“What the fuck has gotten into you? Fucking whore.” He bites out and punches me right in the jaw. It stings, but it’s soothing at the same time. Pain always numbs the sensation of insects trailing all over my skin.
I know he’s dragging me down a bumpy road. I can feel rocks scratching my legs. But the pain feels so good. I deserve it. I deserve every punishment they’re about to give me.
“Lydia…” I murmur.
“You crazy bitch.” The man says through clenched teeth before I begin to feel his hand roaming all over my body, tugging at my clothes and ripping them.
I wait for him to rape me. He wouldn’t be destroying me, for I am already ruined.
But instead of having him between my legs, cold water splashes strongly on my body. I flinch, and a gasp escapes my lips at the shock. The water is wintry. It feels like thousands of knives cutting through my heated flesh. A smile tugs at my lips. I deserve this pain. I earned it all.
“What the fuck happened here?” My uncle’s voice echoes in the room. He’s angry, like always.
“She just lost it and started screaming like a lunatic, sir.” The man splashing me with water answers.
Footsteps approach me. I know it’s my uncle. The sound of his heels hitting the ground is familiar.
He fists my hair and forces my eyes to meet his. For a long moment, we stare at each other. Our eyes speaking what our minds are thinking. The intensity of his glare is like a laser tag. Hatred is nothing compared to what I actually feel for this man. You can hate someone without wanting to cause them harm, and you can abhor someone to the point of craving to cut them in pieces and hang their body parts in a museum for everybody to see. That’s how I feel about this man.
“What the fuck is your problem now?” he asks in a low, dangerous voice.
“Lydia… I killed her.”
Wicked laughter erupts from his throat, strong and powerful.
“You crazy bitch. Hallucinating over the dead slave? Yes, you killed her. You’re a fucking murderer. You beat her to death when I only told you to punish her.”
He lets go of my hair and slides his hands in his pockets. Towering over me, he looks down at me like I’m nothing but an insect he would like to crush with his shoe.
“I gotta say I’m impressed. Turns out, you and I are much alike, darling.”
He continues talking but I stop hearing him. Leaning my head to the side, I spew my guts right on his shoe. I didn’t plan on doing it, but hearing him curse and hiss, I can’t help but smile weakly.
I only smile for a beat before the image of Lydia consumes my mind once again. Tears form in the corners of my eyes. And right before I fall into a stupor, I fight my brain to remain conscious for whatever comeback I have for him.
“I’m glad you’re impressed. What can I say? Like father like daughter.”
Maksim
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask Aleksandr as he stares at the construction workers tearing down the walls of Marco’s basement.
He shakes his head slightly.
“I don’t know, man. Ever since you showed me the medical report, I just… I can’t believe it.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I feel the fury build up in me.
“I can’t wait to catch him.” I hiss in a low voice.
“I mean… How can he be her father and be so cruel to her?”
“It’s Leonardo we’re talking about. He’s a heartless coward with nothing to lose. Nothing to consider.”
I pause for a moment. My heart aches for my woman. I haven’t had a full night of sleep ever since I lost her. I’m weak, and the only thing that’s keeping me awake and energized is the eagerness to find her and the keenness to kill him.
“Jackpot over here.” One of the construction workers yells out.
Both Aleksandr and I rush toward him. And as soon as I see it, I freeze. I stop hearing everybody around me. My eyes are pinned on the red, rusty door. Elena was right.
“Are you seeing this?” Aleksandr’s voice snaps me out of my daze.
“Break the locks,” I order the construction guy standing by the door.
He instantly starts breaking the locks, one after the other, until there’s no more.
I kick the door with my foot so hard that it opens widely, revealing a dark hallway. Just like a mad man, I storm toward it. Aleksandr’s firm hand grips my forearm.
“Not now. Let me call Mikhail and the other men. They’re waiting outside.”
I pull my arm out of his grasp and hiss, “Don’t you fucking dare stop me right now. I have my guns and my knives, and I’m ready to get my woman back.”
I storm into the darkness and turn the flashlight on, leaving Aleksandr behind in the basement.
Spider webs are everywhere. It smells like mold and piss. But I don’t hold back. I walk down the narrow, dark hallway with my heart pounding loudly in my ears and a pulse slamming somewhere in my nape.
I’m so close. So close to getting Elena back in my arms. I have been waiting for this for days. I refuse to think that I’m not gonna find her down here. That all my efforts will be unsuccessful.
It doesn’t take long before I hear footsteps behind me. Turning around swiftly, I see Aleksandr, Mikhail and other men following me. We are all equipped with guns. The longer we walk down this dark, narrow path, the stronger the smell of mold and piss fills my nostrils.
The other day, after finding out that Elena isn’t Marco’s daughter but Leonardo’s, I almost passed out. I couldn’t believe it. It stirred my rage and made the beast inside of me roar in pure suffering. Then everything hit me. The fiery ache in her eyes is similar to his. For fucks sakes, even her fucking smile resembles his. It turned out that Marco couldn’t have children after all.
Shaking my head as I pick up my pace, I sigh deeply as the image of Elena flashes in my mind. What would her reaction be once she figures it out? How the fuck is she even going to live a normal life after knowing that the man who tortured her all those years, is not her uncle but her biological father.
Fury makes my blood boil. Scowling, I continue walking toward the unknown. I squint my eyes when I notice a wall further down the hall. The closer I get, the clearer my vision becomes only to realize that it’s not a wall. It’s a door.
“Another fucking door.” Aleksandr hisses behind my back.
When we get to the black, wooden door, I realize that there are no visible locks on it. Which means kicking it with my foot is all I need to break it. I fist the doorknob and turn it to the left. And to my surprise, it opens wide.
The door isn’t locked.
Pointing our guns toward the darkness, we all walk slowly, making sure we don’t make any sound. The smell here is even worse. It could be the lack of air that’s causing it.
The emptiness of the space doesn’t help my anxiety at all. With every slow step that I take, my body stiffens, and puddles of sweat slide down my temples and my forehead. I’m ready to kill anybody who comes in my way of finding Elena, but I’m also scared shitless. Not for my safety or well-being. I’m frightened of whatever they did to her. Scared shitless of losing her.
The men and I stay silent as we make our way further into the darkness. There are no guards and no sign of any human being. Turning the flashlight to the right, I find an empty old cell, and I freeze. Aleksandr and my men also stop in their tracks. We all gape at the rusted cell and the blood instantly drains from my face. The tunnel is not for contraband. It’s for slaves.
My knees turn wobbly, and tears fill my eyes. I want to roar in hurt and fear. If this is what they used Elena for…
A firm hand squeezes my shoulder tightly. “It’s okay, boss. We’ll find her,” whispers Mikhail.
Ignoring his words, I continue walking silently as I stare at the empty cells to my left and right. The atmosphere is thick, and the smell is horrible. No doubt these cells witnessed some of the most horrible torture in the history of human slavery.
My heart skips a beat when I
hear a soft sob. My pupils widen in the dark as I angle the flashlight toward wherever the sound came from.
A woman lies weakly on the ground. Her tangled hair covers most of her face, and despite being naked, the amount of bruises that cover her body make her look like she’s fully clothed.
“Jesus Christ!” Aleksandr hisses behind me.
Her eyes meet mine, they’re blue and wide and full of sorrow. She mumbles something that is barely audible. I crouch down in front of the cell and look straight into her eyes. She blinks once, and a tear rolls down her temple.
“He-lp.” She manages past her stiff jaw. She looks drugged and numb. Her body is bony and fragile.
I nod my head slightly and manage to smile at her weakly despite the shattering melancholy that’s puncturing my lungs and making it hard for me to breathe.
“I got you,” I reassure her softly.
Elena
Shutting the door behind me, I hurry toward my bed and get underneath the warm covers just like I used to do when I was young and scared of the monster that used to hide in my closet. My vision is blurry, and the atmosphere is cold around me. I shiver beneath the covers and my teeth chatter.
What have I done?
My father will never forgive me for sneaking into his office and finding those documents. Is that why he and Mom were fighting? I cannot hide this. I deserve answers. I deserve to know whether they are true or not.
Oh, God! I want them to not be true. The devil cannot be my dad. It’s impossible. I’m nothing like him.
I push the covers off my body and rush toward the mirror. Silence prevails as I assess my facial features. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that although I’m nothing like him, I look exactly like him.
My stomach clenches and acid bile rises up my throat. Hot tears fill my eyes. How did I not see it? The darkness that lives inside of me I got from him. I just got used to controlling it.
I’m not my father’s daughter. The nice man that I called Dad my whole life knows that I’m not his.
My palm covers my mouth, preventing a scream from rising up my throat and spilling out like lava. Shaking my head slowly, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, regretting being alive and wanting to die of shame and hurt. I’m the product of an affair between a heartless man and a cheating wife.
Tears stream down my face as I watch myself cry and sob silently. I want to climb up a high building or a mountain and scream at the top of my lungs. I can’t believe it. How? Why? I need answers. I deserve answers, and I will get them.
Wiping the tears off my face with my sleeves. I decide to wait for them to come back home so I can interview both of them. I need answers. I want one of them to tell me that whatever I read in that document is wrong. I don’t give a fuck that I wasn’t allowed to sneak into Dad’s office and search his stuff. Maybe if he wasn’t too drunk and running after my drunken mother to the car, he would have remembered to lock his stupid office.
Slamming my fist into the mirror, I feel the fury running through my hot veins. I hate them all. I hate everybody for hurting me. They all deceived me. They all lied to me.
The sound of car doors closing comes clear from the window. I don’t bother looking through the window to confirm whether it’s them or not.
I know it’s them.
They probably are done fighting and think that they can just come back home and hug me and tell me how much they love me. I’m done with their fucking lies. Time for the fucking truth.
Storming out of the room, I take the stair down two at a time. Flames of anger race through my blood like a volcano. Scowling, I make sure to hold the tears stubbornly in my eyes as I fist the doorknob and open the door with force.
My eyes widen, and my lips part in shock.
It’s not Mom and Dad.
Two cops stand tall and still right before my eyes. The look in their eyes is not reassuring. The tallest one of the them gives me a pursed-lip smile. My heart thuds heavily in my chest, the air thickens, and the sky turns gloomy within a matter of seconds.
Two cops can only mean one thing – bad fucking news.
Swallowing thickly, I manage enough strength to break the silence.
“Can I help you?” I ask in a low voice.
That night was the last night I ever saw my parents.
* * *
Something cold strikes my face so hard, causing me to whimper as my eyes fly open. It doesn’t take long for me to assess my surroundings and realize that I’m still locked up in the darkness. Except for this time, I’m tied to a chair. I know what my uncle is trying to do. Or shall I call him Dad instead?
He wants to destroy me and torture me before killing me and ending my anguish for once and for all. Either way, I don’t care anymore. I don’t deserve to die peacefully now that I know that I’m a murderer.
I sigh deeply and shut my eyes. The image of Lydia haunts my thoughts again. Even if my uncle was to give me freedom today, there’s no way I’ll be able to move on like I didn’t take someone’s life away. I’m officially corrupted just like him.
“Open your eyes.” His voice. Strong, powerful, and evil reverberates off the walls.
Obeying his order, I open my eyes and stare directly into his hazel ones. They’re the same as mine. Even the fire in them is similar to the one that blazes in mine every time I’m angry.
“So you knew all along, didn’t you?” he asks hoarsely.
“That you were my father? I figured it out the same night my parents died.”
The words come out of my mouth without my consent. And to my surprise, my jaw isn’t stiff, and no insects are sneaking underneath my skin.
He smirks.
“You’re just like your mother. A fucking liar.” He leans in closer to my face until he is only inches away from mine. “A fucking pretender. You knew this whole time that you’re the product of your mother and I’s fucking. How did that make you feel then?”
I chuckle underneath my breath. “Horrible. Not because you’re an asshole who fucked a married woman, but because whether I like it or not, your blood runs in my veins.”
His cheeks pale, and his eyes narrow.
“You’re just a fucking slut. Just like your mother.” He hisses.
“Yet you loved her so much you couldn’t stand seeing her in the arms of another man. In the arms of your own brother.”
It happens so fast, his palm connects with my numb cheek, striking me so hard that he sends me falling to the ground.
But I feel no pain.
I smile widely as he pulls my chair off the floor and glares at me.
“Choose, slut. Overdose or three gunshots.”
Thick, green veins pop in his neck. He’s fucking angry. And I’m enjoying this more than I thought I would.
“Whatever you want, Father.”
He points the gun to my leg.
“And to think you were my favorite human being when I was a child,” I say mockingly.
“Shut the fuck up.” He bites out.
The anger morphing his wrinkly face is proof enough that I’m winning this. At least, I’ll die a winner.
“Goodbye, bitch.”
I look behind him and see Lydia leaning against the wall. Her hair is like spun gold, her face is angelic, but the look in her eyes is sinful. I’m happy that she came to visit me as I’m being tortured and killed. She deserves to watch her killer murdered right before her eyes.
“Forgive me.”
My own voice echoes in my head as my jaw turns stiff and hard again. I don’t think the words come out but she nods her approval, and my spirit soars.
She heard me, and that’s all that matters.
“Drop the fucking gun, Leonardo.” Maksim’s voice echoes in the room.
I struggle to turn my head and see his face for the last time in my life. Even though I know that he’s only a figment of my own imagination.
The blackness takes over my vision, but his voice continues to resound in the room, along with the
loud noises of guns being fired.
If it’s really him, then he’s too late.
Because even if he succeeds in saving me from my uncle, he will never be able to save me from myself.
Maksim
The woman in my arms is unrecognizable. Her hair is tangled, her body is weak and weighs barely anything. She lost so much weight that if I was to see her in the street, I’d barely recognize who she is.
Walking away from the crime scene my men and I had just caused, I recall the conversation she had with her father, minutes before I blew his brains out with my gun.
Leonardo is dead. I shot him six times.
The intensity of my actions hasn’t hit me yet. For years I had fantasied about killing him. I wanted to torture him before ending his life. Shooting him was a light sentence. But I couldn’t hold myself once I saw her tied to the chair. She fucking saw me, but her eyes remained expressionless and soulless. She’s not the woman I know. The fiery ache in her eyes died. They stripped her down to her core. Destroyed the last sparkle in her eyes and turned her into a cold woman.
Walking out of the house and into the early morning sunrise, I look down at her sleeping in my arms. The golden rays of sunshine give her grimy hair a beautiful golden color.
Leaning forward, I place a soft kiss on her forehead. Her body is so delicate that when I place her in the back of the car, I take my time doing it because I don’t want to hurt her. I’m afraid the fragility of her body is going to make her healing process even harder.
Sliding beside her in the back seat, I order my driver to take us home. Leaving Aleksandr and Mikhail cleaning up the mess we made. Fortunately for us, nobody was hurt. My men destroyed every single guard that rushed toward us when they heard gunshots being fired.
Leaning my head against the soft material of the head support, I stare at the bruises on her face, the cuts on her arms, and the welts on her legs. My throat clenches as sorrow shreds my insides. Was I too late? Are we going to be able to move on from the past?
His To Keep: Beasts In The Dark (Book 2) Page 7