“You should be afraid.” I tense my brows at his ignorance and lack of any emotion besides sadistic fury.
“Should I?” He nearly smiles into a snarling grin, making him look almost demonic under the dim streetlights.
“Cut the shit, Adrik. I know your family has been trying to pull back Yakuza for yourself the moment we made an alliance with them.”
“Oh no, you caught us.” He dryly remarks, each word dripping with more sarcasm than the last.
“I’m not here to tell you what we both know. I’m here to tell you what you don’t.” He flares his nostrils and presses his lips together so hard that the corners of his large mouth turn down. “If you keep this shit up, we aren’t gonna stop until every member of your disgusting family is dead. And if you don’t stop, we’ll know.”
“You don’t want to threaten us.”
“Oh, Adrik, I do. I very much do. Because when you mess with one of us, you fucking mess with all of us, and—”
“Is that what you were thinking of when you signed one of your sisters away to Kias?” I nearly bite my tongue from shutting my mouth so hard.
“That shit’s void.”
“Not in our eyes.”
“Kias is dead.”
“I’m fucking aware. But here I am,” He wiggles his fingers under my foot like he’s waving at me with a sarcastic grin. “And, there Espie is--”
“Like hell,” I growl ferociously. “You’re not laying a hand on her.”
“I don’t have to touch her to know that she’s already mine. The moment Kias died, you saw to that. You and your weak, pathetic family.”
“Kill me now, and it will be Blane, then Mav, then Alek. You have a line of brothers to kill before the boss ends up fulfilling the contract himself.”
I’m growing sick to my stomach the more he lays it out plainly for me. Antonio and I were trying to protect, but instead, we sealed one of our sister’s fates forever with the most archaic form of resolution we’ve ever resorted to in the modern day.
“Nothing to say to that?” Adrik squirms again, and I know his entire body is away now.
“Stay the fuck away from the Yakuza.”
“And Espie?”
“Go to hell.” I spit, reaching in my belt and grabbing the taser tool. I press it to his chest and pull the trigger before he can escape my arms. His wriggling stops as he clenches his teeth into a grimace. Growling as the shockwaves hit him.
“Until I retract this taser bullet back to the barrel, it will shock you every time you move a muscle.” He stops fighting it and becomes almost like a statue, looking into my eyes with lust for my death. I’ve only seen this look shot at others, but this is right to me, and I’ve never been more thankful for the reliability of my tech with such a sinister look threatening dastardly intentions.
“Even breathing will be difficult without pain, so I would choose your movements wisely,” I advise, a little too pleased with myself for helping bring Scout’s genius idea to life in the best way I could.
He grunts angrily, but it quickly turns to one of pain, and I slowly stand up, backing away from him, taser gun pointed right at him as I get about five feet of space between us. This is the max distance I was able to get the magnets in the bullet and gun to respond to without causing too large of a margin for backfiring. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s rather incredible nonetheless.
“I’m gonna turn around and leave. But before I do, I’ll take the pain away. Hurt me as I walk away, and your life will be over.”
Quickly, I click the button to retract the taser bullet, and it instantly zooms straight to the barrel with a slight ding to assure me it’s secure. I turn around on my heel and begin sprinting towards the car.
“Get ready to book it,” I call into the walkie, and the car starts up in the distance. Just as I’m about to cross the threshold of the field and leap onto the sidewalk, I hear the clack of a gun. Instinctually, I whip around and barely even blink before it's merely a foot from the center of my head.
Chapter Twenty One:Scout
Isit wrong that I’ve been pacing the floor of my bedroom since Tito left with the others? I shouldn’t be this nervous, shouldn’t be worrying so much when I’ve done worse to him than throwing him into a situation in which he’s fully prepared. It’s been a few hours, and Vince hasn’t heard from anyone.
If I could rely on my gut, and it wasn’t constantly unfaithful to me, I might determine something bad has happened. But I can’t trust my anxiety, especially not when it is so crucial for my sanity. There's a knock at my door, and I sprint to it, opening it up as I bite off the last long nail I have on my pinky finger.
It’s a let-down seeing Espie standing in the doorway, a large mug between her hands. Her long hair is flowing down with the corners of his lips, saddled by my state. Or are they saddened by something else?