“Darlin’, most men you see wearin’ a cut aren’t nice. We’re assholes that do shit just because we can,” I inform her.
“Like standing with random girls that are holding a bomb?”
“Don’t take it that way. This is our territory. I can’t let you blow the fuck up around here.” Her smile fades slightly and I feel like an ass. Then again, that’s kind of what I do.
“How long you owned this place?” She doesn’t look at me right away and I get why. Finally, she blows out a breath and looks up.
“You don’t have to stay. I think I’ll be fine waiting on your friends.”
“I said I wasn’t goin’ anywhere, didn’t I?” The words come out a little harsher than I meant them to.
“This is so fucked up. I can’t believe after everything I’ve been through this happens!” Her fear has turned to anger, and it shocks me a little. I’m curious about this girl and I can’t figure out why. Maybe because she breaks the traditional mold.
“What have you been through?” She ignores me. “Better question, one that’s been botherin’ me since that night—why didn’t you seem fazed that we killed a man in front of you?” I don’t speak loud enough for anyone else to hear and I’m sure whoever did this wasn’t smart enough to set up any mics either. Trina’s eyes find mine and hold for a long second.
“I’ve killed before,” she mumbles.
“You did what now?”
“I said I’ve killed before. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I also didn’t give a shit.” Shock. That’s what I’m feeling. The little baker girl is also a killer. Who the fuck would have thought? She’s in there baking up cupcakes and slicing throats.
“Who the hell did you kill? A fly?” No, there is no way this girl killed anyone.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Oh, do tell, Martha Stewart. I can’t wait to hear this,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at her. I need to hear the story. She gives me a dirty look before licking her lips.
“My stepdad didn’t like me much. Mom worked all the time and didn’t see it. He would come into my room…” she trails off not needing to say anymore. I curse under my breath. “Anyway, as I got older, I started to fight back. Then when I was sixteen, he came after me. It was a fight and I was ready for it. I had a knife and I knew; I knew I would kill him if he came after me again.”
“What happened?”
“He came in my room and I said no. I didn’t want him to touch me but the closer he came, the more I knew. When he grabbed me, I stabbed him. Over and over. Anyway,” she says shaking her head to rid the reminder, “I have a fear of small spaces now. I don’t like being cornered. I blame him.”
“You fuckin’ killed him. Good. I’m glad you did that. Stand up for yourself. No man should do that to a woman. I’m proud of you.”
13
Katrina
His guys got here hours ago. Just like Freak told them, they set up a perimeter, and no one has come down here since. The sky is lit up by the moon, but there’s also a streetlight here in this alley. It’s bright enough for what they need but not to draw attention.
“Freak, come here,” Grave, the prez calls to him. He nods at me and turns to walk away while the other guy runs a machine over the box. Freak’s guys got here earlier but the bomb dude just showed up not long ago.
“How much longer is this going to take?” I ask. My muscles burn from holding them in this position for the past five hours. My legs are begging for a break after standing for work and now this.
“As long as it takes. They weren’t shittin’ you. There’s a bomb in there and now I need to figure out how it’s wired.” His words don’t do anything to ease my nerves. Instead, it makes them worse. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and my hands begin to shake.
“Fuck,” Reggie mumbles under his breath. “Freak! Get the fuck over here!” I don’t need to look up to know he’s standing here. I can feel that man. His presence is suffocating but not in a bad way.
“What?” Reggie nods toward my hands that are now trembling a little more.
“Fuck.” Freak starts to move toward me when Switch walks up. Sadly, I’ve learned who everyone is over the course of the five hours. He looks at Freak, then back to me before he smirks.
“You know what you’re doin’?” Freak stops and looks up at him a little confused when Grave comes back.
“The fuck is this?” he asks, nodding toward Freak.
“She’s shakin’,” he informs them.
“You realize that if that shit can’t be disarmed, you’re goin’ too, yeah?” Grave holds Freak’s glare for a long second before Freak moves. I can feel his body behind me, but I have no idea what the hell he’s doing back there.
“You doin’ okay?” he asks me. I shake my head, and he chuckles, pressing closer. “I need you to be still and I know the dumb fuck, Reggie, probably told you that’s a real bomb in that box but I still need you stay still.” I don’t say anything because frankly, what the hell do I say to that?
“Listen to me, sweetheart. I’m gonna put my arms around you and help you hold that box. I know your arms are screaming to stop but you can’t. You get me?”
“Yeah. Oka-okay.” I hate that my voice is shaking, and I hate that whoever did this is probably out there laughing right now. Freak moves closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around me. He slowly moves his hands around my sides until I feel his hands resting over mine.
“I got you now. Relax a little and let me hold you,” he whispers in my ear. Grave laughs, throwing his head back but Preacher doesn’t. He studies me and Freak intently but never says a word. I slowly try to relax my sore muscles, but I’m afraid of letting go. I’m afraid that if he doesn’t have a good enough grip, the box is going to fall and I’m going to die in an explosion. Fear isn’t unknown to me. I’ve felt it many times before, but this time is different.
“Trina? What’s that short for?” he asks.
“Katrina.”
“That’s a good name. Sexy,” he says, his warm breath dancing over my skin. This shouldn’t be turning me on. I know that, but for some sick reason, it is.
“Gonna cut into it,” Reggie announces, and I go stiff. Freak leans down, his warm lips near my ear.
“Tell me somethin’ about you.”
“Like what?” I don’t know what to say. I’ve already told him more about me than I’ve ever told anyone including Abby. My stomach cramps as I think about her. I’m just glad she isn’t here to see this happen.
“Anything. What’s your favorite color?” His hands don’t move, pressing against mine tightly. I try not look when Reggie starts slowly cutting into the box. A sob escapes my throat and Freak presses into me tighter. “Close your eyes, darlin’. Do it for me.” I nod slowly and close my eyes, his distraction helping, momentarily.
“Good girl. Now tell me your favorite color?”