{ZHARA DI MAGGIO}
p r e s e n t t i m e
I guess I forgot that Zion Armani was my enemy. Not because of what happened last night, but because of the time I had spent trying to convince myself not to kill him.
All that time had gone down the drain when I saw my Aunt's family tied to chairs in the goddamn dining room.
Obviously, it wasn't something I was prepared for.
The chairs were separated from the table, pushed to the side so my family wouldn't be near anything they could use to get out of whatever knots Xavier tied them in.
My first instinct was to run to my aunt, uncle, and cousins with the biggest smile on my face, but then I realized what Zion had done.
He clearly never keeps his word, so I guess it won't fucking matter if I don't keep mine.
Turning on my heel, thankful Inan was still behind me, I reached for the gun in his holster, pulling it out and spinning behind him to get out of his reach.
Putting the gun to the back of his skull, I click the safety off and finally look up at the Don himself.
He was smirking, fucking amused by the situation.
"You know, every time I think we have a deal, you go and fuck it up, Zion," I hiss, shoving Inan's back forward with my foot so he falls to his knees, giving me a view of everyone in the room. His hands are up in the air, showing he won't do anything that could risk his or anyone else's life.
Good choice.
"You're such a damn coward," I point my chin out in his direction, watching as he adjusted his suit jacket that seemed to fit his body so well. He glanced in my direction, and suddenly everything from last night hit me like a million bullets. With one shake of his head, he was stalking in my direction.
"Raven, put the gun down before you hurt yourself," he teased, walking even closer, so I pushed the barrel of the gun into the back of Inan's head hard enough that he cursed. Zion paused in his footing, glaring down at me like I was the one who did something wrong.
"Release my family, now," I order, not caring about his little reminder yesterday.
"What did I say about you giving me orders?" he slipped his hands in his pockets, and it took everything in my better judgment not to get distracted by him.
"You say a lot of things, Zion, and half the time you don't mean them. How should I know if that was another one of your pussy comebacks or not?" I flick the knife out of Inan's pocket and put it up to his throat, showing I wasn't playing around.
Honestly, I wouldn't kill him. Maybe a few stabs to prove a point, but they don't gotta know that.
"Zhara, listen to him," my youngest cousin, Lalo, breathes out, sounding exhausted and hurt when I hear him. I glance over at my family, seeing them all with pleading looks on their faces.
The brunette sitting by Lalo is his sister, Ester, who never ever gives up, so whatever is going on must really be fucked up enough to make her stop fighting.
My aunt nods in agreement, giving her usual comforting eyes to me and her husband, Alejandro.
His tall form looked slouched in the stupid dining chair, and the usual brave man I knew was pretending to be strong for his family.
Was this really my fault? Did I do this to them?
I trailed my eyes back over to Zion, ready to drop my weapons.
"What have you done to them?" I questioned with hatred only pointed in his direction.
"No, Zhara. What have you done to them?" he manipulates, trying to push things into my mind just like he always does.
Was I dreaming? No way anyone related to my mother would just give up like this.
"I haven't done anything!" I shout back, accidentally knicking the tip of the knife on Inan's neck, drawing crimson blood. I cursed, knowing what I just said looks really bad right now.
Zion gave me a knowing look, "Are you sure?" he asks rhetorically, looking down at my fingertip that coated in Inan's blood. I shook my head in annoyance, rolling my eyes and gripping the gun tighter in my hand.
"I'm not a fucking monster. Let them go!" I shout back, hoping for any chance of compliance. My eyes burned and my throat hurt with each approaching second, and something inside of me was swelling.
"Zhara, listen to yourself for once," Liam spoke up, crossing his arms as he stood to the side.
"Shut up!" I dug the gun forward again, not knowing what I was doing anymore.
"Come over here and sit down, Zhara, then I will release your family," Zion bargained, but I stopped believing anything he said a long time ago.
"You're lying, just like you always do," I shake my head at him, feeling a million thoughts racing in my mind.
"You always lie," I whisper, closing my eyes for just a second before having to bring myself back to reality. Zion's grey eyes struck me again, giving me some emotion I couldn't read.
Something I know I've seen before.
Something so familiar but so far away.
"You even break your promises, so no, you can shove your damn word up your ass," I gritted out, chucking the knife across the room and holding Inan's head against the gun with my free hand.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," Zion snarled, taking two more steps toward me.
What the fuck is going on?
"I'm not doing anything!" I shouted, rubbing my free hand over my face in frustration. "Let them go!" I shouted again.
But something inside of me was telling me that I was the one doing wrong. It was me, and it was always my fault. It was my fault a few weeks ago, and it was my fault yesterday. It was my fault three years ago, and it was my fault right now.
"I'm going insane," I mumbled under my breath, rubbing the side of my head as if that would stop the constant ringing in my ears.
"It's your fault, Zhara, you did this to them," Zion pointed at me, and suddenly everything was against me. Even my own word.
I shook my head frantically, grimacing at the screams in my brain.
"No, it's not. I didn't do anything to them," I repeated, I didn't even know which 'them' was which at this point.
"Drop the gun, Zhara, you'll hurt them again," he ordered, coming closer than he should in my state.
"No!" I shouted again, pulling the gun away from Inan's head and pushing my palms into my skull, trying to get rid of the pounding noise.
What was happening to me?
I clicked the safety back on the gun and slid it across the floor away from everyone, not giving them a chance to use it against me either.
I wrapped my arms around myself and pried my eyes open, trying to get rid of all the lies screaming at me.
"Zhara, come here," he sounded so comforting, yet so repelling at the same time.
No. No, no, no.
"Zhara, it's okay now," Zion Armani looked me in the eye one last time before I lost it.
"Stop it!" I yelled at him, running past Inan who was recovering and charging straight at him with just myself and no weapons, not realizing that I had another gun pointed at me the entire time.
I didn't have time to brace myself for the impact that could've killed me if I had run a second too fast.
I already had a bullet in me once again before I could actually stand up for myself.
My body hit the ground, and I swear that landing hurt almost as bad as the shot itself. I heard my family yelling for me, and something inside of me relaxed when I realized that they still were on my side at least for this moment.
Tears blurred my vision as my body went numb, something, in particular, I had experienced too many times this month.
I looked up at the ceiling, praying for the moment to come. Praying for the next five seconds to last forever.
Four years ago today, my mother died, laying on her back just like me. Helpless and hopeful all at the same time. She looked up at the sky, choking on her own blood as she prayed for our safety. And here I was, taking complete advantage of it and stomping on it four years later.
I would like to say that I've grown since, maybe became my own person, but I can't.
Because I still haven't lived, and I don't know if I ever will.
I might die here knowing that she's disappointed in me. I might die here knowing my brothers lost me a long time ago. I might die here knowing my own father never gave a shit about me.
I might die here, and there's nothing anyone can do for me anymore.
There's nothing that I can do for myself anymore.
I can lay here and act like I did something for someone. I can pretend I made someone's life better, and say that I helped people and accomplished my goals. I can make up a life to tell others when they ask and how I lived for everyone else.
How I lived for anything.
How I lived for anyone.
But I didn't.
And I can't do anything about it now.