“What is this?” she questions, her eyes quickly skimming the paper.
“It a legally binding document that says you are releasing all copies of that video over to me. If any such video should surface after you receive this money, I will sue you for every penny you make off of it and what I paid you. When I’m done with you won’t even be able to afford this motel room.”
She smiles. That empty smile I memorized years ago. “Seems you have your father’s business sense.” She grabs a pen from the nightstand and scribbles her signature on the document. That was easy, I was sure she’d fight me about signing that document. She reaches into her bag and throws a couple DVDs and a flash drive on the bed.
I hand her the case, quickly gather the items on the bed, and the document before placing them into my purse. I need to get out of this place before this creepy feeling I have causes me to have a panic attack. When I turn around Elaina is closing the case with a huge smile on her face. This one is not empty. This smile is joyful, maybe even euphoric.
“You know something,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob. “I searched for you. I used most of the measly settlement I got in the divorce paying detectives. I gave that man the best years of my life and he left me with a few thousand dollars and dropped millions into your lap.” She throws her head back and lets out a vile laugh that causes chills to run up my spine.
“Daddy’s little princess, his little beautiful angel gets everything, and I get the table scraps. Ten years I’ve waited for this day and now that it’s here, I almost feel bad for you.”
A door behind me opens, a nauseous feeling takes over, and I hunch over clutching my stomach in panic. I can’t turn around because then it will be too real, he’ll be real.
“Please Elaina, you’re my mother.” I plead with her.
“Fuck being your mother. Damon took care of me all these years while you ran around with my money. The only payment he wants for all that is you. I can never understand why, but he can have you.” She opens the door and I step forward in an effort to make a break out of the room, but a large hand latches on to my arm and pulls me back, as I watch Elaina walk out the room and pull the door shut.
I clench my eyes shut as he spins me to face him. “Look at me.” His voice is eerily calm, but I know if I defy him I will pay. I open them. The fear runs deep into my soul when I look into those eyes. My mind, body, and soul remember his face. The beautiful traitor who posed as a friend in order to destroy me.
He’s a man now, bigger and more intimidating than he was before. He smirks at me running a finger down my cheek. I flinch from the contact but try to stay frozen. Any sign of rejection from me will only anger him. His hand slides behind my head and his hold tightens on the back of my neck. His face inches closer to mine, and I fight the urge to shut my eyes. His smell is familiar, my stomach revolts from the aroma. I swallow the bile that rises in my throat, and take shallow breaths to calm my rapidly pumping heart.
“I missed you sweetheart.” His lips are so close to mine the words vibrate against my lips. “Did you miss me?”
Oh god, I’m not going to survive this. I know immediately that even if I do survive this, if he takes me then leaves me alive, whatever is left of my soul will die here in this room. I nod my head to his question and my nose brushes against his.
One second I’m looking into dark eyes, the next, pain explodes in my head as his fist connects with my face. I tumble to the floor, clutching my busted lip, and trying to pull myself up. The last time Damon had me down on the ground he broke my ribs. I know I need to get up quickly, but before I can get up, he yanks me up from the floor by my shirt. He’s breathing heavily, nostrils flaring with a demented look in his eyes.
“You fucking liar. You think I didn’t see you in that magazine with that man. Displaying yourself like the little slut you are.” He lets go of my shirt and I stumble a few steps until my back hits the wall. He’s pacing in front of me, pulling at his hair. When he finally stops, I see tears streaming down his face, and that scares the shit out of me. He reaches out and touches my bruised face.
“Why do you always make me hurt you?” He cups my face and kisses the bruise softly. I begin to tremble because my body is in panic mode. He’s deranged and that’s a lot more dangerous than angry. “Can’t you see that I just want to love you?” He presses his lips against mine and I gasp from the pain. He slips his tongue in and I can’t hold it back anymore, I throw up all over him. He steps back looking at the mess I made on him, reaches down and pulls off the soaked shirt. I slide down the wall, covering my face, and do something I haven’t done since I was a little girl.
I pray.
God, I’ve never asked you for a favor ever, and I know I don’t deserve it, but please can you spare me this time?
“Do I make you sick?” His voice is hushed. “As sick as you make me when I have to think about you fucking that man?”
I don’t look at him, but I feel his hand grip my hair and he drags me behind him. Tears spring to my eyes from the painful sting. When we get to the bed he pulls me up in front of him. “Take it off.”
I’ve heard those three words so many times, my mind is almost programmed to obey his command. Ten years ago I would have stripped and laid my soul bare for him to torture, but I’m not that Isabella anymore. Whatever he takes from me now will be a fight to the death. He stares at me and nods his head in faux acceptance of me not doing his bidding.
“You’ll have to kill me first,” I say glaring at him.
“Why would I kill you?” He tangles his hand in my hair and pulls my head at an angle towards him. “I need you alive. I want to hear you screaming my name when I fuck you. Do you remember how good it was, how I trained that sexy body of yours to come for me?”
I'm going to be sick again. I try to concentrate on the pain instead. If I concentrate on the pain in my face and head I can ignore the need to vomit. He pushes me back onto the bed but I bounce back up, if he gets me on my back on that bed I’ll have lost.
I’m tired of feeling helpless.
Hopeless.
I throw my arm out and my fist lands on his lip. His head turns a small fraction from the impact, but then he smiles, and licks the blood that pebbles beside his lip. He reaches out and tears my shirt open, and I counter by kicking him in the shin. When I try to kick him again, his big body slams into mine as he picks me up by the waist, and throws me on the bed. He’s on top of me before I can scramble off, looking down at me victoriously before leaning down to whisper into my ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you hard. I know you like it that way.”
He has won and we both know it.
He’s going to finish me.
Tears of acceptance pour down my face into my ears and hair. Thoughts of Liam cross my mind and I wonder how he’s going to handle this loss so soon after the loss of his mother. Damon pulls on my pants and I reach out and begin to hit him anywhere I can reach until he gets frustrated, and pins my hands against the mattress. My body convulses and squirms in an attempt to throw him off. He’s smacks me viciously across the face, but I don’t care, I continue to struggle. If I don’t succeed in stopping him, maybe I can get him angry enough to kill me first.
A fist connects with my side, then another, and I swear I hear my ribs snap. The pain causes my attack to halt as I begin coughing and holding on to my side. I hear the clink of his belt and turn my face. I can’t watch. My body is limp with pain and tears clog my throat to the point of suffocation. As I begin to close my eyes, hoping my mind will shut down if I can't see what he’s doing, my eyes fall on my purse at the edge of the bed. Maybe miracles do exist. I reach out and slip my hand into the open bag. One glance at Damon, and I realize he’s too busy working his underwear down his hips to notice my hand. He looks at me with a wicked smile as his hand strokes himself.
I shoot up to a sitting position, my hand driving forward with unexpected force. The cool metal in my hand pierces his neck and his eyes widen in shock. The r
eality of what I just did hits me instantly and I pull the knife back out in some sort of attempt to take back what I did, but it only makes it worse.
Blood.
So much blood.
It spews over me as his heavy body collapses on top of me. My piercing scream echoes throughout the room. I push against his heavy chest frantically. His final breaths are gasped into my ear as warm liquid drips onto my face. I push and shove at his chest until I manage to get him partially off of my body, then I squirm from under him, and bound to the furthest corner of the room.
Everything blurs and I feel like I’m suffocating. I’m panicking and I can’t stop it with even breaths this time. The pain from my ribs radiates to my stomach in a series of sharp piercing pangs. I crouch in the corner and cover my face with my hands. The image of my pocket knife in his neck won’t go away even with my eyes shut. It feels like my heart is being squeezed and I wonder if this isn’t a heart attack, this extreme pain in my heart. Darkness surrounds me and I welcome it as a savior from the overwhelming pain.
Chapter 16
Liam
The shrill sound of my cell phone yanks me out of a deep sleep. I jerk into an upright position, my heart pumping rapidly, and a dreadful feeling coming over me. I immediately reach out next to me for Ella, but find the sheets are empty and cold. My eyes begin to adjust to the bright room just as my phone rings again. I snatch it off the night stand and look at the display.
Brody.
He should know where Ella is.
“Where is she?” I answer in lieu of a greeting.
“I followed her to Boca. When she returned, she stopped at a motel. She’s only been in there a few minutes. Do you want me to go check it out?”
“No,” I say, jumping out of bed. I pull on a pair of sweats and grab a shirt before sprinting out the door. “Send me the address. How far are you from me?”
“About ten minutes…wait…a woman just stepped out. She’s carrying the case I saw Ms. Moss enter with.”
“Listen, I’m on my way down the elevator. Follow that woman, I need to know what’s in that case. I’ll be there to see what Ella is up to in a few.”
“Will do, Mr. Maddox.”
I stuff my phone into my pocket and pull my t-shirt over my head before starting the car. The address of the motel appears on my phone and more questions arise. Why would Ella be at a rundown Motor Lodge? I can’t imagine she would end up there if she was having an affair. And what’s with the woman and a briefcase? The questions and mysteries surrounding this woman are endless. Just when I thought she let me in, there are more skeletons in her oversized closet.
I practically run every light and break every speed limit because I need to get there before she decides to take off. The wheels of my tires screech as I turn the car into the motel’s lot. The room number Brody gave me is in a rear building facing away from the road. I park next to her car, relieved she’s still here and I can maybe get some answers if I confront her here. The sound of a piercing scream fills the air as I open the car door. Fear grips my heart like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and I bolt up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I turn the knob of the room number Brody sent me. It’s locked so I step back and kick at the door. By the third time the lock gives and the door flies open, then almost swings shut from the force. I step in and my eyes immediately land on Ella’s crumpled form on the floor. The pain in my gut causes me to double over and I fall to my knees, crawling towards her scared that what I’m seeing is real.
She’s covered in blood, her body lifeless on the floor. I pull her body into my arms, searching for the source of the blood. I scan every inch of her blood-stained skin and can’t find a single cut. Her face is swollen and her ribs are turning an angry purple color. Then I notice her shallow breathing and relief surges through me. I dial Nine-One-One. I pull her shirt closed over her body and rest my head against her forehead, caressing her hair.
“Wake up, baby,” I whisper into her ear. Any response would abate the terror gripping me. It suddenly occurs to me that she couldn’t have been in here alone. My head snaps up and I scan the room quickly, realizing whoever did this has to still be here. The bathroom door is ajar and I wonder if someone is hiding in there. I gently lie Ella down and cautiously enter the bathroom. My hands clench, ready to demolish the person who did this to her, but the bathroom is empty. I pull the shower curtains open and find no one. I step back into the room and quickly retreat in shock.
He’s dead.
I don’t know how I missed the body on the bed when I stormed in the room, maybe because the bed is in the far corner, but with the amount of blood covering the sheets, there is no possible way for him to be alive. As I step closer I notice the pocket knife I gave Ella still lying next to him on the bed. Had she not killed him I would have squeezed the life out his body with my bare hands. As glad as I am that this guy is dead, I'm not foolish enough to think this will not take its toll on her already fragile mental state.
The sounds of sirens ring in the distance and moments later paramedics and police officers fill the room. Everything passes in a whirl of activity.
Ella is rushed off and before I can join her, I’m questioned endlessly about details I cannot provide. When I get to the hospital I have to sit in the waiting room for hours with no real news of her condition. Too restless to sit and wait I take a walk and try to clear the images I saw in that room. What I felt was beyond fear. Her pain was my pain and I felt it radiate through my soul as I clung to her lifeless body on that floor. When I return to the hospital I’m directed to Ella’s room. She's awake and smiles weakly at me as I enter the room.
“Hey.” Her voice is hoarse.
“How are you feeling?” I sit on the edge of the bed caressing her neck and shoulders. I need to feel her warm skin under my hand, feel her pulse, strong and steady under my fingertips.
“I’m fine, Liam.” Her tone tells me she doesn’t want me to worry, but how can I not? I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I should’ve told Brody to kick down the door and find out what was going on inside that room. Had I done that she wouldn’t have to carry this burden the rest of her life.
I caress the back of her neck gently and lay my head against her forehead. She reaches up and caresses my hair trying to relieve me of my worry, but it’s not possible. I look into those captivatingly grey eyes, thankful for the chance to gaze into them again.
“When I saw you on that floor…and all that blood…If you didn’t come out of this alive I would have died along with you. It’s as if your love breathes life into my lungs, it pumps the blood into my heart. Without you I would cease to exist.” My eyes shut and I let her scent surround me, that intoxicating feeling that fills my heart every time I breathe her in. The heady awareness of her love lies heavily on my heart, like an armor protecting me from the loneliness that used to live in my heart. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
She closes the space between us and tries to kiss me, but I back off. “You’ll hurt yourself.” Her lip is swollen and I don’t want her causing herself unnecessary pain.
“Come back here.” She pulls me in with one arm, visibly flinching from the pain in her ribs. Her intense eyes pull me back in. She’s my only weakness in this world. With one look from her, this powerful man will fall to his knees and do her bidding. I accept it as the strength of my love for her, and it’s not something I’m ashamed of.
Her lips brush against mine. “You’ve saved me in so many ways. I was lost before you, I felt worthless. You changed all that, you loved me and made me feel like I was worthy of love. Damon was my battle to fight.”
A battle I would have fought for her without a second thought.
The door opens behind us, breaking into our moment.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Dr. Knight says, looking away like our intimacy bothers him.
“It’s okay,” I get up and place a kiss on Ella’s head. “I’ll give you some time alone.” No matter h
ow I feel about Cayden, she needs counseling and he’s the only one she’s willing to talk to. I called him four hours ago after the ambulance left with Ella. He was in New York shooting his show. That he got here so quickly speaks volumes about his feelings for her. I step out of the room and call Lillian and Harris. She needs her friends here and I’ll move mountains to give her everything she needs at this point.
Isabella
Cayden stands next to the bed with his hands in his pockets, staring quietly at my bruised face. I’ve never seen him speechless; he’s always prepared to voice his staunch opinions. He takes a deep breath and looks away. I must look worse than I thought.
“I’m alright, Cayden,” I say trying to ease the tension forming on his face.
“No, you’re not. We’ve had enough sessions for me to discern when you’re not okay.” He sits at the edge of the bed and gently pushes my hair back, studying the marks Damon left on me. Even in death he leaves me a reminder of him.
“It was horrible Cayden,” I confess. “I thought I was going to die. I was so scared, and now…I’m glad to be here but I feel guilty too.” I look into his golden eyes and know I can tell him anything. “I took someone’s life, Cayden.”
He nods his head, contemplating my words. “If you hadn’t you’d be in his place.”
“But I don’t know that. Maybe he would’ve let me go. I was just so scared of him touching me again.”
“You have to know he wouldn’t just let you walk off. Unless you were ready to walk off into the sunset with him, you weren’t going to leaving that room alive.”
I do know that. Damon’s temperament was maniacal at the least. He was delusional and his mood swings scared the hell out of me. That man was ten times worse than the man I ran away from ten years ago.
“We’re going to have to work on helping you let go of that guilt you’re carrying.”
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