Carrying Sane in my arms, I stumbled onto the farm—ho at last. Her frail, lifeless form sent tremors through my hands, a visceral fear clawing at . ‘If you lose her, it’s the end of everything.’ The thought gnawed at , like a literal speaker inside my head. I pushed through the familiar doorway and entered the house.
Inside, I eased her onto the bed, my heart hamring.
I needed help—now.
I snatched the phone to call Dr. Phillip when a sharp voice sliced through the quiet.
“Who are you!?” a man barked from behind .
I whirled around, nerves raw.
A stranger stood there, posture stiff, eyes glinting with distrust.
“What do you an, ‘who am I?’” I snapped. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?”
“Your house?” He sneered. “You an my house.”
He didn’t look deranged, but his words were nonsense. I didn’t have ti for this. With a surge of frustration, I seized his collar, hauled him outside, and slamd the door, locking it tight. Sane was my priority—everything else could burn.
I raced to fetch Dr. Phillip, my mind churning with dread. When we returned, the stranger was back, this ti with Ian, our farm manager, trailing beside him. I brushed past them, guiding the doctor to Sane. He stitched her wounds with steady hands and dosed her with painkillers. As her breathing evened out, the suffocating darkness in my chest began to lift, and my thoughts cleared—just enough.
I turned to Ian, voice taut. “What’s going on? Who is this guy, and where’s my sister?”
Ian shifted, uneasy. “Your brother sold the farm after you left.”
The words slamd into like a fist. “He sold the farm?”
“Yeah,” Ian said, guilt shadowing his face. “I couldn’t stop him. He took Miss Angela, too. I tried reaching you, but you left no trace, and the police were no help.”
Fury ignited beneath my skin—one blow after another. I wheeled on the stranger. “Listen, Mr.—”
“Forkglass,” he cut in.
“Mr. Forkglass,” I said, my voice a blade of ice, “the farm’s not for sale. Whatever my brother swindled from you, I’ll repay. But you need to get out—now.”
Kled had gone too far, and I was done with gas. “Ian, stay with Sane. I’ll be back soon.”
With Sane out of danger, I stord into town, hunting my brother.
He was a dealer, so I tore through clubs and shadowed alleys, rage fueling every step. No sign of him. I switched tactics—grabbed a jittery junkie off the street, who pointed to his supplier, who led to Kled’s den: a grimy hotel where he ruled his empire.
I slipped past his guards, a ghost in the chaos, and breached his office. There he was—Kled—locked in a tense deal with four rough figures: three n and a woman.
I didn’t care.
“Kled,” I growled.
He snapped his head toward , eyes flaring. “Cipher! How did you—”
“Where’s Angela?” I demanded.
One of the n lurched to his feet, hand hovering near his gun. “Big K, who’s this clown? You double-crossing us?”
Kled waved him off, voice tight. “Relax, he’s my brother.”
“Your brother?” The man spat. “Call us when you’re serious about business.” He stord out, the others in tow.
Kled’s face darkened with fury. “What the hell, Cipher? You know who those people are? You’re begging to die!”
“Why’d you sell the farm?” I shot back. “You had no right.”
“No right?” He laughed, sharp and bitter. “You disappear after killing so guy, and now you’re preaching to ? I had every right!”
“That farm’s our legacy—Grandma’s, Dad’s. It’s ho,” I roared, voice breaking. “You don’t get to sell it like it’s trash! Where’s the money? I’m taking it back.”
“You’re serious?” he scoffed.
I triggered the Solid State, letting its power hum through —a warning. I expected him to flinch, but he stepped closer, eyes blazing.
“So it’s true—you’re one of those freaks going about murdering people. What, you gonna kill too? I didn’t build this empire by fearing punks like you.”
Freaks. The word hit like a slap, rekindling emotions I’d buried deep. They surged back now, fierce and uncontainable.
I didn’t want this confrontation—not with him, not now—but the words spilled out, edged with years of pent-up frustration.
“I don’t want to fight you. Just give the money and tell where Angela is. Do that, and I’ll leave you to continue with your shady business.”
Kled’s eyes narrowed, and for a fleeting mont, I caught a glint of disappointnt flickering across his weathered face. It threw off balance.
“Damn! I almost forgot those eyes. That’s the Cipher I rember,” he rasped, his voice rough like gravel scraped over stone.
I didn’t know what he ant—didn’t have the luxury to unravel it.
With a sharp jerk, he yanked open a drawer, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and flung it at . The bills hit my chest with a dull thud. “Do whatever you want with the farm! But Angela stays with !”
My hands balled into fists, nails digging into my skin.
“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving her with a drug dealer! You abandoned us! Abandoned Mom—let her die—for this dirty money!”
He charged at , his fist slamming into my jaw. Pain flared in his knuckles.
He stumbled back, blood seeping from split skin, cursing under his breath. “I loved Mom!” he roared, his voice breaking like a dam giving way. “Do you know how much I curse myself for not being there to save her?”
“Then don’t let the sa thing happen to our sister,” I shot back, stepping into his space, my voice taut with urgency. “You know this place isn’t safe for her!”
Kled’s face contorted, a storm of rage and guilt brewing in his dark eyes. “Who do you think I am? You think I’d let her get involved in this shit?” His shout ricocheted off the grimy walls, raw and jagged.
We stood there, chests heaving, locked in a silent standoff.
I ant every word I’d hurled at him, and from the way his shoulders sagged, I knew he did too. He turned, collapsing into his chair as if the fight had bled him dry. “She’s my sister too,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Go see her. Sixth floor, room ten.”
His sudden shift to sincerity felt like a lifeline tossed across a chasm, but trusting a criminal’s word was a gamble I wasn’t sure I could take. I snatched the money and stord out, my boots pounding the creaking stairs of the hotel. Each step upward thickened the air with the stench of mildew and stale despair.
At room ten, I rapped on the door, the sound cutting through the oppressive quiet. It cracked open, and Angela’s wide eyes locked onto mine—then the door slamd shut again, a wall between us.
My gut twisted.
“Angela,” I called, pressing my palm against the splintered wood. “It’s —Cipher, your brother.”
Had she forgotten my face?
“I don’t have a brother like you!” Her voice sliced through the barrier, sharp with betrayal.
“What do you an? Co on, let’s go back ho!”
The door swung open, and before I could reach for her, she spat in my face, her glare burning with a fury I hadn’t seen coming. “You’re dead to ! Go away!”
I wiped the spit from my cheek and stepped inside, ignoring her resistance. “I’m sorry, Angela. Forgive —I didn’t think Kled would sell the farm—”
“Kled didn’t do anything wrong!” she snapped, shoving with hands that trembled from anger. “He took care of while you vanished for almost a year! Mom died, and you left alone.”
Her words landed like a blade, cutting deeper than I’d braced for. Tears stread down her face, and I pulled her into my arms, holding her as she shook with sobs. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting you. I’m here now—everything’s going to be alright. Let’s go ho.”
She tore herself free, swiping at her tears with a fierce motion. “I’m staying here.”
“Don’t be stubborn. It’s not safe here.”
“It’s Kled’s hotel,” she retorted, crossing her arms defiantly. “I’ve been fine with him.”
“His hotel?” The truth sank in, heavy and cold. Kled’s relentless ambition had built this place—brick by brick, paid for with blood money. It was only a matter of ti before that world swallowed her too.
I pleaded with her to co back to the farm, but her anger was an iron gate, locked tight. Defeated, I left, her rejection echoing in my chest like a hollow drum.
Back at the farm, I used Kled’s cash to buy it back from the man he’d sold it to—Forkglass, a na as sharp as his dealings.
The next day, Angela appeared at the gate, bags slung over her shoulder, her face still carved with resentnt. She didn’t speak, her silence a punishnt I couldn’t argue against. But she was here. We were together again.
Pain, blood, or harmony—whatever waited ahead, we’d face it as family. It was ti to move forward.
Reviews
All reviews (0)