Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 9 - The Search for the Forgotten

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART ONE: Tears Fall When You See The Truth

Chapter 9 - The Search For The Forgotten

Ally turned to leave the conference room but Daniel grabbed her wrist, forcing her to a halt.

"I am sending you alone but remember what will happen should you try to escape again." His hold intensified as he kept her eyes locked in his gaze, noticing when she visibly winced against the pressure.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" he growled, not releasing her to do her assigned task until he was certain he had made his point.

She nodded.

"Answer me with a yes or no, Ally," he demanded, his fingers yet again curling tighter around the tender flesh of her wrist.

"Yes," she snapped, her eyes flashing despite her attempts to calm her rising temper. "I understand."

"Good." Daniil released her and she stormed out of the room. She didn't bother slamming the door behind her, even though the thought tempted her in more ways than one, and instead focused her frustrations into her long strides as she marched down the hallway. Her hair brushed over her shoulders because of her rushed gait and her feet hit the floor in a loud rhythm, the sound echoing around her.

Unbeknownst to her, the noisy footsteps drew the attention of the men who were still gathered around the conference table and they were pleased to find that the wide doorway gave them a perfect view of her backside. As a loud whistle pierced through the air after her, followed by laughter, Ally cursed the few late gang members that had yet to arrive, thus causing the door to be left open while the others awaited their arrival. The sound itself, though, had her drawing to a screeching halt but, regardless, she did not turn around. Even after the next words that escaped one of Daniil's men, she remained frozen in place because she knew that she would not be able to control herself should she gaze upon the offender.

"Hey boss!" a man yelled, his words slightly slurring, giving off the impression that he had participated in some early morning drinking. "Do ya want me tah follow 'er for ya? 'Cause I sure wouldn't mind watchin' that pretty thang walk down the hall in front of meh."

"Duncan," her captor scolded with both amusement and warning, "go find yourself your own woman instead of fantasizing about mine."

Ally kept her back turned to the group as the entire table erupted into rowdy laughter and silently urged herself to let the comments go rather than initiate a fight that she would only be punished for later. For once actually listening to the warnings that her brain was sending her instead of acting rashly, Ally gritted her teeth and walked away with her hands clenched at her sides.

It was only as she entered the grand foyer that her brain registered the ache in her wrist and her fingers instinctively trailed down to the afflicted skin. She winced as she pressed on the area, finding it tender and sore beneath her grasp. Looking down, she realized that the tight grip Daniil had used to keep her in place while he warned her of the consequences of running off once again had left a deep bruise, the discoloration obvious as it wrapped around her wrist.

She growled under her breath, keeping her steps focused although every nerve of her body was tensed and ready, urging her to go back and fight; the instincts installed within her by her older brother.

In her irritation, even the extensive decorating that characterized the long hallway was lost to her. Unlike the first time Daniil had dragged her through its ornate architecture, she did not stop to marvel at the tall, sloping ceiling or the pillars that lined either side of the corridor. Instead, she crossed over the expensive blood red rug, spread out through the foyer like the coveted red carpet seen in celebrity photoshoots, without care. Ally had been forced to accompany her master throughout the main floor enough that she had come to know her way around the first level of the grand mansion, causing her steps to be automatic as she left the foyer behind and entered the hallway that led to the kitchen.