The room was dim, the light flickered on and off, and there was a cold, furious sweat shining over his half-naked, violently shaking body, but even still, Kyle had a clear view of the horror that was playing out right before his eyes.
A knife. A large, sharp knife … so much blood.
“Papa! Papa! Help me, please!”
“Punishment, Kyle.” Reanna whispered the words shakily as she raised the knife in her hand. “She must learn.”
Sofia struggled against the straps holding her down against the table, her little body shaking with a chilling fear. “Papa, please!” she wept, a river of bloody tears spilling down her face. “I’m sorry! Please no more. Papa, please!”
“Sofia!” Kyle cried, reaching out to his daughter, but still, he was unable to move, unable to get to them, to save his little girl.
“Papa don’t let her hurt me, Papa! Please! Papa!”
“Please,” Kyle wept, closing his eyes and praying, begging God for help. “Please, make it stop.”
“Papa!”
“Reanna!” Kyle shouted, his voice sounding muffled despite the force he put behind his effort. “Reanna, stop!”
He couldn’t breathe. It felt as if water was filling his lungs, but even still, he screamed her name, begging her to stop torturing their daughter..
“Stop,” he sputtered, exhaustion causing him to fall to his knees. “Stop, Reanna! This is not you, baby. This is not you.”
“This is not me.” he heard Reanna whisper, repeating his words.
“Yes, baby,” he wept, nodding his head and reaching out to his family with a shaky hand as his eyes fell to the filthy, cold floor beneath him. “Please stop. Stop. This is not you.”
“It’s …” she shook her head, finally turning around to face him, “not me.”
Then the room went black. All around him everything was just … black. Silent. All he could hear was the sound of his own heavy, frantic breathing.
Kyle’s eyes shot up from the floor, searching the pitch dark room in a fearful panic.
“Kyle …”
The terrified whisper brushed against his ears, and he immediately knew who the voice belonged to.
“Reanna …”
“Kyle,” she repeated, her whisper now a cry and sounding as if it were getting closer to him.
Kyle reached into the darkness, trying to find her, to feel for her hand and pull her to him. “I’m here, baby. D-don’t cry.”
“Kyle, please.”
Then her voice disappeared.
“Reanna …” He whispered into the darkness. “Reanna … Baby …”
A flicker of light crept into the emptiness, slowly revealing the dim room. Reanna stood, silent in the middle of the kitchen, barefoot and naked, tears of blood streaming down her face.
“Kyle …”
“Reanna,” he called to her. “Come,” he reached for her once again, though his limbs felt heavy. “Come to me.”
In the distance, another voice sounded.
“Bambino … Ascoltami, il mio bambino. You must learn, so I will teach you.”
Kyle’s heart began to pound at the sound of her voice.
“No,” he whispered, somehow knowing what was coming next. “No … don’t.”
“Shh … I will teach you my son. You must do right, or God will take it all away.”
“No, stop,” Kyle croaked. “Stop … Reanna come to me, baby. Get away from her now.”
But Reanna didn’t move. She never moved. She just stood. Even as Abrielle walked past Kyle and entered the kitchen, Reanna stood. Even when Kyle shouted for her to come to him, to run away, she remained where she stood.
“No, Abrielle. Stare lontano da lei!”
“Watch me, my son. I will do this for you.”
Kyle screamed ‘No’, but no sound left his lips. He tried to move again, to save his love, but still his body was too heavy. It took every bit of energy in him just to lift his hand.
Abrielle walked forward until she reached Reanna, despite Kyle begging her not to. Touching her shoulders, then her hair, she pulled Reanna’s hair back over her shoulder, then ran her hand gently over her neck. Reanna’s cries intensified, as did Kyle’s, knowing deep within his gut what was about to happen next. He reached out to her. She reached out to him, both of them begging Abrielle not to do it, but their cries went unheard. The room went silent. Even as their mouths moved, as they both cried out to one another, no sound could be heard. Only Abrielle. Only the sound of the knife moving across the table. Only the sound of her grip, tightening around the handle. Then came the scream of Reanna when the blade first pierced her skin, slowly dragging up her arms, to her shoulder until it reached the space right beneath her neck.
Kyle shouted ‘No!’ once more, and again it went unheard.
Abrielle gripped the knife tight, jerked Reanna’s hair back, pressed the blade in deeply, then dragged the sharpened steel across her neck; that smile that was burned into Kyle’s memories bright across her face.
Kyle shot up into sitting position with a shout, his eyes darting to every area of his bedroom.
Shit!
“Kyle … Honey.”
At the sound of her tired call, Kyle turned to her immediately, cupping her face.
“Baby,” he said breathlessly, his heart pumping wildly in his chest. “Are you alright?”
Not waiting for her answer, Kyle began to frantically search her body, checking every area that he’d recalled Abrielle running the knife over.
“Honey,” she whispered, the word dripping with concern. “What are you doing?”
It was stupid, he knew that, but the fucking dream had been so vivid. So real. He wouldn’t be able to calm his panic-stricken heart until he was sure that both of his girls were okay. Until he knew for sure that Abrielle hadn’t been right. That God hadn’t taken them away from him.
“Kyle, why—”
Kyle lifted her head slightly, cutting off her sentence as he searched her neck, the place where Abrielle had cut her the deepest.
“Honey,” she whined, attempting to move his hands. “Honey, stop,” she pouted. “You’re freaking me out right now, babe. Seriously, I’m too tired.”
Ignoring her, he kept searching, blinking his eyes rapidly, fighting to make them adjust to the darkness.
“Kyle.”
When he found nothing, when he was certain that she was okay, that she was alive, he laughed. Not a humorous one, a relieved one.
“Thank God,” he laughed breathlessly, kissing her neck, then her cheek, then her lips. “You’re okay.”
“Uhh, yeah,” she whined, staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Except for the fact that I’m sleepy as hell, and my fiancé has decided that this is the perfect time to have a psychotic break.”
“Sofia,” Kyle whispered, lowering his eyes from hers.
Reanna shook her head, not understanding him. “What?”
Lifting his eyes back to hers, Kyle whispered, “Sofia,” once more, right before he broke contact with her and got up from the bed swiftly.
“I have to go check on her,” he rushed around looking for his boxers.
Just to see that she’s okay, he thought as he frantically searched the room until he found the shorts. Snatching them up from the floor, he put them on, then rushed to the bathroom to wash his face.
He flipped on the faucet, filling his hands with cold water, then he leaned forward and washed his face. He needed the shock, the coolness of the water to fully wake him from the nightmare he’d had. He also needed to see Lady bug. Needed to touch her just to make sure she was still there, needed to hug her, kiss his bambina, and make sure she was well. And he wouldn’t be able to calm down until he did.
“Kyle Valente.” Reanna appeared at the bathroom door in his silk, royal blue pajama top, her hands resting angrily on her hips. “What the hell is going on with you? Did you have another dream?”
Yeah, he had, but it was more real than any he’d ever had before and he believed he kn
ew why.
At least he wasn’t alone for this one. Having Reanna next to him had helped him snap back into reality quicker than usual.
“Kyle, talk to me!”
“I will,” Kyle promised, pulling a hand towel from the rack and drying his face and hands. “I will, I promise, baby.” He walked past her. “I just need to check on Sofia first.”
With that, he left their room, quickly walking down the hallway until he reached her door.
He looked down at the floor, smiling at the shapes from her night light, spilling out of her room.
That was normal … Just the way he’d left it earlier.
He stepped lightly, slowly opening her bedroom door as he peeked in. It was when he saw her long, black braid, with her night ribbon tied into a bow at the bottom, hanging over the side of her bed that he breathed a long sigh of relief.
She was there, okay, and sleeping soundly in her bed.
Walking in, Kyle listened for the sound of her soft snoring, smiling when he finally got close enough to hear her. She was so peaceful, and most importantly, she was safe.
But for how long? was all Kyle could ask himself.
How long would his daughter be safe with that … woman in New York City?
Walking over to her bed, Kyle kneeled down in front of her, gazing at his sleeping angel.
What if Abrielle escaped? Got past security somehow and found out where he lived? Found out that he had a daughter. Or worse, found out where she went to school.
There was a slim to none chance of any of this ever happening, but even still, the point was that there was a chance. And Kyle didn’t like that. He didn’t like taking chances with his family just because he was afraid to resolve it. If not for himself, Reanna and Sofia were more than enough of a reason for Kyle to figure out what the hell he was going to do about Abrielle.
Tonight.
Placing a gentle hand on her head, Kyle leaned forward and kissed his lady bug’s cheek, whispering, ‘I love you,’ before he stood, and swiftly left her room.
He had to do something. That dream had fucked him up, it’d been so real, so … loud. And her voice. It had felt as if Abrielle were actually standing next to him, whispering all of that shit in his ear. He couldn’t take that; he’d never be able to rest with that woman in his life. He wouldn’t be able to function with her so close to his family, he didn’t know what he’d been thinking, keeping her here. But that would all change tonight. Now, if only he could figure out what the fuck he was going to do.
He could kill her.
Shaking his head, Kyle immediately decided against that.
To kill her himself would mean he had to see her which, well, now that he thought about it, he really didn’t want to do. And he didn’t want to have his men just off her because, to Kyle, it just felt as if she were getting off easy. Plus … God, he didn’t know. He just didn’t want to have anything to do with her fucking death. He didn’t want to have anything to do with her at all. To him … Abrielle was not his mother; she was just a faint memory in his past that he’d rather not be forced to relive. He felt like he had no connection to her. He didn’t even hate her any more.
She was nothing to him.
Shaking his head at himself, Kyle ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he made his way back to his bedroom.
He needed to figure this out before sunrise at least, before a new day truly began, then maybe it’d be symbolic to him or some shit. Leaving the past where it fucking belonged.
Plopping down at the edge of his bed, he leaned forward, resting his elbows to his knees as he held his face in his palms.
Think, think, think, Kyle. What the fuck are you going to do?
In the close distance, Kyle heard his bedroom door close.
“Alright,” Reanna said, her arms crossing over her chest as she stared at him. “Talk.”
Sighing, Kyle’s shoulder slumped. “Reanna—”
“No, Reanna,” she mimicked. “I said talk.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this; he needed to think.
“Baby—”
“Talk!” she snapped.
And yes, Kyle actually flinched, surprised by her tone.
“I said talk!” she yelled, angrily dropping her arms to her side. “Don’t call me baby, don’t tell me we’ll talk later, and don’t try to divert my attention the way you did before we went to sleep!” She closed the distance between them.
Kyle sat up as she stood between his legs.
“There is something wrong, something bothering you, and I know because I …” she let out a long breath, “I can feel it still. And I hate when you try and keep this stuff from me Kyle. I hate when you act as if I don’t know you or that you can’t talk to me about something … about anything!”
“Reanna—”
“No!” she cut him off. “Don’t handle me, Kyle. I’m not your problem; I’m going to be your wife, and you need to get used to the idea of sharing what’s troubling you. You need to talk to me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now,” she commanded him firmly. “What the hell is going on?”
Kyle blinked, staring up at the woman. “So you knew I was attempting to fool you?” he asked, wanting to kick himself for being so stupid.
Of course she’d known. Reanna always knew.
“Yes,” she stressed, bringing her hands up to gently cup his face. “I always know when you’re keeping something from me.”
Closing his eyes, Kyle leaned into her touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, then he inhaled a deep breath when he felt her lips press to his in a slow, lingering kiss.
When she pulled back, she looked into his eyes. “Talk to me, Kyle.” She gently caressed his face. “Talk to me.”
Nodding, Kyle released a long breath, silently praying that she wouldn’t be angry at him for keeping this from her.
“Abrielle is in New York.”
Silence … Too much of it for Kyle’s comfort, so he just continued to talk.
He told her what had happened with his brothers over the weekend. How Abrielle had called, looking for safety and Kyle because his parents were hunting her, and how his brothers had swiped her and brought her to the U.S. because they hadn’t known what the hell to do. She listened as she gazed into his eyes intently as he explained to her his current dilemma, his current battle with himself on how to handle it. Right now, she was in a Hotel, but the problem with that was that with her being so close to him, Kyle was having a hard time just being. He felt like he was being sucked back into the past, and that was a place where he’d never wanted to be anymore.
“Then why?” she asked, interjecting the question while he’d been trying to explain his feelings.
Frowning, Kyle shook his head, confused by the questions meaning. “Why what?”
“Why would you keep her here?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Why would you put yourself through that?”
At her pained words, Kyle straightened, but he didn’t say a word. Not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because he honestly hadn’t known how to answer her question.
“Kyle,” she said his name as if she were calling to something inside of him, rather than to the man staring back at her. “Why are you torturing yourself?” She shook her head. “You don’t love her. You don’t care for her. You don’t even see her as a mother. Why are you keeping her and giving her all this shit that she doesn’t deserve from you instead of just giving her off to your parents and being done with it?”
Oh, Kyle thought, lowering his eyes briefly. Then he lifted them back to hers, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”
Her brows knitted as she dropped her crossed arms. “Yes, you do,” she whispered, then cupped his face once more. “And the sooner you admit it to yourself; the sooner you’ll know what you want to do next.”
And it was those words from his fiancé that seemed to just … give Kyle what he needed to slip into his right mind. It was
as if they had dragged him out of an abyss of uncertainty, slapped sense into him, and suddenly … he knew why.
He knew why he’d hidden Abrielle; why he’d put himself through this evening of torture, having that sick fucking woman close to him even though just the thought of having her in this city already made him sick to the point of physical pain.
“She has to go … Honey. Okay?”
Nodding his head at her soft words, Kyle pulled Reanna onto his lap, hugging her tightly as he buried his face in her neck.
“Its time, Kyle,” she whispered, gently kissing his cheek. “Time for you to heal.”
Nodding his head at her soft words, Kyle pulled Reanna onto his lap, hugging her tightly as he buried his face in her neck.
God, his fucking heart was breaking, and it hurt. It hurt so damn bad. He was positive he’d never felt anything like it before. It was that feeling, that foreign feeling that he’d felt when his brothers had first told him Abrielle was in New York. It was a feeling of betrayal, of heartbreak so intense that it twisted Kyle’s insides in knots, threatening to leave him a pathetic, broken mess if he didn’t find the courage to finally face his demons. To finally set himself free.
Holding him close, Reanna comforted him; she held him in a way that no one ever had before her, and it nearly broke him down. He’d never felt such love before. So free, so real that he felt it physically moving throughout his body as if it were his blood. As if it were the very thing coursing through him, giving him life and strength. She held him, running her soft fingers through his hair, and trying her best to give him a bit of her own strength. That same strength that had gotten her through the worst moments of her life. A small portion of that unbreakable courage that kept her from falling into the darkness that life had tried so hard to push her into, so that he himself could have the courage to do what he needed to do next. So that he could finally have the courage to admit what he’d known the moment he’d been told that Abrielle had come back from the dead— Dead. That was what she had been to him since the last moment he’d laid eyes on her.
This was not his fight.
It was never his.
He’d been nothing but an object, a pawn, mercilessly used in a fight that he’d never asked for nor wanted to be a part of. And the cycle of pain was now threatening to begin itself again. To revive itself, and to thrust Kyle right back in the middle of the three people that this was really about.
Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken Page 56