The Disciples: A Dark Romance Collection

by Sweet, Izzy

  It takes so much effort to move, gravity itself is fighting against me. Walking right now is like trying to run underwater.

  Stumbling forward, I grab onto the edge of a small table and steady myself.

  Marshall keeps screaming and begging behind his gag. As much as I personally detest the man I can’t just stand here and watch him suffer like this. It’s unthinkable.

  It’s completely unbearable.

  My entire being is in turmoil. I can’t think straight. My eyes can’t focus. There’s this cold horror rattling my bones.

  With a shaky hand, I pick up the pistol Lucifer left lying on the table.

  “Stop,” I cry out but my voice sounds so small, so uncertain.

  Lucifer looks up at me and makes a tsking sound of disapproval. “Put the gun down, Lily.”

  Lifting my chin into the air, the gun is shaking in my hand and I’m trying to be brave but then it goes off.

  Lucifer’s eyes go as wide as mine.

  Shit, I totally didn’t mean to do that, but I don’t let him know that. I ease my finger away from the trigger as he switches the blowtorch off.

  Marshall slumps forward in his bonds, dead or passed out.

  Is it over? That horrible panicked thing inside me begins to settle down.

  Lucifer stares at me for the longest time.

  “Fine. You don’t like the blowtorch,” he finally shrugs and sets the blowtorch down on the table next to Marshall. “It’s not my favorite either. The smell is fucking horrible.”

  Now that the blowtorch is out of the picture, I begin to relax. I point the gun down, towards the floor.

  “I’ll have to call Rosa and tell her to take the bacon off tomorrow’s menu,” he says before grabbing something on the other side of Marshall’s chair by the handle.

  Before I can fully process what’s about to happen, Lucifer walks around the front of Marshall’s chair and heaves up a sledgehammer. Leaning back, he takes aim then swings it forward. The sledgehammer collides with Marshall’s knees with a loud crack.

  Marshall comes to, screaming out in agony.

  Lucifer’s eyes gleam with pure, unadulterated pleasure.

  “What the fuck,” I gasp, lifting the gun and pointing it at Lucifer’s head. “What the actual fuck?”

  The pleasure dims in Lucifer’s eyes as he glances over at me and more pointedly the gun aimed at his head. “What? Too much?”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  He looks me dead in the eyes as he says, “He touched you.”

  I don’t even know what to say to that.

  Lifting the sledgehammer again, he weighs it thoughtfully in his hands. “He put you in danger.”

  Taking a step back, I watch him line up with Marshall’s knees. I know I should stop him but I can’t quite bring myself to do it.

  Everything is spinning out of control. I don’t know what to do. Should I shoot? Who do I shoot?

  How did it all come to this?

  Swinging forward, the sledgehammer crashes into Marshall again while Lucifer roars above the crack, “He fucking hurt you!”

  Marshall blubbers and begs behind his gag. He’s such a mess from the thigh down I can’t even bear to look at him.

  “Stop, please. You have to stop,” I beg willing my hand to stop shaking. Averting my eyes, I focus on the pools of blood on the floor instead, finding a strange calm in them. “It’s enough. You’ve done enough. Please.”

  “It will never be enough, Lily. He deserves so much more than I could ever do to him.”

  “No,” I shake my head, unable to keep the tears back. “No one deserves this. No one.”

  “You only say that because you don’t know what he had planned for the children.”

  And just like that the edges of my vision stop shaking. Everything comes into sharp focus.

  “What?” I ask, glancing back up in shock. “What are you talking about?”

  Still gripping the sledgehammer in his hands, Lucifer turns towards me, his face a cold mask.

  “I heard them talking in Japanese. You may not have understood what they were saying but I did. I’m fluent. You think he was going to stop with you once he got what he wanted? No. He also made a deal to sell the children. The Yakuza were especially interested in Adam… they had a Middle Eastern buyer lined up, prepared to pay top dollar.”

  “Oh god,” I gasp, feeling a fresh wave of bile rising up in my throat.

  “And our little Evie with her blonde hair…”

  Every ounce of compassion I was feeling for Marshall goes up in flames in an instant. He was going to hurt my children? My babies?

  I turn the gun now on Marshall. “You fucking monster! You were going to sell the children too?”

  I don’t need his answer. Of course he was. After he gave us to Lucifer, how could I expect anything less?

  “Don’t shoot him, my love. A bullet would be too gentle.”

  Marshall moans and shakes his head weakly back and forth. My finger brushes against the trigger. Everything in me wants to shoot him, to put an end to this.

  But I just can’t bring myself to do it.

  How do I end a life? Even his? He’s done awful, horrible things to us. He’s the entire reason the children and I are even in this mess. I would never have been in this position if he had just stepped up. If he had given a shit. If he had been a husband, a father. If he had just been a fucking man.

  “Lily…” Lucifer says softly, dropping the sledgehammer to the ground with a thud before he begins to walk towards me.

  I turn towards him and the gun turns with me.

  “Put the gun down,” he says calmly.

  I shake my head but I’m lowering the barrel down as I do it. If I can’t shoot Marshall how can I shoot him? Now that I know why he’s doing all of this I get it. I totally understand why he’s doing this.

  Gently, Lucifer lays his hand on top of the pistol and pushes it down. “Give me that,” he says softly, drawing it from my fingers. Turning, he sets the pistol off to the side before pulling me into his arms.

  I need his arms around me. I need his warmth and his comfort. Clutching his shirt, I bury my face against his chest and all the emotions inside of me come bubbling out of my mouth. I cry and I sob, soaking him with my tears. I cry for myself. For my children. For Marshall.

  He holds me through it all, stroking back my hair and whispering soft words of comfort.

  “It will all be over soon,” Lucifer reassures me as my sobs die away.

  The numbness is starting to sink in. I welcome it. I need it to get through this.

  Tipping my head back, I peer up at his face. “Lucifer—”

  His eyes flash and he cuts me off. “Use my name, Lily.”

  I lick my lips and say his name tentatively. It feels foreign and strange on my tongue. “Matthew… I want to go home. I want to see Adam and Evelyn.”

  He nods, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re almost done here.”

  I don’t like the sound of that. What more is there to do? How much more can Marshall’s body withstand?

  “Can’t you just shoot him like the others so we can get out of here?”

  Did I really just say that?

  “No. We must send a message. This kind of shit ends here. No one messes with you, and no one will after this.”

  “I don’t know if I can…” I say, my voice quivering. I’m pretty sure I’ve reached my brutal torture limit.

  Lucifer nods and turns with me, guiding me slowly to a chair. “You don’t have to watch.”

  “Can’t I just go home?” I ask hopefully.

  “No,” he says and pushes me down until I’m seated. “It will be a long time before I’ll be able to let you out of sight again.”

  Oh god, he’s really going to make me do this. He’s going to make me sit here while he tortures Marshall behind my back.

  “Not much longer, my love,” he reassures me. “Then we can go
home.”

  Squeezing my shoulder, he turns away and I listen to his footsteps as he walks away from me.

  Staring forward, I focus on the concrete wall in front of me and try to block out what comes next.

  Unfortunately, not being able to actually see what is happening only seems to amplify the sounds. Every grunt, every crack hits my ear in crystal clear high definition. I can only imagine what is happening, and I try very hard not to picture it.

  There’s the clanking of metal against metal, Marshall’s cries and muffled begging, and worst of all Lucifer’s laughs.

  “Look what you made me do…” Lucifer chides Marshall and then Marshall starts screaming in earnest.

  My hands shake and I clasp them together but then the rest of my body begins to shake and I break out in a cold sweat. I don’t know how much time passes but my resolve begins to crumble.

  I can’t go along with this; I can’t be a part of this.

  Just as I rise from my chair, Marshall’s screams rise in volume.

  “He’s almost done. Do you have any last words for him, Lily?”

  I freeze in place, not daring to turn around. I know whatever is back there I don’t want to see it.

  A million things run through my mind. A million questions.

  But the only one I can get past my lips is, “Why?”

  Marshall coughs and sputters. I brace myself, waiting to hear… what? The final death blow? The absence of suffering?

  I certainly don’t expect Marshall to try to answer me after everything he’s been through.

  “Lily, I would never sell our—”

  Whatever he was trying to say is cut off by a wet, smacking sound. Then he’s only gurgling.

  There’s thrashing, skin slapping against skin.

  Then it all quiets. The only thing I can hear is my own labored panting.

  Is it done?

  Is this it?

  “He’s gone,” Lucifer grunts.

  I’m suddenly overcome by the strongest wave of sadness.

  He’s dead, he’s really dead.

  “Don’t cry for him,” Lucifer tells me, pulling me into his arms. I didn’t even hear him walk up over the noise of my sobs. “Don’t waste your tears on him. He doesn’t deserve them.”

  I’m not crying only for Marshall, though, I’m crying for all of us.

  Lucifer lifts me up into his arms and carries me out of the torture room. I cling desperately to him, hiding my face against his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “All done?” I recognize James’ voice.

  “Yes, have someone clean up the room,” Lucifer answers.

  “The body?”

  “Save it. It’s a message.”

  Lucifer’s arms tighten around me and he hauls me back up as I start to slip down. “How are the children?”

  “They’re safe in the safe room. I’ve sent word but they won’t release them until you personally see to it. Is she okay?”

  “Yes. It’s been a long day, she’s exhausted.”

  Lucifer carries me out into the day. It’s strange, it feels like so much has happened today that it should be night by now. That the things that happened in that room should have only happened in the darkness.

  Cold air hits my back and the sunlight stings my eyes. I clench them shut and cling harder to his neck.

  Someone wraps a coat around me. It isn’t enough to keep the chill out of my bones but it helps.

  A car door opens. We slide into warmth.

  “Where to?”

  “Home,” Lucifer answers.

  The car door shuts. We fall into a heavy silence.

  As the car pulls out, I focus on Lucifer. The steady beat of his heart, the slow, even rate of his breathing.

  After a few minutes, his arms tighten around me and I feel his lips against the top of my head. “I love you, Lily.”

  As broken as my heart is at this moment, it warms and swells to hear him say that.

  “After this, no one will ever try to take you away from me again.”

  His arms tighten, nearly cracking my ribs.

  “No one will try to hurt our children.”

  I gasp and my body shudders as I start sobbing again.

  “Lily?” he asks and gently pushes me away. His fingers go to my chin and he tips my head up, forcing me to look at him.

  Even through the blur of my tears, he’s beautiful. A beautiful monster.

  But he’s my monster.

  And despite everything… I love him.

  Epilogue

  Lily

  9 Months Later

  “It’s a boy!” The doctor cries out triumphantly from between my knees.

  My son’s first cries of life are like music to my ears.

  “You did so good,” Matthew murmurs, peppering my face with kisses. “So good.” He beams down at me, looking every inch the proud, happy father.

  I smile weakly up at him.

  I’m exhausted but happy that the pain is done. My labor was fast, faster than my previous two, but the most painful one yet.

  It was worth it though, so worth it.

  The past few months haven’t always been easy, but Matthew has been by my side the whole way, and it feels like every day I fall more and more in love with him. He’s so good to me, he treats me like a queen, and he’s amazing with the kids. You can tell he loves them, really loves them.

  And true to his word, after he sent his message there have been no more attempts on our family or his operations. We’ve been safe, happy, and prosperous.

  There’s a flurry of action at the end of my bed. The nurses whisk my son over to a little station that’s been set up, taking his weight and vitals down while the doctor finishes up attending to me.

  “How do you feel, Lilith?” The doctor asks, rolling away from my bed and standing from his stool. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash.

  “I feel good, just tired.”

  The doctor nods. “That’s to be expected. Everything looks good, but you should take it easy for a few days. Do you want something for the pain?”

  I shake my head, “No.”

  Matthew says over me, “Yes.”

  I frown up at him.

  He meets my glare and straightens from his bent position, now towering over the side of my bed. “Lily,” he admonishes me.

  “Fine,” I sigh, giving in. I don’t have the energy to fight over this. “I’ll take something.”

  “Good,” The doctor smiles, looking between us. “I’ll write up the script and someone will be around shortly with it. Do you have any questions?”

  We both shake our heads.

  “Well, then,” he steps forward, sticking out his hand. “Congratulations. I’ll be around later to check in.”

  After shaking hands, we both say goodbye to my doctor and thank him. Then I wonder what’s taking so long with the nurses.

  Is something wrong? Did they find something? I can hear a bunch of chattering coming from the station, and my son is no longer crying, but they haven’t returned him to me yet. It’s crucial that my son and I start skin to skin contact.

  After a couple more minutes pass I look up at Matthew. “What’s taking so long?”

  “I don’t know,” he frowns. “I’ll go check.”

  Reluctantly peeling away from my side, Matthew walks to the back of the room and greets the nurses.

  “Is everything alright?” I hear him ask.

  “Oh yes, yes,” the nurses reassure him and one of them giggles. “He’s just so beautiful…”

  “He’s like a little angel,” one of them sighs.

  “In my twenty years working this ward, I’ve never seen a baby as cute as him.”

  I don’t remember the nurses ever fawning over Adam or Evelyn this much after they were born. I have to wonder if these are actual nurses and not their younger, less experienced assistants.

  I hear Matthew thank the ladies and then he asks if he can hold his son. Eagerly t
he nurses help him take our baby into his arms. Turning back to me, Matthew beams, walking carefully back to my bed.

  Sitting up eagerly, I hold my arms out, accepting my little bundle. Matthew bends over me and we both gaze down at the little person we created.

  “He’s perfect,” Matthew sighs and leans down, kissing first his head then my head.

  “Yes,” I softly agree with him.

  Our eyes meet and we share a moment of pure contentment. Then Matthew nods at me and takes a step back.

  Unwrapping the blanket he’s been swaddled in, I take a moment to brush back my son’s blonde, downy hair and then I bring him up to my breast.

  He latches without hesitation.

  “You sure about the name?” Matthew asks and it’s obvious he still wants me to reconsider it.

  We’ve been going back and forth on this but I’m putting my foot down. He, for whatever reason, wants to name our son Damian. I, on the other hand, would rather name him after my grandfather, David.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I still like David best.”

  “Very well,” he sighs as if it pains him to give in. “David it is.”

  “Thank you,” I smile, happy and relieved I no longer have to fight him on this.

  “You know I can always have it changed later…” he grins playfully.

  “You wouldn’t!” I gasp at him.

  He chuckles and nods his head. “I wouldn’t.”

  Little David nurses for some time and after a while the hormones start to kick in. Feeling incredibly sleepy, I start to drift off.

  I jerk awake just as Matthew is lifting David away from my breast.

  “Get some rest. I’ll take care of him,” he says softly.

  I’m so tired all I can do is murmur my thanks, sinking down into the bed.

  When I awake, the room is quiet, too quiet. Sitting up straight, I search for David or Matthew only to find Mary seated in the chair beside my bed.

  “Good morning, dearie,” she greets me. In her arms she holds David, swaddled up tightly in his blue blanket.

  I start to relax. Over the past few months, I’ve come to trust her. She’s picked up most of my slack with the children as I’ve grown bigger and less mobile. She’s been absolutely amazing with them.

  “Where’s Matthew?” I ask, reaching for the little remote thing that will change the position of my mattress.