Rebirth (RAW Family 3)

The dilapidated warehouse was old news. I’d been here hundreds of times before. It was actually where Tama and I first met through a mutual friend, who told Tama Hariana about my specialty. A specialty he just happened to have need of.

I was a mercenary. A gun for hire, and a damned good one too. I learnt from the best, training with the worst of people who gave me the edge I needed to get a foot up in a world that wanted to step on me, weighing me down until I sunk into the cold, hard ground.

Made a name for myself by sixteen, and by eighteen, they started to call me Quickbeat. I don’t know who started that, but it caught on, and while, once upon a time, people would shout my name openly, they started to whisper it.

I’d by lying if I said I didn’t like that.

They were waiting for me outside. There were four of them, huge Maori men, but I only had my eyes on one.

The one.

I sped into the lot, Cardi B’s “I Like It” blaring from the speakers. The subwoofer made the entire back windshield vibrate with the heavy bass that made my heart stop. I needed to get revved, and music helped me out in that department.

It had been a while since I’d done this.

Big Red roared when I hit the accelerator and spun the steering wheel, leaning into the door as the car drifted sideways, and I watched with a smirk as gravel sprayed the men, forcing them to cover their faces with their arms. I stopped the car suddenly, switching it off and stepping out with a shit-eating grin, bumping the door closed with my butt and slinking over to them confidently.

I looked over the guys. I knew them all.

Hemi, the giant teddy bear, was there. He jerked his chin at me.

Amoho did not spare me a smile. That was fair. I looked at him hard as he glared at me.

Kawana’s face was soft, but he didn’t greet me either.

That sucked.

I loved Kawana. He was my boy.

When my eyes landed on Tama, I stood in front of the huge, muscled man. His 6’3” height was a contrast to my 5’5”, but I held my own, standing tall and folding my arms across my chest. My melodic voice was so deceiving. It always had been. “Tama.” I looked him up and down, pausing over his crotch before lifting my eyes to his. “You look good.”

He did. My God, did he ever.

Tama was 275 pounds of pure muscle. His chest was wide. His shoulders were wider. I’d always considered this man a god. A vengeful god, and his black stare was on me. The tattoos on his face made him look terrifying, but all I wanted to do was run my fingers over them and trail them with kisses.

When he opened his mouth, the words came out rough and my entire body broke out in goose bumps. “Why did you come?”

Because you asked me to.

Because I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.

Because I will never love anyone the way I love you.

I shrugged, my eyes never leaving his. “The price was right.” My tone lowered. “Speaking of which....”

Tama reached behind him, and momentarily, my heart stopped.

I was outmanned, outnumbered, and outranked.

Oh, wow.

It was stupid to come here.

Faster than a lightning strike, I had both of my Glocks pointed at him, unblinking, and the asshole grinned, throwing the bundled wad of cash at my feet.

He did that on purpose, and with my idiotic display, I had revealed my anxiousness. And Tama was counting on it. He knew me well.

Shit.

Tama was mocking me. Even more so, when he said, “What do you need money for? Nappies for that boy of yours?”

I didn’t respond. I barely blinked. But I lowered my weapons and holstered them. Trying to peer around them, I uttered, “What’s the go?”

His hair was immaculately pulled up into a traditional topknot, worn immaculately, and when he let out a soft sigh, he lowered his massive arms. “I want her dead.”

My brow furrowed. “That all?”

He could have done that himself.

Tama looked down his nose at me. “I want her to suffer.”

Ah. There it was.

Tama didn’t torture women.

No. He left that to me.

I nodded. “No problem. Who is she?” His response was to give me no response at all, and after an intense staring contest, my feet moved. Leaving the money on the ground, I passed him, whispering, “Fair enough.”

The warehouse was dim except for the single light trained on the woman strapped to the chair in the center of the empty floor.

Poor bitch.

I wonder what she had done to warrant the wrath of Tama Hariana?

But then my mind went to the money and only one thought stuck.

Who cares?

It was a rough life, ours, and not many people could understand how we did it. Ethics were just blurred lines to me, to Tama. They weren’t rules exactly, just suggestions we chose whether or not to follow.

Sometimes we did; sometimes we didn’t.

For the right price, anything could be bought. Even death.

And that’s where I came in.

I strolled over to the woman, who was dressed in an oversized black jacket, black, generic sweats, and her feet were bare. Her head was covered with a loose calico bag, and from the way she struggled and strained, her screams muffled, they had taped her mouth over.

Good.

I didn’t want to hear it. It could be fucking distracting at times. I didn’t need that.

“Sorry, love,” I told her quietly. “Nothing personal. It’s just business.”

Taking the knife out of my leg wrap, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the leather gloves, putting them on before reaching to my neck and pulling up the black face cover up over my nose. The only reason I wore this was to protect myself from infected blood touching me. I was always careful, but you never knew the people you were dealing with.

As I pressed the tip of the knife into the woman’s hand, and she tipped her head back and shrieked from behind the covering.

My heart raced.

Her entire body shook, and I removed the knife from the center of her hand, then muttered, “I don’t know what you did to piss him off, but I promise I’ll end it as soon as I can.”

I didn’t dig cruelty. I wasn’t cruel by nature.

I was made this way.

When I peered back to find all four men forming a wall, my heart jolted.

That was odd.

Why did I feel they were locking me in?

The woman in the chair called out around her cries, and I swear, there was a familiarity about her. My brow lowered and I looked back to Tama, wiping the blade of the knife clean with my leather gloves. “Who is she, Tama?”

Tama shook his head. “Someone who needs to die.”

I twisted back to the woman and frowned at the way she tried to move her hands. They shook so badly, but she tried in vain to move them, making the motion over and over again, but I didn’t see what she needed me to.

Something made me feel uneasy. Looking back at how the men were guarding the exit, I peered back at the woman, and when I stepped closer to her, reaching out for the calico face covering, Tama warned gently, “You touch that mask and I swear to God, Molly, I’ll fucking kill you.”

My heart raced. My breathing turned heavy, and I watched the woman with wide eyes. When she moved her fingers into a twisted motion that took me back to my childhood, a choked gasp left me and I rushed forward.

It was an M. She formed it with shaking fingers and my heart stopped.

When the sounds of heavy footfalls followed close behind, I rushed to her, threw myself onto her lap, using her as a seat while I shielded her and, legs spread, my entire body shook with pent-up rage. I lifted my Glocks, and they stilled in their tracks.

Tama walked forward, and my voice shuddered. “How could you?”

He simply watched me, and he did this a while before he spoke calmly, “That’s the price you pay, Molly.” The words were em

otionless, cold. “A sister for a brother.”

Motherfucker.

Standing on shaking legs, I held his stare. “I’m taking my sister and I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not,” said Tama.

But from behind him came a barely audible, “Yes, she is.”

My heart thumped.

Twitch.

Tama and his men stepped back from the unarmed man, and when Twitch spoke again, he looked directly at Tama. “You know me?”

Tama’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, bruh.”