Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 35 - Disclarity of Truth

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART TWO: Memories That Don't Seem To Fade

Chapter 35 - Disclarity of Truth

"I can't," Ally whispered back, her heart breaking as she saw his face fall.

However, she knew that a simple denial would not stop him. Kyle would keep trying to earn her trust back until she accented. In order to save him pain, she needed to push him away and give him one clean break. "I care about you Kyle, maybe even to the point of love, but I'm not in love with you anymore." She paused to let the blow sink in. "And I don't think I ever will be again."

Kyle turned away from her, his shoulders shaking slightly as if he was holding back a sob. "I understand, I'm only a friend now." He shook his head, an act that made her wish she could comfort him. "I messed up and now that's all I'll ever be."

He turned his back on her then, something she was not used to seeing from him. If she had to be honest with herself, it hurt.

The door locked behind him and Ally let her sob echo through the room. She was angry, causelessly angry, with no one but herself. Tears streaked her face, something that seemed to have become a common occurrence in recent days. A loud cry rose from the back of her throat, a tortured sound full of pain and loss.

She had to find an escape, an outlet of some sort that would afford her some relief from the torture of the past. She could not bare the weight of that life once again. It would surely destroy her.

Ally pulled desperately at the handcuff enclasping her wrist, trying to pry the offending circlet off until her skin was raw and red. A thin trickle of blood ran down from where she had accidentally clawed her skin with a nail but still she did not stop.

She could almost hear their cries in her mind, the innocents that she had been unable to save because she was unable to save even herself. Then, she heard the pleadings of her father as he tried to beg for her mother's life to be spared. Like the metal cutting into her skin, the captor of her past had not given any leniency.

He had tortured them for hours and then, when he grew bored with their cries, shot them both in cold blood. Then, he had stroked a hand down her young neck and uttered one single sentence that caused Ally's blood to run cold. "Give my regards to your brother, tramp."

He had left her alive for one purpose and one purpose only: to convey that message to her brother, a message that insinuated he was not yet finished. It was only after this that her brother had turned abnormally protective, smothering her with his care. It was also the first time she had heard mention of the name Adam Soverage or his gang, the Silent Assassins.

Suddenly, it was too much for her to handle. Seeing no other option, Ally grabbed the book on her bedside stand and began to slam it down on the offending handcuffs with little regard for her own health. Ally held back her cries as the impact of the strikes reverberated up her arm. The hand causing the affliction shook with nerves. However, instead of stopping, she continued her fool's mission and repeatedly struck her wrist with the hardback book. She wanted freedom, no matter the cost.

By the time her brother burst into her room, Ally's wrist was speckled with black and blue bruises. Blood trickled down her arm, and a fiery pain pierced at her nerves. James' eyes widened as he took in the sight and then, with a gasp, he bolted to her side. He pried the book from her fingers and tossed it across the room as if its touch has burnt him. He lifted her injured hand into his unmarred palm and gently probed her wrist for broken or dislocated bones. "Ally, why would you-" he cut off abruptly, choking on the words.

Then, he turned toward the gaping doorway. "Kyle, get in here with those keys. Now!"

A muffled curse was heard, followed by the sound of something hitting the floor and then shuffling footsteps.

"What were you thinking when you started beating yourself with a hardcover book?" James was shouting now, and Ally flinched from the hardness in his voice.

Her chin quivered as she tried to stay strong. "You wouldn't listen to me any other way, and I can't stay here. You can no longer keep me safe... from neither myself nor your men."

He moved to protest but she shook her head. "Of my time away, one year of it was spent being caged, restrained, and beaten. I will not allow you to do the same."

Kyle entered then, with only a brief glance spared for her. He handed James a small silver key and then turned, walking briskly from the room without a word.

Ally sighed. It was her actions that had spurred such behavior from him... and she had no plans to retract her words anytime in the immediate future.

James stared at her wrist as he unlocked the handcuffs and gingerly moved her arm for a closer look. "I cannot believe you did this."

He stood up and walked to the bathroom cabinet with uncertain steps. His back faced her when he paused, his hand on the small metal handle. "This is all my fault."

Shaking his head, James slowly gathered the first aid supplies he needed. He swallowed the painful lump in his throat, wondering if he had in fact done the right thing by making her stay. However, he dismissed such thoughts as he turned back to his sister. This was not the time for second thoughts, he needed to be strong and guide his baby sister through this trial.

James swabbed the afflicted area with disinfectant, then carefully covered her wrist with salve and gauze.

Ally nodded at his work with approval, whispering only, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

James carefully replaced the materials into the first-aid kit, shutting it with a snap. He stood up to place it back in the cabinet but Ally stopped him with her next question. "What are you going to do with me?"

He sighed, and slid the box onto its appropriate shelf. "I don't know." A door closed and then he appeared from the bathroom once again.

"If you'd only let me go, you wouldn't have to protect me. I made it for four years on my own. I can handle myself," she whispered.

"You just don't get it do you?" James asked her with conviction. She turned to look at him, her eyes showing her confusion. She honestly did not understand why he was so devoted to protecting her.

"You lasted four years on your own, but we both know that it was no great thrill or achievement. You have yet to inform me of what happened during that time but I have seen the scars, and they cannot lie. Someone hurt you and I will not let them do so again."

Ally huffed with indignation. "He hurt me no more than your own men."

James laughed bitterly and in his frustration bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "Ally, you may have been able to survive what we put you through but trust me when I say Soverage will not show you any mercy. No one he interrogates is ever seen again... not even those he kidnaps. If I let him find you, that would be the end."

She scoffed. "He kidnapped me once and I'm still alive."

"You got lucky--extremely lucky. If we wouldn't have gotten to you before the Galmer gang turned you over to Soverage, we would not be having this conversation right now."

Ally ran her un-bandaged hand through her hair in frustration. "I can take care of myself."

"No, you can't. You haven't seen what he's capable of, I have. I won't subject you to that, and that's exactly what I would be doing if I let you back onto the streets."

Ally shut her eyes tightly and her hands clenched into fists for a few seconds before she looked back up at him. "I'm not some little girl that needs you to hold her hand as she crosses the street. I. Will. Be. Fine," she ground out through clenched teeth.

James shook his head, exasperated. "You'll never listen to me, will you?" he muttered despondently. He stood up and turned to leave. "Whether you choose to believe it or not, I am doing this to protect you."

He glanced back at her over her shoulder. "I do love you Ally, more than you can ever know."