“You should have brought her to the hospital.” I shout walking closer to the couch to make sure this stranger is still alive. Her dark blonde hair is matted and covering the side of her face. Taking her small wrist, gently placing my fingers on her artery, I can feel the rhythm of her pulse. The relief of knowing I am not a witness to some type of crime is shortly lived when I see the pink finger nail polish. Bethany had the same color on her nails earlier. Rushing to move the hair of out her face, looking at Bethany’s closed eyes, my world is once again turned upside down.
“That’s why I didn’t bring her to a hospital.” K.J. says, “she needs real help, Dalton. Not a stay in some mental ward.”
“How did you find her?” I ask, standing up and placing another blanket over Bethany to keep her warm.
“That’s not important.” He answers. “But you should know she had sex with at least one of those men in that house. If not more than one.”
My first thought is to laugh at his accusation, but then I remember the look on her face when she stormed out earlier. Betrayal like I have never before felt runs cold through my veins making it hard to look at her. My mind is screaming at me to shake her awake and demand she get her shit and leave. How dare she blame me for everything wrong with our relationship when she has been spreading her legs for drugs.
“I know what you are thinking, Dalton. She may not deserve nothing from you right now, but as the woman that once carried your child, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you didn’t help her.” K.J. says to me while still holding on to my shoulder. I shrug his unwanted touch away, storming out of the living room, into the kitchen to get me a drink.
Grabbing the first bottle of liquor I see, tilting my head back, I down the liquid in three swallows. When K.J. enters behind me, instead of chunking the bottle in his direction like I want, I place it back on the counter.
“You could have thrown it.” He states.
“I can usually put up with your mind reading bullshit, but right now I would like for you to be normal.” I spit out, taking my anger out on the wrong person.
“I don’t do normal.” He declares while taking a seat at the table. Grabbing another bottle of liquor, making sure this one is full, I take a seat across from him. After I’ve drank enough for my stomach to be on fire I offer it to K.J. It’s no surprise when he turns it down. I’ve never seen him drink more than one beer at a time.
“What happened to the assholes you found her with?” I start to question him. He looks up at me, one eyebrow arched, before answering honestly. “Dead.”
Shaking my head, trying to clear the vivid image of K.J. attacking two drug dealers with his knife, I take another drink. As the liquid burns my throat going down I get another image in my head. Bethany lying naked in some thug’s arms, high as a kite, content with the way her life is going. The image has me hurdling the bottle toward the wall. The sound of the glass shattering, along with the buzz I’m now feeling, is enough to numb the constant ache in my chest.
“Do you love her?” K.J. asks.
I start rubbing my hands through my hair, thinking about the question he asked, wondering if the love I still feel for her will ever be enough to fix what has been shattered. Much like the glass now lying on my kitchen floor. When she wakes up, will she regret what she’s done, or run straight into the arms of another drug dealer?
“I knew my past would come back to haunt me. In high school I was the heartbreaker. It was never just love with Bethany, what we had was so much more.” I finish my declaration on a whisper.
“I may not understand relationships but addiction is something I know too well. That girl lying on your couch right now is not Bethany. That is a mother who lost her son due to a tragedy most people will never experience. She is an addict, Dalton. She needs help.” He declares before standing up to his full height. Walking over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, “call me if you need me.” He states before walking out of my kitchen.
Slowly making my way to the living room, I walk over to Bethany, touching her lightly on the cheek. As I stand here, staring at her unmoving form, my mind going from one extreme to the other. Should I wake her up and let her witness the destruction she has done? Her nose starts twitching and forcing me to remember the girl she was before both our worlds came crashing down. I lay down, beside the couch, content to let her have the peace she desperately needs. When she wakes up tomorrow her life will once again forever change.
Chapter 35
Izzy
Gunner arrives home right on time for the lasagna to come out of the oven. The house smells of garlic and pasta. Reminding me of all the times I’ve turned to food to cure my wounds. I spent all my alone time exploring the house, and preparing this dinner with a forced smile on my face. There are just some things in life that are not meant to be, while it might be impossible to move on, I am just going to have to try. In other words, it’s time to pull up my big girl panties and stop acting like a blubbering baby.
Gunner comes strolling into the kitchen, carrying a briefcase, with a huge grin on his handsome face. “It smells wonderful. What are we having?” He asks.
“Lasagna, garlic bread, and a chocolate cake for dessert.” I answer while setting the table. I choose to eat at the smaller of the two, in the kitchen, rather than the huge oak table sitting in the dining room. When he left this morning I was afraid that it wouldn’t take me long at all to explore the house, but was pleasantly surprised when I found the garden outside. There are rose bushes, of every color, surrounding a gazebo that sits in the shade thanks to the giant trees blocking the sun’s rays. I retrieved the fashion magazines I had brought with me, and spent a good portion of the day outside, dreaming about the possibility of, one day, becoming a fashion designer in Paris.
“I see you found the wine.” He states playfully, smiling at me.
“You know me. I have a nose that can smell alcohol from a mile away.” I say with laughter in my voice. Remembering all the times he would come over to find me in the tub with a bottle of cheap wine.
“It’s good to see you getting back to your old self.”
His eyes are still playful, but his words make it harder to not think about K.J. We both know the reason for my being here, bringing it up only makes the situation awkward. Realizing his mistake, he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry, Izzy. That was inconsiderate and rude of me to say.”
“All will be forgiven and forgotten if you do the dishes.” I suggest, not wanting to let him off the hook so easily. Placing the lasagna in the middle of the table, before taking the seat he has pulled out for me.
“It’s the least I could do.” He agrees instantly. Once he’s seated in the chair across from me, I serve each of us a huge portion of noodles, meat, and delicious melted cheese. The first bite Gunner takes has him moaning low in his throat. I place my hand over my mouth, trying to keep the laughter in, but ultimately failing.
“Go ahead, laugh it up. This is the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted.” He declares, making me blush from all the praise. Knowing how much I hate to blush, he changes the subject. “Did you get a chance to explore today?”
Nodding my head up and down, I say nothing, just having shoveled a mouth full in. Once I get it swallowed down, and I’m able to speak again. I ask him about something I noticed earlier. “The door directly across from the dining room was locked.”
“That’s my office.” He states in a stern voice that I’ve never heard him use before. Thinking he is just touchy about his work, like most men, I make no further comment on it. Just because I’m not questioning doesn’t mean I’m not curious. This morning he was adamant that everything in this house was open for my exploration, now he’s acting strange about a locked room. Maybe he’s a secret cross dresser, and he has a second wardrobe hidden in that room. The thought of him standing in a tight dress with heels makes me giggle out loud. Placing my fork down on my plate and grabbing my full glass of wine, I swallow it in one gulp. The only way to b
e sure he won’t steal my underwear is to break into that room. With my mind made up. I pour me another glass of wine, and continue to make small talk with Gunner. Another possible stranger I could ultimately know nothing about.
Chapter 36
K.J.
I haven’t received the phone call from, Sticks, telling me he has found Izzy, and it’s slowly driving me insane. Lifting weights in my apartment, trying to blow off steam, isn’t enough to get the images of her and Gunner living in the same house together. Wiping the sweat off my brow. I grab a bottle water out of the fridge and try to cool my raging blood that way. The sound of my phone ringing, cuts through my deadly thoughts, giving me hope Sticks has come through for me again.
Looking down at the number scrolling across my screen I get a sinking feeling in my gut. “What?” I say into the phone.
“You told me to call if there was anything to report.” He says. “You might want to get down here as quickly as possible. Three men just broke into the apartment.”
“I’m on my way.” I state before ending the call. Changing out of my work out clothes as fast as I can, I head down to the garage where my bike is now parked. I hated leaving it at the Cholo Brothers house, even for a few hours, but the situation called for it. Starting her up, I pull the throttle back, determined to get to Izzy’s apartment as fast as possible.
Pulling into the apartment complex I’m instantly greeted by Ralph, the guy I had watching Izzy’s place. He walks over to me while I’m sitting on my bike. “They just left carrying a blonde headed chick that seemed to be passed out over the biggest one’s shoulder.” He declares.
My immediate reaction is to be thankful Izzy was not in the apartment. I had thought Lorenzo was smart enough not to go after someone other than me, but he is distracted. Men in that state of mind make mistakes. That is why he ended up with Kiersten, not Izzy.
“Which way?” I ask.
“They headed South in a black SUV…” He’s cut off by the ringing, coming from my pocket. Looking down I see an unknown number.
“We have her.” I hear Lorenzo’s voice say into my eat.
“I see your still having trouble finding people to rely on.” I smugly state into the receiver. “You should call your men back, and ask them who they grabbed.” I close the phone, before I can hear his reply, instantly dialing another number.
“There’s been a change of plans.” I say to Sticks. “Izzy’s sister has been taken by Anthony and Lorenzo’s men. Send me the address and make sure no one else can find that intel for another forty-eight hours.”
“What about the other project we were working on?” He asks.
“That needs to be done by tomorrow night.” I demand, once again hanging up the phone. As soon as Ralph told me they were headed South, I knew exactly where they were taking her. To the one place I swore I would never return, my childhood prison.
The outside of the building still looks the same. The red brick is missing some of its mortar in spots, the windows are still barred up, and the single light from the entry way shines as a reminder of a one-way path back to hell. I take my knife out, strolling to the guard standing watch at the door, slicing him across the neck before he can alert anyone to my arrival.
Walking the winding halls, of the place I once called home I can hear the, all too familiar, sounds of several guards approaching footsteps. Staying hidden around another corner, I can hear their voices getting closer, waiting for the perfect time to attack. They don’t see me as they are turning the corner, so I’m able to wrap my hands around the first guy’s head. Breaking his neck with a simple twist. The second guard, having time to react, reaches into his holster trying to grab his gun. With my knife still in my hand, I grip the handle tighter, plunging it into his chest cavity. When he falls to the ground I take my knife back knowing he will soon bleed out, and continue on my path. I’m only two halls down from Lorenzo’s old office and with no sign of anymore guards I’m able to stroll in like I did the last time I was here.
I’m sick and tired of being hungry and filthy for someone else’s enjoyment. You cage someone up long enough and you’ll bring out their animal instincts. The guards no longer touch me in fear of what I’m capable of, having learned a lot since my first kill, thanks to the monster that keeps me locked in this cell. Mr. Alvarez has been bringing me to different rooms at least twice a day, to torture his enemies. For answers that they end up giving me. The blood no longer bothers me, getting used the smell was the hard part, but eventually I became immune to it. Taking someone’s life was the easy part. Getting used to the blood, smell and color, was the hard part.
The same guard that comes to get me every day, finally shows up, opening the door. “Let’s go,” He hollers out, leading the way down the hall. We’re headed to the room I’m always brought to first. He never looks back. Mistakenly seeing me as someone who will blindly obey. Arriving at the door, I’m never sure what awaits me behind the door, one thing is certain. It’s time for me to do my job.
The guard opens the door, giving me a strange look, before I walk in. Everything looks like it should. An old table with only one weapon sits to the side, a six-inch knife waiting in the center, and a person tied to a chair in the middle of the room. At closer inspection I can start to piece together why the guard looked at me the way he did. Instead of the normal victim, waiting for his death, there is a beautiful woman with long brown hair looking at me with eyes full of tears.
Slowly approaching her, I hear her whimper behind the tape over her mouth, before she closes her eyes tight with fear. As I stand here, watching her chest rise and fall, I wonder what she could have done to be here. I’ve never questioned them on the task they have me do, until now.
“Look at me.” I say to her.
She shakes her head no. Refusing to open her eyes. Tears streaming down her face.
I’ve been told no before. Multiple times actually and the only way to get what you want, I’ve learned, is to force them to do what you want with pain. That is how I have become what I am. Reaching forward I wrap my left hand in her hair, pulling tight, forcing her head back. She lets out a grunt of pain right before her eyes pop open.
“What did you do?” I ask.
When she takes too long to answer I further tighten my hold on her hair. “I was Lorenzo Alvarez’s assistant. He thinks I overheard one of his conversations he had with Santiago. I swear I didn’t hear anything. Please you have to believe me. Just let me go.”
Listening to someone beg for their life is not something new for me. Learning Mr. Alvarez’s first name is Lorenzo comes as a surprise. Letting go of her hair I walk over to the table and grab the knife that fits perfectly in my hand. She starts screaming for someone to help her, begging for her life, keeping her eyes trained on the blade. I let my auto pilot take over and begin the long process of making her bleed.
She screams out with each cut no longer begging for her release, she’s praying for a quick death. There is blood dripping down her arms, legs, and neck. Reaching out for her hair once again, I force her to look at me, making sure she is paying close attention to what I have to say. “There is enough blood on you for the guard to believe your dead. When you leave this room do not turn right, go left, and find your way out of here.”
With that said I cut her hands and feet free before placing the knife in her hands. With a single nod of her head she lets me know she understands. Walking over to the door, knocking three times, I let the guard know I am finished. When he opens the door he glances in the direction of her unmoving body, before turning around to take me back to my cell. As soon as his back is turned I grab his head twisting as hard as I can. The sound of snapping bones can be heard echoing in the narrow halls. With his dead body now on the floor, bending down, I take the only weapon he has on him.
It doesn’t take me long to find Mr. Alvarez’s office and I still have three bullets in the clip of my gun. There were a few guards that I had to shoot, but a couple of them I snuck up on and
killed them the same way I did the first. Not bothering to knock on the door. I charge in with my gun aimed dead center in the chest of the most powerful man I know. He looks up at me with a mixture of anger, curiosity, and fear. There is no mistaking the last. That is something I know too well from my time spent here.
I say nothing, waiting for him to speak first, as I keep my gun pointed at his heart. “What can I do for you, K.J?” He finally asks.
“I’m leaving.” I state, giving no room for argument. “I won’t stay in that cell like some caged animal anymore.”
“And how do you think you will survive in the real world, my boy. You are not like them.” He says with a smirk on his face, knowing he’s the one to blame for that.
“You should know better than anyone, Lorenzo. I can survive anything.” With the use of his first name his left eye twitches, and his nostrils begin to flare.
“What makes you think I’ll let you live after threatening me with a gun.”
“You need me.” I state.
“Don’t fool yourself, boy. There are plenty of men out there that can do what you do.”
“Then have them do it.” I say before calling his bluff and putting the barrel to my own temple. He gets up from his chair, letting it slam into the wall behind him, “I knew one day we would be having this conversation. I’ve turned you into the perfect soldier and you should be shown the same respect as all the others.”
Removing the gun from my head, I point it back at him, “you can keep your respect. All I want is my freedom.”
I kick down the door to Lorenzo’s office, strolling in like I did when I was thirteen, once again confident I will be leaving this building alive. Lorenzo is sitting at his desk, black hair perfectly groomed, those deadly black eyes trained on me with a smirk on his aging face. To his right is Santiago with his arms across his chest, seemingly not surprise to see me. Sitting in a chair, with his back to me, is a broad shoulder man I’ve only seen in photos. He finally turns around with a smile on his face, his white hair and hazel eyes looking all too familiar, “you were right Lorenzo. He is much more menacing in person. I guess he’s more like me than I thought.” Anthony says with laughter in his voice. Standing before the man that tried to have my brother killed, and ruined Dalton’s life, has the veins in my neck bulging from pure rage. It’s taking every bit of will power I possess not to shoot him between the eyes.
Breaking The Silence (Fatally Flawed Book 3) Page 12