He doesn’t move for a moment but keeps his eyes rooted to me. The heat from my guilty soul creeps over me, and I have to take a sudden inhale of breath to try to calm my heart. He can see. He can see that I’m his sister. Either that, or he knows that I have traitorous bitch tattooed over my head. Traitorous because ofhim.
“I won’t tell you again.” Benjamin steps up to Quinn, his threat delivered. It makes my heart break a little. He’s defending me, possessive of me, yet that wasn’t enough to curb my need to get to Cane and betray him. The part of my heart that’s breaking disagrees.
“Fuck off, Vico.” Quinn snaps, turning to him. “You have her parading around at all fucking hours. Who the hell is she anyway?”
Benjamin’s arm is so fast, so exact that I wonder how he doesn’t knock Quinn out cold. He does sprawl backwards, his arms out as he staggers and falls against a conveniently placed side table.
The shift in his face is immediate. Gone is the man I’ve seen with Emily, now replaced with something wild and sinister. All of it aimed directly at Benjamin, as he levels back up. He steps forward, a hard glare aimed back at me then towards Benjamin again. “She was in this room, Vico. Who the fuck is she?” Everything stops. Sound. Movement. Even the beat of the city outside dulls to nothing as I listen to those words.
My eyes flick to Benjamin as my heart begins to race. I keep my stance, aiming for arrogance, and hoping I don’t look as guilty as I feel. This could be it. The end.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask as firmly as I dare. There's a flicker in his eyes, a half thought. It's one that has me lifting my chin higher in the hope I appear forthright. “What has happened?”
Neither of them answers, but Benjamin turns his attention back to Quinn. They just glare at each other, dismissing me from whatever they're about to do. I can feel their energy vibrating enough to take a step backwards and retreat from the firing line.
It's in that second that Quinn turns to me, reaching his hand out,that all hell lets loose.
My cry sounds weak to my ears, and I watch in disbelief as they start to grapple like fighters trapped in a cage. The thuddy punches and scuffles drown out any other thoughts in my mind as I watch on, riveted. “Stop it! Both of you. Stop!”
Nothing stops. It gets worse. Dark red streaks splatter the wall as their grunts grow more pained, arms and fists driving into each other.
I flee to the entrance, listening to the crashes of objects getting trashed and hoping that Torino might still be here, but I run straight into a wall of hard muscle instead.
“Hey, easy.” His deep voice and soft hands on my shoulders should offer some comfort, but they don’t. Not coming from my brother.
I snatch myself back, hating the thought.
“What are you doing here?” I accuse.
“I came up with Quinn. I was talking to Gabby on the phone.” Nathan’s eyes look confused for a moment, but he covers that quickly, distracted by the sounds coming from the other room. He pulls his hand around to the back of his suit and palms a gun, bringing it around his body and steadying it with his other hand.
“What the fuck, Nathan? There's no threat. It's just—”
He ignores me and with his legs in a slight crouch, he stalks towards the room I left the pair of them fighting in.
“Don’t, Nathan. You don’t need a fucking gun.”
“If Vico is in there with Quinn, I might. Go!” He shouts the last command, but I won’t let him go in and shoot Benjamin. The plan was for the Cane family to suffer, not to bring further turmoil around my own life.
“No.” I step in front of him. “Not with a gun.” Blood rushes through my veins, but I know it’s what I need to do. My legs begin to quiver, betraying my fear.
“Fuck, Hope. Come on. They’ll kill each other. Trust me. Quinn isn’t to be messed with.” He doesn’t hide the tension well and all but seethes the words through his clenched teeth.
“Then stop them. Without the gun.” I put my hand out, terrified to hold something that dangerous, but unwilling to have Benjamin at any further risk than I'm already putting him in.
Nathan stares at me, challenging me, and then tries to get around me again. I move straight back in front,blocking the gun with my stomach and reaching for it. I'm deadly serious. No fucking guns. He huffs and places the gun into my palm, so I finally step aside and let him in to break them up.
The weight in my hand is solid, heavier than I’d have expected. I can feel the power and danger running through my skin. My eyes are transfixed, imagining all of the pain that this weapon has instilled in others, the bloodshed and hurt that it’s caused. Hurt like that of my mother’s.
“Shut the fuck up!” Benjamin bellows. It snaps me out of my introspection, and I race into the other room. Quinn is bloodied and bruised, lying on his back with a joker smile over his face. Nathan is standing in front of Benjamin, holding him back with all the weight of his body. It looks like he’s been drawn into the fight as well.
My feet pace over the glossy wooden floor, slowly walking towards the mayhem. My senses dull, as if I’ve been submerged in water. All I can see is Quinn. Quinn and the memories of my mother. Every single bad word she ever muttered to me echoes in my ear. He looks so much like his father.My father.
The hand with the gun lifts, and it takes more of an effort than I thought, but I hold it forward, my arm locked out, straight in front of me. The muzzle of the gun points to one target—the target for all of my hate—and for the first time in years, the feel of vengeance within my grasp sweeps over me.
Silence drops over the three of them, all of them only concerned with my actions.
“Hope?” Quinn’s messed up face looks quizzically at me, although he’s not afraid. He’s cocky, sure that I’ll never fire. But he doesn’t know me. Not the real me—the one that’s been consumed with hate for the man in front of me all of my life. I sidestep, dazed with the power I now hold. Me. All that power in my hands. I just need to squeeze the trigger. One shot and it's all done.
