Blood Bound

by Sasha Leone

  I pretend to be some bad bitch. “Does it matter?” I shrug. Maybe if this guy thinks I know what I’m doing, he’ll give me a better deal. I’ve never pawned off jewelry before, mostly because I’ve never had anything worth pawning off.

  I only came to this shop because Carlos had told me that they wouldn’t care if my shit had been gotten through illegal means. I don’t know if my bracelet was stolen or not, but I can guess. Who keeps jewelry they bought in the back seat of their jeep? I should have never taken the bracelet in the first place, but since I did, I might as well make some money off of it.

  The big, completely bald clerk studies my bracelet with suspicion. I try not to let on how nervous I am. I would have gone to another pawn shop in a less shady part of town if I thought I could get away with it for sure, but there was no way I was willing to risk getting caught up in a police report if the owner decided to flag me or my wares.

  I’m expecting a child, after all.

  I have three days left before I have to renew my lease or get kicked out onto the street. There’s no way I’m allowing that to happen without exhausting every option first. Even with the tips I’m making at Mars, I don’t have enough for the new price of rent in my building. The city’s still on fire, and everyone wants to be where it’s safe. Right now, my block seems like one of the very few neighbourhoods in the not-so-nice parts of town where a normal person might be able to survive. Every working-class family and below is dying to get where I am.

  It had felt like a blessing at first, but it didn’t take long for life to bitch slap some sense into me. First and last month’s rent for my new lease is due soon, and I don’t have it.

  What I do have, is this shiny bracelet from a bastard I’ve been trying to forget. What better way to forget him than to get rid the only thing that he left behind?

  Well, not the only thing...

  I’ve decided I’m not getting rid of the other thing. I made a choice, and I’m going to see it through. I have no idea how much this bracelet will bring, but if Ronan was worth a damn thing, it will be enough to pay my rent and maybe even get back into nursing school.

  I flinch when I think of his name. He’s no man and he doesn’t deserve to have a man’s name. Only a beast would abandon me like he did. Only a beast would never let me know why.

  It sucks that the best I can hope for is that he was killed. I don’t know that my pride could survive anything else. I thought we’d had a deep connection, but it obviously wasn’t strong enough to keep him around.

  Instead, he made me just another statistic. I can never forgive him for that.

  “How much can I get for it?” I ask the clerk. He has a cleanly shaven head and a wrinkly face; his t-shirt is stained and ratty, but he’s wearing a gold watch that’s glaring under the flickering fluorescent lights of the shabby shop.

  The little strip mall that the shop’s in isn’t too far from my apartment, and it seems to have been spared so far from the violence outside. I figure either this place has a fortune hidden somewhere in a safe in the basement, or nothing more than cobwebs. There’s no in-between. I’m hoping for the former. I need a good payout.

  By some miracle, my nursing school debt has been paid off. I don’t know if it was a mistake, or maybe an initiative by the city to get more nurses into the hospitals to deal with the current bloodshed, or whatever, but the last letter I got from the Medlink School of Nursing wasn’t a bill, but rather a message of congratulations for paying off my outstanding debt, as well as an official offer welcoming me back for another semester, provided I can afford the tuition.

  I tried scouring the internet for more information on the matter, but I couldn’t come up with anything. If I was braver, I’d ask MedLink themselves, but I’m way too scared that they’ll realize they’ve made a mistake and plunge me back into debt.

  If I can just get one good payout, I may be able to propel myself out of poverty once and for all and finally make something of myself. This bracelet is my only hope. I need it to be worth more than the man who gave it to me.

  “Depends on where you got it,” grumbles the pawn shop clerk.

  My gut stirs. “I didn’t come here to give my life story,” I bluff. “I came here because I was told you wouldn’t care.”

  The big clerk barely reacts to my lashes. For some reason, he finds both me and my bracelet very interesting.

  “How much do you want?” he asks.

  Fuck. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that. I have no idea how much it’s worth. It could be $10 or $10,000 for all I know.

  All I know for sure is that $5000 would be enough to keep me in my apartment and get back into nursing school. But what if it’s worth twice that? Or more? I don’t have enough experience with jewelry to know. I tried searching online for something that looked like my silver bracelet, but I couldn’t find anything, which means it’s either super rare, or a complete knockoff.

  I take a deep breath and decide to try my luck.

  “$10,000,” I blurt out, almost immediately regretting it. There’s no way it’s worth $10,000. Why would anyone, even a criminal, keep $10,000 in the backseat of his car?

  Did you see that loft Ronan lived in? Looked like he could spare $10,000...

  The big clerk pouts his lips and rocks his head side to side, thinking about the offer. Before he answers, he pulls out his phone and seems to write a text. It apparently doesn’t take long for him to get his answer, because I soon have mine.

  The clerk nods. “But transfer only.”

  I scrunch my brows. “What do you mean, you don’t pay cash?” This is supposed to be a pawn shop, and a shady one at that, I thought cash was supposed to be the only currency.

  The clerk shakes his head. “For $10,000, only transfer,” he repeats.

  My head swims as I consider the pros and cons of his proposition. The pro is obviously that I get $10,000. The con is that, if this bracelet was stolen, then there will be an official trail leading back to me. Can I risk getting caught up in some more shit?

  For $10,000?

  Fuck yes.

  I take my debit card out of my purse. “You have yourself a deal.”

  19

  Ronan

  I’m never going back.

  The tropical sun beats down on my bare chest and a soft, warm breeze washes across my face. I adjust my sunglasses and march down the dirt road that runs along the oceanside beach.

  I can hardly even imagine that I was ever able to live anywhere but here. The memory of the city I grew up in sends a shiver down my spine. The frigid gusts that occupy those streets in the winter are enough to kill a man, or worse. If I’d known that there were places on this planet where you didn’t have to fight the wind every time you stepped outside, then I would have left a long time ago... but then I would have never met her.

  I’m never going back, I tell myself, knowing that it’s a lie. I have to go back. No place can ever be perfect until I’m with Nia again.

  The past two months have been the hardest of my life in more ways than one, but the most difficult part of it all is trying not to reach out to her. As much as I crave to, I know that it would only put her in danger. There’s a whole city looking for me, and if they knew how much I cared for a curvy brown waitress from the westside, they’d know just how to get me back, and then I’d have no future at all, with or without the girl of my dreams.

  The ramshackle beach house I’m looking for sways in the warm breeze. I don’t knock on the door, so much as I kick it down.

  It’s not big enough inside for there to be anywhere to hide. The man I’ve come for is still in his underwear anyway. He jumps up from a ratty mattress and reaches for a gun on the ground beside his head. I catch it with a bullet before he can take it in his fingers.

  “Fuck!” he yelps, as the nip of my firepower sends a shockwave up his arm. He stumbles backwards onto his mattress and falls flat on his ass. I point my gun right between his eyes.

  “Do you have Miguel’s money?”
I ask, not angrily, but without much patience. This man means nothing to me, and I know Miguel will be just as happy to see him dead as he would be to see him pay up.

  “... Just give me another week, please!” begs the pathetic excuse of a human.

  I’m not impressed. “That’s what you said last week, Luiz. You’ve gotten paid for two shipments since then, not to mention you’ve gotten yourself into a little local trouble with some of the village girls. I’m willing to forgive you, if you pay double, and if you don’t, well,” I look behind the trembling coward to the peeling wall behind him. “Looks like this place could use a bit of a paint job. How’s red sound to you?”

  “Please, No. Mr. Reid. I’ll pay. I’ll pay. Here.” I let Luiz crawl off his dusty mattress and I help him kick it aside. All I can do is chuckle with amusement as he un-hitches a trap door in the rickety wood flooring below. This idiot.

  A duffle bag, stuffed with clearly-marked bills, suddenly appears. “I thought you needed another week, Luiz.” I play with him. He might be acting the lowly coward now, but word is that he has been treating a few local ladies a little harsher than I find acceptable.

  “Here. Here’s double. For you and Miguel. Take it, please,” Luiz begs. It’s as hot as a sauna in his little beachside cabin, but he’s shaking like he belongs back in my frigid home town.

  I do as he says and pocket the money in the string-bag I have slung over my shoulder. “Very good, Luiz. Miguel will be happy.”

  “And you?” the sadistic coward pleads.

  I consider his question for a moment, before bringing the butt of my gun down across his cheek. He yelps like a child and snivels as blood pours down his face. “If I hear about you roughing up any village girls again, Luiz, you’re going to get more than that, you hear me?”

  Luiz doesn’t answer, so I take a step closer to make sure he can hear me. He flinches in my shadow. “Yes, yes. I promise. I’m sorry. It will never happen again.”

  “Good.”

  I leave the sniveling husk of a man to enjoy the beautiful tropical morning by himself, and I head out for a little beachside drink of my own.

  God, I love this place. Even the criminals here are soft and easy. I wade through the sand and take in big whiffs of the salty air.

  My head feels so light, but my heart has never felt heavier. I somehow managed to finally escape from the frozen hellscape that came so close to killing me two months ago, yet all I can think about is going back.

  The truth is, no matter how much I want to convince myself otherwise, I’m not truly free. My mind has been taken hostage by a beautiful angel and I won’t be able to rest until I see her again.

  I have unfinished business in the city, and her name is Nia.

  “Boy, am I jealous of you.” Finn’s voice crackles over the airwaves just like old times.

  “Come on, now. I’ve made you a wealthy man. What’s stopping you from joining me?” I joke, sipping on an ice-cold beer on the front porch of my beachside villa. I watch as a storm plays out off in the distance, over the calm ocean.

  “You know I burn easily,” Finn chuckles.

  “You’re telling me,” I laugh. “How are things in the city?”

  Finn suddenly takes on a more somber tone. I know what it means before I even hear him say it. Things still haven’t improved enough for me to contact Nia. When I set off that grenade in Gianni’s office, I wasn’t even thinking about the consequences, I just wanted to hurt the two crime families enough to get them off my back, or, rather, to keep them from ever having a chance to get to Nia.

  It had worked, in a way—at least, for a little while. From what I’ve heard, Gianni is dead, killed by the blast that I barely escaped myself. Vadim bit the dust too. The old guys just couldn’t handle the heat anymore. Somehow, though, the young guns had survived. Finn’s told me that both Luca and Semyon are still alive, as are one or two other family members from each side of the aisle.

  Those big oak doors had closed behind me just enough to keep me alive, and when the shock of the explosion wore off, I was able to overpower one of the guards rushing in to see what had happened. I took his gun and shot my way out of that mess. It was all a chaotic blur, and when I came to, I was in the cargo haul of a charter plane being flown to god knows where.

  My only regret is that I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to Nia first, but it was probably for the best. I couldn’t have left any visible ties to the city. I was going to be hunted from the moment whoever survived the hand grenade’s blast got word out about what had happened.

  The thing about crime families, though, is that, as cold and calculating as the successful ones have to be, there’s always a simmering current of anger and hate just beneath it all. Instead of pooling all their resources together and coming after me, the two families blamed each other for what had happened, and quickly descended into a bloody war.

  That was good news for me. It allowed me to escape.

  But now, they’re still going at it, and it means I can’t risk returning for Nia. I have to wait until they wipe each other off the face of the earth before I can risk going back.

  “Any idea how much longer they’ll be at it?” I ask Finn.

  “Hey man, you’re the expert, what do you think?”

  I have no idea. Nothing like this has ever happened before. It’s totally new ground.

  “... Have you been checking up on her?” It’s the question I’ve been too afraid to ask until now. I’m well aware that the westside’s a rough part of town. It must be a bloody hill by now. I can only pray Nia hasn’t been effected too harshly.

  “Yeah, she seems to be doing alright,” Finn says, as casually as if I’d asked him about the weather.

  A huge weight lifts off my shoulders. Thank god.

  “She got a new job, though,” Finn continues. “Don’t worry, it’s in a much safer part of the city than Chinatown. I’ve also pulled some strings to make sure the area you said she lived in has more police protection than some of the other areas of similar, uh, economic status.”

  I can’t help but smile with relief. “I knew I made the right choice when I partnered up with you,” I tell the young cop.

  “... You know, that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Finn jokes, but I know he’s flattered. Good. He deserves it.

  I get back to business. “And you’re making sure no one sees you checking up on Nia? And that no one knows that you and I are connected in any way?”

  “Yes, yes,” I can practically hear Finn rolling his eyes over the phone. “I thought we were having a moment there.”

  I give him a considerate chuckle before getting serious again. “You’re sure Nia’s safe?” I ask.

  “Yeah, man. Don’t worry. I’ll pick up my surveillance if you want?”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. “Keep up the good work. Is there anything else?”

  “Nothing I can think of.”

  When Finn hangs up, I’m left alone with my thoughts again. I believe him about Nia being safe, but I wonder if she’s truly doing better. Has she figured out that it was me who paid off her nursing school debt?

  It’s been the biggest risk I’ve been willing to take to help her out. I went through multiple shell companies and charities just to get it done, but I felt like I had to do something for her. I know she’s going to be mad when I show up again, but if I can explain everything, and point to my donation as a sign that I’ve never stopped worrying about her, then maybe she’ll forgive me.

  Still, my heart clenches when I think about our reunion—if we ever even get one. She’s going to be so mad...

  I’m almost more nervous to face Nia than I am of the goons who will be left over after the war’s done. They can all try their best to come after me, but I’m only chasing one thing now: her.

  20

  Nia

  “You’re fired.”

  I’d been expecting to hear those words, but still, they rip through me like a callous bullet.

&nbs
p; Ms. Lindsey has caught wind of my little morning routine, which often involves bending over the bathroom toilet and emptying out my insides. I don’t know how I managed to last this long, but now that I’ve been ratted out by both customers and my ‘fellow’ employees, I’m being asked to take a hike.

  I mean, I get it. It’s not exactly pleasant. But how can you fire a pregnant woman? How cold-hearted do you have to be, especially in this climate?

  “Ms. Lindsey, please,” I try to beg. Even with the savings I’ve managed to build up from selling off my bracelet, I still need this job to get me through the next year. I won’t be able to go back to nursing school if I have to burn through my savings just to buy the essentials.

  Things were going so well, too. One mention that I was expecting was usually enough to get me a bigger tip than normal from a customer. I have a feeling that may have also been my downfall, though. Betty and Agatha were getting jealous.

  Bitches.

  Ms. Lindsey shows me the palm of her hand. “You’re lucky I’m not bringing a lawsuit against you. Do you realize how unsanitary what you’ve been doing is? Any one of our customers could have sued this place into the ground because of your carelessness.”

  I want to snap back at her that being pregnant isn’t the same as being careless, but the truth is, I’m only pregnant because I was careless; because I wanted, for once in my life, to let myself be careless.

  A lot of good that did me.

  I don’t know what else to say. The milky, middle-aged woman shows no signs of sympathy for my plight. Her ear-length, dyed-blonde hair is brushed to the side, revealing a stone-cold face with beady eyes and thin, pursed lips. She’s dressed in a smart, dark-blue blazer with matching dress pants. There’s nothing to indicate that she has any interests outside of business, and I know that there’s no pleading with someone who’s all business. I’m just a number to her—or, in this scenario, a liability.