Bitter Sweet Hell (Hell Night Book 2)

by Alex Grayson

  I lean over the chair and hiss, “Tell Diego to back off.” I stand back up. “She doesn’t have the fucking chip.” Or at least I hope like fuck she doesn’t. I know hardly anything about Eden Delmont, but I’ve never gotten the vibe she was hiding anything. Of course, she could just be a damn good actress. I don’t think so though.

  Emiliano gets up from his chair and walks around to the front of his desk, re-buttoning his blazer, like some kind of uptight rich businessman. He leans back against the desk and crosses his ankle, appearing relaxed, but the rigid set of his jaw tells another story. It’s also laughable, really. Emiliano is far from intimidating in stature. He’s fat, short, and out of shape. But I’m no fool. He may not be able to handle his own dirty work, so he hires muscle like Hulk to do it for him.

  I feel Emo stiffen at my side, and I hope like hell he keeps his cool. He feels the threatening vibes in the room and doesn’t like it any more than I do.

  “Your man,” He juts his chin to Emo, “is bleeding on my carpet.”

  “Send me the fuckin’ cleaning bill,” I growl, growing impatient for this to be over with so we can get back to Malus. And Eden.

  He opens a box at his hip and pulls out a cigar. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffs it before putting it between his teeth. I’ve always hated the smell of cigars. After he lights it and releases a plume of smoke, he pinches it between two stubby fingers.

  “You know, I’ve heard about you and your brothers and the infamous town of Sweet Haven. It’s truly a shame what the children there went through.”

  My jaw tightens, and I hold back the need to plant my fist in the guy’s throat. Emo, apparently, has no qualms about hurting him as he releases a guttural growl and makes a move to go after him. If there’s one thing that pisses my brothers and me off the most, it’s pity. Pity is for the weak and we aren’t weak. Not anymore. We beat our past, escaped it, and we’ll be damned if anyone thinks we’re lesser because of it.

  “No,” I order and grab Emo’s arm before he can get too far. “Leave it, Emo.”

  I can feel the tremors in his body as he forcefully tries to control himself. Thankfully, after several seconds, he steps back beside me. I turn back to Emiliano to find his eyes lit on Emo.

  “If Diego insists on continuing his pursuit of Eden, he’ll meet a deadly end,” I warn him, drawing his attention back to me. “She’s under my and the town of Malus’s protection.”

  He takes another draw of his cigar and talks through a billow of smoke. “You’re threatening my son’s life? To my face?” he asks with a hint of surprise. He may not know the lengths we go through to ensure the safety of Malus’s citizens or what my brothers and I do on the side, but he knows our name, and not only because of our pasts. He knows we’re not the type to be fucked with.

  “Yes.”

  He considers my answer for a moment. “How well do you know this woman? Is she really worth the risk you’re taking coming in my house and telling me you’ll kill my son?”

  “It doesn’t matter how well I know her. I know enough to know she’s innocent of whatever Diego claims. And even if she isn’t, he’s still not laying a hand on her.”

  Stubbing out his cigar, he leans away from his desk, coming to his short five and a half feet tall height. I glare down at the little bastard.

  “I’ve got too much other shit going on around here to deal with more of Diego’s fucked up mess because he was neglectful with one of his women. I’ve never had any issues with you or your kind, Sheriff Ward. I’ll have a talk with him, but he’s a stubborn bastard, so I can’t promise anything.”

  I hold his stare. “You better hope he heeds your warning, because if one hair on Eden’s head is harmed, the devil himself won’t stop me from putting him down.”

  His jaw tics and the pulse at his temple throbs, giving away his mounting anger. I have zero fucks to give if he likes it or not.

  “I believe it’s time you both leave. I’ve been generous to allow you into my home while offering nothing but threats. That generosity has about run dry.”

  “We’ll see ourselves out.” Giving him a tight nod, I spin on my heel, grabbing Emo’s arm on the way before he has the chance to permanently mark the older man’s face and bring the Tomas family down on our heads. Not that I fear their wrath, but it’s something I don’t want to deal with. Not to mention, it could cause problems for Malus.

  I just hope like fuck Diego listens to his father and leaves Eden the hell alone. Diego will still die by my hands, but at least this way, it’ll be on my terms.

  JW

  The Past

  I PULL THE COVERS UP CLOSER to my chin when I hear my bedroom door creak open. The light in the hallway is off so it’s too dark to see who it is, but I don’t need the light to know. This is the fourth night in a row he’s come to my room. I don’t think Mom and Dad know, and I’m too scared to tell them. They always said what happens on Hell Night is supposed to be special and sacred. That it’s the one night a month the adults are allowed to show the kids the true meaning of love. If what happens on Hell Night is love, then I don’t want anyone to love me. It hurts too much to be loved.

  I hold real still when my covers are lifted, and I feel a warm body climb into bed with me. My eyes sting, but I try to force back my tears. If I cry, my nose will run and I’ll be forced to sniff, letting Trey know I’m awake. Maybe if he thinks I’m asleep, he’ll leave.

  My heart pounds hard in my chest, and I worry he’ll hear it. I start counting in my head, trying to make the numbers match my heartbeat to slow it down, but it doesn’t work. A hand lands on my hip, and I can’t help but stiffen at the touch, giving myself away.

  “I know you’re awake, Liam,” he whispers and moves his body up against my back and butt. I hate the name Liam. My name is JW. It’s what my real brothers call me, what Rella calls me, because I love John Wayne movies so much. I wish I was watching a John Wayne movie right now.

  Something pokes into my pajama pants. I want to cry out for Mom and Dad, but I worry they won’t help me. Why would they when they let Trey do the things he does to me on Hell Night?

  “I can feel you trembling. Are you excited I’m here?”

  My bottom lip wobbles. “Please, Trey,” I whine. “I don’t want to do it tonight. I’m tired and want to go to sleep.”

  His dry lips and the little hairs on his face he’s starting to let grow out scrape across the back of my neck. His hand comes around my waist and goes under my shirt, rubbing my stomach.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to stay awake. I just want to love you for a little while. I can love you while you sleep.”

  “But it’ll hurt, and Mom said we’re supposed to wait until The Gathering.”

  His hand moves down my stomach into the waistband of my bottoms. I squeeze my eyes shut as he touches my privates. His deep groan in my ear almost sounds like he’s in pain.

  “I can’t wait that long. I need to love you now.” He squeezes me and it hurts. I let out a small cry. “Shh… little brother, it’s okay,” he whispers and loosens his hold. “Let me show you how much I love you. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

  He’s never gentle. He’ll say he’ll be gentle, and in the beginning, he is, but he always ends up being rough and hurting me. Sometimes he’s so rough that I bleed.

  I hate my brother. I hate my parents. I hate every adult in Sweet Haven. The only reason Trey is being nice right now is because he doesn’t want me to scream and wake our parents.

  “Please, Trey. I don’t wanna.” Tears leak from my eyes. I clutch my pillow and draw it closer to me.

  When he begins pulling down my bottoms, I grab onto the waistband to hold them up. He pinches my side hard. “Let go, Liam. All you have to do it just lay there and let me do what I want.”

  I let go of the waistband. Not only because he’s still pinching me, but also because the sound of his voice has changed. He sounds like he does on Hell Night. He sounds like the devil.

  My pants are
pulled off and his hand runs up my leg and over my butt. I let him push me to my stomach because he’s so much bigger and stronger than me. There’s no way I could make him stop, and I fear what he’ll do if I try. During Hell Nights, Trey is mean. Like really mean.

  “Just lay there like a good boy and go to sleep. Let your big brother love you like I’m supposed to,” he whispers into the dark.

  His weight settles on my back, and I bury my face into my pillow. I push my head so hard into the fluffy surface that I can barely breath. I wish I could just stop breathing. That would mean I wouldn’t feel the pain I know is coming.

  My pillow case is wet from my tears and snot, but I don’t care. I keep my face pressed against it. When the first bite of pain hits, I scream. I scream so hard my throat hurts. No one can hear it though, because it’s muffled by my pillow.

  I cry and cry and cry some more, wishing the whole time I was big enough, strong enough, brave enough to force my brother to stop. But I’m not. I’m little and weak, so I let him hurt me over and over again, his grunts hitting my ears and his sweat dripping on my back. And when he’s done and rolls away to his feet to leave my room, I curl up into a ball as small as I can get and cry even more.

  EDEN

  I POP THE PILL OUT OF THE back of my birth control packet and tip my head back, dropping it in my mouth filled with water. Giving my head a shake, I swallow it down. I grab the packet and stuff it back in my make-up case, making a mental note to find the pharmacy here because I’ll need a refill soon.

  Once I’m dressed, I go back into my room and grab my phone. I heard it ring while I was in the bathroom. Looking at the two missed calls from Mom, I let out a little sigh. The woman is driving me crazy. I mean, I understand her worry, but no matter how many times I’ve told her I can’t tell her what’s going on, she asks me every time I talk to her.

  Knowing she’ll probably call the police if I don’t call her back, I press her name and bring the phone to my ear. She answers halfway through the first ring.

  “Eden Marie Delmont, don’t you ever scare me like that again!” she screeches over the line. I wince at the high pitch tone. “Why didn’t you answer?”

  “Jesus Christ, Mom. I was in the bathroom.” I huff out a breath, blowing a few strands of hair from my face.

  “Don’t you take the Lord’s name in vain.”

  “Sorry,” I mutter. I’m not really sorry. I love her, but the woman is maddening.

  “Tell me what’s going on? When are you coming home?” she demands.

  Rolling my eyes, I hold back what I really want to say, and try my best to keep my tone light.

  “I’m not sure when. I’m still trying to figure things out, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.” Before she can grill me further, which I know she wants to do, I ask, “How’s Daddy?”

  “Your dad’s fine. Just worried about you. Still grumbling about his new diet.”

  I laugh, because I can just imagine Dad fussing over his low-carb diet and trying to sneak in sweets when he thinks she won’t see him. Mom sees everything. I swear she has cameras hidden all over the house.

  A few weeks ago, Dad found out he was on the verge of diabetic ketoacidosis. Luckily, he wasn’t so close that he had to be admitted and was sent home with strict instructions on how to change his diet. Before then, Dad didn’t even know he was diabetic. Mom freaked out, of course, and started him on a new diet regimen right away. Any time I was over at the house for dinner, which was a couple times a week, he always bickered about what she made.

  “Just keep on him. He’ll get used to it eventually,” I tell her.

  “You know me. He can gripe all he wants, but it’ll do him no good.” She turns quiet before she says somberly. “We miss you, Eden. I want you to come home. Whatever’s going on, we can figure it out together.”

  A lump forms in my throat and I’m forced to clear it before I can talk. “I can’t, Mom. I wish I could, but I just can’t. I swear I’m safe where I am.”

  I close my eyes at the sound of her sniffle. I hate hurting her, but this kind of hurt is much more bearable than the pain she’ll go through if I go back home. I have no doubt Diego will go after her and Dad if I’m there.

  “Okay,” she says after several silent moments. “I trust you. Just promise you’re being careful.”

  “I promise. Give Dad a big hug and kiss for me. And tell him he better continue following his diet or he’ll have me to deal with along with you.”

  Her laugh is strained, but it’s a laugh, so I’ll take it.

  “Talk to you soon.”

  After I hang up, I flop back on the bed, staring up at the white ceiling and suddenly feeling homesick. I’ve never been this long without seeing my parents. We’ve always been close, and I go visit them at least twice a week. Or they come to my house to see me. What I wouldn’t give in this moment to have them both wrap me in their protective embrace and tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m not a Momma or Daddy’s girl. I’m a parent’s girl.

  The vibration of my phone against my stomach, followed by Hosier’s Take Me to Church, has me sitting up in bed. Expecting that it’s probably Mom having forgotten to tell me something, I don’t even look at the screen.

  “Hello?”

  There’s nothing but static at first, then a muffled sound.

  “It’s been too long,” a dark voice that has shivers racing down my spine answers.

  “Diego,” I utter through a dry throat.

  “You’ve kept me waiting long enough, Eden. Too long, in fact.”

  At first, I’m frozen with shock and can only sit there stiffly on my bed. Memories of the pain I endured by Diego’s hands, the fear of what he would do next, of realizing there were no lines he wouldn’t cross, holds me hostage. The stinging bite of my nails against my palm is the only thing that brings me back to reality. I pull in an encouraging breath.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask quietly, trying and failing to keep the fear out of my voice. Diego’s the type of person who thrives on fear, and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he scares me shitless.

  His tsk across the line is condescending, like he’s reprimanding a child. “You’re a smart girl. You know what I’m after. Give me the fucking chip, and I’ll leave you be.”

  “I don’t have any chip,” I cry then clamp my lips closed, not wanting to alarm Jenny or Judge. “I never did. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re a Goddamn liar,” he spews furiously. “I have video footage of you running from my office the day you took off from my house.”

  I frown because he’s not making any sense. “What? I only went in to get my purse.”

  “It’s pretty fucking convenient that the day the chip goes missing is the same day you went into my office without me,” he growls. “You obviously have a death wish. Now tell me where the Goddamn chip is!”

  I shake my head. “Diego, I swear—”

  “Hey, Eden, Judge and I are….”

  I glance at the doorway just as Jenny pokes her head around the corner. Her voice trails off when she sees the look on my face. Her gaze darts to the phone in my hand then back to my eyes before she spins and hurries away.

  “Who is that I hear?” Diego asks. “Is that the pretty blonde you’ve been staying with? You know who she reminds me of?” he continues. “She reminds me of the girl I had in my room the day you left. The one who was chained so beautifully to my wall. All bruised and bloody, her guts lying at my feet.” He hums, like he’s savoring the memory like he would a delicious meal. His words make me feel sick. My stomach actually twists and plummets, and I’m forced to cover my mouth. “I bet she’d look just as beautiful, but I think I’d play with her a bit first.” His voice changes, deepens into a deathly growl. “Get me that fucking chip or we’ll see just how beautiful she’ll be with her insides hanging from her body. I have it in my hand, and I’ll leave you be.”

  I gag and it’s only sheer
force of will that keeps the contents of my stomach down. His words are no idle threat. It’s a promise. He’s also lying, because I know damn good and well, he won’t leave me alone. He can’t chance me staying alive when I witnessed him murder a woman. No, even if I did have the chip and gave it to him, he’d kill me.

  I look up just as Judge storms into the room, anger making his scowl look dangerous. Jenny is hot on his trail. He stalks over and grabs the phone from my hand. It’s too late though, Diego’s already hung up.

  “Who in the fuck was that?” he demands once he realizes there’s no one on the line.

  I hug my stomach and hunch over, feeling drained and helpless. “Diego.”

  “Goddamn it, Eden,” he grates with aggravation. “Why in the hell didn’t you get me as soon as you knew it was him.”

  “Calm down, Judge,” Jenny orders, coming to sit beside me on the bed and putting her arm around my shoulders. “She’s already upset enough.”

  “Fuck,” he snarls and spins away from us, raking his hand through his hair angrily. He turns back to us. “We could have tried to put a trace on the call.”

  I lift my eyes. “He’s smarter than that. He would have used an untraceable phone.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He wanted to know where the chip was,” I answer quietly, dejectedly. Since I don’t have the stupid chip, Diego will eventually find me and…. Kill me, I guess. Or at least try. And in trying, he might hurt someone here in Malus. He’s already killed my dog, brutally so, hurt that Derek guy, and threatened to kill Jenny. I can’t let that happen. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I have to do something.

  “Are you sure you don’t have the chip?” Judge asks, suspicion evident in his voice.

  His question pisses me off, and I jump up from the bed, giving him my best glare.

  “I’ve already said I don’t fucking have it,” I growl, my balled fists at my side shaking from anger.

  “You say that, but we don’t know you. You just showed up in town with trouble trailing you, bringing danger to everyone who lives here. Why should we believe you?”