The Assassin's Blood: The Confradia Assassins 3

Chapter 18: Lowest moment

Santana

I've spent all morning trying to find a job with no luck. I've gone online and walked to a few shops with my resume in hand, but no one is hiring. Depression chokes me at the thought that Connor and I can lose the little bit we have. After hours of endless dead ends, I dejectedly make my way back home. Connor will be home from school soon. Saddened by the thought of going home empty-handed, I take a walk and clear my head. I don't want Connor to see my look of hopelessness. I feel stupid walking around, holding my old worn blue knit sweater tightly around my chest as the chill of the air penetrates my bones. The neighborhood is pretty active at this time. People are milling the streets, and kids are running around like a pack of wild dogs. Hopefully, they're not looking for trouble.

I've lived here for so long that I'm desensitized to the shady happenings around me. For example, there are two suspicious men in an alley trying not to be seen, and a group of teenagers sneaking out of a sex shop. No one bats an eye at things like this. That's life in the slums.

I don't know how long I walk around before I stop and check my watch. To my surprise, it's already four o'clock. Connor is probably wondering where I am. Thankfully I didn't wander far. In my distraction, I must have walked in circles. I'm about to turn back home when a familiar black vehicle pulls up beside me. I flinch when the window opens, revealing Declan Archer's beautiful profile. The sun makes his dark hair gleam like melted chocolate. I pretend that I don't see him in hopes that he'll drive away. Unfortunately, it doesn't work because he stops his car and calls out my name. "Santana!"

He looks straight through his windshield, then shuts off his car and steps out of the car. The urge to run becomes stronger the closer he gets, but I resist. He must see the wary look on my face because he holds his palms up in a calming gesture. "Look, Santana, I'm not here to bother you. I swear. I just… I ran into Connor earlier, and he said something that got me a little worried. Is everything okay?" Surprise surges through me. Did Connor tell him what happened? No, Connor would never say anything about our situation─ not to Declan. He's too angry at him to trust him with our problems. Faking puzzlement, I pull my purse and resume close to my chest and shrug. "We're fine," I say, giving him a polite smile. He shakes his head in disbelief. "Are you sure?" He asks, narrowing his eyes as if gauging my sincerity. But I keep my cool and nod my head again. "Yep."

His worried expression turns to one of incredulity. His plump upper lip puckers becomingly, and his cobalt eyes gaze penetratingly into mine. My mouth waters at the sight of his blue jeans molding to his muscled thigh and his white shirt straining against his powerful chest. Licking my lips, I try not to drool at the sight of his contoured abs and arms. His leather jacket adds to his mystique as a bad boy. I wince at the thought of my secondhand, faded pink summer dress with its capped sleeves and plain black flats. I think of the grass stains and want to mentally slap myself. "Is there anything else? Can I leave now?" His jaw clenches, but he doesn't say another word. There's really nothing more to say.

Tightening my hands over the straps of my purse, I step around him and walk home. However, before I can, he snatches my resume from my hands. I reach for the paper, "Hey, give me that!" He raises it high, holding it away from me then gives me a questioning look. "Are you looking for another job?" I tighten my mouth but ignore his question. "That's none of your business."

At first, I think he's going to push the issue. But to my surprise, he backs away and hands me back the resume. I know that he wants me to explain, but there's no way that I'd discuss my humiliation with this man. Without another word, I snatch the paper from his hand and pull it protectively against my chest. "Why are you here, Declan?" I ask warily. It just makes no sense why he'd show up after all his blustering about not wanting to become involved with us. He looks past me for a moment as if trying to formulate an answer, then focuses back on me. "I don't know." He answers sincerely.

I swallow hard before I reply. "Go home, Declan. This is not where you belong." Declan shakes his head and grimaces. "You don't belong here, either Santana. Neither does Connor." A mocking chuckle escapes my lips. "Well, it is what it is. Unfortunately, the house keys for my Manhattan loft are in the pocket of my other dress. So I guess I have to visit my beautifully shitty apartment in Brooklyn. Thanks for stopping by, though. However, in the future, we'd appreciate it if next time you call before you decide to visit." I utter sarcastically.

Every part of me is awash with anger at his offhand comment. He doesn't seem to realize that this is our reality. We don't have the luxury of choosing where to live. Not wanting to talk about it anymore, I make my way around him and stomp angrily down the sidewalk. How dare he come by and flaunt his wealth, knowing that I've done everything I can to provide for Connor and me. Fists tight, I close my eyes and stifle my tears.

I almost stumble when a strong male arm wraps around my waist and pulls me back into a hard male chest. I want to resist, but I'm enticed by his strength. I almost crumble to the ground when he inhales my hair and whispers. "Santana." His husky voice makes my insides quiver with desire. At that moment, I realize that this man has some magnetic hold on me, and it scares me. Not wanting him to see how much his presence affects me, I turn around and mutter. "I can't do this Declan. I have too much going on right now."

My head spins with a heady sensation at his nearness. Unable to help myself, I lift my left hand up and slide it up to his hard chest. To my humiliation, he flinches from my touch and pushes my hand away. I don't know what to make of his rejection other than the fact that I feel like an idiot. Declan grits his teeth and looks away. "I'm sorry San, I don't mean to make this harder on you. I just want to make sure that you and Connor are okay." I can hear the sincerity in his voice, but I ignore it because I know that his sincerity has its limitations, and Connor and I are not looking for temporary. I know he's waiting for my response, but all I can do is look at his luscious lips and fantasize about all the things they can do to me.

My lips throb with need, and my body feels sensitive. I just want to take Declan by the hand and drag him to my bed. I know that it would be a mistake, though. We're from different worlds, and he's Connor's brother. It's a hopeless situation. After a moment, I look away, trying to gain some semblance of control over my emotions and huskily whisper. "I have to go."

I don't know what I expect him to do with my curt words. But I can't help but feel disappointed when he simply concedes. "Yeah, I have to go too." He utters stiffly as he takes a few steps back. My heart aches with every step he takes. I want to jump into his arms and plead for him to stay. However, I don't do that. Instead, I give him a sad smile and reply. "Goodbye, Declan."

At that moment, I decide not to tell Connor about running into Declan. There's really no point in adding to his pain. Instead, I push that afternoon into the never going to happen file and focus my thoughts on finding out a way to pay the bills. If my heart hurts at the thought of what could have been, I ignore it.

The delicious smell of Mac and Cheese meets me as soon as I walk through the door. Connor gives me a big smile as he stirs the contents into a small container. "Hey, I made Mac and Cheese for dinner. I hope you're hungry." Smiling in reply, I lay my things on the kitchen counter and lean my back on the edge. "How was school today?" He shrugs. "It was fine. Any luck?" He asks with a hopeful look. There's no need to ask what he's talking about because he's as worried about me finding a job as I am. I shake my head, feigning a calm demeanor. "Not really, but it's only been a few days. I'm sure I'll find something soon." He nods his head and continues to stir the pot with contemplation before he hastily mumbles.

"I saw Declan today." My brow quirks in feigned surprise. "Oh, you did? What did he want?" He shrugs his shoulders. "He took me out to eat and said he wanted to make sure we were okay. I told him everything was fine and that I didn't need him showing his face if he wasn't interested in being part of my life. I left soon after that. No point in hanging around." A relieved sigh escapes my lips. Even though I know he doesn't bandy our business around, I won't pretend that a small part of me wasn't concerned. It would have been pretty humiliating to know he'd told Declan that I lost my job.

Moving away from the counter, I pat him on the shoulder and head to my room. "I'm going to change. Be out in a few minutes." He nods his head as he reaches for a bowl to pour the mac and cheese in. "Okay." As I make my way to my room, I try to keep my cool and close the door behind me with a slump. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths. However, it doesn't seem to diminish the grinding panic in my stomach. After a few moments, the ache in my stomach abates to a more tolerable level. It doesn't completely fade, but it's not as unbearable as it was a moment ago. I glance up when there's a knock on the door. "Hey, San, dinner's ready." I swallow hard before I reply. "I'll be right out, Connor," I mutter with more control than I feel.

His shadow remains immobile for a few seconds as if he's unsure, then he walks away. I know he's worried, but there's nothing I can do to make things better. Standing up, I change into some comfy sweats and a t-shirt. There's a bowl brimming with mac and cheese in front of my empty seat, and Connor is across the table with is his laptop set in front of him. He nudges his chin towards the plate. "Eat, sis."

I sit down in the old vinyl chair with its peeling yellow cushions and eat. Connor smiles and eats from his own bowl. He knows that Mac and Cheese is my favorite comfort food. When he was little, I used to go to the local food pantry and bring back boxes of it. I would make a bowl for us and feed him as I told him ghost stories. It was our favorite thing to do.

I eat silently as he types away. I can see his face scrunching up in consternation. Somehow, seeing this routine makes me smile. Nothing really changes in some aspects of our lives. Taking another spoonful, I blow on it and take a bite. "So, your Senior year will be over soon. Are you excited?" He looks up from his typing and scrunches up his face. "Hell yeah, I hate school." I snort at his boyish scowl. "Quit being a baby. You're almost done." His scowl deepens. "You only say that because you don't go to that school." I take another bite and roll my eyes. "Whatever little brother."

We both spend the rest of the evening watching television. I try to push our money troubles to the back of my mind, but it's hard to do considering our current financial situation. Throughout the night, I have a moment where I'm just enjoying my evening until the memory of our situation creeps up on me, and I remember how screwed we are. My heart speeds up, and nausea rolls through my stomach at the thought of how close to being homeless we are. However, I don't let Connor see my disquiet. He's already overly concerned about me. He doesn't need to see me falling apart.

Unable to bear the pretense any longer, I rise from the couch and make my excuses. "I'm going to bed, Con. Don't stay up too late." He nods his head and waves his hand in dismissal. Typical Connor behavior, he never bothers to look up from his computer. As I lie in my bed that night, I can't help but feel the weight of my responsibilities. I simply rest my head on my pillow and stare up at the cracked ceiling. The silence is almost deafening, and my melancholy heightens. At that moment, I feel like the ceiling, and I have a lot in common. We're both fragmented, worn, and unable to maintain a façade of perfection.

Eventually, I fall into a restless sleep, but not for long. I feel like I had just closed my eyes when a loud boom startles me from my slumber. My bedroom door bursts open, followed by the shadows of men. I struggle frightened when strong arms drag me out of my bed. A scream lodged in my throat. One of the men muffles my scream with the palm of his hand and pulls me close to his chest. I struggle beneath their restraining hands and kick out as they carry me out of the room. Thankfully, I wore a tank-top and boxers to bed instead of my thin nightgown. My panicked eyes search around the darkness as I try to break loose, but it's hopeless. The roar in my ears dims to a dull hum when I spot them dragging Connor's struggling form from the couch. Four masked men are holding him down, and another three are dragging me across the room. All of the men are wearing black, which doesn't bode well for us. The men are wearing masks that cover their heads and faces. What scares me most is the military-grade guns they're holding.

One of the men laughs at Connor's struggles and punches him hard in the face. It's horrific to watch these men hurt my brother and not be able to do anything about it. The men holding me finally come to a stop and release me. I fall to the floor and cry out when my knees slam against the floor. Falling on all fours, I find myself facing a pair of expensive Italian shoes. To my horror, Mr. Perroni is standing in my living room. His face is set into a cold smile as he gazes down at me. However, that's not what scares me. No, what scares me is the lethal-looking gun that he's aiming at my head. "Well, hello, there, Ms. Vega. Sorry to wake you up so late." He says with a contemptuous sneer. I flinch back at the sight of the gun's barrel and swallow deep. Perroni doesn't give an inch, though. "Did you think I would let you get away with taking my money?" He grits out through clenched teeth. I shake my head, puzzled by his reprimanding words. "What? We didn't take any money." Sneering, Perroni pulls his hand back and slaps me in the face. My head snaps back at the impact, and my ears begin to ring painfully. Tears fall down my stinging cheeks, and my vision dims. The man is a lot stronger than he looks. "San!" Connor cries out my name as he struggles beneath the men's hold. "Leave her alone, Perroni! She doesn't have anything to do with your money!"

Mr. Perroni jeers contemptuously and points the gun at Connor's head. "I suggest you control yourself, boy. You don't want me to kill you. Especially considering you hacked into my accounts and removed my money." He utters in an even voice.

Dread washes over me as I gaze into Connor's eyes with disbelief. "Connor? What? No!" Connor stops struggling and gives me a hopeless look, but he doesn't respond. He doesn't need to respond because the guilty look on his face tells me everything I need to know. I don't relent, though. I would never let anyone hurt my brother.

Taking a deep breath, I maintain my cool as I look into Mr. Perroni's eyes and retort evenly. "What makes you think that Connor broke into your accounts?" Regrettably, Perroni is not easily fooled by my innocent guise. He simply shakes his head and snickers. "Really, Ms. Vega? I know your brother's history. It's not coincidental that I fired you without pay, and the next day, the amount of money you were supposed to be paid miraculously disappears from the books."

Connor snaps in anger and renews his struggles against the men's arms. "It's her money! She worked for it!" Everything happens quickly after that. The men move forward, grab Connor by his shoulders, and begin to wail on him. I cry out when one of the men punches him in the stomach, and another holds his arms back. Connor falls forward and cries out in pain, but he doesn't quit. Instead, he rushes forward and tackles one of the men to the floor. They both fall hard and begin to grapple. Using the men's distraction, I move forward, kick one of the men in the back of the knees, lift a vase from the table, and am about to strike him in the head when the click of a gun resounds across the room. Mr. Perroni is standing over Connor with a gun pointed at his temple. He gives me a malicious smile before he nudges the gun against Connor's head and utters. "I suggest you put your weapon down, Ms. Vega. You don't want your brother here to catch a bullet in his head, do you?" Dread rushes through me at the sight of Connor's terror.

All I can do is place the vase back on the table and hold my hands up in surrender. "Please let my brother go, Mr. Perroni." He gazes at me for a moment, then leans down and digs the gun deeper into Connor's head. "Now, why shouldn't I shoot the boy? He tried to steal from me and threatened me?" Connor's eyes widen defiantly, but he doesn't say a thing, which angers Mr. Perroni further. Sneering at Connor's false bravado, he hits Connor in the head with the butt of his gun and kicks him in the stomach. I gasp when Connor's body slumps over Mr. Perroni's feet in a deadfall. "Connor!" I cry out, crawling to my brother. However, before I can, the other men grab ahold of me and aim their weapons in my direction.

Mr. Perroni rolls Connor's unconscious body to the floor, then looks back at me and tilts his head with a disdainful glare. "I have been nothing but patient with you, Santana. But I can see that you don't appreciate it. That's why it's time to teach you a lesson. I have a friend who likes young nubile girls like you. Maybe you'll appreciate me more after you've been sold and used."

His face changes as he takes a few threatening steps towards me. There's no doubt that he wants to hurt me at that point. Not even his obsession with me will stop him from doing it. I back away when his glare turns into a malicious smile. "I have somewhere more important to go right now, but don't worry, my men are going to take care of you." He signals the three men that dragged me out of my bed to follow him out the door. "Let's go." The men step out the door without another word. Before he steps out, he turns back to the four staying behind and gruffly orders. "Don't hurt them too badly, boys. We can use the boy for his skills." My eyes widen with alarm at his order. Stiffening, I watch as the men approach Connor and me. I know right then that I have to do something, or we're both not going to make it through this intact.