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

Chapter 52 - The Burden of Love

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART THREE :: Cast Your Armor Down

Chapter 52 - The Burden of Love

Ally paced in front of the door, her footsteps ringing through the silence. Her finger ran across the top of the bracelet that encircled her wrist, feeling for any crack that might provide enough space for her to pry it apart, but found none. If she hadn't been present when Aiden had put it on her wrist, she would have sworn that it didn't open.

Scowling at her feet as they shuffled across the carpet, Ally realized that her chances of escaping now were slim to none. Aiden's technology seemed to be top notch and judging from the tracking bracelet he had assembled, the other security precautions would be impossible to breach. The biggest problem was that even if, by some miracle, she managed to get out of the gang base in one piece, the tracking bracelet would alert them to her location, meaning such an escape attempt would be futile.

Walking into her bathroom, she went straight for the sink. Turning on the water, Ally grabbed the soap and lathered her wrist up with it. Placing the hand with the bracelet firmly on the counter, she used the other one to push down on the bracelet, moving her body weight into her task.

The bracelet had only moved about an inch down her hand when it suddenly tightened, squeezing her thumb against her palm. She cried out, lifting her hand off the counter and cradling it to her chest. Cursing under her breath, she changed tactics to push it back onto her wrist, deciding that taking the thing off was obviously not possible.

Suddenly the bracelet clenched tighter once again, causing her to bite her lip so hard it drew blood. Tears streamed from her eyes as she whimpered, hearing her thumb snap out of place. Ally held her restrained wrist in her other hand, observing the blotchy, red skin around the bracelet.

A scream of agony tore its way from her throat as she fell to her knees. Tears streamed unchecked from her eyes as she tried desperately to pry the bracelet from around her hand, clawing at it blindly in an attempt to get a grip on it and pull it off.

A warm presence suddenly appeared behind her, pulling her into a man's lap. Strong arms wrapped around her. "Stop pulling at it," Kyle commanded, pulling her hand away from the bracelet, "that only makes it worse."

"But my t-thumb," Ally sobbed, trying to communicate how much the bracelet was hurting her.

"I know, but you have to trust me to help you, okay?"

She nodded, clenching her teeth against the pain. Kyle gently spun her around, careful not to jostle her injured hand as he laced his fingers through hers. He tightened his other arm around her, guiding her head to his shoulder.

"There's nothing we can do but wait for it to loosen back up. Until then, I want you to squeeze my hand when the pain is really bad and scream or cry into my shoulder, whichever helps you feel better. Can you do that for me?"

Ally nodded, leaning into his embrace and resting her head on his shoulder, letting her tears soak into his shirt. Her fingers tightened over his to the point that she was sure she had to be cutting off his circulation but he never once complained, only held her tighter.

After what felt like hours of waiting in agony, but was most likely only a couple minutes, the bracelet loosened slightly. Ally clenched her hand into a fist, her nails biting into Kyle's hand, as her thumb shifted.

"I'm going to have to push it back quickly so it doesn't tighten again," he explained, releasing her hand, revealing five bleeding cuts on his.

"Your hand..."