The Wrath of Cain (The Syndicate, #1)(59)

“We have unfinished business. I need you awake. Come on, brother.”

Manny says nothing. His eyes are almost dead. I fear for his life now, this man who is my husband’s best friend. My cousin. He has kept me safe for years and now I have no way of helping him.

I don’t know where Manny gets the strength, but all of a sudden he rears his head forward even with the tight grip on his hair and slams his forehead into Royal’s nose. Blood pours out and Royal stumbles back, stunned.

“Fuck you, Royal. You can do whatever the hell you want to me, but you will never control Dad’s empire. You will die right along with me.”

Royal straightens up, wiping the blood from his nose.

“So, you’re not such a little * after all. Let’s see how much you got left in you after I do this?”

He punches Manny swiftly in the gut, causing him to jerk forward as if he is trying to catch his breath. I scream behind the tape as Royal picks up that long knife, studying it for a bit. He looks his brother dead in the eye.

“I think I need to send a message to Mom and Dad, don’t you?”

Oh, no. Please, no. I can’t bear to watch this. Manny’s hands are tied to the arms of the chair. With one swift and heavy swing of the knife, Royal chops one of Manny’s fingers off.

A chilling cry echoes through the room. I’m nearly suffocating from my tears. Manny is rocking the chair back and forth violently as he tries to get a grip on the pain. I swear I can feel it. I observe the blood trickling onto the floor, trying to count every drop. There’s just way too many. It won’t stop bleeding.

“Bandage him up. Leave her there and then come outside.”

Royal is holding his brother’s severed finger in his hand. He’s abhorrent, immoral. How could he do such a thing to his own brother? I scrutinize the knife when he drops it on the floor. How I wish I could pick it up and carve his darkened heart out of his chest.

“Do not touch her. You hear me?”

I almost wish Raymond would get close enough to touch me. I would do my damnedest to kill him, and then go after Royal and Emerald.

I will not show my fear.

I will not show my fear.

I will not show my fear.

Stone-cold eyes give me one last ‘I told you so’ look.

“You should have stayed in Canada, princess.”

I watch him with baited breath, struggling to hold back my tears. All I can see in my mind is Cain’s handsome face. The way he holds me and touches me. He and my parents have tried to protect me from this for all these years. This is exactly what they had been afraid of. The despicable, unhuman people in this world. People who have no conscience and no morals. People who turn on their family. I will never give up on them.

Royal grabs a laptop and slams the lid closed, then strides out and slams the door behind himself, leaving me alone with Raymond and a crying, screaming Manny.

“I bet you’re one hell of a f*ck. I’m itching to touch you, but instead, I will give you more of this.”

A syringe appears in my vision. I shake my head back and forth. Then I feel it. The slow, burning feeling in my veins. Like a warm hug from a loved one. The tape is ripped off of my face. My eyelids become heavy.

“Don’t sleep too long, princess.”

I don’t know how or when I fall asleep after that, but I do. It’s a restless sleep filled with nightmares of the torture I’ve witnessed. All I do know for sure is that Manny and I are alone now. It’s dark in this cold, dreary room. I think Manny is calling my name. Or is it another dream?

“Calla.” I hear it again. “Son of a bitch. Calla!”

I know I’m making sounds. I can hear them. They may be muffled, and more like grunts, but I’m trying. My head is heavy. My body feels warm and tingly, like an ocean wave is flowing over my skin. It leaves and comes right back again. I shouldn’t feel this good. Am I high? No, I can’t be.

I’m right here, Manny. Over here, I keep saying.

Why can’t he hear me? Where is he and why does he sound so strange? He sounds like he’s hurting. He’s in pain.

“Calla.”

I jolt up. I’m shivering with cold. My stomach rolls once again and all I can do is dry heave, gagging and coughing until I feel like I’m crushing my ribs.

“Manny.”

“Oh, thank Christ. You’re alive.”

The agony in his voice mixed with the pain in my shoulder has me bawling. I cannot control it anymore.

“Shh. Calla, listen to me. Please stop crying. I need… I need you to be strong. You have to listen to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” I sniffle.

“Calla. You cannot show weakness. You have to be strong if you want to get out of here alive.” His tone has now turned to misery. “No matter what they say or what they do to you. You do not say a thing. Do you hear me?”

“Yes. Are you okay?” I manage to get out.

“I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I’m fine. They keep drugging me with heroin, though. I hate it.”

“That’s his drug of choice, always has been, even when we were younger. I’m surprised he hasn’t overdosed on that shit yet.”

I hear him let out a heavy sigh. Oh, how I wish I could see him and make sure he really is all right.