him.

Then it all comes back. I heard someone say ‘brother.’ I can’t remember who, but I know someone did.

“Manny is your brother?” I ask.

My throat is so dry, it hurts to even talk. His intense orbs glare into mine.

“By blood, yes.”

“I don’t understand. If he’s your brother, then why are you doing this? Why hurt him?”

He chuckles that evil laugh again, his eyes turning cold as ice.

“I’m an outcast to them. The evil one. The f*ck up. And he’s about to get what is rightfully mine. I can’t let that happen. He will die first, princess.”

Why he’s calling me princess has me perplexed. My mom is a princess, not me. I know very little about this life; only what I’ve been told. And no one has told me about him. I can see why. He’s an enemy who has obviously been waiting to strike.

“You look a little mixed up there, Calla.”

The sudden use of my given name shocks me; however, I will not show my fear. I’m the daughter of John Greer. No way will I let my fear be known to this man. I trust my family. Whatever reasons they had for banishing him from the family, I stand by them.

“You’re sick! That’s your brother! He’s my family. You won’t get away with this. Whatever vendetta you have, you may as well give it up now. My dad will find you, you son of a bitch, and when he does, you’re going to wish he hadn’t.”

“You mentioned family. I’m your blood, princess. You know, it really is too bad you and I are on opposite sides. A beautiful woman with a sharp mind can be very dangerous. I could see myself actually liking you.”

“Screw you. You’re not my family. If you mean nothing to them, then you mean even less to me.”

Malice is what I feel for this man, although he’s not really a man at all. I’m now within an inch of his face. His undamaged eye scans me meticulously, observing my strength. All of it comes from being the daughter of John and Priscilla Greer. I may not have known the true lives they have lead, but one thing they taught me was to never show your fear.

“You’re a snake. A cowardly one, at that. I promise you, cousin, you’re going to die from your own venom.”

“Snakes strike when you least expect, Calla. I want you gone just as much as I want my brother gone. And as far as John goes, I want him to come. It’s just too bad that by the time he does find us, my dear little brother will be dead and so will you. I have plans for you. You’ll be gone before they get here and if we’re not, I’ll take care of him. It’s about time he retires, anyway.”

“Fuck off. He’ll destroy you,” I spit at him.

“I’m going to let that slide, just this once. John’s good. Very good. But don’t think for one second that I’m not better. Now, you have a show to watch. Unless you want me to shoot you up with more of this?”

He pulls a syringe out of his back pocket.

“I’m not watching shit. And you can take that and shove it straight up your ass.”

He quirks his brows and shoves the syringe into his pocket again.

“Is my heroin not good enough for you? Do you want something better? Cocaine, perhaps? Crack? You name it, I’ve got it.”

I’m momentarily shocked speechless.