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DEPRAVED

Page 19

by J, Bella


  Crossing his arms, he leaned against the doorframe. “He knew she had stopped eating but didn’t tell anyone because she asked him not to.” He bit out the words like they were coated in venom, corrupted by hate. “He was so selfishly in love with her, he would have done anything to keep her to himself. So, he kept his fucking mouth shut about her eating disorder, not telling a soul.”

  I got off the bed, making sure I was covered. “Onyx, I’m not comfortable—”

  “That’s why you’re here, Alyx. That’s why my brother has this twisted fucking obsession with you.” He raised his voice, anger dripping from his mouth. “He thinks helping you will ease his own fucking regret. He thinks it will make him feel less responsible for Kate’s death.”

  The fury in his eyes and the hard lines on his face were terrifying. Being alone with him while he acted this way scared me. He straightened as he looked down at the sheet around me. “Motherfucker.” He roughed his hands through his hair, and I glanced down, seeing the blood he noticed on the sheet. “So my brother ruined you as well.”

  “Onyx, please. You’re scaring me.”

  “Funny. I’m not the brother you should be scared of, Alyx.”

  “Onyx—”

  I flinched and yelped when he slammed the door shut behind him. “You’re not special to him, Alyx. The only reason he wants you is because the girl he really wanted is dead, and you seem like a very close replica of her.”

  “Stop.”

  He slanted his head to the side. “Why? Does it hurt, the truth?” Slowly, he sauntered toward me, his gaze fearless and scornful. “I knew when we saw your mother forcing her finger down your throat it would fuck with his head.”

  Instantly, my blood ran cold, and I couldn’t feel my legs. “What did you say?”

  A malicious grin spread on his face. “We were on one of our midnight runs that night, visiting your father. You drove up in the driveway, and your mom was waiting for you by the door.”

  Bile started to churn, and with every word he spoke, it moved an inch up my throat.

  “We saw it, Alyx. We saw it all.”

  My hand reached up to my throat as if I could stop the bile from erupting. My pulse was racing, my insides coiled tight like it had been wrapped with barbed wire. I was pretty sure a knife in the gut would feel better than this.

  “Your mom forced her finger down your throat, and you vomited right there on the fucking porch.”

  “Oh, God.” I turned around to face the wall, leaning with my head against the cold concrete.

  “That’s the night Granite decided he would find a way to take you away from that house, away from your psycho mother.”

  I remembered that night like it was yesterday. It wasn’t the first time my mom had forced me to throw up. But that night was different. I had never seen my mom as angry as I did that night, all because I decided to skip one class. One goddamn ballet class, and all hell broke loose. That night, three slices of pizza ended up on our front porch, and I could taste the blood as her nails scratched the back of my throat. But the one thing that made that night different than all the other times she made me sick—literally—my dad was standing inside the house, watching without saying a single word. My dad did nothing to stop her, and just stared at me with sadness in his eyes. It was the worst night of my life, witnessing how my dad’s love for my mom overshadowed his love for his own daughter.

  “So, you see, Alyx,” Onyx continued, “you’re not special to him. I tried to tell Kate this as well, but she wouldn’t listen. Hopefully, you will.”

  “Stop, Onyx. Please.”

  “He’s using you to ease his conscience.”

  “I said stop.”

  “Don’t make the same mistake Kate did, Alyx. My brother is not fucking worth it.”

  “I said fucking stop!” My fist slammed against the concrete wall, excruciating pain radiating from my soul to every bone in my body.

  “He will ruin—”

  “You heard her, Onyx.” The sound of Neon’s voice was like liquid relief that flowed over me. “Leave,” she continued.

  “I’m not done talking to Alyx yet.”

  “Yes, you are.” Her voice was firm, strong. “Don’t make me tell Granite what happened here.”

  Finally, I managed to pull myself together, and I turned to face them. Neon’s glare was fixed on Onyx, and he glanced from her to me. “He’s going to kill you…just like he killed her.” Then he left.

  With that warning hanging in the air like thick smoke about to smother me, I slipped down the wall and sat flat on my ass, burying my face in my hands. There were no tears. Just thoughts. Crazy thoughts that made absolutely no sense, and I didn’t know how to sort through it. I wiped my palms down my face, trying to take a few deep breaths.

  “It seems our little Onyx boy is still jealous as fuck over big brother.” Neon walked over and placed a heap of clothes on the bed before sitting beside me, leaning her head against the wall. “Shake it off, Swan Lake. Around here, you can’t afford to walk around with doubts and shit that will keep you from thriving.”

  “What if he’s right?”

  Neon shrugged. “What would life be without a fuck-load of what-ifs? Unfortunately, we can’t always answer all the stupid fucking what-if questions. But we can choose to ignore them.”

  I pulled my fingers through my hair. “I don’t want to be someone’s ticket toward redemption.”

  “Well, the way I see it, you don’t really have a choice in the matter.”

  Surprised, I glanced at her, and she gave me a warm smile. “The truth sucks. Deal with it. It’s harsh, but necessary.” It was amazing how Neon could be straight with her no-bullshit answers, yet she had a way of not making it sound depressing and hurtful.

  Neon pushed herself up and extended a hand. “You can’t ask for a better protector than Granite. Be thankful you have him on your side, whether you’re a redemption card or not.”

  I placed my hand in hers, and she helped me up off the floor.

  Neon was right. No matter what Granite’s motivation was, I was here, and I didn’t have any choice in the matter. What was done was done. And after what happened between Granite and me, there was no going back.

  Neon stepped closer and placed her palms on my cheeks. “I have a good feeling about you, Swan Lake. You’re strong. And that’s all you need around here. Strength.”

  I smiled half-heartedly. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Of course, I’m right.” She inched back. “Listen, I don’t have anything for you to wear. Granite said we’re leaving in an hour, so I’m going to rush to the nearest shop and see if I can find you something in the kiddies’ section.”

  “Would you stop?”

  She winked teasingly. “Hey, I intend to use every opportunity I can to make fun of your bony ass.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t doubt that for a second. Hey, where are we going?”

  “Granite insisted that we take you to a safe house.”

  “Why?”

  “How the fuck should I know? I just live here, remember? There’s a shirt and pair of shorts for you, you know, in case anyone else decides to barge in here. Can’t leave you here wearing nothing but a sheet. I’ll be back soon.” Blowing a kiss my way, she closed the door as she left. Somehow, I felt like Neon and I might become friends. God knew, I was going to need a friend around here. And she hadn’t been anything but kind to me.

  The bowl of cereal taunted me from across the room, and Onyx’s words played on repeat inside my head. Someone they both loved died from not eating. It all made sense now, why everyone was so fucking obsessed with me eating. But was that all I was to Granite? A cruel reminder of someone he lost, hoping he might be able to live down the regret he felt?

  Better yet…why did it fucking matter to me what I was to him?

  23

  Granite

  Something wasn’t right. I could smell it in the air as we stood outside the garage. Warning crawled all over my
skin, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it just didn’t feel right. The last time warning knocked on my skull like this was the night my dad died.

  “Yo,” I turned to Ink, who was packing out the ammo, “Neon back yet?’

  “No. Don’t think so.

  “When did she leave?”

  He glanced at his wristwatch. “About forty minutes ago.”

  I looked over at the empty space where her motorcycle would stand. She didn’t ride a Harley like the rest of us. She had a pitch-black Ducati Monster. She called a Harley “the old fucker’s ride to hell.”

  “Call her. See where she’s at.” I lit a cigarette. If it wasn’t for the run, I’d have a fucking beer right now.

  Dutch stepped in next to me. “We should get the girl in the van.”

  With a simple nod, I gave him instruction to go get Alyx. These wheels were rolling on the fucking hour, whether Neon was here or not.

  As Dutch rushed off to get Alyx, Ink came back looking as pale as a fucking ghost, and I knew. I fucking knew this was why my motherfucking skin crawled with warning.

  “What’s going on?”

  He held the phone out to me, his eyes dark and doleful. “It’s Neon’s phone. One of the prospects found it outside the front door. Granite, Neon never goes anywhere without her phone.”

  Just as I took the phone from him, the video caller rang. My gut twisted into a thousand tiny motherfucking knots.

  Biting my lip, I slid my finger across the screen. And true as fuck, Slither’s ugly motherfucking face appeared.

  “Hello, Granite.” His split tongue lapped over his lips. “It’s a fine day today, isn’t it?”

  “What the fuck are you doing, Slither?”

  “Just making conversation. I have to say, your huge-ass face looks tiny on this screen. Much less…intimidating.”

  A heaviness crashed down on my chest, my body wracked with chills. “Don’t fuck with me. Where is Neon?”

  “Oh, she’s here. Hold on.” The screen image went vivid as he moved. “There she is.”

  On the picture was Neon, gagged, naked, and hanging upside down from the motherfucking roof, blood dripping down her arms.

  I stumbled back, the phone shaking in my hand. “I swear to fucking God, I will cut your dick off and shove it down your throat, you motherfucker!”

  Slither laughed, full-on hysterical laughter that was meant to mock me, then turned the camera back on himself. “Now, now. No need for such violence. You knew when you started this shit it would become messy.”

  “Let her go.”

  “No.”

  “Slither—”

  “You think those two prospects you killed the other night were the only two pairs of eyes I had on you?”

  Anger surged, and I grabbed the first thing I could find—a wrench—and threw it across the room, the clanging sound as it hit the wall resonating through the garage. “Don’t fuck with me, Slither. You let her fucking go, right now!”

  He brought the camera closer to his face, eyes narrowed. “You chose to fuck with me the day you mind-fucked my newest prospects into thinking kidnapping the PC’s daughter was actually a good idea. Well done, by the way, getting my guys to do your fucking dirty work.”

  I bit my tongue. Did he really think I was that stupid? The call was most likely being recorded, so there was not a chance in hell I’d fall in that trap by confessing.

  “I told you, we don’t have the girl.” Clenching my jaw, I tried my fucking best to sound confident in my own lie, but the image of Neon hurt was fucking with my head.

  “You see, Granite, I call bullshit. One of my scouts saw your blue-haired pixie shopping for clothes that would…well, fit a ballerina. Do you have a ballerina in your midst?”

  This guy knew exactly which fucking buttons to push. “Motherfucker, how many times do I have to tell you we don’t have the fucking girl?”

  “I don’t believe you. Now, the deal is simple. Let the girl go home. That’s it. I don’t want her. Just let her go home to her loving family, confess this kidnapping sham was all the Kings’ doing, and I’d let your little blue-haired pixie go.”

  “There’s just one problem with that, you sick fuck. We don’t have the girl!” I shouted into the receiver while kicking my boot against the fucking wall. “And if you’re so fucking convinced we have her, why not go to the PC yourself?”

  Slither snorted. “I’m not stupid. You and I both know I can’t do that without evidence.”

  “Exactly what I thought. You got nothing.”

  “But you got something, don’t you Granite? A pretty ballerina.”

  “I. Don’t. Have. Her.” I gritted out between clenched teeth.

  “Liar. Let’s see if this will get the truth out of you.”

  A scream ripped through the receiver. “Neon! Jesus Christ.”

  Ink cursed, pulling his hands through his hair while we listened to her scream. The sound was scraping against my bones, penetrating every goddamn vein in my body. The intense pain and horror coming from her screeching cries was agonizing, and if I was a man with a heart, I’d probably feel the burn of tears. “Stop, Slither. Stop, motherfucker! What are you doing to her?”

  “Oh,” he faked a look of surprise, “here, let me show you.” The camera moved before it zoomed in on a finger laying in a pool of blood on the ground. A sudden coldness hit at my core, a flush of adrenaline burning a hole in my stomach. I was too fucking shocked to say anything.

  “Now,” the camera moved back to his ugly motherfucking face, “that’s the first digit she lost. She has nine more. Catch my drift?”

  Wiping my sweaty palm down my face, all I tasted was horrid, sour bile.

  “By the way, Granite. Have you fucked the blue-haired pixie before? If you did, you’d know how fucking soft her skin is.” I heard him inhale deep. “Oh, and she smells like jasmine—all fresh and fuckable. Do you think she likes it up the ass?”

  “You sick motherfucker, if you don’t let her go right now—”

  “What then, huh? What the fuck are you going to do about it? You have an hour to get the girl home, otherwise your pixie girl will have a very unfortunate encounter with a snake.”

  I bared my teeth, flexing my arm and finger muscles, ready to gut this motherfucker from nose to navel when we were face to face again. “You listen to me, Slither. And you listen good. If you hurt another hair on her head, I will hunt you down, and I will skin you alive, cut you up, and feed you to the fucking fish.”

  Another scream ripped through the phone speaker, and it ate through my skin, slicing its way to my heart.

  “Whoops.” Slither laughed. “There goes another finger. Guess now we’re down to eight.”

  “Mother—”

  “An hour, Granite. You have a fucking hour.”

  He hung up, the screen nothing but black. I couldn’t stop staring at it, my mind unable to process what the fuck I just saw.

  Ink cursed then screamed as if he had the hounds of hell mauling him, tearing the flesh from his bones. Glass shattered, steel clattered, and Ink’s cries ripped through his chest like a thousand demons, the echo of pain resounding from his roars. Slither was torturing Neon, killing her slowly, and there was nothing we could do about it. The one woman my father asked me to protect, and I couldn’t do it.

  I was just about to crush the phone into pieces when a message alert chimed. My heart sank to the soles of my feet, and dread churned in the pit of my stomach. That message chime was like the fucking church bells before a funeral—foreboding and ominous.

  I stopped breathing when I waited for the message to open. And when it did, my fear was confirmed.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “What is it?” Ink grabbed the phone from my hand. I didn’t want him to see it, but my reflexes were delayed as shock still zapped through my system.

  Neon wasn’t hanging upside down anymore. Still bound by her ankles,
her upper body had been hoisted up, a giant hook pierced through the skin of her back. Her face…oh God, her face. It was…it was horrifying.

  Ink stumbled back as he looked at the picture, falling flat on his ass. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring and eyes protruding as anger started to set in.

  “Jesus Christ. Neon,” he muttered, her name nothing but a soft sound from his lips.

  I watched as the phone slipped from his grasp, the veins in his arms bulging, and tears slipping down his face. I’d known the man for years, but I had never seen him shed a tear. It was one of the most heartbreaking things I ever had to see. The strong, big-mouthed man-whore tearing apart at the seams.

  Dear God, this was not part of the plan. This was not how shit was supposed to go down. We were losing control over this war, and it had hardly fucking begun.

  “We have to take Alyx home,” Ink gritted between clenched teeth.

  I sat on a crate in the corner. “You know we can’t.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  My eyes met his, and I knew he knew why we couldn’t let Alyx go. It was no more an option than getting Neon back was a guarantee.

  My throat felt like a desert as I tried to swallow. Words escaped me, my lungs numb and unable to expand.

  “Motherfucker!” Ink lost his shit, jumped up, and with one violent sweep, he knocked every tool that was on the table next to him to the ground. “What the fuck? She has nothing to do with this, man. How…why the fuck did he—Jesus, Granite. What the fuck do we do now?”

  Weaving my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots, I tried to focus, as I couldn’t fucking think straight. “He made it clear, man. If we don’t take Alyx back home within the hour and publicly take responsibility for her kidnapping…he kills Neon.”

  “No!” Both Ink and I turned and looked at Alyx standing next to Dutch, eyes wide and face white. “What is going on?”

  “Jesus. Dutch, get her out of here!” I yelled.

  “No!” She yanked away from him and stormed toward me. “Where is Neon?”

 

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