Page 54 of Sapphires and Snakes
I prowl toward her. “Take responsibility, Gemma.”
“It’s not my fault!” she snaps.
I don’t make any more demands. Not with words. It’s not like Gemma’s listening, anyway. My fists curl and strike—ribs, cheek, gut, cheek, gut, ribs. My knuckles split across her jaw, and blood sprays out of her mouth. She doesn’t fight back, but she doesn’t take responsibility, either.
I grab her hair in my fist and yank back until her neck is craned uncomfortably. Red spatters her face, dribbles down her chin, and a bruise is already forming along her left cheekbone. I stare down at her, all feeling wiped from my face. “You endangered children. You allowed Rita to be harmed.”
She fumbles her words on her bitten tongue. “I didn’t, I didn’t.”
I slap her with as much disappointment as her words provoke in me. “Want this to stop? Take responsibility.”
“Tamayo, please,” she whispers.
“Say you’re sorry.” I twist her hair in my fist, my forehead inches from hers. “Admit you fucked up.”
“Please.” Her whimpers are edging into sobs.
In another circumstance, I might feel sympathetic. I might try to comfort her. But the rage inside is unquenched, the fear it covers still acrid in my gut. Rita, the kids, they came too close to annihilation. And that’s unacceptable.
I grind my teeth. “Admit it.”
Gemma’s tears spill over, and they do nothing more than disgust me. A capo that can’t admit their mistakes is worthless to me. Worse, they’re dangerous.
I throw her to the floor, and she catches herself on her palms, crying and shaking. Fucking useless. My foot kicks forward without thought, slamming into her gut. She coughs, blood dripping to the carpet.
“Admit it.” I grab her by the shoulders and throw her over the couch behind her. She rolls to the floor with a sob. I round the corner, steps unhurried. “Take responsibility, Gemma.”
She crawls backward in a rush. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” I stalk forward, hands in my pockets as if I’m finished. “I can’t hear you with all that mumbling.”
“I’m sorry!” she cries.
I snatch her chin in my hand and squeeze hard enough to bruise. She’s sobbing now, cheeks wet with tears mixed with blood. The sight only makes me want to punch her again. “For what?”
She clutches my wrist as she finally relents. “I failed to protect them.”
“You did.” I do not loosen my grip.
Gemma trembles, her blue eyes swimming. “I can do better.”
I force myself to draw three deep breaths. “You will. Because this won’t ever happen again, hm?”
She nods as best she can with my hand clamped around her chin. “Yes, boss. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Do you understand what will happen to you if you fail again?” I loosen my hand finally, letting my fingers caress over her carotid artery with violent promise.
She swallows, her throat bobbing against my palm. “I understand.”
“Good.” I pat her cheek, and she winces, like this was harrowing. She has no idea how much I held back, how muchworse it could have been. She will, though, if she fucks up like this again. I straighten and turn to Juno. “Grab Angie. She’ll fix her up.”
“Thank you,” Gemma sighs.
I almost smack her again. Instead, I use the toe of my boot to lift her chin, her gaze full of trepidation when it finds mine. “No doctors,” I say. “The lesson needs to sink in, don’t you agree?”
Her face falls, but she nods.
I take back my foot, striding over to my chair and sinking down into the leather. Blood coats my knuckles, both mine and Gemma’s. She doesn’t move from the floor, shaking and being generally feeble, like she can trigger something akin to kindness in me. She can’t. Not when the most precious people in the world to me were endangered by her failure.