Page 103 of The Devil's Weakness

“I know you feel what I feel when we’re together. We’re both strong-willed, stubborn people, but we both want the same thing.”

I think about what he’s saying, and I know he’s right. But being with him has added stress to my life. He’s affected my employment, both because of Iron’s accident and the shit he pulled yesterday. Michael is still missing, and I know if I asked Blade what he really thought about the situation, he would tell me it’s better that he’s gone.

He may be right, but he’s still my brother.

I’ll never fit in with the men he callsfamily—especially not Stone. Hawk and Cap, maybe, but even they make me nervous.

“It’s not enough, Blade. I’m sorry.” I begin to get choked up, so I clear my throat. “You’re right. I’m strong-willed and stubborn, too. It’s how I keep myself from getting too close to others, but it’s also been what’s gotten me through the past five years. I can’t forget who I am or all the hell I’ve fought to get to where I am today.”

“It’s one of the things I love about you, Sasha.”

“Which is why I have to say goodbye.”

We speak over one another, neither of us expecting the words that the other has said. I can’t get hung up on theLword. He didn’t say he lovesme, just my stubborn personality.

“Take care of yourself, Carson.”

Closing the door, I sit on the ground with my back against it and completely break down. I remain there for a while, unable to think about picking myself up again, until the room around me has plunged into the dark of night. I’m glad I kept myself from running after him. Though, if I saw him again right now, I know I would throw out everything I just said and let him in again.

Sometimes I have no sense of self-preservation.

The moment I decide it’s time to get up, dust myself off, and take another step in the right direction, there is a knock at the door.

Why can’t he let me be?

I stand up, thinking I’ll have to move away if I ever want to get over him. I turn the lock and throw the door open with anger.

“What?” I shout.

But it’s not Blade. Not by a long shot. In fact, I’d do anything to go back a short while and beg for him to stay.

On my doorstep stands two gigantic, terrifying men looking like Bebop and Rocksteady wannabes. Each with a patch on their vests of a skull with a knife through it.

Death’s Road.

Michael. The heroin. The money he stole. Blade’s warning.

Did they take him?

I try to scream, but nothing comes out. I try closing the door, but they easily step in its way, keeping it from moving. When I turn and run, one of them reaches out and grabs me by the hair, keeping me from getting any further.

“Ow! Let go of me!” I scream, finally able to find my voice.

He holds me in a bear hug and covers my mouth with his hand. When I bite him, he lets go of me, but the other guy is ready. He grabs me by my bicep and swings me around, so I’m facing him. Suddenly, I’m being lifted off the ground and thrown onto my coffee table. The old wooden legs can’t withstand the force of the crash, and the table collapses to the floor beneath me. The impact knocks the wind out of me, and I struggle to suck air back into my lungs. Before I’m fully recovered, one of them grabs me by my shirt and lifts me off of the ground as if I weigh nothing.

Wrapping his body around me, he pins my arms to my sides. Before I have a chance to swing my legs out and kick the guy approaching me, he plants a fist to my temple. A bright light flashes as heat radiates through my head, my ear, and my jaw.

My vision blurs as it fades, and I go limp in the arms of the brute that’s holding me. The one who hit me takes my chin in his hand and lifts my head to get a good look at me. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open, still dazed by his punch.

“Aren’t you a pretty one,” he says; the evil inside him is dangerously apparent. “We sure are going to have fun with you.”

It’s the last thing I remember before darkness overtakes me.