by Dee Garcia
Taking a deep breath, I curled a hand around the brass handle and pulled open the door, padding into the church with my heart hammering in my chest. “Hallelujah” was blasting through hidden speakers, magnifying the already eerie vibe of the entire situation. Much like the outside, there was not one person inside, every pew dusty as though it hadn’t been used in decades. The carpet running down the aisle, burgundy in color, was stained, dirty, and fraying in different spots. Candles were the only source of lighting throughout, a cluster of them sitting at the table on the altar, illuminating the statue of Jesus on the Cross just behind it.
Shuffling forward, I took a better look around the place, wondering where I was supposed to go, or more importantly, where I could find Eden. There was a door on the right by the very front, but I suspected that served as another exit to the parking lot. There was also another door at the back, and I wondered if it led to the back of the property or if it led somewhere else.
We’re about to find out…
I kept on down the aisle, moving cautiously, my eyes peeled for even the slightest movement. As I neared the altar, I felt compelled to signify the cross, and as I did so, I sent a little prayer that all would end well. That’s when I heard it. The bang followed by a deep howl. Both sounded off from behind the very door I’d been en route to.
Fuck.
Bounding up to it, I took the knob in my hand and turned it slowly, my blood roaring through my ears. I made it in as far as my head before the sight that greeted me stopped me dead in my tracks. A man was kneeling on the floor, blood pooling around one of his knees. He was sweating and tears trickled down his cheeks. Eden stood before him with a firearm firmly in her grip, the tip pointed at the bloodied knee.
“Tell the truth, Hozier, or I’ll blow out your other knee. Why did you bomb that school?” she gritted out in a voice I didn’t recognize.
“I already told you… It wasn’t me!” he whined.
“Yes. It. Was. There was no one else with you when you walked into the school. So now I’m going to ask you again. Why did you do it?”
“It wasn’t—”
The second she cocked back the slide and pointed at the opposite knee, he lifted his hands in surrender and scrunched his eyes tightly. “Okay, okay! My daughter was raped there, countless times, by one of her teachers. No one believed her and when she finally told me, and I went down there, the faculty didn’t take me seriously either. Said the teacher in question was a man of God. I took it to the authorities but they found nothing in his home, which in turn made me look crazy for faulting him. So I blew that shit to bits, for getting away with a crime that had hurt my little girl.”
“That’s fucking pathetic,” Eden spat. “You blew up a school, killed dozens and dozens of innocent people, children included, because they didn’t believe you? The smart thing to do would have been to take your case to the board, not build a damn bomb.”
“Why is LeRoux so upset about this? I paid him back. He promised me I’d be free from him once I did.”
“Because his son was in that school. His only child, poof, gone in the blink of an eye, because of you.”
“I didn’t kn-know his son went to that school. I didn’t know he had a s-son at all!” the man stammered.
“That’s not the point!” Eden yelled, her voice echoing in the small room. “Can't you see that what you did was wrong?”
“That school tainted my baby. They needed to be taught a lesson!”
What in the actual fuck?
At that point, even my head flew back in surprise. Was this man serious? I understood being furious over what happened to his daughter, but to think causing a massacre was the way to teach a lesson? That was insanity.
Eden chuckled, the sound low and dark. “And now, you're going to be taught a lesson. May you rot in hell, Mr. Hozier.”
The first bang sent a bullet to his knee. He howled in excruciating pain, falling over onto the ground in a heap, a stream of crimson pouring out from the wound into the carpet beneath him. The second bang sent a bullet through his head, dead center on his fucking head. My mouth popped up and I felt myself blanch as the light within his eyes burned out and his face froze slack for all eternity. I'd just witnessed someone die. I'd just witnessed someone die at the hands of the woman my heart beat for…
“Xander?” I heard her say suddenly, prompting me to glance up to where she stood.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes wide.
“I-I couldn't get past that nagging feeling like something was going to happen, so I c-came in here.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough,” I admitted, my gaze dropping back down to a dead Mr. Hozier.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eden muttered, holstering her gun at the small of her back. “I’ll explain anything and everything you want, but we need to get out of here, okay?”
I nodded, swallowing down a gallon of bile that shot up my throat.
“Just go back to the car and wait for me. I need to get him outside.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not leaving him in here to rot. He deserves the very ending he forced upon all those people.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Kaboom.” Her hands illustrated the sounds.
My eyes widened again, but nonetheless, I obliged without a word, retreating away from the door on shaky legs. I stumbled my way through the church, the same song reverberating off the walls as when I’d first walked in, breaking goosebumps along my skin. I couldn't get out of there fast enough, my stomach churning so painfully I knew I was going to spew. Bursting through the doors and down the steps, I folded in half the second my feet hit dirt and hurled the contents of my breakfast. Heave after heave it all came up, but it didn't stop there, no. The bile I swallowed down not three minutes ago came burning up my throat with a vengeance.
When there was nothing left, dry heaves racking through my body, I staggered toward the car in a daze. I'd watched her kill him, and I watched him die. Much like Donovan, he deserved it, but holy fuck, I was not mentally prepared for that. I don't think I'd ever be mentally prepared for something like that. And Eden did it all without batting an eyelash. How?
Throwing myself into the car, I flung myself back into the seat, my mind spinning a mile per minute.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…
I felt paralyzed as shock replaced fear, the images of the moment she'd taken his life playing in repetitive loops. I just wanted it to stop, but it wouldn't. It just kept going over and over and over again.
Amidst my inner turmoil, Eden slipped into the driver’s seat and immediately fired up the car. The engine roaring to life in the silence surrounding us.
“Hold on tight,” she said.
We peeled out of the parking lot as quickly as the gravelly road would allow and zoomed up the gates, and as we neared the entrance, Eden began counting down beside me.
“Five…
Four…
Three…
Two…
One…”
Silence, and then...kaboom.
“Please say something,” I said warily, unable to endure the silence any longer.
Both hands strangled the wheel for dear life, my knuckles white from all the strain. Xander hadn't said a word since we climbed into the car and that was nearly thirty minutes ago. My biggest fear was unfolding right before my very eyes and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I had a feeling there was no coming back from it either. He’d known the truth about who I was, but what he’d witnessed in that church was enough to scare anyone away. It wouldn't matter what I said or did, watching me in action likely extinguished every last bit of what he ever felt for me.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he sighed deeply, his eyes never straying from the road ahead. “I don't know what to say, Eden.”
“Anything. Even an ‘I hate you’ would be better than the silence.”
“I
don't hate you. I'm just...processing.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you process?” I asked, swallowing down the abrasive lump in my throat.
Silence drowned the car again for what felt like an eternity before he finally spoke up.
“Answer me this. How?”
“How what?”
He turned his head toward me. “How can you sit there so calmly after what you just did?”
I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the road. “I was trained for this almost my entire life. They’re all bad people, Xander. In one way or another, they deserve it.”
“You truly believe that?”
“Yes, I do. It’s one of the reasons why I couldn’t kill you. You didn’t deserve it, not in the slightest.”
“Had you ever spared anyone before me?”
“No,” I deadpanned.
“Can I ask you something else?”
Nodding, I dropped a gear and stepped on the gas, wanting to get off this godforsaken dirty road. That eerie feeling was still looming over me and I couldn't decide if it was in relation to Xander or not.
“How many people have you killed?”
“I’m, uh”—I glanced at him for a split-second—“I’m not sure you want to know the answer to that.”
“It doesn’t matter if I want to, Eden. I need to know so I can better understand how you blew that man’s knees out, followed by his head, and didn’t even flinch.”
“Not including the work I’ve done for LeRoux,” I paused, “three-hundred and ninety-seven.”
“Three-hundred and—Angel, watch out!” Xander yelled, bracing himself for something I hadn't seen coming.
A second later, a loud crash exploded within the car as we were hit from behind, launching us forward several feet. I tried not to panic, but we were going so fast I couldn't regain control of the car, pumping the brakes and turning the wheel in hopes to set us straight. I couldn’t though, and we began to spin out, the world around us nothing but a blur as we went round and round and round. It felt like we spun around forever until suddenly, the front end rammed into a tree, lurching us to a complete stop, the back of the GranTurismo lifting up and then swiftly dropping us back down. The airbags deployed on impact, striking me right in the face, and rather than blacking out, my vision faded into a white cloud. It was absolutely terrifying. I could hear everything but I couldn’t see a thing. Feeling around myself, I reached out to where Xander was sitting and felt him grab my hand.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“I can’t see,” I blurted out, my chest heaving.
“Just relax, Angel. Take deep breaths. It’s from the airbag.”
I nodded and did as he said, squeezing his hand all the while, my own hand shaking in pure fear. If this is what it was like to go blind, I didn’t wish it on anyone. Slowly but surely, the white haze lifted away and my vision restored to normalcy, giving me my first view of the wreck. Smoke billowed from the hood, the windshield cracked in its entirety. I hadn’t felt it on impact but the front windows, both mine and Xander’s, were shattered, remnants of them scattered around the car, including my lap. The airbag, now deflated, hung from the steering wheel, as did the one on the passenger side. Then I turned my head toward Xander, and thankfully he was in one piece with no serious injuries that I could see, other than a busted lip. Relief washed over me in an instant, but damn was it ever short-lived.
Our doors flew open in tandem and in the blink of an eye, we were being pulled out from the car. I recognized the men hauling Xander toward an SUV to be Richie and Frank, two of Daddy’s biggest guys. He used them for the sole purpose of intimidation and they were often the two who cleaned up after me. Dragging my eyes up the man pulling me in the same direction, I realized he was also one of Daddy’s guys, Miguel. Why were they doing this? How did they know where I… I gasped as the answer dawned on me because it was the only plausible explanation. They'd tracked Xander’s phone. More specifically, Daddy had tracked Xander’s phone. I felt ridiculously foolish for not thinking about this since seeing that report on the news. But fear quickly replaced foolishness when Richie cocked an arm back and thrust his fist right into Xander’s face.
"No!" I howled, jerking away from Miguel in attempt to break free, but his grip was far too strong, even for me.
Frankie was next, clocking Xander with such force his head blew back, droplets of blood sputtering from his nose and mouth.
“No, stop!” I screeched, trying but miserably failing once again to come to his aid. Miguel tightened his grip in tenfold and all I could do was watch them put Xander down, drugging him with a cloth to his mouth until he blacked out in their arms. Tears rolled down my cheeks like two streams of pure agony as my heart cracked right up the middle and exploded into millions of tiny pieces. And then I was next. Miguel smacked the cloth over my face, taking care to cover both my nose and my mouth, and after trying to break free once more, I felt it. Felt the dizzying effects of the chloroform filtering into my body, my limbs growing heavier and my vision growing darker and darker and darker until finally, it consumed me whole.
I groaned, my head pounding in protest as I slowly began to regain consciousness. Prying my eyes open, I tried to lift my head and catch a view of my surroundings, but it was heavier than a rock, another painful throb lancing from one temple to the other as it fell forward, my chin colliding with my chest. I groaned again, the sound echoing off the walls of wherever I was. It was then I felt the shackles around my wrists. They were almost too tight, digging into my skin as I tried to move my arms about.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Royce,” said a deep voice I didn’t recognize.
The sound was an instant wake-up call, allowing me the strength in which to finally lift my head. My gaze landed across the room on a dark-haired man straddling a chair. He was probably about my age, wearing a deep navy-blue suit and a sinister grin that narrowed his dark eyes.
“Who are you?” I asked, taking in the backdrop for this nightmare.
Traditional red brick covered the entirety of the four walls. There were no windows, the only light coming from the single bulb hanging in the center of the room. Behind the man was a wall full of weapons, a personal arsenal filled with blades, firearms, even power tools. There was also a desk shoved just beneath it, but nothing sat atop it except for a half-emptied beer bottle.
“Alessio Scarsi,” he said, promptly grappling attention on him once again.
“You're Alessio?” I eyed him incredulously.
“The one and only. Has my dearest little sister told you all about me while you two were gallivanting through the states?” He chuckled darkly.
I gasped in alarm, my heart sledgehammering in my chest at the mere mention of her name. “Where's Eden?”
Alessio tipped his chin somewhere beside me. Turning my head faster than I should've, another painful strike pulsed through me, forcing my eyes to shut tightly. I grunted through the pain, taking deep breaths in through my nose and blowing them out through my mouth in attempt to alleviate it. Once it subsided, I peeled my eyes open again to find Eden asleep on a makeshift cot. She wasn’t injured, wasn’t shackled to the wall as I was. I let out a relieved sigh and turned back to her brother, anger quickly rising to surface.
“What do you want?” I asked, though I realized a second too late that wasn’t the question to ask the man I’d heard horror stories about.
He chuckled darkly once more and shook his head. “Well, for starters, I’d like you dead, as you were supposed to be quite a while ago. But I’d also like to hear her side of the story before we finish what she failed to do. Let’s wake her, shall we?”
“Leave her alone,” I gritted out, against my better judgement.
“Oh, don’t you worry. Alone, she definitely will be when I drag you outside and toss you in the shredder, along with her car,” he sneered.
I should’ve been afraid, but another threat on my life meant nothing when this man was clearly h
ellbent on hurting his sister, his blood.
“Eden.” He called her name, but she remained as she was. Passed out, likely drugged as I had been.
He tried again, this time shoving at her arm, but to no avail. She was out cold and the image of her, so lifeless and vulnerable, made me fucking sick.
“Eden!” he yelled, shoving her entire body, and after belting her name out one more time, she finally came to, as slowly and groggily as I had.
Groaning in protest, she brought a hand up to her forehead and pried her eyes open, first taking in the ceiling above her before turning her head. The softest gasp escaped her at the sight of her brother looming over her.
“Where’s Xander?” The question was out of her mouth faster than her brother could greet her.
“Jesus fucking Christ, what is it with you two? He’s right there,” he said, his voice dripping venomously as he pointed a finger at me.
Eden followed his arm, her eyes widening in horror when she caught sight of me chained to the wall. Her breath hitched once more and she shot up in a rush, only to stumble forward and land but a few feet away from me. Fearful blue eyes darted to where I sat, tears bubbling to the mascara-stained rims. They rolled down her cheeks no sooner than they'd formed, leaving black streaks in their wake.
“I’m sorry,” she cried out, crawling the rest of the way toward me.
Shaky arms came around my neck, her body shuddering against me as agony ripped through her from the inside out.
“Don’t cry, Angel,” I whispered, dropped my head to the crook of her neck.
It’s the only way I could try to console her since I couldn’t touch her.
“What do you mean, don’t cry? I failed you, X. I fucking failed you!”
“No, you didn’t… Hey, look at me,” I urged her and she eased back ever so slightly, our gazes instantly locking together. “Everything is gonna be alright.”