Damaged Goods

“Good lord, Keir, go clean up,” Ky said, looking pained by the growing mess on the carpet. As soon as he walked away, I got up and grabbed some tissues from the end table and the small waste bin nearby, cleaning up the mess.

“As much as I love seeing your ass in the air like that, Kitten, don’t do that,” Ky ordered, standing and walking out of the room. A few moments later, he came back with a spray bottle and a stained rag.

“What’s in it?” I asked, watching as the mixture bubbled when it hit the floor, the blood tinting the bubbles red before he started to scrub.

“Can’t tell you. It’s an old Grandma Adrostos recipe,” Killian joked, though the ensuing silence underscored the truth beneath his retort. Rolling my eyes, I climbed back on the couch, the distraction already helping me calm down. I felt so stupid for leaving myself vulnerable like that; it could have cost me my life… though that might not have been the worst thing.

Unable to stop it, I let out a yawn and snuggled into the plush couch, my eyes drifting closed despite trying to avoid it.

What felt like hours later, I woke to the sound of yelling. Startled, I was off the couch and grabbing for my dagger, only to remember where I was and that it was safely tucked in my boots by the front door. Blinking around at the pristine, classy apartment, I noticed it was night now. The dim light from a nearby lamp was all that illuminated the minimalist decor. The whole room had a similar vibe to the club’s lounge, though it was black, white, and silver this time.

Before I could explore, the front door slammed closed and the voices died out, but I was far too curious at this point to not follow. Moving as quietly as possible, I secured my dagger, pulled on my boots, and followed the guys out into the foyer, staying out of sight until the elevator closed. The icons above the doors flicked on and off until stopping on the basement level.

Not wanting to give myself away, I looked for the fire stairs, which weren’t hard to find since the lobby to their floor was fairly small in comparison, and started my descent. My feet echoed on the cement stairs as I climbed steadily down the six floors to the basement. The heavy metal door was unlocked, which was honestly a miracle in a place like this. Or a mistake that’ll be paid for with someone’s life. Mafia men weren’t known for being trusting. Unfortunately for me, no sooner had it closed behind me than someone walked out of the opposite door, eyes locking on me immediately. Before I could even grab for my gun, his was trained on me. Once again, I cursed myself for not having mine out, but I didn’t think I’d need it in their fucking building.

“How the fuck did you get in here?!” he yelled, his loud voice echoing off of the cement walls.

“I’m—” I started to explain, but he lunged forward, his gun slamming into my cheek and sending me flying into the wall. It hurt like a bitch, but it was the perfect opportunity to grab my gun, which I had out of my harness, the safety off, by the time he registered it. “If you would have let me speak,” I said, licking at the blood trickling onto my lip and growling, “I would have told you I was with the triplets, you fucking dick.”

“They didn’t tell me anyone was here. Don’t fucking lie to me, you little whore!” he screamed as his finger hit the trigger. I dodged away just fast enough for it to graze my arm instead of my chest. Before he could try again, I took aim and hit the trigger, my aim perfect despite the awkward angle and quick decision. Within seconds, the life was draining out of his eyes, and the idiot was dead before he even hit the floor. He’s lucky it was by my hand. The second he struck me, he signed his own death notice, and the triplets wouldn’t have been nearly as nice as I was. I froze as the blood started to pool around his limp body, ears straining for any noise that would indicate incoming backup, but it was silent. Deciding it was safe, I crouched down and grabbed his gun, holding it in my other hand as I carefully opened the door, stepping into the next empty room. Well, mostly empty. There was only a desk on the other side and a small hallway not far from it. Bypassing the desk that I assumed was a guard station, I went down the hall. There were two rooms, but the first appeared to be for storage, a bunch of cleaning supplies inside. I closed it and went for the second, peering in the window first.

The scene in front of me was gruesome. A man was braced to the chair in the middle of the cement room, bloody and nearly unrecognizable. Keir cut into his flesh with a look of sadistic delight on his face. It was a scene I’d lived before and one I had tried to forget. It was easy to simply ‘forget’ the darker side to them, but this was a glaring sign I couldn’t ignore. It hit too close to home, and I wanted no part of it. The Priamos and Adrostos families might be driven by different motivations, but the blood on their hands and the demons in their hearts were all too similar and a price I wasn't sure my soul could afford to pay. I need to get out of here.

Swallowing back my anger and frustration, I ducked down before they saw me and retraced my steps, heading for the stairs and taking them to the first floor. Taking advantage of the empty entryway, I hurried out through the main doors.

Fuck.

Noting my surroundings, I realized that they clearly lived across town, the area around me unrecognizable. It was still and quiet outside, unlike my own neighborhood or even the nicer ones by the club, but then again, when you had an actual torture chamber downstairs, you needed the utmost discretion.

Pulling out my phone, I called for an Uber, happy to see the wait was only five minutes. If I was lucky, they’d be down there longer than that. When the Charger pulled up, I checked the plates and climbed in the back, happy when he didn’t speak outside of a quick hello. Either the darkness hid my split cheek, he was discreet enough not to ask, or he had no desire to invite drama into his life. I didn’t know which one, but I was glad that I didn’t have to come up with some fumbling explanation for my latest injury.

Otsana: I had to leave. I don’t want this life, so I’m out. Sorry about your guy… but he started it.

Part of me should probably care that I was leaving again, knowing they’d follow this time, but the bratty side of me didn’t give a fuck. I'd left that life behind, and seeing that torture session was a glaring reminder that I’d have to pay dearly for these years of freedom.

When the Uber stopped outside of my apartment, I hurried into the decrepit entryway, eager to get behind locked doors. I could practically feel them stalking me and needed some semblance of safety. Especially after today. Someone had come and fixed the keypad, so I entered my code, rushing inside and up to my floor as quickly as possible without seeming like a psycho. It was a fine line that I knew well.

Once the lock on my apartment door clicked behind me, I let out a sigh of relief... until the light flicked on and a familiar figure stepped forward, arms crossed and anger in their eyes.

/>

Killian

“Let’s wrap this up as quickly as possible,” Kyrell said as we watched Keir lean in, knife in one hand and our victim, Steven’s tongue between the gloved fingers of the other. The guy was working with Victor and deserved everything he had coming. He’d always held a grudge against Timothy, so his involvement wasn’t a shock, and the fact that Victor had squealed before he was killed, only sealed his fate.

Victor using his own brother was beyond fucked up; we were mafia, but we were also fucking loyal to our family. His betrayal was a disgrace to the entire Adrostos bloodline, which was why we’d let his own father decide his fate. Uncle T had us torture Victor as he watched, which couldn’t have been easy, but as soon as the traitor told us the details, Uncle T put a gun to his son’s face and pulled the trigger without even a word of goodbye.

Victor being murdered by his own father was poetic justice all on its own.

Before I could respond to Ky, my phone went off. Pulling it out, I read the notification, my blood running cold. Not again. Nope, she was fucking lying to herself if she thought she’d get to run away again.

“She’s gone,” I said, my voice sounding hollow as I tried to fight off the rage building within me. “She says she doesn’t want this life, so she left. And sorry about our guy?” The last part confused me until I realized Terrance was the only man we had in the building this time of night. Fuck, she must have gotten into the basement somehow. Damnit, now we need a replacement guard. If bodies kept piling up like this, we’d need to expand the damn family.

“She what?” Keir asked, his voice like ice, detached and full of barely suppressed madness.

“She’s gone,” I confirmed even though I knew it was a rhetorical question. My gaze turned to Kyrell, whose fist had tightened around the brass knuckles in his grip, the metal cutting in until blood slowly dripped onto the floor.

An inhuman scream ripped from Keir’s throat, followed by a strangled yell from a frantic Steven as my brother tightened his hold on the man’s tongue. He put everything he had into pulling it out, the inevitable loud pop of tearing tissue accompanied by a disturbing squelch that was almost too much for me. Never thought I’d live to see that day, but Keir always was in a league of his own, crazy bastard.