Let Me Protect You

Chapter 1

Things just happen. Even if we don't want them to, it is inevitable that there is always going to have a reaction to every action. The exact reason why I'm here. It is just a reaction to someone else's actions.

But, I'm not supposed to be here. I'm only 18, I should be helping my friend pick out college dorm furniture and getting ready for prom. But, I'm in the kitchen of a rundown apartment with 3 men I don't know and a woman that goes by the name of Destiny. I have been with Destiny for almost 2 years now. She is a petite, Latino 22 year old with long, pin straight, jet black hair and she is the closest thing I have to family. We sit at the table in only our bras and underwear, and in front of us is the job we were told to do. Cutting cocaine.

Why are we in our bras and underwear? Less places to steal the drugs. As if I want to. I put the mask on and start cutting. I don't know if it is the men around us watching our every move or the huge, brights lights shining on us, but I was sweating bullets. Every once in a while the men would come and kiss our necks or grope us in some way, it's not like we can cringe in disgust or tell them to stop. Destiny seems to like it, me on the other hand, I was trying not to throw up in my mask.

As I chop the cocaine into powder, I look at the small razor blade and think back on the last two years. I have been living in hell ever since that son of a bitch traded in his own sister in exchange for some drug money. They still killed him to this day, I still don't care that he is 6 feet under. I learned at a young age that if you can't trust family, you can't trust anyone. I thought Jason was an exception, he never ceased to amaze me.

Coming back to reality I continued to cut. I found myself still watching the razor, how easily it can cut through the brown rock. Brown. Dirty, impure. It's just like me. I find myself looking at my wrist. How easy it would be to end this hell. Maybe if I get blood on the powder they will do the job for me.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door and the man with the scar stands up and say something in Spanish to another with spiked hair. Spike got up and looked through the peep hole of the front door and responds with something else Spanish. They have their conversation and Destiny listens in and doesn't seem nervous or upset so I calm down a bit.

I hear the conversation get closer and I see them enter the kitchen with a very handsome man. Correction, he was an Adonis, black curly hair, still sun kissed skin even in the middle of November. His eyes were two emeralds, his lips were full and inviting, and his body was like he was photoshopped, although covered by a long sleeve shirt and jeans, one can see the outline of his abs and his pecks.

I was drawn from yet another thought by Destiny hitting me in the shoulder, her way of telling me not to stare. I take one last glance at him and he is already looking at me, thirst in his eyes and a sly smirk on his mouth.

"What is your name, beautiful?" His Spanish accent makes me melt.

"Amelia." I answer. "Amelia Rose."

"Pleasure, Nicolas. Nicolas Alexander." With that he walks into another room with Spike and Scar and closes the door behind him. Leaving us with the mini terminator. I swear this guy could break someone's hand just by giving them a high five. Despite his height of only 5'0", he was about 250 pounds of pure muscle, and he was terrifying.

Nicolas reappears without the other two and says something Spanish to mini Arnold. He then leans down and whispers in my ear "Ms. Amelia Rose, how would you feel about taking a little road trip with me?"

Not used to telling a man no, I agree. "Can Destiny come?"

"No, sweetheart. Just you, and I promise nothing bad will happen to you." He said almost a whisper.

"How do I know you're not like the rest of them?" I whispered back. Obviously this man was important because mini Arnold didn't take a second glance to our conversation.

"I'm not one of them." What you're the boss? I thought to myself "And I'm not the boss either. I'm Miguel's brother. The one with the scar on his cheek."

"Why should I trus-"

"I will keep you safe."

"But, I just met you."

"True, but that doesn't automatically make me a bad guy. You want to be safe right?"

I look over at Destiny who has tears rolling down her cheeks. She nods her head as if telling me to go, I know she hates it here but she has always looked out for me and has always put me first. She is my only family, I can't leave her.

"What the fuck do you think you are still doing here? And why are you talking to my bitch?" Miguel says as he storms out the room obviously high.

In one swift motion, I was picked up and being carried out the front door. I was set down outside and Nicolas told me to run, as he went back inside to fight off Miguel, and that's exactly what I did. But, before I did I needed to say goodbye to Destiny and when I looked in I instantly regretted it. She was trying help and stop Miguel and as I looked in there was a gun to her head. The gun went off and as if it was slow motion I saw tears roll down her head, blood, and her body went limp.

"No!" I exclaim in pure horror. Nicolas sees me, gets a small duffle bag off the counter and runs out of the apartment. He sweeps me up bridal style and puts the duffle bag on my stomach. He runs carefully down the stairs with only Miguel and Arnold following closely behind and places me into his car. We somehow end up out the parking lot with minimal physical wounds and only a few bullet dents in the car.

"I am so sorry, Amelia. None of that was supposed to happen. But, if I didn't take you, they would have done cruel things to you. I wouldn't let that happen."

"Why didn't you take Destiny! She was killed and she could have been saved if we just took her!"

"David wouldn't let me take her. He said he loved her. Miguel didn't want me to take either of you two. But, especially not you. He was too fucked up to realize what David was saying. Miguel told me what he planned on doing to you and only you, I couldn't let it happen. I am so so sorry, mi amor."

I cried myself asleep that night, in the backseat of his car. Listening to his constant apology. Nothing could make this up to me. Nothing. He kept calling me "mi amor." My love. That's what I am to him? He is in for a rude awakening.