I give him another look of disgust, but show him no other emotion. “Take me to Enzo,” I say in an emotionless voice.
“I’ll gladly take you anywhere you want, sexy.”
He gestures for me to leave the room. I hear his heavy footsteps following me out and down the hall. By this time, the cleaning crew has left, and there are more security guards standing around in the foyer.
I feel all their eyes burning into my body as Enzo’s right-hand man indicates the direction I should take.
We enter a huge ballroom, and I can hear Enzo’s bellowing laugh the moment I’m inside.
There are many men in here. They range in ages, sizes and what they’re wearing. There are also a lot of young women, around my age—some even younger ‒ dressed very similarly to me, lining the walls. Some are performing explicit sexual acts while others look frightened and huddle together.
This entire scene makes my stomach churn. The women are half, if not a quarter of the age of these men. But these men don’t give a shit that these girls don’t want to be here.
Enzo’s roaring laughter makes me want to strangle him. If I can take him out with me when I die, I will.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, interrupting him talking to other men. Most of whom are shamelessly staring at me.
“Who’s this?” one asks as he sidles up closer to me.
His body is nearly touching mine, but Enzo steps between us. “This one is for me and me alone,” Enzo warns while he shields me from the old guy eyeballing me.
“Oh, come on, Enzo. You’ve never been one to begrudge us a little taste. Is she sweet? I bet she tastes delicious.” He makes my stomach stir with revulsion.
I peer around Enzo’s shoulders and look him straight in the eyes. “I taste so good I’d bring you to your knees. But you’re way too old to handle me.”
Enzo turns and hits me across the face, the men laugh at the slap.
My face is on fire, but I’m not going to allow these monsters to get the better of me. I straighten myself, look past Enzo’s fury and smile at the old guy. “I’d be surprised if you could still get it up without drugs.”
This earns me another slap across the face.
“You shut up. Stop disrespecting my friends.”
With each hit, I get angrier. But then I realize I’m not having visions when Enzo’s hand touches my face.
I breathe in, straighten again, and shake out my hair. “I bet all you have left between your legs is shriveled-up skin.”
And again, I’m hit, this time with a closed fist. A sickening crack echoes in my ears.
A stinging pain shoots ice throughout my body, starting at my nose.
I’m in so much pain, but I don’t care. Tonight, I will die. But I’ll die on my terms, not anyone else’s.
The pain is incredible, agonizing and intense. My eyes water and my throat is closing. My nose is definitely broken. I can already feel my face swelling. I breathe through the pain and lift my shoulders.
“Do you have shares in Viagra?”
A punch, this time to my stomach.
“Damn, this bitch has balls. I want to break her, Enzo. I’ll give you five hundred thousand for her.”
“She’s not for sale,” Enzo yells at the old guy I’m taunting. “And you . . .” He grabs me around the upper arm, dragging me out of the ballroom. But I have no visions. I can’t see anything. We get to the entrance, and he pushes me, making me fall forward to land on my knees. “Stay here until I need you.” He strides back into the ballroom, leaving me alone.
I take a few deep breaths, then push off the floor to stand.
Blood is dripping out of my nose, droplets forming a small puddle on the floor. “Man, that hurts,” I mumble to myself.
I drag my beaten body over to the staircase, and sit on the edge of the bottom step. I’m so tired.
Tired of living, and tired of having this damn gift which is turning out to be nothing but a nightmare. A curse.
When the fog of the pain lifts, I try to understand why I had no visions when Enzo was beating me. Have they left me forever? If so, I’ll go announce it to him right now. Hopefully he’ll put a bullet in my head.
But what if the catastrophic events of losing my parents, and the pain he was inflicting on me, somehow only temporarily stopped the visions?
I need to calm down enough to touch someone and see if I get another vision.
Breathing through my nose is impossible, considering it’s broken, so I close my eyes and take long, languid breaths through my mouth. When the adrenaline has calmed down, and I can feel my heart returning to a normal beat, I know I’m ready to test it.
Opening my eyes, I stand and notice one of the extra security men staring at me. “Are you okay?” he asks.
This intrigues me, because I’m sure they’d all have orders not to touch or talk to me. And he’s not looking at me like he’s a man starving for sex and wanting to consume me. He’s staring at me like he’s genuinely worried.
“I’ll be okay,” I reply and stand from the step.
I pretend to wobble, and it forces him to reach out and grab hold of me. The moment his hands touch my bare skin, I’m in a vision.
He’s sitting on the floor in a family room, and he’s changing the diaper of a little baby. “What’s your mommy been feeding you, champ?” The baby looks at him and tries to eat his toes. “Seriously, kid, you stink.”
I can’t help but smile. Here’s a big tough guy who’s changing a baby’s diaper.
As he wipes the baby, I look around the room. There’s a cabinet near the TV that has a framed photo atop it. It’s a picture of this guy in a tuxedo, with his arms around a woman in white. She’s holding the camera up taking this selfie.
I smile, because this is obviously a wedding photo. It’s clear to me from this picture that there’s so much love and affection between them. How can he be armed and dangerous, working for an ass like Enzo, and then revert back to a family man? But then again, I’ve seen what Jude is capable of and he’s never been angry with me. Actually, he’s always protected me.
As crazy as it sounds, I miss him.
Turning back to look at the guy, he’s sliding a little pair of jeans up the baby’s legs. “You smell so much better, little man. No more of that awful stench.” The baby smiles at him as if he knows what his dad is saying. The man lifts him in his arms and blows a raspberry on the baby’s stomach.
His wife enters the room. Her brows are drawn in and her lips are pressed together. “Your boss is here,” she says as she looks over her shoulder to someone who’s behind her.
Jude follows with a small black briefcase.
“What the . . . ?” And I’m out of the vision.
The guy steps back, and assesses me. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You looked like you were going to fall.”
“Who are you?” I ask, now more concerned than ever. Does Jude know I’m here? Did Dallas get to him? Is she alive? Is she safe?
“I’m no one,” he responds by looking over his shoulder. “The boss wants you to stay here, so stay.” He points to the first step leading up the staircase. “Sit down.” He clenches his jaw in anger, and points again.
But I can tell this is just an act. He’s putting on a show for everyone else who’s here. “Okay,” I respond and back away. When I feel the back of my leg hit the step, I squat down and sit.
He walks away, and I wait. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for, but something is going to happen. I’m more aware of my surroundings now.
Watching, I take particular note of the house, seeing where all the guards are positioned. Who’s on their phone, who’s got their eyes closed, and who I should keep clear of.
I may have my chance to get away from here, to finally escape or die trying.
Breathing deeply, I calm myself and try to gather my strength. I need today to define me. I can’t live a life chained to a man who treats me like a punching bag. I have to try and get away.
I
have to attempt to make a difference.
The music from the ballroom is loud. There’s laughter and talking. I cringe at what could be going on in there. Some of the girls looked so frightened, but some of them looked too high to care.
This isn’t a life worth living. Not being someone’s caged animal.
The guy by the front door is watching something on his phone. He looks completely distracted. Enzo would kill him if he saw him. A couple more men walk toward the ballroom, they’re talking about the girls, and telling each other what they want to do to them.
The hairs on my arms stand. Sick bastards.
But I have to keep my wits about me. I have to stay sane, because if I’m going to get away, I need to focus on me, and not on the disgusting things they’re saying or doing.
Standing, I back away from the staircase, and slowly, carefully make my way toward the door. I have no idea how anything is going to happen. The guy at the door may be watching something on his phone, but he’ll sure as shit see a five-foot-eight, hundred and twenty-pound girl trying to run away. But judging by the lack of food Enzo’s provided me, I dare say I’m a lot less than a hundred and twenty pounds now.
The guy at the door places his phone in his pocket, and straightens his shoulders. He presses a finger to his ear, and nods his head. He’s obviously receiving instructions.
The outside of this place has got to have more security, and the worst part is, I have no idea where the hell I am.
It doesn’t matter, it’s now or never.
“You can do this,” I mutter to myself. “You have to do this.”
I sneak a few steps behind the guy manning the door. My heart beats wildly as my hearing becomes more acute. I can hear so many sounds, but most are relevant to what’s happening in that ballroom. But I do pick up on one sound, a heavy popping coming from just beyond the front door. A few men run toward me, but stop short and aim their guns at the door.
Unsure of what’s happening, I seize the opportunity and prepare to run.
Hiding behind a pillar, I squat down and watch what’s unfolding. Whatever’s about to happen, it’s going to occur through the front door. This is it. My chance. My only chance to run.
I crawl over behind a small table with an ugly bowl housing a goldfish. Ducking down, I stick my head out to see what’s happening. I try to contain my noisy breathing so no one will hear me.
The men are all communicating, giving instructions to each other. The one I touched and had a vision of is behind all the others. He keeps gazing around the room, trying to look for something, or someone. Maybe me.
He can’t see me, but I can see him.
The popping sounds increase in frequency and in duration, coming closer all the time. And now there are loud voices added to the popping sounds coming from the other side of the door.
Clearly something’s going down. I can only assume it’s an attack on Enzo.
It makes sense. The men he has here are all influential people in the underworld. Why not wipe them all out when they’re in the one place together?
A logistical nightmare, though to me, it’s an opportunity to get out. I have nowhere to go, but at least I’d be away from this hellhole.
The men in the foyer inch closer to the door. I try to stay hidden so they don’t see me. But I think, in this moment, they have no idea I’m even here. I’m of no concern to them. They need to protect all the men in the ballroom, who by now, I suspect, know about the danger approaching.
My hands shake from nerves. My anticipation of the next few minutes is ringing with excitement and sheer terror.
Whatever happens, I’ll be free, one way or another.
A giant explosion throws the men closest to the door back. My ears ring from the deafening blast.
Holding my hands over my ears, I let the ringing calm down for a few seconds before I make a run for it. This ringing will make it hard to get my bearings and run in the right direction. I want to get away from the danger, not run into it.
Where will I go?
I’m going to have to start my life over again. I have no money, and no family left. And anyone I’d trust with my secret would be in danger. I refuse to put anyone else in harm’s way.
The adrenalin is pumping hard through my body as I watch what’s unfolding. Men dressed in bullet proof vests and holding machine guns, enter the house, and push past the foyer toward the ballroom.
Gunshots sound continuously. People are being shot, people are yelling, and people are dying.
I push up off the floor with my eyes glued to the front door. Watching, I time my escape.
The ringing in my ears has settled, but the pounding in my head has taken over.
This is it.
Escape or die.
Lines of men come into the house, they’ve all got their guns aimed toward the back of the house, toward the ballroom. None of them have seen me.
When the line dwindles down, I look around the room. There are bodies everywhere. The guy I had a vision of is nowhere to be seen.
I make my run for it. I tear out the front door, jumping over a body laying across the threshold. He’s murmuring and begging for help. But if I stop, I might not make it out alive. And I want to live, if I can.
I hit the pristine white pebbles on the driveway and they tear at the soles of my feet, which protest in pain, but I don’t care. I need to get away. Looking over my shoulder, I’m surprised to see no one is after me.
I thought Enzo would attempt to spirit me away. Maybe he’s dead. I can only wish.
I keep running, but have no clear idea where I’m going. I know I have to get away.
A black town car rolls to a stop a few hundred feet from me. My heart leaps into my throat and I stop running. My feet won’t make it any further. They refuse to move.
Crap, someone’s seen me. Is it Enzo? Did he get away? Is he here to collect his prize?
The back door opens, and I desperately look for an escape route. Even I know I can’t outrun a bullet.
I start to run backward across the lawn, unable to think of the consequences of being taken again. I have to die. I can’t go back into captivity.
“Alexa!” The voice is familiar. It’s someone I know.
Jude.
Turning, I see him step toward me. His hands are up in surrender as he steps closer.
He’s here.
“Alexa,” he says in a much gentler tone. My feet have a mind of their own, and they take me to him. My heart calms and tears well in my eyes.
When I get to him, he takes in my appearance. Frowning, he steps back toward the car, leans in, and emerges seconds later with his coat. He walks toward me, and drapes the coat around my shoulders, sheltering me.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I return my gaze to the ground.
“Alexa.” He clears his throat. “Show me your face.” I don’t want him to see me like this. A tear falls from my eyes and a sob escapes my lips. I look up at him, showing him all my bruises. “Who did this to you?” He points toward my face.
“Enzo . . .”
I don’t say another word. I don’t need to. He steps closer, engulfs me in his arms, smashing me to his body. Our skin isn’t touching, so I don’t get a vision from him. Guilt floods me. Every part of me wants to get away from all this shit, all these bastards who think they can own me. But a small part of me likes it in his arms. For the first time in a long time, I feel protected.
“You’re safe now,” he mumbles. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
“He killed my parents,” I sob into his chest.
“I know. I was too late. He killed my men who were protecting your parents.”
His hands slide up my shoulders and lace into my hair. He kisses my forehead, and for a split second I’m lost in the comfort of Jude and his arms before being thrown into a vision.
“You went after the wrong person, my friend,” Jude says to Enzo who’s handcuffed to a chair. Jude smashes him in the mouth. Enzo’s head bruta
lly jerks to the side, before he turns his head forward. His mouth is bloody, and he spits out a couple of teeth.
“You’re declaring war over a stupid bitch?” Enzo smirks.
Jude steps back and smiles at Enzo. “I’m not talking about Alexa. You went after her parents.”
Enzo’s smirk quickly fades. “They were collateral damage. She needed to be taught a lesson. You’d do the same thing,” he says dismissively.
Jude turns to one of his men and gives him a small nod. The guy hands Jude a gun that he takes and aims at Enzo’s head.
“Now you’re collateral damage.”
Before I see anything, I’m torn away from the vision. “Get her to the car,” Jude says to one of his men. “Get her in there, and look after her. Anything happens to her, and you die.” The guy steps forward and tries to guide me toward the car. I run after Jude and grab hold of his arm. “What?” he asks angrily before turning to see it’s me and not one of his men. “What do you need, Alexa?” he asks in a much softer tone.
I stand looking at him, not sure what it is I want to say. I should tell him to not kill Enzo, but I want Enzo to stop breathing. “I . . .” My heart beats crazily as tears threaten again. A whirlpool of emotions bounce around inside me. I know he’s going to kill Enzo and it’s wrong, and right, and I have no idea how to resolve what’s happening inside my mind.
So much devastation has and will continue to occur because of me.
Jude watches me, but I’m struggling with what I want to say. “It’s okay, Lexi. I’ve got this.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead again. This time, I have no vision.
I don’t know why.
“Take her back to the car, now,” Jude orders.
Without contest, I allow his guy to lead me to the car and have trust in Jude. Trust him enough to know he’ll take care of everything.
Regret soon overwhelms me, and I can’t help my reaction. I should stop Jude before he kills Enzo. But then I know if Jude doesn’t kill him, Enzo will—without hesitation—kill Jude and then me.
As I sit in the back of the car, emotional turmoil surrounds me.
Who did this to me? Someone put this stupid thing inside me, and now people are dying because of it.
The Curse: The Butterfly Effect, Book 2. Page 7