Revival

by Kirkpatrick, S.

  She was unharmed in the video, but when Abel and I didn’t comply with Rob’s demands, I feared he would retaliate by killing her. Even though I haven’t let myself get lost in the thought, the truth is, I was scared that when he took me, it was because he had already killed her…

  Bree meets my gaze and her eyes go wide. Even though she’s gagged, I can tell through her muffled sounds that she’s screaming my name.

  The elation I feel at seeing her alive and well is short-lived though. It’s quickly replaced by guilt and remorse.

  I’m so sorry Bree…

  This is all my fault.

  And I fear that this is just the beginning. Our lives are now in his hands. The thought is enough to break down my first wall.

  I can’t help it...

  I cry.

  Not for myself. But for Bree.

  I cry for Bree’s fate, my punishment, knowing that there’s no way she will ever forgive me for whatever he’s about to do to her.

  Everything I’m about to see will rest squarely on my shoulders.

  Any blood of hers that he sheds…

  Will be on my hands.

  Chapter Four

  BREE

  “I said open your fucking eyes!” Before she even has the opportunity to comply, Rob rears back and punches Max in the face so hard that I hear a bone in her face snap under his force.

  I try to scream Max’s name through my gag. But the sound is muffled and completely useless as my saliva coats the burlap, making it easier to chafe the corners of my mouth. I bite back a scream, knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop him. He’s in complete control of the situation around him. He planned it that way.

  I’ve considered myself lucky that he hasn’t hurt me physically so far. Every time he approaches me, I ready myself for what I know he’s capable of. I’ve been waiting, dreading, the moment he breaks his hands-off approach with me. It’s only a matter of time before I become the recipient to the chaos that looms inside of him.

  So every time he walks in front of me, with tendrils of darkness pouring off of him in waves, I brace myself for impact. I know the pain he could inflict when he decides it’s time. Max told us all what he did to her, what he’s capable of. I can’t even imagine what it feels like to be on the other end of that. Knowing that she had to suffer at his hands for over a year breaks my heart.

  I didn’t know her then. I couldn’t have helped. But now… Now I’m determined to protect her in any way I can. I don’t know how, but I won’t let him hurt her. I won’t let him hurt the innocent children growing inside of her.

  I’m pulled from my thoughts as Rob leans in closer to Max, refusing to give her a moment of reprieve.

  “I gave you and that man the opportunity to do the right thing. I told him that as long as he let you go and you moved back into your own house, that I would exchange his sister for you. He could have had his sister back, but he didn’t listen. You didn’t listen. You disobeyed me, Maxine. And now you have to be punished. You and he both have to be punished for your disobedience.”

  Max thrashes around in her chair, screaming through her gag. Tears are welling in her eyes as she fights a losing battle. I’ve tried and failed more times than I care to admit to get out of these ropes. It’s a pointless endeavor. Unfortunately, that’s one thing Rob is actually good at.

  I can see a line of blood pooling from the cut on Max’s cheek from where Rob struck her. It makes my stomach churns. I hate this for her. I hate that she’s here, having to suffer at his hands once again.

  With each thrash in her chair, Rob’s hold on me tightens, his anger at her lack of disloyalty to him is palpable. When she doesn’t stop moving in her chair, trying to free herself, he turns his attention from her to me.

  I guess it’s my turn now.

  Rob holds my bound arms behind my back so that he can maneuver me where I have to go. He shoves me with just enough force for me to feel like I’ll lose my balance. It sends my body lurching forward, taking me further and further from Max.

  I regain my footing but locking my knees while trying to turn my head to keep Max in my eyesight. But it’s no use. Rob pushes my body toward a concrete pillar a few feet away and slams my back against it. The force behind the movement is hard, so direct, that the air seizes in my chest. My eyes water as the pain in my chest settles, feeling like a razor blade slicing my airways.

  He pulls out a wad of rope from the inside pocket of his cheap suit and ties me around my waist to the pillar. Each wrap is tighter than the last, cinching in on my skin with each pass he makes around my torso. The hold is so tight, that when I’m finally able to exhale a breath, the rope digs into me.

  “I have nothing against you personally. Originally you were just leverage. A pawn in a much larger game. But as you heard, I gave your brother the opportunity to save you. Maxine means more to him than you do. He left you. He chose her. Not that I blame him for his preferences of course. But I refuse to let someone else have what belongs to me. You’ll just be collateral damage in this game.”

  And that’s all this is to him… A game.

  I struggle against my own insecurities of being left by the people I care for, refusing to let Rob’s words hold any weight in my mind. I know my brother loves me and I know the situation is not as simple as Rob wants me to believe it is. I have to believe that.

  I know mental illness when I see it, I can thank my mother for that lesson. Rob’s insanity is written across his face plain as day to me. He’s deranged and I won’t fall for his tricks so easily. Max may be physically strong, but I pride myself on being mentally strong. I refuse to let what anyone says break me. Least of all, this sick-fuck.

  “Here’s the deal, Bree. Maxine and your brother both have to be punished for the choices they’ve made. And you’re going to help me punish them. Do you want to know how?”

  I don’t respond to him. Not that I could verbally answer him anyway, because I’m gagged, but I refuse to play his game. I know what he really wants is for me to nod my head ‘yes.’ But I just can’t bring myself to do anything he wants me to do.

  I’ve always been stubborn and rebellious. Always had to do exactly the opposite of what everyone wanted or expected of me. It’s just how I operate. But this has nothing to do with my rebellious nature and everything to do with the fact that this is the only freedom I have with him.

  I choose what I say.

  I choose how I react.

  He can do whatever he wants to me, but I won’t let him have that.

  “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. Your brother’s punishment will be what I do to you. Maxine’s punishment will be having to watch. I’m going to remove your gag here in a few minutes. I want Maxine to hear your pain, to hear your screams. And trust me, you will scream. Keep in mind how tight the ropes are around your waist. I’m certain that even now, with your breathing at a regular pace, that every time you exhale, the ropes are digging into you.

  Now, when you’re screaming and thrashing around, trying to instinctively flee from the pain that will soon be coming, it will cause your breathing to speed up. This will cause you to begin inhaling with a sense of urgency which in turn means that you will exhale with that same force. That force will cause the ropes to dig further into you. After enough time, the ropes will eventually begin to cut the flesh. Rope burn leaves nasty scars. Just keep that little tidbit in mind.”

  He removes my gag, as promised, and I spit in his face.

  “Go to hell you sick-fuck. You won’t get away with this!”

  He doesn’t respond with words, but his actions tell me that he doesn’t appreciate my little outburst. I barely have enough time to register what he’s doing before his first collides in the center of my face. My vision is splotchy and based on the crunching sound I heard when he hit me, I’m certain my nose is broken. I can already taste the blood falling into my mouth and dripping off my chin and on to my chest.

  “Don’t eve
r disrespect me again.” He screams, his own spit flying back at me with instantaneous and unjust karma.

  He moves a few steps back, shaking off his frustration. He hates that he can’t control me.

  I watch on, in what feels like slow motion, as he removes his suit jacket and tosses it on the floor beside him. My eyes track his movements, refusing to cower, as he swiftly rolls his sleeves up to his elbows.

  I squint my eyes to try and focus in on something that’s protruding from his side, attached to his belt. He smiles maniacally when he realizes what I’ve spotted. A light, yet sinister, chuckle escapes him as he unsheathes a knife from the leather encasement resting on his hip.

  I swallow back the fear that threatens to take over as he makes slow, measured steps towards me. Each step heightening the fear coursing through my veins. Fear that I try like hell to keep from showing on my face. Fear that I know he desperately wants to see.

  He stands in front of me now, looking like a mangy, rabid dog. There’s no hesitation in his movements as he raises the knife and pierces the bottom half of my shirt, but nothing more, with ease.

  He slowly rips away the material until the rope around the center of my torso causes the ripping to halt. He throws the scrap of cloth on the floor with his jacket and then proceeds to do the same with the top of my shirt that’s still on my body.

  Now I stand, tied to a concrete pillar, with my arms and my legs tied up and bound like some kind of animal. There’s nothing covering the top half of my body but a thin cotton bra, placing me on display like a sacrifice to the devil himself. All to play his game.

  “There we go. Now Maxine has a better visual. And now, you have a little bit more determination to keep still. The rope burns I warned you about aren’t exactly bikini-friendly if you know what I mean.” He laughs to himself. “Now hold still, this may hurt a bit.”

  Without another word, he swiftly pulls the knife across the edge of my hourglass figure and doesn’t stop until he reaches my belly button. The cut feels like fire searing my skin and a million wasps stinging the fresh wound all at once. It’s the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my entire life.

  I don’t know how deep it is, but I don’t care. I would let him do whatever sick shit he has planned if it keeps him from hurting Max. I have to accept whatever he gives to me. I have to do it to protect Max and my nieces or nephews that are growing inside of her.

  Rob is standing two feet back, admiring his handy work that is now my bleeding flesh. He scowls and purses his lips together as if he were examining a painting.

  “That’s not good enough, is it? Something’s missing. Hmm…” He ponders out loud.

  After a few moments, examining his work, his eyes gleam with some kind of sadistic joy.

  “Oh yes, I know what to do now.”

  He pulls back his right fist and punches me dead center in the wound he just carved into my side. My scream echoes throughout the bare concrete room, magnifying my pain for my audience of two.

  I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, attempting to internalize my thoughts and emotions. I can’t look at Rob and I certainly can’t look at Max. I can’t bear to see the pain in her eyes as she has to watch this unfold in front of her eyes. She’s helpless to stop one of her closest friends, her boyfriend’s only sibling, the only flesh and blood aunt those babies will ever know, be tortured for someone who will only take pleasure in our pain.

  “Ah, yes. There it is. Much better. And to think, we’re just getting started.”

  The feeling of his knife slicing into my flesh again forces me inside the burrows of my brain that I use as a sanctuary. It’s the opposite of an out of body experience. It’s forcing yourself so deep inside your head that you shut off everything happening around you.

  It’s been my coping mechanism all of my life, the only thing no one could ever take away. The one thing that’s ever just been mine. It’s where my memories are stored, where my dreams take flight, and where I lock away all my secrets. I force myself there so I don’t have to exist in Rob’s hell. Some may call this weakness because I can’t face this head-on…

  I call it survival.

  I let myself drift deeper into the recesses of my mind, forcing myself to find some happy memory to latch on to, to immerse myself in.

  I sift through my memories like a Rolodex at my fingertips, begging for my escape into the abyss. Instinctively I settle on the one thing that has always been the root of all my desires. I let myself drown in the memory, attaching myself to it like I’m experiencing the moment for the first time all over again, even if it was six years ago.

  It’s my first day off in 10 days and I refuse to do anything besides sit in this chair and work on my tan. I’ve even got my phone turned on airplane mode, ensuring nothing can pull me from my much earned day of nonstop relaxation.

  I love days like this. The sun is burning bright and the tourists are running around, filling Kure Beach with their smiles and glee. I have my headphones in, so I can’t hear their laughs, but the smiles on their faces are infectious and I feel one spread across my lips, loving the vibes you can only find here in a beach town. It’s about a 30-minute drive here from my house in Deacon Hill, but with the windows down and my music up, it’s always a pleasant drive.

  I spray on a generous amount of tanning oil, rub it in, and lay back, closing my eyes.

  Fuck, I need this so bad.

  I may only be 18, but I’ve been promoted to Assistant Store Manager of Palmetto Moon inside the mall in Deacon Hill. I’ve been working insane hours the past few weeks in order to train all of the new hires and get the store through our annual inventory. There was one day last week that I actually slept on a cot in the back office. I was just too tired to drive home.

  A tropical storm is the only thing that could make me part with the beach today.

  ‘That’s What You Get’ by Paramore comes on my playlist and I silently fist pump the air. I love angry chick music and they’ve been one of my favorite bands for years. I don’t care if this song is from 2007, Hayley Williams never goes out of style.

  I’m rocking out to myself, my head and feet bouncing along to the song when out of nowhere the sun is completely blocked. I open my eyes to see what’s causing the obstruction and keeping me from soaking up the Vitamin D that the fluorescent bulbs at work just don’t provide.

  When I see what it is, my mouth goes dry. I jolt up in my chair, yanking the earbuds from my ears, while my heart starts beating erratically in my chest.

  Dex.

  My tropical storm.

  He stands in front of me in his signature white tee, wearing his board shorts. His light brown hair is tousled like he just got out of bed, and he hasn’t shaved in a few weeks so his perfectly sculpted face is sporting some insanely sexy scruff. One look at him has my insides quivering.

  He’s standing in front of the waves, hazel eyes dancing with mischief as the sun shines behind him, illuminating him like some kind of dark archangel.

  My salvation.

  Dex’s smile is lighting me up from the inside out, and I swear if he knew what that smile does to me, he’d never flash it in my direction again. I’m his best friend’s little sister. I’m just another one of the guys. He’ll never see me like I see him, but I’d never take the risk of losing seeing him so carefree around me like he is now. So I keep my thoughts to myself, as painfully difficult as it may be.

  “I thought I’d find ya here, Breezie.” His voice calls out.

  I swear I can hear that deep timbre vibrating in my veins. The effect this guy has on me should be a fucking crime.

  “Ugh, I hate that nickname.” I tell him, rolling my eyes. He can’t see the motion, hiding behind my oversized sunglasses, but I just can’t help myself.

  “That’s what ya keep saying.” He laughs.

  “And yet, you never seem to take the hint.” I tell him, pretending like I’m not about to spontaneously combust at the sound of the harsh sexy laugh a
ssaulting my ears.

  And other parts of me too, but that’s something I best keep to myself.

  “Yeah, when I actually believe ya hate it, I’ll stop.”

  Fucker.

  He knows me too well.

  “What are you doin’ here, Dex?” I ask, ignoring his comment.

  “I was looking for you.” He says simply.

  “Why? Did Abel send you?” I ask, searching around us for any sign of my brother or the other idiots that aren’t ever far from him and Dex.

  I have no real issue with Ryan and Brody. I mean, yeah, Ryan’s an airhead and Brody’s a man-whore, but they’re harmless. I love them like they’re my brothers. Hell, they practically are. But I like them better in small doses.

  “No, Abel didn’t send me. He’s at work. Haven’t talked to him all day actually.”

  “Are we gonna keep talking in circles or are you gonna fess up and tell me why you’re really here?”

  “Damn, Breezie. You wound me.” He says, bringing his hand to his heart and smiling wildly. “I haven’t heard from you in days and I was just wantin’ to check in. I went by your job but they said you had the day off. When your phone kept going straight to voicemail, I assumed I’d find you here.”

  “Well, here I am.” I say lamely, spreading my arms out.

  “Here you are.” He says, staring at me intently.

  “Y’all have to quit keeping me under a microscope, Dex. I’m not hurting anything just being on the beach and catchin’ some rays.” I tell him, annoyed that he feels obligated to check in on me since my brother hasn’t been able to.

  “You should know me better than that Breezie. Like I said, I haven’t seen you in a while so I came by to spend the day with ya. Thought maybe we could catch some waves.” He tucks his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet.

  I stare at him with my mouth hanging open, trying to process what the hell he’s saying, and what he may mean by them. It’s likely Abel sent him to keep an eye on me and bring back an update, but the look in his eyes makes me think that maybe he really did just come to hang out.