[This story is complete and being edited.]
Armed racing is Atropellado's deadliest and most profitable sport. And wherever there is profit in Atro, there is crime.
Gervassio Blaze has left his most prized possession - ownership of the armed racing f...
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Lancet had hazy recollections of being supported off of the cruiser, of their family's doc shining a blasted light in both eyes, and the squeak of gurney wheels. The mob boss didn't know at what point he finally gave into sleep, whether naturally or through something the doc injected, but waking up felt even more terrible than when he was shot in the first place.
The sting of bleach assaulted his sense of smell, and his mouth tasted like he'd been chewing on a dirty coin. His body, understandably, felt stiff, weak, and numb.
The instant he tried to lift his arm, if felt as if he was buried under dumbbells. Lancet groaned when he turned his head, facing the casement window framed by overly floral wallpaper.
This isn't the hospital. It's the safe house. The one-
His breath hitched with panic until he felt the tender brush of nails along his jaw.
"Rose?" He croaked. It was painful to turn his head in the opposite direction, but once he did, a beautiful woman with raven hair and viridian eyes — the same as his — stared back at him. At first, he just stared, wondering if he was still half asleep or hallucinating from the drugs. And then he remembered — Kayos.
"Sorry. Not the Gloxinia. Are you disappointed?"
"Lucia." His lips formed the syllables, but no sound came from him. The racer cleared his parched throat, and tried again. "Luce?"
Lucia smiled from his bedside, a gentle smile that instantly pulled him back years ago, when they were children. The cold. The dark. The terror. The comfort of his sister's lap as she hummed to him. The Kayos native song drifted into memory in her younger voice.
Hold onto me, hold onto love, and some day we will breath again.
Just count to ten over and over again.
The day the ice melts is on the horizon.
Just as quickly as the consoling memory swept in, it was swallowed by a strong current, and drowned by something else. The heat of a fire. The blood rushing to his head as he hung upside down inside of a car wreck. The crushing realization that Lucia's legs were pinned under the crunched up dashboard. He didn't realize the monotone beeps in the background had sped up until Lucia soothed his chest with her hand — over his heart.
"Hey, little brother. Don't drop dead now. You didn't drag me all the way from Kayos just to bury you, did you?"
There was so much to say, and yet words were insufficient. Lancet squeezed her hand with all his strength, as if bracing himself should she poof out of existence. Something warm dampened his cheek, and he watched as Lucia's knuckle brushed it away.
Lancet Steel. Gervassio Blaze's prime enforcer, and protege. One of the most terrifying forces in the Underground. Multiple time Grand Prix racing champion of Atropellado. Now full time mob boss of a family worth millions. A felon. A killer. A schemer.
