Beyond Redemption (Marked Series Book 2)

by Jesse Lorenzo

  “Oh, you have no idea how close you’ve hit the mark, Angel.” He paused to allow his onyx eyes to rove over her curvaceous figure one more time before switching tactics. Softening his voice as best he could, Giddeon relaxed his stance. “Is there any way we can see that girl today? Talk to her?”

  Eva shook her head. “You can’t talk to someone if they can’t talk.” She pulled a card out of her pocket. “Here’s my card with all the appropriate numbers to reach me. You can call every day at those hours listed on the back. Call with questions, concerns, or updates. I will let you know when she wakes, okay.”

  Eva stretched her arm over, handing the cop the card. He was obviously the one in charge, but Giddeon snatched it out of her hand. Unease crept up inside her as she watched the dark man intimately stroke the proffered card lovingly with his fingers. The attention he gave the item made her stomach churn. He outlined all the words and numbers before putting it in his back pocket.

  The cop walked closer to her, eyeing Giddeon suspiciously before bringing his eyes back to her. “Thank you, Eva. I will check on her daily. Umm… What happened to her? Vicky, I mean?” His concern had her retracting her claws she previously unleashed, softening up a fraction.

  “Vicky was attacked in her car, outside the hospital parking lot. She was beaten pretty badly. By the time help arrived, she was unconscious and non-responsive. She slipped into a coma soon after.” Eva looked directly in the cop’s eyes and let him have it. “It was the night she went out to meet you. The police on scene said it was a robbery. Her canvas bag was missing, as well as several other items from her car.

  Dominick’s eyes narrowed into slits, then widened as something dawned on him. He let out a deep sorrowful sigh, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

  Eva continued. “Vicky had told me that night that she was meeting up with a detective for dinner, to give information on a missing girl that had stayed here.” Eva could tell right then and there that this was the very same detective. The sorrowful guilt displayed on his face made that quite clear.

  “I never meant for her to get hurt. Thank you again, Eva. We’ll stop by again later to check up on her. I’m Detective Dominick Antonelli, by the way.”

  They finally shook hands, and he briefly laid a grief-stricken hand on her shoulder, before turning on his heel and walking out the door. “Goodbye, Detective.”

  Giddeon had a fleeting bout of jealous possessiveness the moment the detective touched her, envious that he hadn’t. Huh, boys, she thought.

  “Oh, and Angel…”

  Eva risked a glance over at Giddeon, annoyed that he still insisted on calling her that. “What is it?”

  His eyes warmed over a fraction, almost materializing as dark chocolate pools. “I’m sorry about your friend.” Eva nodded her reply as he followed Dominick out the doors.

  Giddeon was on her mind the rest of the day. Something about his eyes called out to her. They were both forlorn and malicious. Her confused feelings warred within her. On the one hand, Eva hoped she’d never encounter them again. On the other, she prayed she would get the chance to once again feel them as they bore deep into hers.

  One thing was certain; she couldn’t wait to see him again. And that is why she had to stay away from that man. Giddeon was trouble.

  “Please, God. Please take me, too. Don’t leave me here... Don’t leave me all alone. I want to be with my mommy and daddy… I’m scared.” The boy wasn’t sure how long it’d been. He’d been lying there beside his parents for a long time, unwilling to leave their side and not knowing what else to do.

  The sun had risen high in the sky when it happened, and like a broken movie stuck on pause, there he stood. Too scared to move, daylight soon disappeared, leaving him frozen and petrified in the growing darkness… just as his parents were. Shock had kept him motionless all night, unable to process the horror he’d witnessed.

  The sun had risen hours ago, bringing the lost boy out of his stupor. The warm glow of the summer rays shone through the window and onto his frozen face, awakening him out of one nightmare and throwing him into a new kind of hell. The heat coming in signaled that it was around lunch time. When his young consciousness switched back on, he was finally able to move. He’d dropped down beside them, willing his stiffened limbs to move, and reached out a trembling hand to shake them softly. “Mommy, wake up. They’re gone now.”

  Desperately needing the comfort, the little boy struggled to get her unmoving form to hug him back. But, her arm wouldn’t budge. She was unnaturally hard, like the sitting stone in the backyard… and unnaturally cold. Not even his favorite Ironman blankie would warm her. His little arms draped over her, shivering as he nestled in closer to the unfeeling object, trying his best to cover her.

  She smelled bad. The putrid stench drifted with the breeze across his face. The overwhelming power of the decaying flesh made his eyes and nose sting as painful tears pricked his dry eyes. But he didn’t care, nuzzling into his mother’s ungiving arms with the eagerness of a desperate child. He’d have done anything to get them to wake up, to come back to him… to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. That he was safe.

  He tried to pull her resisting body tighter. “Why won’t she hug me back?” His fear grew as time ticked by, sitting all alone in this terrifyingly quiet house. Hot tears rolled down his paling cheeks. “I want to be where you are. I want to be in heaven with you, Mommy and Daddy.” The little boy shivered against the frigid body beside him. “I don’t want to be here all alone.”

  He jumped when he heard thunderous pounding, banging at the front door. He curled up in a tight ball against his mommy’s cold hard side, trying frantically to hide himself. The shivering little boy held his breath, willing himself to hold still, but his terrified body couldn’t stop shaking. The blanket vibrated with each violent tremor.

  “The monsters are back to hurt me, too.” His voice cracked as he whispered to the iron figure lying next to him. He pulled his blankie up over his head, too afraid to see who was coming. Footsteps echoed through the house as the strangers made their way into the room adjacent to the terrified boy. He sucked in stale air and held his breath, too frightened that he’d make a sound. The footsteps stomped louder as they drew closer… coming straight toward the panicked boy.

  Giddeon clutched the dagger that still lay wrapped in his hands, close to his chest. The closer they approached, the tighter he clenched the dagger. His fingers tingled with numbness from the lack of movement. His erratic heart was thumping much too fast. His chest ached from the punishment. He was distracted by the hammering of his overworked heart as it thudded loud in his ears. Time stood still as the young boy lay motionless, waiting for something to happen. After a while, he realized that he couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore. It had become really quiet.

  Still unsure, he laid perfectly still. Are they gone? He wondered. His little ears rang as he strained them to hear something… to hear anything at all. The silence was deafening. He couldn’t wait any longer, his curiosity getting the better of him. Just one little peak. He had to know if the monsters were gone.

  Bit by bit, he lifted the blankie…

  It was ripped away from the alarmed boy. Too terrified to look, he pinched his eyes shut and screamed at the top of his lungs. And didn’t stop.

  Giddeon woke to the sound of his own screams.

  “Fuck!” He jerked upright, twisting in the blankets of his sweat dampened bed. His sheets were soaked through and sticking to his heated skin. Beads of sweat dripped down his temple, and he struggled to get a grip on his lingering grief, disoriented by the ringing in his ears. Hyperventilating, Giddeon pulled in ragged, painful breaths.

  He could still feel their cold bodies up against his… could still smell the powerful memory of their long dead stench, lingering in his nose. Suffocating from his accelerated heartrate, Giddeon tried to control and steady his panicked breathing, desperate to get the nightmarish images out of his head. Tears that hadn’t been
shed in over a decade were streaming down his ashen face.

  The crippling ache in his chest, the ache reserved for the memory of his parents, was ripped wide open after reliving the hellish nightmare. The loss, the loneliness, and the overwhelming guilt left him painfully raw and hollow inside. He couldn’t handle that kind of sorrow and torment. It was all too much for him. Too many excruciating emotions clawed at him all at once, and he just couldn’t handle it. Giddeon was accustomed to feeling nothing at all. Living a life numb and void was better than living with the gut-wrenching ache that ripped him apart from the inside out every time he caught a glimpse of that sickening nightmare. Some things were better left forgotten.

  Lurching out of his sweat soiled bed, Giddeon staggered lifelessly to the bathroom. Feeling around in the dark, the mournful man found and flicked on the dim light that hovered over the sink. He stared into the streaked mirror at the pathetic reflection that glared hatefully back at him.

  The guilt he still carried deep within after all this time was too much for him to keep bottled up, and he couldn’t bear the weight of it any longer. He should’ve done something then, helped them. He should have tried to fight back. Instead, he just stood there and watched as his parents were butchered. Giddeon lowered his head, disgusted by the worthless man in the mirror exposing him for the coward he knew he truly was inside.

  Deep down, the defeated shell he had become was tired of living like this. Giddeon didn’t want to wander through his meaningless existence anymore. Gripping the sink, he gritted his teeth with punishing pressure. There wasn’t a point to any of it anymore. Everyone would be better off without a piece of shit like him, poisoning everything he touched. He was just a cancer that spread his wickedness, sorrow, and pain onto everyone else. He was weak. He was disgusting.

  It took one fleeting thought: What would my parents think if they saw me now? Witnessed all the vile things I’ve done? Giddeon hung his head in anguish, not able to look at himself any longer. Spotting one of Dominick’s discarded razor blades on the counter, he reached out and picked it up. The beast within him surged to the forefront, urging him on. The burning, tingling need crawled across his skin like a thousand spiders.

  Deprived of any rational thinking, his fingers skillfully dismantled the razor. Without a moment’s pause or hesitation, Giddeon dragged the sharp edge of his salvation along the inside of his already marked up arm. It sank deep into his sweaty flesh, and the blessed sting thankfully brought an exultant calm over him. The sudden rush of euphoria flooded is system, erased his self-hate, all of his guilt, and thawed his cold heart enough so that he finally felt... human again. The gratifying ache distracted him from his soul crushing reality.

  But, that sensation was short lived. The pleasure gradually ebbed away, bringing with it the emotionally crippling sorrow he tried so hard to drown out.

  Unsatisfied with his brief reprieve from reality, Giddeon pressed harder the second time. It elicited a recharging sting that jump-started his dead nerves, awakening all of his senses. A throaty groan ripped from his trembling lips. Still teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain, he dug deeper still. His arm burned as if it’d been set on fire as the blissfully excruciating pain traveled down his limb. He reveled in each new shockwave of sensation, like an addict experiencing his first high. Unleashing a moan of ecstasy, the sick man plunged the blade in farther, flaying his willing flesh wide open. He glanced down at himself when the sound of trickling made its way into his consciousness, and noticed for the first time the dark wet surface and his wet sticky fingers.

  “WHAT THE FUCK!” Dominick screamed in abhorrence as he rushed in the small bathroom, turning on the main light switch. Giddeon blinked rapidly as the brilliant light stole away his sight. The moment his eyes adjusted, he cast them down to where Dominick stared on in horror. Awestruck at the scene laid out before him, he grasped the extent of the damage he’d caused. The sink and floor were covered in blood… his blood. It poured down his arm and into a dark puddle that collected around his feet.

  Shit.

  “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Dominick sprinted out the door, returning a split second later with a thick, navy blue towel. He wrapped Giddeon’s shredded arm and applied pressure. Dominick looked all over him with that look, the look everyone gave when he was caught self-harming.

  Great. I fucked up… big-time, Giddeon thought to himself as Dominick worked on him. He was going to fuck up his one and only shot at finishing his search… his need for justice and revenge, destroyed by his moment of weakness. Giddeon was going to have to stop being a depressing pussy long enough to get his shit together, focus, and man-up.

  Shaking his head at him, Dominick didn’t look pissed; he looked concerned for a fuck-up like him. Weird. The detective’s face was ashen gray in color. Giddeon really must’ve scared the shit out of him.

  “I’m… I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Giddeon refrained from saying more. He couldn’t promise him that. It just wasn’t true. “Not while you let me stay here,” he quickly amended.

  Dominick’s voice softened its previous harshness. “Giddeon…”

  But the defeated man just shook his head in warning. “Don’t, Detective.”

  Dominick glared at him for what seemed like forever, then finally spoke up. “This. Can’t. Happen. This won’t happen. Anymore. You need help. This…” He motioned with his hand at the disturbing scene around them, painted in Giddeon’s blood. “This isn’t normal. If you’re staying here, and want my help with your parents’ case, you’ll get some help. Do you understand what I’m telling you? I don’t care if it’s anger management, addiction, or all of the above. You will go. No exceptions. And you start tomorrow.”

  Giddeon looked at Dominick, broken, defeated, and utterly wrecked, then nodded his reluctant agreement. After all, he had no other choice. It was very obvious that now was not his time to go. Once again, Giddeon had to refocus his goal and his priorities. His parents. Justice. Revenge.

  Eva’s face drifted into his mind. She was a straight-to-the-point, bold, no nonsense, and crass woman. His golden Angel had absolutely no fear of him whatsoever. He thought back to the way her eyes roved over him, looking at him the way no woman had ever dared. The intensity of it cracked open a hairline space in his black, lifeless heart.

  He would go see her tomorrow. She did say she was an addiction counsellor, and Giddeon definitely had plenty of addictions. For the first time in a very long time, he had something to look forward to that had nothing to do with hurting himself… or someone else. He wasn’t sure what to think about that. He’d been numb for so long; there was safety in that… control.

  If Giddeon allowed himself to feel again, it’d leave him weak. Vulnerable. That was dangerous. Snapping back to the depressing reality he was in, he finally spoke up. “So, patch me up, Detective. Looks like I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

  Dominick was already cleaning up the tiled floor. “You’re a stupid asshole… you know that, right? I should take you to the hospital, but I know you’d fight me the whole way. And if they admitted you, we’d never get Dalton… or the men who killed your parents. Instead, you’d get a one-way ticket to the nuthouse. I’m acting purely on my selfish need to get the bigger asshole, so if you could just reign in the crazy while we are working, that’d be great.”

  “I hear you. I’ll go tomorrow and talk about my feelings and shit. Whatever it takes. I’ve got to finish this. It’s time they get peace. It’s time we all got some peace.”

  Portree Harbor,

  Isle of Skye,

  Scotland

  “Honestly, Behr, you don’t have to stay here to clean. I can handle this mess. I’ve done renovation projects dozens of times. I’m a big, tough girl. I got this.” Ellora flexed her muscles, playing around, trying to prove her point. “Besides, Gavin’s going to kill you if you take any more days off work.”

  Behr continued to gather up all the broken glass and debris, shaking his head in di
sagreement. “It’s the least I can do, love. If it weren’t for my explosive anger, and my less than graceful entrance, this place wouldnae nearly be as trashed as it is now.” Ellora laughed as he finished his statement.

  “And the understatement of the year award goes to… the Incredible Hulk!” Giggling, she looked over at Behr’s face as she mocked him bursting through the windows and crouching down on the littered ground, striking a manly pose. Behr dropped what he was doing and stalked over to his raven-haired beauty. Wrapping his large, muscular arms around her waist from behind, he tugged her into him and whispered in her ear. “Helping clean up the mess I left behind is the least I can do… It’s what I should be doing, love. Gavin and everyone else is behind you one-hundred percent. They all want to help you see this through.”

  Ellora turned into his solid body. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer and insisted half-heartedly, “Really, Behr, you can go… I got this.” She meant what she said, but she still didn’t want him to go. She could melt into the warmth of his body and stay that way all day. But, that was exactly the problem. Whenever he left, it was as though Behr took a big piece of her with him. When he did, she experienced an overwhelming emptiness in the pit of her stomach that ached until they found their way back to each other. She suffered actual pain when they were separated.

  Nibbling her way up the side of his thick tanned neck, Ellora made it to his earlobe and softly sucked on the tender skin. She was rewarded with exactly the response she was expecting… A deep rumbling groan vibrated out of his massive chest.

  “Aaaaah, Ellora. You are driving me mad, woman. You donnae really want me to leave, do ya, love?” Ellora shook her head, rubbing her face slowly against his neck as she did. Cradling his face in her hands, she pressed her lips to his fervently.