Her terrified screams sent a chill through me. I didn't even hesitate to open my door, but I'd been unprepared for the solid weight that had been pressing against the other side at the same time, and I stumbled backwards into my apartment. I was momentarily stunned, taking in the scene playing out before my eyes with disbelief. Della was there, but so was Daryl, and he was going at her in a crazed, frenzied way with his fists, muttering angrily beneath his breath as he hit her mercilessly. I screamed and jumped him, trying to pull him off of her until she fell and they were inside my apartment.
"Let her go!" I screamed clawing at Daryl wherever I thought it would make a difference, trying to get his attention off of Della and onto me. He was like a madman, though, fueled by some unseen rage. I was amazed at his strength as he ignored my pounding on his shoulders and backside, and swatted me aside when I pulled at his hair. Undaunted, I went at him again, punching him in the side of the head and pulling his hair again until I came away with clumps of it in my hands.
Della had stopped screaming and was crying now, curling into herself with her arms over her head and doing the only thing she could do to try and lesson the pain of his blows. It was clear from her appearance that this attack had been going on for some time. Her clothes were torn and hanging off of her, her face was swollen and bruised, and there was blood. So much blood! Tears spilled from my eyes as I looked around my apartment, searching wildly for something that I could use as a weapon. I was certain that Daryl meant to kill her.
"Ginger‒" Her murmur was low and weak.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch! This is your fault! All you had to do was give me money!" Daryl cut Della's desperate plea off by kicking her in the ribs. The sickening crack sounded through my apartment like a gunshot blast.
"You fucking bastard!" I screamed, jumping onto his back and wrapping my arms around his neck. I pulled with all my might, but Daryl seemed to have gained super human strength. I punched him repeatedly in the neck and head, not satisfied with the sound of his meager grunts. It wasn't until I bit down on his ear that I got the reaction I wanted.
He swore viciously, grabbing at his ear and swing around to face me. "Fuck!" he snarled, spit flying from his mouth. "You're gonna pay for that!"
His face was a twisted mask of rage. This wasn't the Daryl that I knew. This was a monster. His face was red and blotchy, his eyes glittering with uncontrolled rage that made me wonder what Della had done to provoke him to such viciousness. He shoved me backwards with a sneer, clenching his fists at his sides as he glared retribution down at me.
"Are you fucking crazy?" I screeched at him, backing up with fear. I wanted to get to Della, who was lying motionless against the wall, but his threatening presence terrified me. Tears fell down my cheeks as a deep hopelessness suddenly overwhelmed me.
"Yes!" he replied through clenched teeth. "I'm fucking crazy!" He was on me before I could stop him.
My breath caught because of what I saw in his eyes. Death stared back at me, soulless and evil, convincing me that Daryl no longer cared about anything or anyone other than satisfying the darkness that controlled him. There was also desperation in his dilated eyes, which frightened me most of all. I pulled out of his grasp and backed up, holding my arms out in front of me as if they alone could stop him from getting to me.
"Just get out!" I screamed, realizing that there was no reasoning with him. The door was open, why didn't he just leave?
He ignored me, stepping closer. "Someone needs to teach you a fucking lesson, too!" he seethed, more spit flying. "You're always around! Always interfering!" he snapped, his fists clenching and unclenching.
"Daryl, just leave so I can help Della, please!" I begged, my heart pounding fast. "She needs‒"
"Shut the fuck up!" he growled, cutting me off. "I don't give a shit what she needs!"
I threw myself at him with a frustrated scream. I wasn’t sure what I would gain, but doing nothing while Della was suffering drove me to act. I couldn't hold out hope that a neighbor may hear the attack and call the police. In this neighborhood, folks kept to themselves and turned up their TVs to drown out the things they didn't want to hear.
I managed to get a punch to his mouth before he shoved me back roughly. "You fucking bitch!" He spit blood and narrowed his furious eyes on me, wiping the corner of his busted lip. "I've about had enough of you!"
I landed on my butt, and glared up at him. For the first time I noticed the deep scratches lining his face and neck.
"Daryl, stop…" Both our gazes shot to Della. She'd managed to pull herself up into a sitting position, her head rolling against the wall, her eyes closed. Seeing her condition, I didn't know how she managed to remain upright. "Le-Leave her alone. Please," she pleaded. The strength of her tone belied her appearance.
It broke my heart that she was worried about me. I crab-walked backwards when Daryl stepped closer, bending over me slightly. Part of me was thankful that he was leaving Della alone, the other half scared shitless that I was now his target. I couldn't help but wonder where Rebel was. Apparently he hadn't returned yet from whatever business he'd needed to take care of.
"Don't touch me!" I hissed, kicking out at him as he reached down for me.
"You got any money, bitch?"
I just blinked up at him.
"Do you?" he yelled when I hesitated. I shook my head.
A movement drew my gaze to Della. She was clutching her side, slowly tilting to the side. I could see the regret in her wet eyes and the trembling of her swollen mouth. I knew that she was in pain. It was painful looking at her.
Daryl snorted. "I knew you'd be no use to me. Just like her," he grumbled with a sneer on his face. "You bitches are only good for one thing."
He brought his foot back and I knew that he was going to kick me. I braced myself for the blow.
"Daryl!" someone called out from somewhere close to the apartment. Suddenly a man appeared in the open doorway of Della's apartment, and halted.
His unexpected presence stopped Daryl from kicking me.
"Over here, asshole," Daryl snorted, drawing the guy's attention to us.
The man spun around. "What the fuck, man?" he said, walking across the short space to us. He glanced down at Della and then back up at Daryl. "You were supposed to get money from her, not beat her up. I thought she was your girl." His eyes met mine briefly, before traveling over my body with leering interest. "Who's this sweet thing?"
"Della's fucking friend," he said with all of the hate that I was feeling for him right then.
"She's cute," I heard him say to Daryl.
"Looks like we're gonna have to find another way to get money."
The man's expression switched to slight panic. "You need it now, man! Wicked doesn't fuck around when someone owes him money."
"You think I don't know that?" Daryl yelled back at him.
I'd had enough of their inane conversation, which, thankfully, had taken Daryl's interest off me and Della for the moment. Della was a mess. I crawled my way over to her slowly. I needed to assess her injuries, and as soon as I could I was going to call the police and an ambulance. There was no way I was letting that prick get away with what he'd done.
"Della," I said softly, cupping her face gently. She opened her one good eye, a low moan escaping her. "Do you have your phone on you?" I whispered, feeling that the possibility was high considering that she was dressed for the day. She usually kept it in her pocket. Even before she responded I began to check her front pocket, trying to be as careful as I could. If I could get my hand on it without Daryl noticing, I could at least dial 911. "Honey, talk to me."
Her lips turned up in a half-smile, but all she did was moan. I kissed her forehead. "It's going to be okay." No phone. Damn! I took her hand in mine, and that's when she flinched and I noticed her fingers, which were bent at odd angles. She whimpered in pain as I frowned, trying to make sense of what I was looking at. My gaze snapped back up to hers in horror. "Did he do this?" I whispered sharply. The slig
htest of nods confirmed it.
I felt sick inside. "You fucking asshole!" I screamed up at Daryl. "You broke her fingers?" I was so enraged that I was shaking.
Daryl shrugged, unconcerned, looking suddenly proud of himself. "She shouldn't have slapped me."
I was going to do more than just slap him. His smug look was like adding gas to the fire. I lost it, flying up at him with a snarl, intending to hurt him in any way that I could. "What is wrong with you?" I hissed, not really expecting an answer. "You're insane!" I cried, going for his eyes, my hands curling like claws. I'd obviously caught him by surprise, because he froze, and I managed to claw deep furrows down his face, to match the ones that Della had given him, before he grasped my wrists and held me back. I kicked out at him. "Bastard!" My hate gave me the fuel to force myself back toward him close enough to knee him in the balls. I took gleeful satisfaction when he released me, doubled over in pain, and fell to his knees. "You're going to prison, Daryl!" I would see to it.
"Jesus Christ!" his friend said sharply, coming up behind me and taking hold of me to keep from doing more damage. I struggled to break free. He lost patience and jerked me backwards against him, wrapping both arms around me and pinning my arms to my side. "Calm down," he demanded roughly against my ear.
"He deserves that and more!" I breathed harshly, ignoring his command. Daryl was slowly getting back to his feet. When he glanced up at me, I could see by his expression that he planned to hurt me. The door was still open, and I took advantage. "Help! Help! Someone help us!" I screamed as loudly as I could, praying that someone would hear and at least call the police. "Help! Hel‒!" A smelly hand slammed over my mouth, cutting me off.
I watched Daryl's hands curl into tight fists. He was breathing heavily, anger glittering in his cold eyes. And then he did something that I hadn't been expecting--he reared back his leg and kicked Della hard between the legs. She cried out in pain and slumped the rest of the way to the floor, writhing in agony.
I twisted away from the hand over my mouth. "Noooo!" Tears filled my eyes in response to Daryl's cruelty. I fought his friend with everything that I had, but it wasn't enough to gain my freedom.
Daryl grinned evilly, totally lost in his madness. He came over to me and grabbed me roughly by the hair. "You fight me, she pays," he groused, making his intentions clear.
I wilted against his friend's hold, silently acknowledging defeat. "You're a fucking coward," I hissed with feeling.
"Look, are we gonna spend all day here, man, or what? If they don't have any money I don't see the point."
Daryl looked like he was thinking the situation over, as if he had options. I kept my gaze on Della's quiet, broken body, anxious to get to her. Daryl had to know that as soon as I could I was going to call the police on him, he wasn't stupid, and Della needed medical attention. There was no telling what kind of internal injuries she had. As more time passed, the bleakness of the situation began to overwhelm me. Why didn't they just go away?
I finally lost my patience. "Della is hurt, she needs a doctor!" I rushed out in a pleading tone.
My voice seemed to break through Daryl's thoughts, and suddenly he was focusing his crazed gaze on me. I didn't like the way that his eyes moved slowly down my body and back up again. There was a speculative gleam in them that hadn't been there before. It unnerved me, and I really didn't like the slow, knowing grin that spread over his face, as if he'd just had an epiphany.
His gaze shifted beyond my shoulder to his friend. "You know, Jack, I think I know a way I can get some money."
"What's that, man?"
"I met a dude the other night snorting coke in the bathroom of a bar. Struck up a conversation, had a few drinks. He got wasted enough to tell me that he knows a man who’s always on the lookout for young, pretty chicks. Pays good money for them, too. I don't know what he does with them, and don't give a fuck."
Dread began to fill me at the thought of where Daryl was going with this. Too many scenarios ran through my mind as to where I could end up.
Jack grunted. "Why didn't you think of that before half-killing your girlfriend, man?"
Daryl shrugged. "She's always come up with any money I needed before now, never thought about selling her ass to get it."
Jack chortled. "Too late now, bro, look at her."
"Yeah, but we still have sweet Ginger."
Daryl’s lascivious gaze filled me with apprehension.
"Can you get in touch with this man?" Daryl nodded. "Then we'd better get out of here before someone shows up."
"No!" I dug in my heels and pressed my weight back against Jack. I wasn't going with them willingly. I wasn't leaving Della.
"You have no choice," Jack grumbled in my ear, bumping me forward with his hips.
"Please!" I struggled to no avail. "Don't leave her like this. I'll go willingly if you call for an ambulance." I met Daryl's eyes. "For Christ's sake, Daryl, she was your girlfriend! She must have meant something to you once." Fresh tears escaped my eyes as I pleaded with him.
He snorted. "She hasn't meant anything to me in a long time, bitch, except for easy pussy."
I believed him. Della had told me that their relationship had become nothing more than booty calls, and she'd grown tired of his asking for money. I couldn't believe how cold and callous Daryl was acting, though. He didn't seem to care what happened to her.
"Maybe I should just put her out of her misery."
I stopped breathing. He couldn't be serious! I'd never cared for him, I’d always thought that Della could do better, but I'd never thought him capable of what he was implying now. I was seeing a whole other side of the man, realizing suddenly that he'd been playing both Della and me, hiding his true self from us while he'd used her. How could we have been so blind? He'd been decent in the beginning.
Afraid that he might do just that, desperation made me rush out, "Rebel will be here any minute now."
"Fuck, we'd better get out of here," Jack said, beginning to drag me out of my apartment. "Leave the bitch, man!"
I heard the sound of the click on my door, realizing that Daryl had locked it, and then he was pulling it closed behind us. "You got your car?" he asked behind us.
I struggled to get away as Jack pushed me in front of him down the short hallway, satisfied now that Della was safe and Daryl couldn't hurt her any more. I knew that if they managed to get me into their car that I would be in big trouble. Panic caused me to squirm, and I began to cry out for help again, hoping to leave a witness to a barefoot woman being taken away against her will.
I knew my disappearance wouldn't go unnoticed. Rebel would find me. So I screamed as loudly as I could and lashed out at Jack, clipping him on the side of his head. I knew that I'd caught him unaware when he stumbled back with a grunt, but instead of releasing me his hand clenched tighter around my arm. He didn't seem to have the same violent tendencies as Daryl.
With a sound of angry frustration, Daryl snatched me roughly from Jack, slapped me hard enough for me to see stars, and then threw me up against the wall. The breath whooshed out of my lungs with the force of my back slamming against the stucco wall, and before I could react, his hand was wrapping around my neck tightly. He lowered his face close to mine, baring his teeth like a rabid dog.
"Listen, you fucking bitch," he began with a breath so sour that it made me gag. "You'll come willingly with us, or I won't hesitate to go back and finish Della off. It won't take much for me to kick the door in, you got me?" he snarled. I was trapped by the evil glint in his eyes, noticing that they weren't as dilated as they had been before.
I didn't want to take a chance that he would kick the door in, and he didn't give me time to respond. He yanked me away from the wall with a jerk and dragged me behind him. I glanced around as he led me toward the parking lot, feeling more and more fear set in. My mind raced with everything that had happened, and the terror of what might happen next made me feel sick inside.
The next thing I knew I was being forced down on t
he floor into the back of a fairly new Camaro.
Chapter 17
Rebel
I pulled into the parking lot of Ginger's apartment complex just as a black Camaro screeched out onto the main road. I flipped the driver the bird because his reckless exit had nearly clipped the front wheel of my bike as I'd been turning in. Whoever he was, he was in a fucking hurry. I parked my bike in a vacant spot and made my way to Ginger's door.
My steps slowed as I neared her apartment and I noticed that Della's door was wide open. I slowed down as the inside of her apartment came into view. The first thing I noticed as I paused in the doorway was the silence. My gut told me there was no one there. I began to look around, noticing the disarray of items that had been neat and orderly the evening before.
Then my gaze landed on the first droplets of blood that were splattered on the wall. Shit! I instinctively reached for the gun that I kept tucked at the back of my pants. "Anyone here?" I rushed through the room to her bedroom, taking in the overturned lamp, the pillows on the floor, and the cracked mirror on the wall as I went. "Della?" She wasn't there, but it was apparent that her bedroom was where the attack had begun. There was blood on the sheets. I spun around to go back the way I'd come, following the trail of blood to Ginger's door.
Fuck! There were smears of blood all over the door.
I turned the knob, but it was locked. I'd made a key, but I didn't waste any time digging it out of my pocket. I took a step back and raised my foot, kicking the door open with one kick. As it flew back against the wall my gaze landed on Della's prone, beaten body on the floor. I dropped to my haunches and checked for a pulse. Her weak moan revealed that she was barely holding on to consciousness.
"Della, it's Rebel, sweetheart. Can you tell me what happened?" I'd already dug out my phone and was punching in 911, brushing her hair out of her swollen face. My gaze darted around the apartment, searching for Ginger. My gut told me that she wasn't there.
Ruthless (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 1) Page 13