The Shattered Girl

by Leigh Christopher

  With that, the line goes dead and I’m left gawking at the phone. Racing back into the tech room, I find the men scouring pages and pages of plans.

  “I just got a call from Ryker. He’s just confessed that Tia’s father is out to hurt her. There were sounds in the background, sounded like a train track, possibly a warehouse. Can you pull up all security footage from the warehouses closest to the railway, Jason?”

  “We’ll find her, man,” Grant promises.

  I glance at my partner and nod. I know we’ll find her, the only question is, in what condition will we find her?

  “Yes!” My roar is loud and echoes around us. Everyone’s eyes are on me. After two hours of searching through security footage, six men, six screens, I find what I’m looking for. The fucker is about an hour from here. My team surrounds me as I hit print on the info I found.

  “It’s an hour away,” Grant says loudly. “If we leave now, we’ll be there by nightfall. Let’s take this fucker out. I want to shred him.”

  I glance back at the man behind me and regard the malicious grin that quirks his mouth. Grant is known for his love of knives and for him to exact some revenge burns in his veins, but I can’t let him.

  Miguel Alvarez is mine.

  “This mark is mine. He killed my parents, it’s time for me to gut him like he did them. I want to hear him scream, beg, and plead for his life. I want to see the life drain from his eyes. For them. For me. And for Tia.” A heavy hand falls on my shoulder and I regard him.

  “Then you’ll get it. Let’s go.” He grabs his jacket and gun belt which has sheaths for two butcher’s knives and he shrugs both on. My holster is all I need, but in case we find Tia and she’s hurt, I grab my own jacket and we race out to the SUV.

  The darkened windows allow us anonymity, and I slip into the passenger seat. With Jason taking out the surveillance around the warehouse, I know they won’t see us coming, but I’ll see them. Him.

  Two other vans behind us start up and the engines roar in the dark night. The roads should be quiet, and if we can get there faster, I want to do that. Gassing the engine, Grant pulls out of the parking lot and we head out toward the highway which will take us out of the city and into the quieter area of Elwood, Illinois. There’s not much there from what I can tell on the mapping system.

  Of course he’d go to a place that’s far from civilization. My heart thuds when I think of Tia. What he’s doing to her. I’m coming baby. Just hold on. I love you. I fucking love you, don’t you dare leave me. My mind repeats the vow, the promise, the three words we’d both been to afraid to say and I’m just praying it’s not too late.

  “We’ll find her. She’s going to be okay. Stop worrying so much.” Grant’s voice drags me from the concern that’s taking over my mind.

  “I know, man. It’s just…” My words taper off and I’m not sure what to say. How to say it. I’ve not confessed my love for her yet, but I know I can trust the man beside me.

  “You love her, I know. We’ve had this conversation, Brax. You’ll get to tell her. Mark my words,” he says in a tone filled with conviction. If he’s so sure, then so am I.

  I’ll find you baby. I swear on my life, I’ll find you.

  Chapter 18

  Tia

  “There’s my little girl.” The familiar rumble of the man I ran from for so long wakes me from a dream of safety. Of Braxton. When my eyes crack, he’s there. The devil himself. Revulsion, fear, and anxiety hit me so hard my breathing stutters. I’ve been hanging from these ropes for so long and my hands are numb, but all I want to do is wrap them around his neck. My fingers tingle and I swallow the bile that sits in my throat like a lump, threatening to choke me.

  Pinning him with a glare, I don’t respond, but fear slowly slithers like a serpent through me.

  “Now, Belle has outdone herself. Finding you and presenting you, so…” A thick finger trails its way up my bare hip sending another wave of dread coursing through my veins. He snakes it around my head and with a big, strong hand, he grips my hair roughly. “Beautifully.”

  A small squeak falls from my lips; it’s all I can muster. My strength is depleted and the pain from having my hair wrenched back has tears forming in my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I’ll not give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears.

  It’s been years and he still has power over me to send me into panic. He’s older, but still evil. Dark eyes, almost black under thick dark brows, bore into me. The scar that runs from under his left eye down to his chin seems to glow in the dim light. That’s the scar I gave him and the memory has my body tingling to do it again. I’m only dressed in a skimpy top and a pair of panties, but the way he’s looking at me, I might as well be naked. I feel bared to him, flayed open for his hungry gaze.

  “Still such a feisty little thing, aren’t you, Tia?” he hisses in my face, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on my cheek. It has more memories surfacing, choking me. My body quakes when he once again pulls me forward. My arms scream in agony from being tied up all this time. I don’t know long I’ve been here, but now as the light turns a burnt orange, I would have to guess at least twelve hours. Unless… I’ve forgotten. I’ve gone there. “I’m going to make sure you pay for all the shit you caused with that little boyfriend of yours. Do you know he came into my club and tried to take me down?”

  “No, I didn’t.” My thoughts falter when I think of Braxton.

  I knew he was working for Retribution. They were the ones who saved me. Only, he doesn’t know. I never told him my whole story. I never told him everything that made me who I am today.

  I never told him if it wasn’t for his boss, Corp, I wouldn’t be alive. Corp and his team found me in that house. The one I grew up in. I was bleeding, left for dead. I had just turned nineteen.

  “Of course you did, little Tia,” he asserts with the confidence of the asshole he is. I didn’t know about their plan to take my father down. If I did, it would have been easier for me to complete my plan and exact my revenge.

  It’s been years, too long has passed since I vowed that I’d kill him. And now that I’m in the same room, I’m in no fucking condition to do it.

  Break free.

  I can’t.

  If you don’t do it now, you’ll never be able to.

  How? Tell me how?

  Get him to loosen your bindings.

  He won’t listen to me.

  With the conversation playing in my mind, I watch him stalk around the room, pulling up a chair before me. The small silver tray he sets on the table beside me glints, stealing my attention from the war raging in my mind and my gaze falls on the tools he’s about to use on his youngest daughter.

  You see, my father is a master of torture. Of hurting people. However, he’s no longer the one they call when all else has failed, he’s the one who now runs the show.

  Master manipulator.

  So are you.

  She taunts me, telling me things I don’t believe. Can I really manipulate him into undoing my bindings? Into letting me go? Perhaps. But what then? I kill him and get put away for it? I need to think. To figure out how this is going to play out.

  “Tia, my baby girl.” He commands my attention and when I meet those evil, dark eyes, I know there’s no choice but to play along.

  I need to give him something, play on his emotions. If there’s something I know about him, it’s that he’s a man who’s fueled by them. Growing up with him has given me an insight into the workings of his brain. “Father, can we talk? I have missed you. So, so much.” My voice drops on the last few words as I pour sadness into it. My acting abilities must have worked because he jolts in surprise.

  “You missed me?” He laughs incredulously. “Do you miss the day you stood, toe to toe with me and told me you were going to kill me?” His tone is filled with anger now. Good. Emotion. I need that to work with. If he’s angry, it means I can weave my way into his head and make him release me.

  “No.” I drop my gaze again, hop
ing to hide my expression and not show fear. “I just… I was wrong when I said that. My fear overrode everything else and I didn’t realize what I was saying.” The words I spew are bullshit, but I know I have him when his gaze softens.

  If I could convince him that I love him, he’d let me go and I can finally get the revenge I need and want. He grips the smooth, steel blade from the tray. A scalpel that I know he can use to hurt me more than I’d like to admit. Or recall for that matter.

  He shakes his head as he pushes up, rising to full height. Like that night when I broke, fear riddles my senses like a poison, slowly seeping into the cracks of who I am. Those shattered pieces that he created in me are now at his feet.

  He holds all the cards. I’m fucked. “Look, you’re here to hurt me,” I level with him, my voice more confident and stronger than I expect, and from the look on his face, something he didn’t expect either. “But, deep down you know I’m the key to getting you out of whatever plan Brax and his team are working on.” In the hopes that he listens and doesn’t freak out, I watch as he contemplates my words.

  My heart catapults into my throat, the beats hastening as his gaze darkens.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Shit.

  You’ve fucked it up, Tia.

  No. No. No.

  Black swirls around me, threatening to engulf me, but I can’t do this now. I can’t lose sight of him in this moment. Please, please, don’t. I beg and plead. And it seems to work momentarily. In seconds, my father, the devil himself is mere inches from me. “Do you think for one second I want you to help me?” He spits out the words like they’re venomous.

  “I just—”

  “You just thought you could fuck over your old man. Why? Because you blame me for your fucked up brain?” He laughs, the sound so dark and evil it’s as if he drenched me in ice-cold water. My body shivers in the dim light and in the darkness of the room I’ve been hanging in. It’s about the size of an office, with space I’d guess for a desk and chair, but it’s only furnished with a sofa which is situated opposite me. The same one where Ryker fucked my sister.

  When I drag my blurry gaze back to him, I find my father’s demented smirk pinned on me.

  Black. Black. Black.

  Kick him.

  I can’t.

  Do something, Tia.

  I can’t.

  You need to fight.

  It’s over. I don’t have anything left in me. My body aches. He reaches out a hand, fisting my hair and tugging my head back. “My daughter, the twofaced little bitch. I gave you everything. I almost lost clients because of you and that stupid brain of yours.” I wince in pain as he rips my head back by my hair.

  The strands in his grasp sting my scalp as the bite of pain shoots through me. “Please,” I beg, one more try to make him see reason, but it’s futile. When he’s like this there’s nothing that can stop him. Nothing that can break down those black walls he has around him.

  “Don’t fucking speak.” Then I feel it, the cold metal on my skin. He carves into me. The smooth flesh of my neck lacerated by the sharp blade. Slowly. Meticulously. Painfully. All the while I feel the blood trickle, drop by crimson drop I go to my place.

  That place. My haven.

  Only this time, it’s not her there. It’s him. With piercing caramel eyes, he smiles.

  Holding out a hand to me.

  Braxton Carter.

  The man my heart belongs to. The one person in this world I finally allowed myself to feel something for again. The only person I’ve loved since my mother.

  Tears sting my eyes, threatening to spill. I try to hold them back as the blade slices between my bared breasts. My chest heaves in agony and I try to still my heart.

  I want to leave this place. To wake up beside Brax, to feel his arms around me. Steadying me. Making me indestructible. Because as my own father etches the metal into my skin, marking me with this filth, it feels as if I’m breaking all over again.

  All those fragments that Brax put together, all those tiny pieces he mended are coming undone, inch by bloodied inch and I don’t think I’ll ever be whole again.

  “Look how beautiful you are, Tia,” Satan coos in my ear. Releasing his hold on my hair, he steps back and admires his handiwork. From my jaw all the way down to my belly button is a smarting sliver of red. I feel the life force seeping from me. So slow it’s almost unnoticeable. This is what he does. I’ve seen him do it too many times before.

  You see, my father is an artist of sorts. He’s got a steady hand. He moves swiftly. Making him an artist of torture, slicing open flesh, displaying his creations using the bodies of his victims as canvases.

  Now, he’s made me a victim. I’m his masterpiece. “Father.” My voice is croaky. My eyes flutter closed as unconsciousness steals me, but I fight it. It’s the only thing I can manage. All my strength bleeds from my wound along with the deep crimson metallic liquid that now marks the floor below me. “Please… d-don’t…” My mouth is dry as I beg for my life. The one slipping through my fingers. “D-do… t-this…”

  He doesn’t respond, only picks up another instrument from his torture tray and nears me. I can’t see what it is. My vision blurs and the tears I’ve kept at bay now fall. They tumble from my eyes and stream down my cheeks. The saltiness stings the wounds on my lips and face.

  “You, my sweet little, Tia, are going to die. Do you know why? Because you’re just like your mother. That’s why I had to take care of her. You were too young for them to incarcerate and your mental health wasn’t one hundred percent, so you took the fall. And all these years you believed it. Didn’t you?” he seethes in my ear.

  My head is starting to spin. I have no more words. I slump forward, my head hanging like a limp rag doll. Pain sears me again and again, but somewhere in the darkness I find light.

  I go to him.

  Braxton.

  I love you.

  Chapter 19

  Braxton

  The door flies open, it’s dark inside, but I feel her. As if her magnetic force is pulling me closer. She’s here. I can’t just storm in, so when the two men in front lift their guns and head inside, I follow. My Glock is trained before me.

  “Sir!” one of the men on my team bellows and my heart bangs against my chest so hard I’m sure it’s cracked a fucking rib. Entering the larger part of this house, I see him exiting through a doorway from what looks like a smaller room. When I reach it, I see her. Tia. I rush toward her and find her body hanging by a rope. There are small cuts and abrasions from her hips up her body to just under her breasts.

  Blood has dried between her thighs, and from the slashes from her smooth caramel skin and everything in me fights to hold it together. Her face is perfect, besides the small cut on her cheek. Her lips are cracked and all I want to do is kiss them until they’re soft and pliable. I want to heal her. To fix her.

  “Baby,” I murmur, circling my arms around her waist as Grant cuts her down. As soon as she’s loose, her arms fall to her sides and she’s now slumped in my arms. “Jesus, what have they done to you?” I murmur into her hair, inhaling her scent, mixed with the smell of blood. My rational thinking flies out the fucking window.

  If that fucker was here now, I’d rip him apart. Limb by fucking limb.

  Walking us backward, I slump on a worn sofa with her small body in my arms. It’s then she mumbles in her semi-conscious state. “I love you, Brax.” The words still my heart for a moment before catapulting it into my throat.

  Men swarm around me, taking evidence and bagging it. Her breathing is ragged, and when the medics finally arrive, they scoop her up and place her on the gurney.

  “Her heart rate is stable, but we’ll need to get her back to HQ, Brax,” one of the paramedics, I think his name is Lincoln, informs me.

  “I’m riding along.” I stalk out the door with them. But I feel a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I turn to find Grant.

  “She’ll be okay. A stro
ng woman doesn’t go down easily.” Nodding, I swallow the lump of emotion threatening to choke me and leave him with the rest of the team to collect all we need to put that fucker away.

  My concern is now for my girl. Her safety and well-being is now at the forefront of my mind and until she’s awake and telling us what happened, I will not be able to concentrate on anything. Fear for her life, and fear that I’ll do something I might regret when I find that fucker burns through me.

  Once I’m safely in the back of an unmarked vehicle, they take off toward our warehouse. To the safety that we’re assured. I’ve made my choice. She’s mine. And soon she’ll know who I really am.

  Not once over the almost twelve months I’ve known her have I been honest in what it is I do. I’ve deflected every time she’s brought it up, but now the truth will come out.

  Including hers. I need to know everything there is to know about the man she calls Dad. The one I’m going to put away for life. Fuck, who knows, perhaps I should put him down.

  I watch them work on her wounds, cleaning her cuts, but even with her skin bruised, sliced open, I see the girl I fell in love with. The woman I want in my life. Even though she’s battered and bruised, she’s still beautiful. Perfect in every way.

  The lacerations will leave scars, perhaps forever, and I know she’ll remember this, every time she looks in the mirror. I just hope the reminder will not hinder our journey together and we’ll be able to forge ahead, making sure our future is filled with happiness and not the sick memories of what’s happened to her.

  Even those dark demons she hides in her mind. The same ones she doesn’t know I share.

  It’s been hours. My mind is racing with what they’re doing. The doctor has been in there for too long. He’s the best in the country, but deep in my gut, I’m filled with an emotion I’ve not let myself feel since I saw my parents lying in a pool of their blood.

  Fear.

  Anxiety fills me with dread. Frustration morphs into anger. The emotion that swirls inside me is like a hurricane storming a city, taking down everything in its path.