You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 168

VOID

You know the painful thing about discoveries? It's when the signal's there and you're still out of range.

The room reeked of copper and fear. I filled the doorway and leaned one shoulder against the frame, the wall taking my weight. I rolled a cigarette to the corner of my mouth, thumbed the lighter, and watched sulfur bloom. The whole time, I kept my eyes on him.

He kept his head low, not bothering to look at me.

"Still no luck?" For someone that'd been chained for two days, his voice still had spine.

I drew in, held the smoke long enough to remember why I liked the burn, then let it go slowly. My gaze mapped him like a cartographer—from his hands strung high to the ceiling, to his naked body dangling, his feet not reaching the floor.

He was the exact way he'd been when his mama birthed him. Blood and all. Only this version came with edits in bruises and burns.

"I'm hungry, brother." He shook his head. "I thought you were rich. How come all I get is a teabag?"

To keep you alive. But he already knew that.

He chuckled. I guess he was a bit confident as he knew I was keeping him alive until Rali was found.

He looked entirely too pleased with himself. I specialized in making such moments brief.

He heard my steps and finally dragged that ugly face up. When I say ugly, it wasn't a figure of speech. It was what I saw. There was a hole where one of his eyes used to be. Could hardly recognize the boy I grew up with.

"Void..." He shook his head, urging me not to do whatever I had in mind.

I didn't do much. Simply placed the burning tip of my cigarette on the triangle-shaped cut on his chest. Katya had done that one herself.

He threw his head back, hissing and cursing. I stood at close range and watched, letting a small, private satisfaction click into place.

"What else do you fucking want, man!?" he spat when I drew back, spit and anger launching from his mouth. "I've given you all the names I could. I'm telling you, we didn't kill her. She must've gotten away somehow. She's somewhere in the damn city."

Oh, I knew for sure they didn't. I already had my men comb the entire area where the shootings had taken place and her body was never found.

But it's been two days. Two days, and there's still no sign of her.

"You know, she really hated your ass." He laughed like he'd misplaced his sanity.

I stayed level and set the cigarette back where it belonged.

"Everyday, when she got fucked, she cursed your name 'cause she knew you were the reason she was there. Everyone kept calling her the Torturer's woman. Man, that pussy brought me money I'd never made my whole life."

He tipped his head back and let the laugh rip.

"She doesn't have a single memory of you, you know?" His one good eye glimmered with sick delight. "Yet everyday, she kept praying for your corpse to get eaten alive by birds. Kept praying your soul never finds peace and you get tormented in the afterlife." He tsked. "She hated you, brother. If you ask me, I'd say it's useless trying to find her. I mean, what's the point of finding someone who hates you more than she hates the devil?" His chin dipped. "You should've stayed dead."

I drew smoke into my lungs, letting it sit there until it burned. I didn't look away. I counted the seconds on his face, waiting for the cracks to show.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify