AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Wait- Paul didn’t tell him about the portrait? It sounds like my uncle is only upset that I haven’t provided him with intel on Thomas yet. Did he beat Paul because he wasn’t getting answers from me?
Guilt churns in my stomach, despite having nothing to be ashamed of here. I avoid looking at Paul, but I can’t stop myself from blurting out the question that’s been boiling in my chest for days.
“Is Thomas all right?”
Uncle Morgan glares at me from beneath his wild eyebrows. “That should be the very last of your concerns right now.”
I’m so close to giving away the entire game, but I can’t help it. “What happened with the raids? Did they- did Derrick…”
My uncle’s face twists with rage. “That goddamn two-faced rat! He’d best believe he’s next on my list.”
I shouldn’t press when he’s in this mood. “But what-”
“He promised me the Warwick boy, and then he fucking disappeared him!” my uncle explodes. “That’s what happened! He bungled the whole fucking thing. His useless pigs blew their cover too soon, and the Warwicks were tipped off. I helped that brat put together this ambush, and then he makes me look like an idiot and takes the prize all for himself? I could’ve told him he’d underestimate the Warwick boy when he put him in a corner, but I’m done giving that fucking pissant my advice. Tommy probably got home in time for midnight coffee and is licking his wounds as we speak.”
Relief shoots through me, and I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath since I was put in this cell. It’s a mistake. Uncle Morgan’s anger switches targets, from the absent Derrick Lindman, to me, who’s within striking distance.
“You got something to say, bitch?” he demands. Behind him, Paul shakes his head. He knows what I know, that Derrick isn’t the only one who tried to meddle with the raid. Did the cops really blow their cover, or was that tip-off the Warwicks actually received the picture that Paul might’ve sent out after all? I dare to hope.
Thomas is safe, and now my real plan can finally begin.
“Derrick was in it for himself,” I say. “Just like you.”
“Is that right?” Uncle Morgan says dangerously.
It’s a threat, and I ignore it. “You called Derrick a two-faced rat, but you’re no better than him. He betrayed you, and you betrayed Thomas’s father-”
I’m expecting the blow, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. The back of my uncle’s hand cracks across my cheek, hard enough that I stumble into the wall. Cradling the side of my face in my hand, I look up in time to see Paul turn away, his mouth set in a bloodless line.
“I gotta do everything myself?” Uncle Morgan demands, rounding on Paul. “You’re as bad as a woman. Do your fucking job and get answers out of her!”
I straighten, half my face feeling like fire. He hit the same cheek he hit with the gun before, and once the heat ebbs, I’m going to feel the pain in every one of my teeth. “This war won’t be good for any of us. Don’t you get it? If all you do is keep turning on the people closest to you, there’ll be no one left who loves you in the end!”
My uncle wheezes a laugh. “What? You’re saying I’m supposed to hold hands and sing hymns with the guy trying to wreck my businesses? I built this house out of nothing because I was the only one with the guts to make this city- hell, this country- my own.”
“No you didn’t!” I push. “You took everything you have from your friend, someone who trusted you!”
“If you knew half what you think you do about men’s work, you’d know that old man Warwick was losing his touch. We crossed a whole fucking ocean to get here, and he was totally content taking orders and paying tithes to the boss in London when we could’ve had our own operation and one hundred percent of the profits! I was the only one with the guts to take risks, and he stopped fucking taking my advice.” He cuts a hand sharply through the air. “I don’t gotta explain this to you. Your dumbass mother lived in a dream world, but I thought I raised you better than that girl. I showed you reality.”
I almost forget my arguments. The boss in London? I knew our families originally came from England- it was hard to forget when the older members of the family all had rich accents- but I never heard of others being left behind. What is Uncle talking about?
No, I have to stay focused on the room I’m in and the people in it with me. If I slip up here, I might die.
“You showed me cruelty,” I spit. “That’s not the world, that’s just you, and your choices. If you’d stayed with the Warwicks ten years ago, we would all be thriving. But no, you chose to take a piece of this city for yourself- and you didn’t care what it would do to the rest of us when you did! I should have left the second you let my mother die-”
My uncle hits me again, and this time, it sends me to the floor. Paul curses. Before I can pick myself up again, a boot drives itself into my stomach. I wretch, but nothing comes up but bile.
“Stop!” Paul barks. “You’re killing-”
Uncle isn’t listening. Another kick lands squarely in my ribs, stealing my breath and leaving me gasping on the floor. His leg pulls back for yet another kick, but Paul slams bodily into him. Morgan’s head cracks against the wall.
“What the-” is the last thing he says before Paul’s knife plunges through his neck.
Blood gushes down the front of his shirt. The sound that gurgles out of his opened throat- I won’t ever forget it. His beady eyes, forever squinting at the people around him, are wide open and staring in shock. Staring into the face of a man who was never truly loyal to him.
Paul pulls his knife free- and drives it back in. He does it again, and again, and again. Blood splatters over the floor, the walls, Paul’s suit, my face. This man I’ve never seen harm another person with any amount of pleasure keeps stabbing his knife into my uncle’s body long after the life leaves his eyes. And I let him. I let him.
I knew what needed to be done. Uncle Morgan wouldn’t listen, and he wouldn’t stop, not until someone else stopped him forever.
