Purgatory

by Hayley Smyth

  I flinched. “I don't have time to explain, just... will you do this for me? Please.” I pleaded, kicking off my heels. I had minutes before Vladimir returned.

  She nodded. “Of course, my child. Of course.”

  I deflated in relief. “Thank you; I have to go.”

  I ran into the library, yanking down the zip of my dress, pushing the material from my body. I unclasped my bra and set it aside in a neat pile along with my underwear. Getting to my knees just as the door opened, I heard several footsteps walking across the wooden floor, but somehow, I clung on to my desperation to survive, for me, for my child, for Jax. And so, when I looked up and saw three masked faces, my husband standing between them, I didn't cry and plead. I didn't throw myself at his feet. I simply sat, hands in my lap, heart in my stomach, and waited for my punishment.

  I didn't get this close to the truth, this close to winning, to quit now.

  And as the first strike of the belt sliced my face open, I said this over in my mind.

  My blood was proof that I was still alive.

  Do your worst, I thought.

  There's something to be said for not fighting back, for not giving in to the blinding pain a human can inflict upon you, for not begging the man who'll never stop to stop.

  My body laid broken across the library floor that evening, blood surrounding me like a morbid halo, and even though I could have curled up and died - I didn't. My mind was fragile and splintered, and I looked on through puffy blues as the men who'd just assaulted me gathered around, and spoke in hushed tones about what happened next.

  Vladimir was sitting in his chair at the table, sweating, his chest heaving from exertion, and I'm not sure, but something told me that he'd shocked himself tonight, shocked at just how far he could take his brutal ways.

  From the waist down I was numb, at first, the searing pain as I was passed from man to man almost split me in half, and now I could feel nothing but my blood around me as it dried.

  “Vladimir, what now? Is it time?” A masked man asked, tucking himself back into black combats. I didn't recognize his voice through the fog of my brain.

  Sighing, Vlad stood again and towered over me, and all I could do was watch as four pairs of eyes looked down at me. “I suppose so. She'll be here soon, and I want her gone, and this cleaned up. Everything must be perfect.” His muffled voice was confusing, unable to pierce the violent throbbing in my brain.

  Vladimir slapped a set of keys into the masked man's hand. “You know where to take her, right? You understand what I'm asking of you?”

  The masked man nodded. “Of course, we won't let you down.”

  Satisfied with this answer, Vladimir came closer to me, bending at the waist to speak to me. “You will embarrass me no more, Ella. Know this, that if you ever see the light of day again, it'll be to end you, sweet wife.” He left the room, slamming the door behind me as the men got to work.

  Two of the bigger ones each took my arms and legs, hoisting me into the air when every bone in my body cracked and popped. I wanted to scream, the unbearable pain almost crushing my resolve to stay quiet.

  The darkness came and went, leaving me with only snippets of what was going on. I just wanted to sleep now. There was a lot of walking, the men grunting as they opened and locked doors, a lot of bickering over how I should be chained to the bed. Should they at least wash me? I heard one ask. To which the others had laughed at him, dismissing his concern for me. His concern came too late.

  I remember feeling a hard mattress underneath me, the cold metal of cuffs being attached to my wrists. I remember seeing the darkness even when my eyes were open, and then there was nothing but complete silence.

  Silence and darkness once more.

  I soon succumbed to my injuries.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Jax.

  Covered in sweat, I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright, I had no idea where the fuck I was. It was dark, only a sliver of light coming through the blinds at the window.

  The gasp of air I inhaled scratched the back of my throat, and I coughed and spluttered, it felt as though my lungs were broken. Leaning forward, I clung to the bedsheets as the violent cough ripped through me when I heard footsteps growing quieter. A soft click and the light above me came on, illuminating the elderly lady I hadn't noticed before.

  I was in the infirmary. Looking down at my body, I was naked save from a pair of boxers, my body a complete fucking mess, and no memory of why I was here or what the hell had happened to me.

  The gray-haired lady stood beside my bed, hands clasped in front of her and she smiled, she reminded me of a school nurse. Her hair was clipped into a neat bun, and her face wrinkled yet soft.

  “Hello, dear. How are you feeling?” She asked, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead.

  I took deep breaths and sat up straight, a flash of pain ripped through my chest and stomach.

  “Take it easy there, hon, you've got broken ribs.”

  “What the fuck happened?” I grumbled, looking for some water.

  Sensing what I needed, the woman handed me a tall beaker of water with a straw inside. I ignored that and downed the fluid in one; my mouth was like fucking sandpaper.

  “You have no memory of that night?” She asked, sitting in the chair at the bedside.

  I placed the cup down and tried to think back. What was the last thing I remember? Shit, it was just...blackness.

  There was in person I did remember, though. “Where's Ella?”

  “If you give me a moment, I'll explain, but you need to remain calm, hon. You're still pretty banged up, and this is the first time you've been awake properly in nearly a week.”

  “A fucking week?” Jesus.

  She nodded. “Yes, so, as you can imagine, this may be a lot take in, given as you can't remember anything either.”

  “I just wanna know she's okay,” I said, wincing at the pain.

  “Mr Murdoch, I can't answer that without explaining everything.”

  I sighed and gestured with a weak hand for her to continue, talking was only scratching my throat and hurting my ribs.

  “You, Ella, and Benny attended the funeral of Amy Blackburn, hon. Do you remember that?”

  Image after image of that day bombarded my minds' eye. Fuck. Had that been a week ago? I remembered how Ella had looked, her meeting my folks and Carter, the storm, the motel, and making love to Ella. I closed my eyes and saw it all again. Fuck. She loved me.

  “I take your silence as you remembering this?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, you were beaten, quite badly, the details surrounding this are a bit hazy, Mr Murdoch.”

  Marco. The jagged piece of glass piercing his throat. The blood. The gargling. “As far as it stands, you were attacked near the motel you sought shelter at.”

  “I-I'm sorry, I don't remember.”

  The old lady leaned forward in her chair and took my hand, surprising me. She patted it a few times and smiled, before lowering her voice to a delicate whisper. “I know it was Marco, Mr Murdoch, that left you in this state. I may be old, dear, but I see and hear a lot more than people give me credit for.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, suddenly worrying that I was in a coma and dreaming of this woman.

  She chuckled. “Just an old lady who's been here for many years, my dear.” She sat back in her chair and regarded me for a moment. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “As thankful as I am for your help, you can understand why I may be a bit fucking reluctant to?”

  “Of course, and you're under no obligation to; however, Ella is very dear to my heart, and I've seen the way she looks at you. I've heard hushed conversations between you both when you thought no-one was around, and if I'm going to help her leave this place for good, then I just need to know that the man she's leaving with can be trusted. Can be true to his word, if you will.”

  I stared at her, my heart stuttering as her words sunk in. She knew. She f
ucking knew, and this didn't sit right with me. She may have looked the look and talk the talk, but I didn't trust one single person in this place.

  “How can you help her?” I asked.

  “I can't yet,” she replied. Her hands dug into her apron pocket, and she pulled a necklace from it. She let the chain dangle from her finger to show me. “Do you recognize this?”

  My eyes studied the wings, the blue stone, the chain. “No.”

  “Mr Murdoch, you must remain calm while I say this. Can you promise me that?” She put the gaudy necklace in my hand.

  I frowned. “Er, yeah, sure.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Fuck, I promise.”

  “The night you arrived home, Ella was badly beaten. I haven't seen her since.”

  Forgetting my promise, I swung my legs over the bed, yelling in agony as fresh pain shot through my entire body.

  “Mr Murdoch, please! Remember your promise. You must listen to me!” The lady said, jumping to her feet to block the door.

  Doubled over, I clutched at my rib cage, and the entire fucking room was spinning, the room swaying in my vision as I blinked back furious tears.

  “I have reason to believe she's still here!” She said, hoping that would calm me down.

  It didn't. “What goddamn reason is that?”

  “Jaxon, please get back on the bed, you're in no state to be up on your feet yet. I'll tell you all I know, okay?” She put her small hand on my upper back to guide me back to bed. I let her, too exhausted to argue. I wanted to know where the fuck my bird was.

  After an extraordinary amount of effort, I was back on the bed, and the older woman was in the chair.

  She waited for me to stop grunting in pain before continuing. “Before the attack, Ella gave me this necklace, she made me promise I'd leave it somewhere you'd find it.”

  I shook my head and opened my hand to study it once more. “I've never seen it before in my life.” I flipped it over and over again; there was nothing strange about it. Not that I could see. “What makes you think he hasn't fucking killed her?”

  She sighed, her lips pulling into a thin line. “Because he wouldn't live without her. He's always been sadistic, Jaxon, and one of his favorite things to do is push that poor sweet child to the brink, only to bring her back. There have been countless times when one minute I saw her around, and the next, she would be gone. He keeps her somewhere, Jaxon, and if you love her like I think you do, I beg you to help me find her. I don't want her to die here, never having experienced real love. She deserves the world.” She wiped away the tears from beneath her eyes. “She deserves you and what you can give her.”

  I slumped back on the bed, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose as a stabbing pain throbbed at my temples. “Fuck,” I groaned.

  The lady got to her feet, there was the shuffle, the sound of drawers being open and closed, and then her hand and two pills on top of it was in front of me. “Take these, hon, they’ll help with the pain. They may make you drowsy, though.”

  I swallowed them down dry. I'd never felt agony like it, and worst of all, my fucking heart broke for my bird. “What the hell do we do?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea, and we need to find out why this necklace is so important as well as find where he takes her.” She paused for a beat. “Vladimir is hosting a party Saturday, and if she's not back by then, it'll be the best time to snoop around, he'll be distracted.”

  “But he'll expect me to work, and I can't let you do it by yourself.”

  She smiled. “You won't work unless I deem you fit enough to.”

  “Where the hell would we even start? Vlad doesn't let you see shit unless he's said so. We've got no chance of finding a hidden...cell...” Wait.

  “What is it, dear? What have you thought of?”

  Throwing caution to the wind, I told this woman everything. Well, mostly everything. My father's plans, the children, the photographs, Amy and Vlad's affair, and the old woman could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  “Could you contact your father? It's been over a week since the work began, yes? They must be dying to hear from you and have an update.” She opened the bedside drawer, and sure enough, there was my phone.

  What a sneaky old bitch, I thought.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Jax.

  “Jax! Oh, my boy! What the fuck happened? We've been trying to get hold of you since the funeral.” My dad said as soon as he answered the phone.

  “Long story - but I'm okay. I don't have long, pops, how's the dig going?”

  “Well, that's what I wanted to update you on. We're there, my boy! The entire tunnel's dug. And it's just as we thought - the guy from Nevada, he done most of the work, said we've hit brickwork. Confirming our suspicions of a room having been built down there.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I said, the pills I'd taken were working their magic, my eyes grew heavy. “Listen pops, Vladimir’s throwing a party Saturday, hold going in until then. I can't explain right now, but trust me?”

  “Of course, son. Are you sure you're okay? You sound hurt.”

  I winced, silencing any noise that would worry my father. “I'm fine, just tired.”

  “Of course.”

  The old woman was on the edge of her seat, waiting to hear what had been said.

  “I gotta go,” I locked my phone screen, and a new wave of searing pain attacked my chest. “Fuck, this fucking hurts.” I was a writhing mess on the bed as all thoughts of our plan were dashed to the wind. The woman never left my side, wiping my head with a cloth, helping me to get comfortable on the infirmary bed, asking if I wanted or needed anything. But, before long, exhaustion claimed me, and I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  A few days later and I was almost ready to get back to work, I reckoned I was able to, but Edith and I had a plan we needed to stick to, and so, I sat in meetings, Vladimir wanting to keep me updated regarding the party tomorrow. For the first time since I arrived, I listened, desperate for any clue as to where my Ella was. She still hadn't reappeared, and while Edith was convinced she was here somewhere, I was starting to worry.

  Benny had come to see me a couple of times while I was in the infirmary, I still had no fucking clue what he did with Marco's sorry corpse, but I thanked him. Several times. The last time he came to see me, he'd told me that he was going to keep his distance, I understood, hell, the man had a family somewhere. A junkie jumped me, that was the story.

  The library today was full of faces as Vladimir held the last meeting before the party. Beside him, as always, stood his right-hand man, across the table from me were several men I'd noticed around The Mansion, and in front of Vladimir was a thick, heavy folder. His fat fingers played with the edges of the leather as he waited for everyone to sit and get themselves a drink. I was already on my second; broken ribs were no fucking joke, each breath I took it hurt. The stitches in my face were healing nice, Edith had hoped she could take them out later that day. The scar I'd be left with was going to be brutal.

  “Gentlemen, thank you for coming.” Vlad began. His mouth moved, but the door opening and Marnie's voice echoing around the room disturbed him. She walked in, swaying her hips, smiling at each man before she made her way over to the bar.

  “Marnie,” Jozef growled. “Not today.” He jerked his head, beckoning the brunette towards him as Vlad flicked through pages inside the folder.

  “Is everything okay?” She asked, smiling. How the fuck was she smiling when Ella was missing? Bitch made my blood boil.

  Vlad sighed, pulling two sheets of paper and placing them face down in front of him. Something was wrong. It didn't feel like a meeting to discuss security plans and the like.

  Vlad addressed the men at the table. “I'm afraid we're here under...disappointing circumstances, but I'm a big believer in how we keep order around here, meaning that if I need to make a show of someone, I will. Fear is a powerful motivator I've found over the years.”

&nbs
p; Looking over at Marnie, I observed how the smile had fallen from her face, her lips now tight, her face lined with worry.

  “You all know Marnie, right? For those of you who don't, she came to live with us a year after my lovely wife. Jozef took her under her wing and, despite me voicing my concerns on numerous occasions, spoiled her rotten. Whatever Marnie wanted, she got. Treated like a queen, aren't you, my dear?” Vlad turned his head to look up at the woman, now shaking in fear.

  “Yes, Vladimir. I'm fortunate.” She said.

  He nodded. “That you are, which is why it saddens me to do this.” He waved his hand, an unknown gesture that only Jozef understood because one moment Marnie was on her feet, the next there was a loud crack and then she was on the floor, holding her cheek.

  “Jozef...” She cried, looking into the bright red, heavily veined face of the man who'd never hurt her.

  Vladimir turned the two pieces of paper over, and I sat forward to get a better view. My blood ran cold when I saw an image of Marnie and Carter naked and fucking.

  Vladimir looked towards me. “I'm sorry to embarrass your friend like this, Jaxon, but, like I said, I need to make a show of people who betray our trust,” Vlad said, nodding once more, unleashing an anger in Jozef that shocked everyone sat around the table.

  His booted foot pummeled into Marnie's stomach, flipping her body over so she was on her back. She screamed in pain, scrambling to curl herself up into a ball, but Jozef was quicker. He grabbed her hair, yanking her head back as he raised her fist. It connected with her jaw, and her head flew to one side as did a burst of bright red blood.

  I pushed back from my chair and stood. “With all due respect, sir, do we need to be here for this?”

  Both Vlad and Jozef looked at me, and their lips curled into a sneer. I sat back down, grimacing as my ribs protested against the sudden movement.

  Ignoring me, Vlad continued. “You betrayed my best man, Marnie, and hear and understand what I'm saying: You will fucking pay. Today has merely been a teaser of all that's left to come. Jozef worshiped the ground you walked on, and this,” he slammed his fist on the two photographs, “Is how you repay him?”