Broken Glass

by Pavan Kaur

  ***

  I've thought about this moment since the day Hope told me about him. I just didn't know how I was going to have fun with him, but Jackson said he would have everything ready that I would need and fuck did he come through on his word.

  I know that Jackson hates this part of what we do, but I get a feeling that he’s going to enjoy this just as much as me.

  Jackson and I were talking the other day, and he was saying that Hope needs something good to happen for her and killing this dick will be the second best thing. I asked what the first thing was and he replied with, "You."

  Now I want Hope to live the best life. She's lived through hell, so it's about time she gets to live a good life but am I the right person to give that to her? The things I do right now are dark, and it will only bring her to the darkness I have inside.

  I want to be the light in her life, but I need to finish what I've started. Until then, I don't think I should get too close to her. I'm already finding it harder to stay away from her; she's finally starting to open up to me now—getting comfortable. I've had a glimpse of what life will be like once she finally gets out of the dark place and I want to be there when she does.

  As I walk into the room, I see Jackson standing with his back to me. I look over at Joseph with his hands strapped above his head.

  "Did Hope enjoy her birthday?" Jackson asks as I stand next to him. "I got her something.”

  "She did, I hope. What did you get her?" I ask as I light up a cigarette.

  "I got it for her, and you can wait until she opens it.”

  "When you coming over?"

  "Tomorrow.”

  Inhaling smoke, I look over to him. "Has he said anything?"

  “I’ve not asked him anything.”

  I'm not going to ask Jackson how he got him here, he'll just say the less I know, the better.

  Walking over to the sick fucking asshole, I look at him, wondering what questions I want to ask. Questions about Hope. Questions about him.

  "Why do you have me here? I don’t even know you." Joseph glares at me as I just stare—all I can do is stare at the evil bastard with his arms tied above his head and his legs tied at the ankles. This man has everything and could get any woman if he wanted her. I mean, he’s fucking rich. Jackson works for men like him all the time, men that are rich and can get what they want and when things go wrong they get divorced. None of them are sick enough to buy cute girls and do all that shit to them.

  But I suppose a sick fuck like Joseph will never be normal.

  "You’re right, you don’t know me, but you hurt someone that we’ve started to care about." I pull a chair over as he stares blankly at me.

  "I’ve never seen—”

  “No, you haven’t," I stop him. I mean, his voice is annoying me now. “We’ll get back to who it is in a little while. But first, I thought we could play a game." I grab the knife off the table. "I mean I will play a game." I turn to him and smile.

  Joseph’s eyes widen as I walk over to him. When I get started on this piece of shit he’s going to beg me to stop, he’s going to cry, he’s going to scream.

  "Please," he snorts, his mouth twisting up at the corner into a snarl before he yells, "People will be looking for me, and when they find me, there'll be no place for you to hide. The bounty on your head will be so big; nobody will be able to resist taking you out for the cash!"

  I don’t doubt that’s what he’d do, but I think it’s hilarious that he thinks he’s going to be leaving here on two feet.

  I lift the knife to his left wrist, letting the cold blade slide across his skin to his forearm, his veins bulging from where he’s straining against the ropes. The look of shock on his face makes me smile, and his murderous words are cut off as he follows the path of the metal.

  I continue down his arm, gradually tipping the blade against his skin until the sharp edge slices into his filthy flesh in the crook of his elbow. His scream echoes off the walls, and I stop.

  “Wow.” I shake my head. “I barely made it an inch before you screamed. You’re a pathetic coward,” I say next to his ear, my voice low and menacing. “And to think, I haven’t even gotten started.”

  His mouth opens to protest, but before any sound can pass his cracked and split lips, I make a quick move and slice into his right arm, giving him matching wounds.

  I turn and slowly walk back to my chair and sit. I cross my leg over and lazily glance to the items on the table, eyeing up the next one I can’t wait to use. Oh, he’s not going to enjoy this, but I am.

  Sulphuric acid has always been my go-to when it comes to these ugly assholes. I enjoy the sound of them screaming. They get a taste of how it felt for the young, innocent lives they destroyed.

  "Are you not going to ask him?” Jackson asks as he comes over to stand by the table.

  I don’t take my eyes off my target, watching two thin streams of crimson trailing down his arms and soaking into the fabric of his grey shirt. “Oh, I will,” I reply as though I have all the fucking time in the world.

  Before I do, I want him to be in white-hot agony. I want the pain to steal the breath from his lungs until it feels like they’re going to explode inside of him. I walk over to Joseph as I grab the small glass bottle of acid from the table. I stand in front of him and revel at the terror showing in his eyes

  I keep my voice calm as I ask, "I have to know… You have money, you own clubs, so why buy little girls?" Why would a young, hot-shot businessman, the kind that has eyes on him at all times, buy girls? It's so fucking high-risk of being exposed.

  He starts laughing. "Because I can. Just the thought of the sweet little bitch I had makes my dick hard—she was something special, all right.”

  I clench my fist and pull my arm back before letting it fly toward his face, his jaw crunching under my knuckles on impact. “You know, it’s people like you that make me enjoy what I’m doing right now," I say as he spits blood out onto the floor.

  I gently squeeze the dropper from the top of the bottle and pull it out, careful not to lose any of the precious liquid inside the glass tube.

  “What the fuck is that?” Joseph asks, his voice trembling while he stupidly tries to back away from my unhurried movement.

  “Shh, this won’t hurt much.” I move the tiny end of the tube over the first wound. “It’ll be fucking excruciating,” I say as I allow one small drop to be released. I close my eyes as his high-pitched screams fill the room. “Music to my ears.” A couple more drops and then I do the same to the other side, watching as his skin begins to melt, the smell of burning flesh filling my nostrils.

  I walk back to the table and grab the small photograph.

  Joseph’s heavy breaths calm a little, his chest heaving as he pants through his pain. "I don’t understand; what have I done to you?" he grinds out through his clenched jaw.

  "You haven’t done anything to me; you’ve done it to someone else. A girl you bought.—”

  “Hope.” Joseph shakes his head.

  I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, still holding onto the photo. “What makes you think I’m talking about her?"

  "She's the only one I've ever bought," he purrs. An evil smile stretches across his face, and I want to rip it from him. "She just needed to learn the rules and when she did," he licks his lips, "God, she was perfect."

  I slide my eyes to Jackson and see that he’s staring at him in disgust. When he faces me, he grinds his jaw, hatred burning in his eyes.

  “You know that there’s a two-million dollar price on Hope’s head,” the sick fucker says, catching our attention. “The big boss wants her back—teach her a few lessons." He lets out a low chuckle. "She was the best he ever trained." His grin drops and he glares behind me towards Jackson. “So, instead of wasting your fucking time on me, go and make yourself a rich man—find her.”

  I can't help but laugh, and his surprised eyes move back over to me. "Do we look like we need money?" The asshole has read me wrong in so many
ways. I get up close to him, so close that I can smell the whiskey on his breath. I hold the photo in front of his face. "Do you know this man?"

  Joseph's eyes flinch, but he shakes his head. “Never seen him.”

  I spin around and walk over to Jackson. "He’s lying,” I grind out.

  "You want me to get him down?" Jackson looks over my shoulder. "And try to keep your fucking cool. I’m worried you’re going to slip and fuck this up before we know anything."

  I let out a long breath. ”I know, but he’s talking about her—”

  "I know,” he cuts in, grabbing my arm as I try to walk around him. “But now you know why she’s always hiding. They’re still looking for her." He walks away as I decide on what item to use next.

  Hearing the chair behind me, I turn to watch Jackson pull the rope from the overhead hook, lowering the man's arms. He tries to struggle, even with his bound legs, but Jackson's too fast and throws him in the chair. His fatigued arms slam down on the table when Jackson hauls him forward, and I hold them down while Jackson grabs the duct tape. It takes no time for Jackson to secure his arms by rolling the tape around the table over and over until he's satisfied the nonce is secure.

  "I’m going to ask again,” I say calmly, holding up the photo as I perch on the edge of the table. “Who is this man?"

  "Like I’ve already said—never seen him," he replies, his trembling tone giving away that he’s close to shitting his pants.

  I stand up and grab the other wooden chair to sit opposite him. I trail my fingertips over the object of my desire, a five-inch dagger that has been sharpened so much it could be used for surgery.

  In one quick movement, I grab the knife and stab it through his little finger, barely scraping the knuckle. I grin as the digit comes away easily, rolling off the table and dropping with a light thud on the floor.

  Joseph screams out a string of curse words too choked up in blinding agony to understand. He pants as he tries to catch his breath.

  "Where can I find him?" I ask again. This asshole knows the answer to every question I want to ask, and I'm going to get them if I have to cut everyone out of him.

  "I don’t know where he lives—he comes to me.” He lifts his sweat-soaked head to look at me again, his eyes red and his lids fluttering. "What do you want from him?"

  "I don’t want anything from him, I want to kill him!” I roar as I slam the knife into his next finger and smile as he screams. "You have eight fingers left, asshole. Shall we see how many it takes until I get some answers?” I sneer, taking the blade as I run it over the three digits he has left on his right hand.

  "You can’t find him first—he’s a ghost. He finds you.”

  I can’t believe how hard it is to find one man. Even when I track down people that know him, I still can’t find him.

  I lift out of my chair and lean over, getting in his face. "But you know where he is, or you know how to find him, so start talking!” I yell. I sit back and take the small plastic bowl and pour acid into it, excitement stirring inside of me with the idea of what I’m about to do. I look up and smile as I shake the last drop into the dish.

  “Stop, stop, you fucker!” he bellows, but I don’t. I grab the thick rubber glove from beside me and put it on. I use the same knife and slice through the tape holding down his intact hand and grip it tightly. “No, no. I don’t know anything!” Joseph’s scream pierces my ears as I put his hand into the bowl of acid. "I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you whatever you want!” The chair rocks as he thrashes about against his restraints, but it’s no good. Jackson did a good fucking job as usual.

  "Where can I find him?" I ask again, spittle flying from my mouth.

  “Honestly, I don’t know, but he’s looking for one person.” He grits his teeth as the acid does its job of making a fucking mess out of his hand. “You find them, you’ll find him,” he spits.

  "Who do I have to find?" Maybe they will be easier to find than him.

  “Hope... You find her. He wants…her.”

  My eyes move over to Jackson and then back to the piece of shit in front of me. “And why is that?”

  "She was the prize of all prizes, everyone wanted her, and I mean everyone. But then she escaped, and he wants her back."

  Joseph’s head dips as his eyes begin to droop. His body’s starting to shut down on him—doing what it can to block out the stress I’ve put him under. I thought he would last a little longer than this.

  Leaning back in my chair, I pull out my pack of cigarettes from my pocket, light one up and take a long drag. Jackson picks up the cold bucket of water and throws it over him to wake him up.

  “How do I get in contact with him?” My eyes move to Jackson, letting him know what I want him to do next. I told Hope I was going to make sure that his last breath will be filled with the worst kinds of pain, worse than the acid disfiguring his skin and worse than what he could ever think of and I’m going to make sure that it is.

  "You have to go through the..." His eyes close as his words trail off.

  I slap his face and click my fingers. “Hey, hey, wake up. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  “Website," Joseph whispers. He’s not going to last much longer now.

  “Give me your information,” I demand and remember everything he tells me to access his profile page.

  Jackson starts pouring gasoline over him as I reach the end of my cigarette.

  Joseph shakes his head quickly, sputtering against the flammable liquid as it cascades down his face. "I told you what I know!" He continues to futilely struggle against the ropes and duct tape holding him in place. "I never did anything to you!" He looks at me, and the fear in his eyes sends a sweet shiver down my spine.

  “No, you didn’t.” I lean closer to him, the sharp stench of gasoline stinging my nostrils. “But, you did to someone I care about.” I stand up and walk back away from him, my eyes never leaving his. “ Hope says hello,” I say, flicking my cigarette toward him. I watch as he catches fire, the flames bursting over him and I smile.

  My work here is done.

  Chapter 23

  Hope

  The moment Leo’s phone rang, I knew what it was for. I knew Jackson had found him. I stayed calm in front of Leo, but deep down the fear was there. Fear that maybe they’ve come to New York because they found me.

  Because of that I haven’t left from this space, tucked in close to the window. Leo says he’ll protect me and I believe him but he doesn’t know Uncle Jack and how much power he has. What if it’s a trap and they hurt him? I close my eyes for a moment trying not to think the worst. I need Leo to be okay. I need him to win.

  The way I'm feeling for Leo is getting stronger every day. He treats me so well. He respects me, and I've never had that before; I've never felt wanted or special.

  The moment Joseph bought me, I lost my life, lost my soul. I had become his property.

  Leo is giving me the chance to become a person again; he’s giving me my soul back, giving me the chance to live. I wasn’t able to go back to sleep once he left, there was too much happening in my head. From all the things he did to me, to worrying that Leo was walking into a trap.

  ***

  "Your Uncle taught you well." Joseph sits behind me. "I'm going to make sure that you only ever think of me." His mouth moves closer to the back of my neck. Closing my eyes, I grab a handful of the bed sheets. I don't think my body can retake this today, five times and it's not even evening. My body hurts to the point that I don't want to touch it.

  My eyes open when I hear the door closing; Leo’s back. Staring out the window for a moment, I remember the last time he came back from a night like this. It looked like it had taken a lot out of him. As I look up at the night sky, the only question that I have is, is one of my monsters finally out of my life?

  Grabbing my sweater, I slowly make my way downstairs. The room is so quiet, not one sound can be heard. Jackson must have come with him as I see the door close before I reach the bottom of the stai
rs.

  Looking around, I head to the kitchen and turn to the yard. I’ve picked up that Leo likes to sit in the yard when he’s had a hard day. He’s sitting on the chair as he smokes, leaning forward with his head in his hand. Something is stressing him out; did Joseph say something to him about me?

  Making my way outside, I sit on the table in front of him. He slowly lifts his head as the smoke leaves his nose. I’m not sure what I should say, I don’t want to say anything, but I know I should.

  Bringing my hand closer to his I move my fingers over the cut across his knuckles as he takes another drag from his cigarette. My eyes move over him, and I see that he's changed his clothes, which tells me Jackson was here.

  Leo's gaze meets mine, and I feel like I can read everything he wants to say, the coldness in his eyes makes my body stiffen, but at the same time the power in them feels like a tornado hitting me.

  “You don’t have to fear him anymore.” He takes my hand in his. “I told you I won’t let you fear anything.”

  Just the thought of him never being around me again and never having to hear him again has me feeling in ways I can't control. Biting my lower lip as the tears escape, Leo wipes them away with his thumb, and his hand rests on my cheek for a moment. "Hope, ask me. You've wanted to ask for a while."

  He’s right. The moment he came to my apartment, the moment he brought me here I’ve had one question.

  “Why are you doing all this?” I sob. This man who I hardly know saw the pain I was in, understood the scars I was hiding before even seeing them and he helped me. He wants nothing in return and I don’t know how to deal with it. No one has ever been selfless with me. Not since I lost my family. And there’s nothing I can give him to express my gratitude.