The Battle of the Triad
Bella woke to cold.
Not the gentle cold of air conditioning or an open window. This was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones—the cold of concrete floors and metal walls and death.
Her head throbbed. Each pulse of pain felt like someone was driving a nail through her skull.
She tried to move her hands and felt plastic bite into her wrists.
Zip ties.
Her eyes fluttered open. The world swam into focus slowly—blurry shapes resolving into harsh fluorescent lights overhead, hanging carcasses suspended from hooks, dark stains on the floor that could have been grease or blood or both.
The smell hit her next. Rust and old meat and something sharper—gunpowder, maybe. Or fear.
Bella's breath came in short gasps. She was sitting in a metal folding chair, her hands zip-tied in front of her.
To her left, Hela sat in a similar position, her head hanging forward, blood trickling from a cut above her eyebrow.
To her right, Mara was slumped in her chair, still unconscious.
"Hela," Bella whispered. Her voice came out hoarse, cracked.
Hela's head lifted slowly. Her eyes were unfocused at first, then sharpened as she took in their surroundings.
"Fuck," Hela breathed.
They were in the front section of the butcher shop now—the main floor where the hanging carcasses cast long shadows across the concrete. The cold room door stood open behind them, a dark mouth leading to the empty torture chamber below.
Bella's eyes swept across the room.
Markus's men were on the floor.
All three of them.
Some were face-down, unmoving. Others were on their sides, their breathing shallow and labored. Dark pools spread beneath them—blood mixing with the grime on the concrete.
One man—the youngest, maybe twenty-five—had his eyes open, staring at nothing. A bullet wound in his chest still leaked slowly.
Dead or dying, Bella thought. All of them.
Her stomach twisted.
To the right, near the front entrance, Bron was tied on the floor. Not in a chair like the girls—on his knees, his hands zip-tied behind his back, a gag shoved in his mouth. Four of his men were beside him in similar positions, their faces bruised and bloodied.
Traitors.
That's what they looked like. Prisoners of war.
Four men stood around the perimeter of the room—Kain's men. They were armed with handguns tucked into waistbands, crowbars and bats leaning against the walls within easy reach. They watched the girls like hawks, their expressions cold and predatory.
And in the center of it all stood Kain.
Now that she got a good look at him, he was younger than Bella though—mid-thirties, maybe, with sharp features and dark eyes that held no warmth. He wore a black jacket over a white shirt, both pristine despite the carnage around him.
Beside him stood the informant.
The man from the alley. The one who'd given them Bron's location.
Bella's breath caught.
He sold us out.
The informant met her gaze and looked away quickly, his jaw tight.
Kain noticed Bella's eyes open. He smiled—a thin, humorless expression.
"Good," he said. "You're awake."
He stepped forward and backhanded Hela across the face.
The crack echoed through the room.
Hela's head snapped to the side, blood spraying from her split lip.
"Wake up," Kain said.
Then he moved to Mara and slapped her hard across the cheek.
Mara jerked awake with a gasp, her eyes wild and unfocused.
"There we go," Kain said, stepping back. "Now we can talk."
Bella's heart was pounding. Her wrists ached where the zip ties cut into her skin. She could feel blood trickling down the back of her neck from where she'd been hit.
Kain's eyes moved between the three women, assessing them.
"I know you," he said, pointing at Hela. "Markus's right hand. His cousin, if the rumors are true."
Hela said nothing. Her expression was cold, unreadable.
Kain's gaze shifted to Mara. "And you—I don't know. But you're with her, so you're part of Markus's crew."
Then his eyes landed on Bella.
"But you," he said slowly. "I don't know you."
Bella's throat was dry. She forced herself to meet his gaze.
"You're the one who escaped," Kain continued. "The day we grabbed him. You ran."
Bella's pulse quickened.
"And you're the one he won't talk for," Kain said. "We've had him for days. Broken ribs. Dislocated shoulder. Burns. And he won't say a fucking word. Won't even tell us his name."
Bella's chest tightened. Jack. Oh god, Jack.
"So who are you?" Kain asked.
Bella swallowed hard. "I'm his girl."
Kain's eyebrows rose slightly. "His girl."
"Yes."
"Interesting." Kain crossed his arms. "I thought you two were part of Markus's gang. Didn't realize you were just some random couple who got caught in the crossfire."
Bella didn't correct him. Let him think what he wanted.
Kain studied her for a long moment. Then he pulled out a phone—not his own, one of the burner phones his men carried.
He dialed a number and held it to his ear.
Bella's heart was racing.
The phone rang twice. Then a voice answered—gruff, impatient.
"What?"
"Put him on," Kain said.
A pause. Then: "He's not in any condition to—"
"Put. Him. On."
Another pause. Bella heard muffled voices in the background, the sound of something heavy being dragged.
Then a new voice came on the line.
Weak. Hoarse. Barely recognizable.
"Hello?"
Bella's breath caught.
Jack.
Kain held the phone toward Bella. "Speak."
Bella's hands were shaking. "Jack?"
A pause. Then: "Bella?"
His voice cracked on her name. It was so full of pain—physical and emotional—that Bella felt tears spring to her eyes.
"Jack, I'm—"
Kain pulled the phone back.
"That's enough," he said into the phone. Then he hung up.
Bella's chest heaved. She wanted to scream, to beg him to call back, to let her hear Jack's voice again.
But Kain was already turning away, sliding the phone into his pocket.
"So," he said. "Now that we've established who you are—let's talk about why you're here."
He gestured to the informant. "My friend here tells me you have something interesting. A video."
Bella's stomach dropped.
Kain's eyes narrowed. "Where is it?"
Bella looked at Hela. Hela's expression was unreadable.
"My phone," Bella said quietly. "Left pocket."
Kain stepped forward and reached into Bella's jacket. His fingers brushed against her side as he pulled out her phone.
He held it up to her face.
The phone unlocked.
Kain swiped through the screen, his expression curious. Then he found the video folder and clicked on the first file.
The video started playing.
Bron and Vivian in the hotel room. Kissing. Undressing.
Kain's face went pale.
He stared at the screen, his jaw working.
On the video, Bron pushed Vivian onto the bed. She moaned as he kissed her neck, her hands pulling at his shirt.
"I'm going to be Kain's new step daddy," Bron's voice came through the phone's speaker.
Kain's hand tightened on the phone.
"Give me a baby," Vivian gasped.
The phone slipped from Kain's fingers.
It hit the concrete with a crack, the screen going dark.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Kain turned slowly toward Bron.
Bron's eyes were wide, his face pale. He tried to speak through the gag, muffled sounds of panic.
Kain crossed the room in three strides.
He grabbed Bron by the hair and yanked him forward, slamming his face into the concrete.
Bron's muffled scream echoed through the room.
Kain pulled him up and slammed him down again.
And again.
And again.
Blood sprayed across the floor. Bron's nose shattered with a wet crunch.
"You fucking piece of shit," Kain snarled. "You fucking piece of shit."
He hauled Bron up and threw him against the wall. Bron hit hard, his head snapping back.
Kain's fist connected with Bron's ribs. Once. Twice. Three times.
Bron doubled over, gagging against the gag.
One of Kain's men stepped forward. "Boss—"
"Bring her out," Kain said, his voice cold.
The man hesitated. "Boss, are you sure—"
"Bring. Her. Out."
The man disappeared into the back of the shop.
Bella's heart was pounding. Her? Who—
A moment later, the man reappeared.
He was holding a woman by the arm.
Vivian.
She looked terrified. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her makeup smeared. She wore the same clothes from the video—a silk blouse and slacks, now wrinkled and disheveled.
"Kain," she said, her voice shaking. "Kain, please—"
"Shut up," Kain said.
He grabbed Bron by the hair again and forced him to his knees in the center of the room.
Then he looked at Vivian.
"Watch," he said.
"Kain, no—"
"Watch."
Kain's fist slammed into Bron's face.
Bron's head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his mouth.
Kain hit him again. And again.
"Was it worth it?" Kain shouted. "Was he worth it?"
Vivian was sobbing now, her hands covering her mouth.
Kain grabbed Bron's jaw and forced him to look at Vivian.
"Look at her," Kain snarled. "Look at what you did."
Bron's eyes were swollen, his face a mask of blood.
Kain hit him again.
"You fucked my mother," Kain said, his voice shaking with rage. "You fucked my mother."
He slammed Bron's head into the floor.
Vivian screamed. "Stop! Please, Kain, stop!"
But Kain didn't stop.
He pulled Bron up and hit him again. And again.
Bron's men were struggling against their restraints now, their faces twisted with fury. One of them was shouting through his gag, his eyes locked on Kain.
Bella looked at Mara.
Mara's eyes were on the floor—on a knife that had fallen from one of Markus's men during the ambush. It was three feet away, just out of reach.
Mara shifted her foot slowly, trying to hook the knife with her toe.
Hela noticed. She glanced at Bella, then at the phone lying on the floor near her chair.
Bella understood.
While Kain continued to pummel Bron, Hela shifted her chair slightly, using her feet to push the phone toward Bella.
It slid across the concrete, inch by inch.
Kain was screaming now, his fists slamming into Bron's ribs, his face, his chest.
"You betrayed me!" Kain shouted. "You were my friend! My friend!"
Vivian collapsed to her knees, sobbing. "Please, Kain. Please stop. I'll never see him again. I promise. Just stop."
Kain paused, his chest heaving.
He looked at his mother.
"You promise?" he said, his voice dripping with venom.
"Yes," Vivian sobbed. "Yes, I promise. Just don't kill him. Please."
Kain stared at her for a long moment.
Then he spat on Bron's bloodied face and stepped back.
"Fine," he said.
Vivian let out a shaky breath.
But Kain wasn't done.
He turned to one of his men. "Hold her."
The man grabbed Vivian's arms, pulling her to her feet.
"Kain, what are you—"
"You're going to watch," Kain said. "You're going to watch what happens when you betray me."
He pulled a gun from his waistband.
"No!" Vivian screamed. "No, Kain, please—"
Kain pointed the gun at Bron's head.
Bron's eyes widened. He tried to speak, to beg, but the gag muffled everything.
The phone was at Bella's feet.
She squeezed it between her shoes, lifting it off the ground. Her legs shook with the effort as she raised her knees, bringing the phone closer to her bound hands.
Her fingers brushed the edge of the phone.
Come on. Come on.
She grabbed it.
Her hands were shaking as she unlocked the screen and opened her messages.
She typed quickly: BUTCHER SHOP. NOW. HURRY.
She hit send.
One of Kain's men turned his head.
"Hey—"
He saw the phone in Bella's hands.
"Boss!"
Kain's head snapped toward Bella.
The man crossed the room in two strides and snatched the phone from her hands.
He looked at the screen. "She sent a text."
Kain's eyes narrowed. "To who?"
Bella didn't answer.
Kain grabbed her by the throat, his grip tight enough to make her gasp.
"Who did you text?" he snarled.
Bella kicked him in the balls.
Kain doubled over with a grunt, his grip loosening.
Bella gasped for air, her chest heaving.
Kain straightened slowly, his face twisted with rage. He raised his hand, ready to backhand her across the face.
But before he could—
"Uh, boss," one of his men said from the window. "There's people approaching."
Kain froze.
"How many?"
"I don't know. A few."
Kain cursed under his breath.
Mara moved.
She tipped her chair sideways, crashing to the floor. The impact jarred her, but she was horizontal now, her feet closer to the knife.
Hela followed, tipping her chair over.
Bella was last, throwing her weight to the side. The chair hit the concrete hard, pain shooting through her shoulder.
And then—
Gunfire.
The front window exploded inward, glass raining down across the floor.
One of Kain's men—the one nearest the window—took a bullet to the head. His body crumpled instantly, blood spraying across the wall behind him.
The other men dove for cover, pulling their guns and returning fire.
The sound was deafening. Bullets tore through the air, punching holes in the walls, ricocheting off metal hooks.
Mara stretched her leg as far as it would go, her toes brushing the knife handle.
She hooked it and dragged it closer.
Her fingers closed around the blade. She twisted it, cutting through the zip tie on her wrists.
The plastic snapped.
She was free.
Mara scrambled to Hela first, cutting her loose. Then Bella.
Bella's hands were shaking as the zip tie fell away. She rubbed her wrists, feeling blood return to her fingers.
Hela crawled toward Markus.
He was lying on his back, his chest rising and falling in shallow, labored breaths. Blood soaked through his shirt—a bullet wound just below his collarbone.
Hela pressed her fingers to his neck, checking his pulse.
"He's alive," she said. "Barely."
Bella's chest tightened. We have to get him out of here.
But the gunfire was still raging.
One of Bron's men—the one closest to the front—used his teeth to pull at the zip tie on his wrists. It took him three tries, but the plastic finally snapped.
He grabbed a knife from one of Markus's fallen men and cut his allies loose.
Then he moved to Bron.
Bron's face was a mess—swollen, bloodied, barely recognizable. But his eyes were sharp, focused.
The man cut Bron's restraints and pulled the gag from his mouth.
Bron gasped for air, his chest heaving.
"Protect her," he said, his voice hoarse.
The man nodded and moved toward Vivian.
Kain saw him.
"Don't you fucking touch her!" Kain shouted.
He raised his gun and pointed it at Bron's man.
Bron's men raised their guns in response.
Suddenly, the room was a standoff.
Kain's men on one side. Bron's men on the other.
Guns pointed. Fingers on triggers.
The gunfire from outside had stopped. Either Markus's backup was dead, or they were out of bullets, or they were regrouping.
Bella didn't know which.
She pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding.
Hela grabbed a gun from one of Kain's dead men and scrambled back to the corner where Bella and Mara were huddled.
"Stay down," Hela hissed.
Vivian stepped forward.
"Stop," she said, her voice shaking. "Please. Both of you. Stop."
Kain's jaw tightened. "Get back, Mom."
"No." Vivian moved into the center of the room, between the two groups of armed men. "I won't let you kill each other."
"He betrayed me," Kain said, his voice cold.
"I know," Vivian said. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Kain. But if you keep fighting like this, you'll both end up dead."
Kain's gun wavered slightly.
"I'll stop seeing him," Vivian said. "I promise. I'll never see Bron again. Just—please. Put the guns down."
Kain stared at her for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he lowered his gun.
Bron didn't.
Vivian turned to him, tears streaming down her face.
"Bron," she said softly. "Please."
Bron's hand was shaking. His face was a mask of blood and pain, but his eyes were locked on Vivian.
"I love you," Vivian said. "I do. But I love him too. And I can't watch you both destroy each other."
She crossed the room and took Bron's face in her hands.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Then she kissed him.
It was slow. Tender. Heartbreaking.
Kain's face twisted with disgust and pain.
When Vivian pulled back, Bron lowered his gun.
Hela saw it.
The peace. The ceasefire.
No.
If they made peace now, both gangs would survive. They'd regroup. Come back stronger.
And Markus's gang would be caught in the middle.
Hela raised her gun.
She aimed at one of Kain's men—the one standing near the back, his gun lowered.
She pulled the trigger.
The man screamed, clutching his foot as blood poured from the wound.
Hela screamed too, making it sound like she'd been hit.
"They shot him!" She shouted. "Bron's men shot him!"
"What? No—" Bron started.
But it was too late.
Kain raised his gun and fired.
The bullet hit one of Bron's men in the chest.
And then the room exploded.
Gunfire erupted from both sides. Men dove for cover, shouting, cursing, shooting.
Bella scrambled toward the counter at the back of the room, her hands and knees scraping against the concrete.
Mara was right behind her.
Hela moved to follow—
A bullet tore through the air, missing Bella by inches.
She stumbled, her foot slipping in a pool of blood.
Another shot.
This one hit her.
Bella screamed as pain exploded in her left foot. She collapsed, her hands clutching her ankle.
Blood poured between her fingers.
She tried to crawl, but her leg wouldn't work. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony through her body.
A shadow fell over her.
Bella looked up.
One of Kain's men stood above her, his gun pointed down at her face.
"Should've stayed out of this," he said.
Bella's breath caught.
The man's finger tightened on the trigger.
And then—
BANG.
The man's head snapped back, a spray of blood and brain matter erupting from the exit wound.
He collapsed.
Behind him stood one of Bron's men—the same one who'd cut Bron loose.
He rushed forward and scooped Bella up in his arms.
"I got you," he said. "I got you."
He carried her behind the counter, setting her down beside Mara and Hela.
"You're okay," he said. "I'll protect you. All of you."
Bella didn't ask why. Didn't question it.
She just nodded, her hands pressing against the wound in her foot.
The gunfire continued.
Bullets punched through the walls, shattered the remaining windows, tore through hanging carcasses.
And then—
The front door burst open.
Two of Markus's backup men stormed in, guns raised.
They fired methodically, clearing the room.
One of Kain's men went down. Then another.
Bron's men took cover, but they were outnumbered now.
One by one, they fell.
Kain tried to run for the back exit.
A bullet caught him in the spine.
He collapsed, his legs giving out beneath him.
Bron raised his gun, trying to aim at one of Markus's men.
But his hands were shaking too badly. His face was too swollen. He couldn't see straight.
A bullet hit him in the chest.
He staggered back, his gun falling from his hands.
He looked at Vivian.
She was on her knees, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
Bron tried to say something. But blood filled his mouth, choking off the words.
He collapsed.
The gunfire stopped.
The room was silent except for the ringing in Bella's ears and the sound of labored breathing.
Bella looked around.
Kain was on the floor, still alive but paralyzed, his eyes staring at the ceiling.
Bron was dead.
All of Kain's men were dead.
All of Bron's men were dead.
Vivian crawled across the floor, her hands shaking.
She reached Bron first. She cradled his head in her lap, her tears falling onto his bloodied face.
Then she moved to Kain.
He was still breathing, but barely. Blood pooled beneath him.
"Mom," he whispered.
Vivian took his hand.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry."
Kain's eyes closed.
Vivian sat there, holding both of them—her son and her lover—as they died.
She looked around the room. At the bodies. At the blood. At the girls huddled behind the counter.
Her eyes were empty. Hollow.
She reached for a gun lying on the floor beside Bron's body.
"No—" Hela started.
Vivian raised the gun to her temple.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
BANG.
Her body slumped forward, falling across Bron's chest.
Bella stared, her breath coming in short gasps.
She's dead. They're all dead. She felt like throwing up.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.
"We need to move," Hela said. "Now."
She and one of Markus's men grabbed Markus under the arms, hauling him to his feet.
He groaned, his head lolling forward.
"Come on," Hela said to Bella and Mara. "Move."
Bella tried to stand, but her foot wouldn't hold her weight.
The Bron man who'd saved her stepped forward. "I'll carry her."
"No," Hela said sharply. "You're not coming."
"I saved her life."
"And we're grateful. But you're not coming with us."
The man's jaw tightened. "I'm not staying here. The cops will pin this on me."
"Not our problem."
Bella looked at the man. At his bloodied hands. At the desperation in his eyes.
"Hela—" she started.
"No," Hela said firmly.
They reached the door. Markus's men were already outside, loading Markus into the car.
The sirens were close now. Maybe two blocks away.
The Bron man followed them out, his hands raised.
"Please," he said. "I'm begging you. I can help."
"We don't need your help," Hela said.
"I know where Jack is."
Everyone froze.
Bella's heart stopped.
"What?" she whispered.
The man looked at her. "I know where they're keeping him. I can take you there."
Hela stared at him, her eyes narrowed.
The sirens were one block away now.
"Get in the fucking car," Hela said.