Facing Away (Broken Streetfighter)

Chapter Forty Six

June 18, 2020: Thank you all for 517k reads and13.1k votes! 💜

Alexander POV

The old man sits at the other end of the table. I stare at him, he stares back. Alec and Shawn sit on either side of me; Shawn on my left, Alec on my right. It's silent between both assembled gangs, everyone analyzing one another or watching the old man and I stare it out.

It's now quite evident, the resemblance between him and Amy. I've been acting like an idiot the minute I showed up in this good for nothing state. We left New York to expand the gang, to make a new name for ourselves in no man's land. Here, no man's land managed to fuck us up. I couldn't even notice that the one girl who immediately befriended everyone closest to me in the gang was the heir of our biggest rivals, both in New York and here.

"You have something to say, say it." The old man is the first to break the silence. I look into his brown eyes, similar and yet so different than those of his daughter. His nose is crooked and too big for his face. His lips tighten into a straight line at my lack of words.

"What is your connection with the Night Howlers? Why do they want your Heir so freaking badly?" I ask. I already know the answer. The web of lies spreads deeper than that of Amy. Riley is not to be trusted, not until I know where she gained the information about who Amy truly is in the first place. I needed to see if they were to be trusted - at least somewhat.

He sighs, running a hand over his face. "It's a long story, one that goes back, before you or Amy were born." His face has a faraway expression on it and he glances at the table in longing. "The day I met Rosalinda, Amy's mother, was one of the happiest of my life. I had just gotten promoted. I had worked as a construction worker and after a year working, I had been promoted to the head of one of our newest projects, paid by some of our newest clients. I was sent, the day after my promotion, to the site where the construction was to be placed. There, I would meet with the clients and finish setting up some of the last details."

There's a tired look in his face, yet one side of his mouth lifts in joy at the images only he can see and recall. "It was a beautiful, green, empty meadow full of wildflowers. I got there twenty minutes early, so excited and practically shaking from anticipation at the way my career was going - I was only twenty two, a college drop out, yet how this project went, it could define the rest of my life. The meadow wasn't empty. There was a girl - a woman - sitting in the middle of it, her knees pulled to her chest, her hair up in a ponytail and her back was to me, her face as well, was facing into the forest that surrounded the meadow."

We stay silent, and even Wendy, who's sitting on his left side, looks intrigued at the story. This, obviously, is the first time they're hearing this story as well. "There are times I regret my next actions, they could have saved me from the life I'm living now, but deep down, I couldn't have stayed away. I walked forward, slowly, gently, as though I were approaching a wild animal. In a way, I kind of was. I hadn't known it at the time, but the Night Howlers were the new clients who hired us for construction.

"She knew, the whole time, she knew I was there. She heard me approaching, but she didn't move. She didn't react, only continued to stare off into the woods, almost as though she were expecting someone already - someone to come and save her, or to put her out of her misery. I sat down next to her and for the first time, I got a real look at her face. Her eyes, they were hazel and with a bit of gold mixed in. Behind it, there was sadness lurking and swirling beneath. Tears were streaming down her face and her fingers twitched in surprise when she saw it was me and not whoever she was expecting."

"Who was she expecting?" Shawn whispers and I elbow him as the old man glares.

"I still don't know, I never asked. But it wasn't me. I looked at her and realized she was younger than I had initially thought. She wasn't a woman, but a teenager. Barely past the age of sixteen, yet looked as though she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders. Later, I find out that she, in a way, actually did." His eyes darken in anger at whatever memory it is that he's reliving. In a way, I almost feel guilty for bringing this up, but I need to know.