“Sir, I thought we had decided that she isn’t worth the trouble. We will find you another victim.” Harlan snaps his head looking at me with narrowed eyes before turning back to Alvrez. “A willing one,” he says, his voice hushed. “I don’t think we can tame her. She’s already brought trouble to your door.” He talks about me like I’m a piece of trash that can be disposed of because I’m not playing his game.
“Enough,” Alvrez grumbles. His hand reaches toward me, his fingers skirting over the skin on my shoulder, under my chin, before he clutches it weakly. “I have a fondness of you that I can’t just throw away. You were my first virgin. All my other victims were hookers or whores. But you, you are beautiful and a challenge. But I need to know you will work with me, not against me.” He leans in a little closer, his foul, warm breath against my skin. “No more trying to hurt us.” His voice is low and I feel his chest rumble against my arm as he speaks. “No more trying to run away.”
“Sir, I really don’t think this is a good idea…”
Alvrez roars, “This isn’t your decision to make. You have too much to say about this, I’m starting to think you have a hidden agenda.” His eyes widen as he glares at Harlan, waiting for him to respond.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” he replies, dipping his head to show his submission. He takes a small step backward, clutching his hands together in front of him.
“Gun,” Alvrez demands, letting go of my chin. Harlan quickly responds, digging inside his jacket and pulling out the gun, handing it to him. He places it on the couch beside me, freeing my right hand. My mind whirls like a tornado as I try to work out what the hell is going on here. “I need to know you are going to comply with everything I ask of you. Pick it up.” His eyes dart to the gun and back up at me. I use my free hand to pick up the gun. It isn’t big, just a handgun, yet it feels like a lead weight. I grasp the handle, lifting it ever so slightly, my eyes fixed on him as I await my next instruction. “In your mouth,” he instructs, his hand covering mine and guiding the gun toward my mouth. My lips quiver and I clamp my eyes shut. “Pull the trigger,” he whispers into my ear. I jerk at the unexpected closeness. I shake my head just a little, tears rolling down my cheeks. Begging with him doesn’t work. He wants to kill me, but he wants me to do it.
“Press the motherfucking trigger, Isabelle. Prove you can obey me.”
“I don’t want to die,” I mumble with the tip of the gun still in my mouth, holding it between my teeth.
“Do it,” he coaxes, his hand over mine, his finger linked through the hole, squeezing against the trigger. I clamp my eyes shut, sweat beading over every inch of my skin as the few milliseconds feel like hours. He squeezes the trigger and I jerk as the click of the gun goes off.
Empty.
The fucking gun is empty.
My heart had stopped momentarily awaiting the bullet that would surely sentence me to death, but now it roars back to life.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
I’m alive.
“You have to obey me. Trust me, Isabelle.” Alvrez’s voice hums.
I internally scoff at the ridiculousness of his words. Trust him? How could anyone trust a psychopathic monster? One that fulfills his desires by torturing girls, not just physically, but mentally too. I nod, trying to appease him.
“I still need you to learn.” He pushes himself away from the couch, turning and heading toward the door. “Turn off the lights. Add the sound effects and don’t feed her. I want her begging for me by the time I’m fit and ready to enjoy her again.” His words are just a whisper but I catch every word he says to Harlan. I sigh, trying to steady my breathing which is all over the place.
Harlan nods, walking over and reattaching the restraint to my wrist. “Can’t risk you breaking free again, can we now?” he asks with sarcasm in his tone, a shit-eating grin on his face. The bastard is enjoying this.
“I trusted you,” I whisper, my eyes fixed on him, my chest heaving with every breath I struggle to take in. “Why? Why are you doing this?” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, ignoring my question and making his way over to the corner of the room. I can’t see what he’s doing, but the sudden sound of a woman screaming fills the room. Its ear-piercing and spine chilling. I shudder, my whole body covering in goose bumps, hair standing on end.
“What the hell…”
“Alvrez recorded his victims during the last moments of life. Listen, Isabelle. You will hear them begging to be saved, just like you did. Listen to their screams as he subjects them to long, painful deaths. You escaped that today. You were lucky. And I don’t know why. I have no idea why he’s so fixated with you, what makes you so different from all the others.”
“Arrgghh,” I yell out in frustration. The noises are messing with my head and I can’t bear to listen to it for another second.
“Please, turn it off,” I beg, but it’s no use. He turns his back to me, closing the door. The darkness fills the room once more and I’m left with the sounds of another woman that suffered at the hands of these maniacs. I cry out desperately, the hysteria taking over. “No, no, no no…”
There is no possible escape for me. I’m bound and unable to attempt an escape. The noises weave into the broken parts of my soul and weep in time with the tears trickling down my face.
“Hey,” she says sweetly. I try to clear the haze from my eyes as I drag my gaze to her hand clutching my shoulder. “I hate to wake you, but we are gonna have to make a move soon.” Tara smiles and I let out a deep breath at the thought of the meeting with the Savages. I’m going to them through pure desperation. They are the only ones I can reason with. The chance for them to get their beloved drugs. Well, I get my beloved girl, and that’s worth more than any amount of drugs. I’m under no illusions that I can trust them. They are rotten to the core. They talk about loyalty to their own, yet they know nothing about loyalty. They fuck women like they are born purely for their enjoyment and take whatever they want, recklessly and without fear. The exact reason why I want them on my side.
“Shit,” I grumble, rolling onto my side, dropping my feet to the floor as I try to stretch out my weakened muscles.
“What? Are you okay?” She squats in front of me.
“I’m fine,” I’m quick to dismiss. “Stop being so fucking nice, it’s making me feel nauseous.”
“Fine,” she says with a tut. “Get your lazy ass outta that bed, motherfucker. We have your girl to save.” She stands, turning to make her way out of the room, stopping for a second, looking back over her shoulder at me. She gives me a sarcastic smile, you know, the kind a younger sister might do when annoying the fuck out of you.
“I know,” I retort with widened eyes. Shuffling my feet, I make my way to the closet. Pulling out a shirt, I slide it over my head, catching sight of her name in the mirror. Even in reverse it’s beautiful. Just like her. I take in a huge breath, my nostrils flaring and my chest expanding. I have to remember why I’m doing this. Why I’m fighting for her, again. And without any doubt, I will fight for her until my last breath. That sick bastard is no match for me and I can’t wait to be the one to see him begging with his last breath. I need to be smarter, work harder to make sure they all die. I won’t be happy until the three people responsible are nothing more than rotting corpses. Walking back over to the table beside the bed, I grab my handgun, checking the barrel. I close it and shove it inside my jeans. I bend down pulling out the metal case, retrieving another handgun and two knives. Lifting the leg of my jeans, I strap the holder around my ankle. Dropping the leg of my jeans, I make my way out of the room.
“Tara,” I call out for her as I make my way down the stairs. “You need to take these.” Holding out the gun and knife, she glances down and then back up to meet my eyes.
“No way,” she gasps, her hand resting against her chest. “Why… what… I have no idea what to do with them.”
“It’s protection,” I say, pushing them a little closer, urging her to take them
from me.
“What, like hold them for you?”
“No,” I snap harshly. “Listen, if you are adamant you are coming along then you need to be prepared and armed.”
“I have no idea how to use a gun…”
“Trust me,” I cut her off, “if you need to, you’ll figure it out.”
“But I’m wearing a dress,” she says twirling on the spot as the skirt lifts and shows off her slim legs. “I thought the old man might be easily persuaded in this little number.”
“Fuck, Tara, You’re playing with fire. What if the old man doesn’t take no for an answer, huh? What if he takes you to be one of his little whores? It’s a fight I won’t be able to win.”
“I thought we agreed?”
“NO, we didn’t agree. You suggested and wouldn’t let it drop, so I gave in. But, and this is a big but, I won’t have your life in danger. Go change.” I stub my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the stairs. “There are a few things you left, bagged up in the spare room. I suggest you find something that will conceal your weapons.”
“Okay, conceal weapons but still look sexy, I can do that.” She winks, speeding past me and all I can hear is the thud of her feet against the steps. I make my way over to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of Tylenol tablets. I let two drop out onto my hand and grabbing a soda from the fridge, I quickly gulp down the tablets.
“Better?” she asks, drawing my attention to her new outfit. I nod as I look at her wearing jeans and some sort of floaty top that has her tits all on show.
“Let’s go,” I instruct with a nod. “Oh, and you’re driving.”
“Really?” she asks with a subtle tilt of her head. “I’m the chauffeur now, am I?”
“You bet,” I say with the slightest of smiles.
“Stop the fucking press,” she says with one hand against my chest and the other held up in the air. “Is Braxton actually smiling? Can this really be true?”
I give her the bird and make my way out of the door grabbing the new key fob. I head over to my car that barely gets any use at all. I’ve always favored the motorcycle, but right now, this will have to do. I unlock the door, slowly sliding myself into the passenger seat. I look down at the complicated fucking key fob, trying to work out what half of these buttons do. I press the buttons, finally working out which one opens the gates. They open remotely and I sit impatiently waiting for Tara. God, I can’t believe I’m allowing this to happen. But the fact of the matter is this; I need her. I need some leverage, and she offered. She wants to help, so who am I to turn that kind of help down?
“Ready?” she sings, swinging her legs inside the car, dropping into the seat. She positions the seat closer to the wheel and I’m sure her face will be touching the windshield if she gets any closer. “Let’s do this.” She smiles widely reaching over her shoulder for the seat belt.
We set off making our way the short distance to the Savage residence. It’s out in the sticks and is fucking huge. I’ve only been there a handful of times. A handful too many. These guys are hard to handle, and I know negotiating with them is going to be hard work.
We pull up outside the gates. Tara lowers the window, reaching out and pressing the buzzer.
“Hello,” the voice booms over the receiver.
“It’s Brax,” I inform. The line goes dead and the gates slowly start to open.
“Chatty bunch?” Tara comments with a wiggle of her brows.
“Not exactly,” I say with a scoff. We slowly drive through the gates, parking up outside the house.
“Jeez,” Tara says with an exaggerated breath. “This place could do with a touch of paint.” Her eyes roll, and I can’t stifle the laugh bubbling to the surface. Then, instantly, a wave of guilt washes over me. I shouldn’t be laughing. Somehow, being happy without Izzy just feels wrong.
“It’s a fucking shit hole. Always has been. I’m not sure keeping a tidy house is at the top of their list of priorities.”
“I guess not,” she says with a loose shrug of her shoulders. “It’s like rape, murder, and drugs are their main priority.” I watch as her face drops, and she swipes her hand across her brow.
“Hey, if you don’t feel comfortable or if this is too much for you, drop me at the fucking door and go home.” I know my words sound harsh, and I really don’t mean them to, but the last thing I need is to make this chick feel shit about what happened to her. “If this is a reminder of what that cocksucker did to you, I can handle this alone.”
“I want to help. I’m fine.” She shoots me a quick smile, but she’s not fooling me.
“Only if you are sure. I know what happened to you was fucking awful, and he paid for it with a bullet. That’s the only reassurance I can offer you.”
“Like I said, I’m fine,” she repeats, stopping the car just outside the door. Stepping out of the car, I catch a glimpse of someone. Whipping my head to the side, my eyes land on one of the Savages, one I recognize from the party a few weeks ago.
“Brax,” he calls over, holding out his hand for me to take. I can’t help but notice how he twirls a matchstick with his tongue, moving it from one side of his mouth to the other. “How are you holding up, man? My name is Match, it’s good to see you again. I know we didn’t get to speak at the party the other week.”
“I’m okay,” I say with a nod, taking the hand he has offered me and giving it a firm shake, squeezing ever so slightly. “Good to see you again.”
“You’re looking good; word is that you and Carter have gone your separate ways?”
“Oh really?” I lift my brow, pursing my lips as I narrow my gaze on him. “Who said that exactly?”
“It’s just the word, man. So, is it true?”
“We have a difference of opinion on something. That’s all,” I reply, hoping to dispel his curiosity. Fuck knows what is happening with Carter. All I know is that when it came to it, he didn’t have my back. Something I never thought would happen. He’d always been the one that stuck by me. Now, I wasn't so sure.
“Come inside,” he instructs with a wave of his hand. “Boss is waiting for you.” I follow him, Tara falling in beside me. The instant smell of weed hits my senses and music blares loudly.
“Bit early for a party,” I say when the guy turns to me.
“Never too fucking early, man.”
“I just hope Jeffries is taking this fucking meeting seriously, I ain’t here to party. This is business, serious fucking business.”
“Chill, man. It’s all good.”
“It will be when I’m out of here and business is done.” I continue to follow him into the living room where the music is coming from. Naked women float around holding trays bearing drinks. Jeffries spots us walking in and throws his hand in the air. I’m sure I saw his mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear a damn word because of the music. I close the space, taking his hand and pulling him into me for a loose man hug.
“It’s good to see you, Brax,” I hear him say as he shouts over the music.
“Shall we go somewhere a little quieter?” I say with a flick of my head.
“Sure,” he replies casually turning to the naked blonde behind him. I watch as he picks up the rolled up twenty-dollar bill, shoving it inside his nostril, inhaling the white substance already cut into lines. Turning his attention back to me, his eyes widen when he sees Tara standing just behind me. “You brought the girl?” A smug look on his face spreads as he looks past me and straight at her.
“She drove me here,” I say, holding onto the part of my torso where I was shot.
“Fuck, man, take a seat. How are you holding up?” He moves his head from side to side, yelling to one of the guys over in the corner. “Turn down the fucking music. We have business to attend to.”
The level of the music drops completely, and it’s like some unspoken order was just given. All the woman scurry to leave the room, the guys all finding a seat on either barstools or couches. I sit down, guiding Tara with me, making sure she is sitting bes
ide me. She drops down heavily, giggling a little and I notice all eyes on her.
“Hey, what’s she doing here?” one of the guys asks, his eyes narrowed as though he’s trying to scope it out.
“This is Tara Mellano. Carter’s cousin. She brought me here since riding the bike is off limits.”
“She should have stayed in the car, man. This is business, and she’s too much of a distraction.”
Shit. The guy is right but I’m not going to let him know that.
“She fucking stays. Now talking of business…” I turn my attention to Jeffries who sits in the chair beside me.
“What is it you want from us, Brax?” he asks with wary eyes.
“Help, but it comes with plenty of reward.”
“We usually deal with Carter. Why should we trust you when there is so much friction between the two of you?” The guy flips a coin across his heavily tattooed knuckles, over and over.
“Stains is right,” another guy pipes up and before I can reply, they are all talking loudly, grumbling between themselves.
“Wait,” Jeffries roars. “Hear him out,” he says commanding the guys.
“We were dealing with Alvrez, as you know. The deal went wrong, and I soon realized that he was keeping a girl hostage. My fucking girl. I managed to get her out of there, but we lost the money and the fucking deal didn’t happen. The bastard sent his men after me, gunning me down and taking Isabelle again. I lost the girl, the money, and your drugs; now I need your help in getting all three back.” My main focus is Isabelle and always will be, but I have to play this to their advantage.
“Not my fucking problem.” He drops back in his chair, pulling his leg onto his knee. “Why is this the first I’ve heard of it? I know Carter let us down on the drugs, but there was no mention of the girl.”
Fuck. I had no idea what Carter told these guys about that day. “Guys, I know you’re pissed. You’re businessmen. I get it. You rely on us bringing in the stuff for you to earn a living. I fucking get it.”
The scars of us Page 5