Cobras Are Winners
It's not her.
I repeat it over and over.
Zamsii swallows against my grip, but doesn't fight me, just hangs there, her eyes watching me closely. I lean down and get right in her face, no doubt mine is transformed into a snarl. "I will not save you, little girl, if anything, I will be your death. Sylvester might get annoyed and have it ordered, Jake might even help. Fuck, even Black would be kinder, he'd make sure you enjoyed it…me? I will make it hurt. I will make you suffer, because you mean nothing to me. I won't even care when you beg. You. Are. Nothing. Just another fucking debt. Another fucking whore through those doors."
She tips her head back, her eyes flashing. "Is that so? Then do it. Kill me. I'm tired of the uncertainty, just fucking do it. Stop threatening, just kill me," she taunts.
I snarl and slam her back again, she oomphs as the wind is knocked out of her, but still laughs, even though I can feel the rapid beat of her pulse against my hand, betraying her. She's scared of me. It's what brings me back. "Fucking do it! I'm sick of the threats, of waiting for it to happen! Just kill me and get it over with, it's better than this not knowing!" she screams right in my face.
I was so lost, I didn't even hear the door open until a hand touches my arm. Jerking my head around with a snarl, I look right into Sylvester's calm eyes. "Alejandro, it's not her. Look, see? It's not her. It's Zamsii. Let her go."
Breathing heavily, I swing around to look at the woman held in my arms. My heart stutters, fuck. Releasing her, I stumble back—fuck, fuck, fuck. Horror washes through me. Is this really what I have turned into? My hand shakes as I stare at Zamsii, who falls to her knees, gasping for air. Zamsii tries to help her up, but she smacks his hands away and gets to her feet, her angry eyes locked on me.
She looks between us then, so fucking angry. "If you're going to kill me, just do it. I'm sick of this shit. Sick of looking over my shoulder, of being scared to sleep. I know I'm nothing to you, just another debt, but I didn't ask for this. I'm asking you now, kill me. Make it quick."
Sylvester narrows his eyes as she stands there and waits, so brave, this little one. "We won't, and you do not order us, Zamsii."
"Then fuck you!" she yells, lashing out in fear. I know because I do the same thing. I see it in her gaze, the same ghosts that haunt me. "You think I'm going to sit here like another one of your fucking-fucking women? I am a person! I have a life." She looks to Sylvester then, staring straight into his eyes. "You will regret the day you took me, I guarantee it. I'm going to destroy you." She strides right up to me, despite the fact I almost just killed her, and goes chest to chest with me.
"And you? You touch me again, and I will slit your throat in your sleep. Den of Cobras or not, even if it means I won't make it out alive." She pulls back her fist, I see it coming, habit of a fighter, but I don't try to block it as it connects with my face. I hear my nose crack a little, pain flaring through me. But I'm used to it, I live in that pain.
Live for it, the only time I feel alive, feel normal. Not this scarred up monster hiding behind gloves and suits.
She shakes out her hand, and I know she hurt it, but she doesn't let it show as she turns and, with her head held high, leaves the room. I stand there, staring after her. She hit me. Again. That woman—she's a fucking hurricane.
Even when faced with death, she fights. It reminds me so much of some other men I know—my brothers—who never stop, never give up, even when the odds seem extreme.
I deserved her hit. Shit, I knew I shouldn't have let her in here. Let her get close enough to crawl under my skin, to poke and prod. It will be her death, that's all I can offer anyone. There is nothing else left of me but anger.
Hate.
"She sure is something," Sylvester mutters, watching me. As always, his eyes sadden when they spot my chest. He blames himself, I know it. Always does when one of us gets hurt, always thinking he has to protect us. Save us. He doesn't, but he won't listen to me, not that we ever spoke about what happened. "Maybe you shouldn't be around her, I'm sorry, I didn't think about what it would do to bring her here…" He scrubs his hand through his hair, mussing it slightly.
That, in Sylvester standards, is a meltdown.
"No, it's fine," I snap, turning away, not letting him see how close I came to losing myself to those emotions. To that darkness…those demons, the ones I fight every day. The ones I beat down with pain, fists, and kicks.
"I can kill her, she wouldn't be a problem then," he muses, so calmly, but when I drop the towel, yanking on my grey shorts, I look over to see his lips tilting down. He doesn't want to kill her. She's under his skin as well—interesting.
"No, it's fine. I wasn't prepared, I will be now. I'll stay away from her until we decide what we're doing with her," I reply, as I tug on a shirt and grab my bag, tucking my gun into my waistband.
"You going to the pits?" he asks, letting out a long breath as he slicks his hair back.
"I need to." I sigh, looking at my back, and his hand lands on my arm again.
"I know, go, do what you need to do to beat this. But then come back to us," he orders before leaving.
Sucking in a breath, I let his words guide me. Come back to us. How does he know I'm so close to being lost? So close to dropping my guard ever so slightly to let those flurries of fists connect, killing me? It would be easier, but it's not our way.
Cobras never give up.
Cobras never stop fighting.
Cobras are winners.
Striding from my room, I ignore the others who are sitting downstairs as I slam the door behind me. They will never know how close I am to the edge. Black went over it a long time ago, but he learned how to live in the dark. Jake walks that line, and Sylvester? Sylvester holds it all back with pure fucking strength.