The next few days went by
quietly but not in the Miller household. It was Friday morning and as early as
6 am, Silas Vane had barged in and taken Zane away. He had dragged Zane to his
warehouse and had his boys beat him up.
Zane fell, hitting his
body against the cold floor. He gasped in horror as pain seared through his
side.
"Nngh…please…"
Silas's boots pressed
against his ribs, sending waves of pain to his brain. He wasn't sure which part
of him hurt more, his body, or the parts inside that had given up long before
the beating started.
Silas Vane stood over him,
sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing the dreadful tattoo inked on his arms, his
knuckles dusted in blood.
He was perfectly calm,
like he was choosing wine and not somebody's fate.
"You don't borrow what you
can't repay boy."
Zane struggled to sit up
but his body was in so much pain. His ribs hurt like hell and he just couldn't
move.
"I... I'll get it… I… I
swear, I just need more time… please".
"You see," Silas said,
almost conversationally, "what I can't stand more than thieves… are cowards.
You came to me, Zane." He chuckled. "All charm, no backbone. You looked me in
the eye and promised you'd pay back ten grand and then disappeared."
Zane swallowed thickly.
His mouth tasted of blood and panic.
"I… I had every
intention…"
"Don't insult me." Silas
cut in immediately.
He crouched beside Zane,
his voice getting softer.
"The second you touched my
money you should have known this day would come, you filth".
Zane shivered in fear as
he felt Silas dragging the back of his gloved hand across his shoulders like he
was brushing off filth.
Silas rose.
Behind him, one of his
burly men stepped forward. He was thick-necked, had cracked knuckles, and his
palms were coarse from a lot of hard work. A man built to torture.
His face was void of any
emotions as he walked over to where Zane was sprawled on the ground.
Zane with all of his
strength tried to get up and run but all he could do was crawl away to some
distance as his wallet slipped from his inside jacket pocket. It landed
face-up, half open.
Silas bent down and picked
it up, simply for amusement. He thumbed through it slowly as if not noticing
the wails from Zane as he was being beaten up.
Receipts, expired bus
tickets, and folded cash may be worth 20 bucks at most. And then, he stopped.
A photo. The woman's face
smiled back at him, soft waves of dark hair, clean features, a kind of quiet
pride in her eyes that cameras couldn't fake.
He studied it for a long
moment.
Stop!" He yelled at the
burly man who was enjoying his moment with Zane.
"Who is she?" He lifted
the photo of Zane.
What?" Zane managed to
open his eyes.
"This chick," he brought
the photo closer to Zane's eyes so he could see. "Doesn't look like your
girlfriend. Too good for that, your sister?"
Zane hesitated he had
forgotten that the picture was even in his wallet, he had taken it to show his
friends he had a beautiful sister when they didn't believe him.
Silas's kick to his
stomach brought him to the present. It seemed a wound had reopened from the
pain he felt.
Try again", Silas looked
at him.
"Okay, okay, okay. She's…
yeah, she's my sister". Zane uttered immediately, not wanting to relive another
torture.
Silas looked back at the
picture. A cold smile played on his lips.
"Pretty", he said softly,
his eyes betraying a bit of lust.
"So here's what we'll do".
Zane's stomach twisted
before the words even landed.
"Bring her to me, one
night". He placed the photo back in the wallet and put it back in his jacket
pocket, like a contract.
"You make that happen… and
I'll forget your debt".
Zane stared at him, heart
pounding in his ears.
"What…what are you saying?
You want me to sell out my sister?"
Silas rose to his full
height, adjusting his sleeves, tone suddenly bored again.
"Don't be dramatic. I'm
giving you a way out. You think I don't know what losing fifty grand feels
like?" He glanced back over his shoulder, "or an arm?"
Zane couldn't speak. He
could barely breathe.
"Your move, little
brother," Silas said, walking away with a faint smile. "Clock's ticking. And
let's be honest…"
He looked back. "We both
know she's worth a lot more than fifty thousand."
At the Miller residence,
Mrs. Miller paced around the living room worriedly, she was going frantic at
the thought of her son without an arm.
Her husband Mr. Miller
tried to calm her down but couldn't as he was also worried. But Zane had gotten
himself into this and they couldn't do anything about it. Selena was their only
hope but she had refused, she wasn't wrong though, she didn't deserve to pay
for Zane's mishaps.
The front door unlocking
drew them away from their thoughts. Zane walked in, so much in pain and his
mother tried to help him.
"Oh my goodness, Zane!
What have they done to my poor boy?" Her eyes snapped to Zane's bruises, her
heart aching as she saw her son in so much pain.
He immediately dropped
onto the edge of the couch groaning in pain as he clutched his side.
"Your arm, it's okay?" She
looked at him surprised, "What exactly happened?"
Zane nodded, his voice a
bit strained, "He gave me a way out".
"What way?" Mrs. Miller's
eyes narrowed.
"He saw Selena's picture
in my wallet", Zane looked away.
A long silence stretched
between them.
"And?" Mrs. Miller asked
impatiently.
Zane's head dropped into
his hands. "He wants her. Just for one night. He says if I bring her to him,
the debt disappears."
"And?" she said again,
louder this time.
"Mom?!"
She stood up, pouring him
a glass of water from the bottle.
"Don't start with your
moral garbage now. That girl hasn't lifted a finger for this family since she
left. You think she's coming up with fifty grand anytime soon? You think she's
sitting around worried about your arm?"
"She's my sister," Zane
murmured, eyes glossy.
Mrs. Miller scoffed.
"She's not your blood.
She's a stray we took in. All she does is come in here with her fancy coat and
her silence, like she's better than all of us."
She sat beside him,
leaning in, her voice now calm and cold like a scalpel.
"Look, it's one night.
She's a grown woman. You think she hasn't been with worse men in her life?
She'll be fine. You, on the other hand… if they take your arm, you'll never
recover. Not from that."
Zane didn't move.
"You're asking me to offer
up my sister like some… like some…"
"I'm asking you to
survive."
She stood again, arms
crossed.
"She made her choice when
she walked out of this house. You make yours. And for once, make the right
one."
Mr. Miller said nothing as
always. He never did.