Path To Realization (Fighter's Den, #4)

Prologue - Asher

PAST

"Don't fucking lie to me!"

Christian's fist drives into my jaw with enough force that my teeth rattle. Fucker can throw a mean hook, I'll give him that. Despite my mild fear I don't give him the satisfaction of showing it. These assholes don't operate that way. If I wanted to make it out of here alive, I had to hold my own. I sneer and try to act ten times tougher than I feel right now. It doesn't help that he has the clear advantage with the gun in his hand and me being unable to fight back since he tied my wrists.

"Fuck you." I spit blood out onto his shoe. He yanks it away and glares down at me with so much rage, I realize I went too far. Again, I don't give him the satisfaction. "It's not my fault your head is so far up your ass you didn't realize you were being conned."

"Don't fuck with me." He warns menacingly and slowly crouches down to my level. I'm on my knees in classic execution position which is exactly what he's about to do — execute me. I can barely hear him over the pulsing in my ears when he places the opening of his gun right under my chin. The metal feels cool against my sweaty skin and my heart only beats faster. I set my jaw tightly. I might die right now but he won't see my fear when he does it. "You're a fucking kid. You're disposable. Isn't that why mommy and daddy left you to die when their lab exploded?"

My breath leaves my flaring nostrils shakily. I don't remember that day because I was only a year old but his taunting still gets to me. He continues, knowing he's got me.

"And they did it all over again." He tsks. "Tried to con the Asesinos, got busted, and left their son to die. I almost feel bad enough to spare you."

He bends his head, his breath hot on my face. "Almost."

I snap.

I throw my head forward and butt my forehead against his. He cries out from the unexpected hit and falls back on his ass. I kick his gun out of the way and it slides to the other end of the floor. Before I can second-guess my actions, I take off running toward the gun and bend back down to retrieve it. The dumbass tied my wrists in front of me so I'm still able to grasp the gun. My hands are sweaty and they slip right out but I take hold of it again, clutching it tightly. I hold it up just as Christian stands and faces me.

"Stay there!" I warn. "I'll blow your fucking head off!"

His lip curls even as he holds his hands out in front of him. "I would bet all the money your parents tried to steal from us that you've never used a gun before."

He's right but he can't know that. It's like I said — if I want to make it out of here alive, I need to look like I know what I'm doing.

"That's a bet you'd lose and then it'd be your own people killing you." I smirk. "You don't think I knew what I was getting into when I did this favour for my parents? I come from a gang, too. They taught me well."

That's a lie. They didn't teach me shit. They don't even like me. The only reason I took this job is because my birth parents showed up at my door saying they needed me and threatened my adoptive parents when I refused. I did this job against my own will and everyone in the Vice Lords knows it. They hate that I'm soft.

Still, my lying pays off when Christian shifts his weight. It's a small tell but I recognize that he's uncomfortable; no longer as confident as he was a moment ago.

I click back the lock on the gun and Christian puts his hand up higher. His lips thin and I know he's trying to stay calm the same way I was moments ago. "Relax, kid. Killing someone isn't that easy. You do this and it'll haunt you for the rest of your life."