Leave Her in Pieces

by August Red

  Where’s the man I bared my secrets to? I know you’re in there somewhere… You have to be...

  She stiffens, and it’s like Judas has read her thoughts. He moves away, brushing off where she’d been touching him. He nods to his lackey, jutting his chin. “Outside. Pack them in."

  “No!" Belle hurls herself in front of her family who are already complying. “No,” she cries, her head shaking. She feels like she’s yanking her words from her gut with a fish hook. “No, I won't let you take them. You're going to have to kill me first!"

  “Isabelle,” her mother cries, grabbing her shoulder. “Stop, please. This isn't helping, sweetie."

  “I won't let you take them!" Belle screams, ignoring her mother’s plea.

  “Move,” Judas barks.

  “You're not going to do it. I won't let you!” She yells as though possessed by a roaring animal that has unleashed itself. “You'll have to go through me. Got that, Judas? You'll have to kill me first."

  He stomps closer.

  Raises his hand.

  She closes her eyes, breathing deeply. Waiting. Shaking like a leaf.

  I know you won’t hurt me… I know you won’t…

  “Belle,” he says, with so much patience it scares her. She opens her eyes. “Don't make this harder than it is."

  “What?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, ready to collapse. “You afraid to kill me? Attack of conscience? Or do you just like to kill people in size order, Mr. Bane?"

  He isn’t amused. He hasn’t blinked either.

  The echo of her laugh dies, and all that is left are the tears streaking across her face. She wipes them with her sweater. “I meant what I said. You're going to have to go through me—”

  Someone knocks on the front door.

  Judas draws his gun.

  The short knock bangs louder the second time, more urgent. It seems to suck all the air out of the room and heightens the tension three-fold.

  Judas edges closer to the window, and without touching it, he sees the blue uniform. His face doesn’t change as he spews out his order, “Get them in the van. Call Tate, tell him plans have changed and meet us at the second location we discussed.” He looks at her dad first, then glances over at her mother who’s crying on her father’s shoulder. “Don't make a noise."

  Headed toward the back door, Judas hauls Belle from the huddle. She bumps against him, but he uses the flat of his palm to press her up against his body. Her back to him, she doesn’t try to put up a fight.

  Her father stops, notices his daughter's absence and turns, his face paling. “No! What’re you doing? That's my daughter. No!"

  Judas closes his eyes, sighs heavily, and taking his gun, nudges it into her side. “Do what I say." The shaved-head man pushes at her father's shoulder, just the right amount for him to trip a little, but still be able to move. “Go,” Judas barks a bit louder. He drags Belle to the door and mutters against the side of her face. She fights the urge to jerk her head back and head-butt him. “Answer them."

  She brings her hand up.

  He reads her mind.

  “Don't open it. Just answer them. Do it."

  She clears the clog in her throat, grinding her teeth together to seize the trembling.

  “Can—can I help you?"

  “Ma'am,” they immediately answer, “we received a call from a concerned neighbor that there’s a disturbance of some kind. Is everything okay, ma'am?"

  “F-Fine,” her voice cracks. “Everything's fine, Officer. We are just, uh, talking loud, sir… I broke curfew. You know how it is."

  “Ma'am, can you please open the door."

  The cold metal of the gun digs into her side. She can feel the side of his face plastered into her hair, feel his warm breath on her scalp as it travels over her head when he mutters, “Don't let them in."

  She scrambles, her excuse falling over her tongue like a clumsy trip of words. “My family’s actually out and I don't really feel comfortable with—”

  “Open the door now, ma’am,” the male officer commands. “We need to take a look around. For safety's sake."

  One second Judas is over her, his breathing in time with hers, and the next, he’s carrying her across the floor. She wriggles, but it’s useless with his arm banded around her like a prison-bar bent to fit her waist and paralyze her movements. She opens her mouth and he jerks her closer. "Don't. Don't even think about it."

  He tucks his gun in his jeans, opens the back door, and shuts it all with one hand, just as she hears the officers threaten to break down the door if she doesn’t comply.

  Judas lets her down on the grass and brings his hand up to enclose around her neck, with enough pressure that tells her if she moves one step the wrong way, he'll haul her over his shoulder if necessary.

  The dark bushes on their neighbors side block visage, then part to uncover the dark-blue SUV parked across the street. She eyes the scene around her.

  There has to be someone out here. It’s Sunday for God's sakes.

  But the neighborhood is dead.

  “Get in," he orders.

  She can see her parents in the backseat with Toby. “Where are we going?"

  “Get in the car,” he grunts, releasing her neck.

  “But—”

  “Get in the car or I'll throw you in." He shifts closer, finally allowing his anger to show itself. Belle curses at him and steps up on the ledge. Looking down, Judas massages his temple. “My fucking bike,” he mutters.

  Instead of sitting in the empty seat in the front, he sits next to her, swipes the door shut, and barks for the man with the scar to floor it.

  They’re on the road and headed to the highway before she realizes what’s happening. The small cries behind her wake her from her shell-shocked state and she turns, clasping her mother's arm. “You okay?"

  “Yes,” she reassures her daughter, holding Toby in her arms. Her mother’s lying; her tears and face scream her fears. Her father sits motionless beside her mother. It scares her, makes her stomach bunch in a cramp.

  "Dad.” She kneels, leaning closer to grasp his hand.

  He keeps his hand rooted in his lap, doesn’t acknowledge that he hears. “I'm all right, Pumpkin. Sit."

  “Dad."

  “Put your seatbelt on,” he orders, like she’s three and they’re on vacation or something.

  “What’re we doin’?" the driver asks.

  “You called Tate?” Judas sounds out of breath.

  “Yeah, he'll be there like you said."

  “Good. He can pick up my bike later."

  “Cops?"

  “Tate’s gonna take them when we meet up."

  “Where are you taking us?” Belle asks, with a little too much gumption. A blistering glare of sterling blue stops her rage dead-in-their-tracks. “Where are we going?” she asks, her words softer this time.

  “You aren't going anywhere.” He leans back into the seat, staring at the dashboard. “Your family’s going with Tate."

  “What…? What do you mean my family? What about me?"

  “Leave her alone,” her father pleads. “This is between you and me, not her. Not my family. Please.”

  Judas licks his lips slowly, ignoring her father, and bends his head for a quick second as he pushes out a long breath. “You're coming with me."

  “No!” Belle immediately draws farther away from him, letting her shoulder blades dig into the end of the window. “I'm not going anywhere with you."

  He answers in a matter-of-fact way that dares rebuttal, “You got no choice."

  She hears her mother beg her father to do something. But it’s no good.

  “I don't understand…” She searches Judas’ face, but he refuses to return her a look. “Why do you need just me? I want to be with my family."

  “Because I do,” his voice rumbles. “That's all you need to know."

  She doesn’t have to be a psychic to know he’s hanging on to his temper by a very short, very thin thread. “Why?" she says, b
reathless, the fight in her dying.

  His eyes meet hers, but his head stays straight. She asks again as his eyes, empty of emotion, drink her fear in. He’s sucking the strength out of her.

  Does he get some sick pleasure out of all of this?

  “Why me, Judas?"

  Scraping his jawline with his fingertips, he turns, directing his attention solely on her. His head slants toward her, his dark brows hooding half his eyes.

  “You’re mine, Belle.” He pauses, waiting for her to accept his words and then argue, but when all she does is stare blankly, her mind numb to the dark proclamation, he continues, “I own you, now."

  Chapter Eighteen

  EVERY BEAT OF HER HEART HURTS.

  They’re headed north; each road sign the van passed by had said north. Belle isn’t sure how many hours have passed. The drive has been lengthy and arduous, and they've been on the same highway for so long now. But the cramps in her legs, the tension rolling under her flesh, are all repercussions of a strain that has nothing to do with being stuck in a car for too long.

  Neither have said anything to each other.

  ‘I own you, now...’

  There is at least a body width’s of distance between them, and it should be good enough to make her calm down. It doesn’t. Nothing does when the words ‘own you’ are rolling over and over again in her head.

  Judas shuts his eyes and doesn’t stir for at least a quarter-of-an-hour.

  Maybe he’s fallen asleep…

  Belle wonders if she should take this chance to talk to her parents again, to make sure they’re okay. In a short time she will be torn away from her family, and when she’ll be able to see them again is a bleak uncertainty.

  I need to risk it. This could be the last time I see them…

  She looks over at Judas and back to her parents. Sweet little Toby is sleeping again, thankfully oblivious to what’s happening to them. Her heart hammering, she desperately wants to talk to them, but she’s too afraid of the sleeping beast beside her.

  This is her only chance.

  She opens her mouth—

  He opens his eyes again.

  So close…

  Judas continues his pensive stare at the horizon. Belle sighs quietly, making sure to keep motionless beside him. He leans over and whispers something in the driver’s ear. She isn’t close enough to hear, but it can’t be anything good. Belle rests her forehead against the window, watching as she presses her fingertips into the glass and lets go as the small dotted markings of her own unique pattern shines back at her. Sighing again, the fog of her breath mists into a clear snowball on the window.

  I’d give my life to start over…

  The van slows down as her haunting thoughts part from her. Judas is the first to break the hours of silence. “We're here." His voice resonates close, coming up against her, clearing her mind when she finds him staring at her. “Out."

  She looks away, straight ahead, hoping her hate doesn’t manifest itself too plainly. That is a sure-fire-way to give him the upper hand, and since her near future consists of his unwanted company, and his dark gaze, ambiguity is her best bet for survival.

  Her family is already being shuffled out when Judas calls to the other guy, “Luis, get them to take their suitcases but keep hers in the van.”

  Belle examines the area around them, knowing it will be unfamiliar to her. Small buildings surround them but on the right, where the van door is opened, there are trees and bushes separated only by a dumpster and some old useless cardboard boxes. It looks like some abandoned parking-lot behind a few offices or shops.

  “Belle.” The sound of her name, terse and short, coming from his mouth, sets her movements forward.

  Judas is waiting by the door and she ignores him when she passes by. His hand comes up, surprising her as the indent of his warm fingertips begins to cup her elbow. She recoils as if he burns her, immediately wiping her elbow down. The glare directed at him is one that can kill. Judas doesn’t react. He just looks down until she turns and walks over to her family, halting at his chilling words, “Say goodbye. You got five."

  Belle’s ponytail has fallen out somewhere along the way, and her hair covers her face. Strands stick to her lips as she quivers, saying out of breath, “That's not enough time."

  “It’s all you’re getting."

  “Where’re you taking them?"

  He shakes his head, his tone not budging, “You can't know."

  “Yes I can,” she replies. "Tell me where you're taking them. They're my family, for God’s sakes.” She hears her father and mother begging for her to keep quiet, but all she will allow herself to hear is the deafening echo of her anger spring to life. What right does he have to take her away from her family? “Why. Just. Me?” She comes closer, her body working on a separate engine than her mind. “What’re you going to do to them…? Are you… going to kill them? No... No…” Her voice is weak as it shatters on her last words, “I won't let you."

  Her knees knock together and threaten to plunder her. Behind her, her mother's voice calls out; it feels like miles away. Her hand comes up and leans into the car door. Head down, she doesn’t see Judas step toward her, doesn’t see him hesitate as his hands come up only to fall hard at his sides in fists.

  “Pumpkin.” Her father's soothing voice seems to break the gray inside her.

  “I'm okay,” Belle says, taking a large deep breath. “I'm okay.” She half smiles, determined to convince her father—all of them—that she isn’t going to break. “I'm okay."

  “Come here.” Her father doesn’t have to ask again. She is in his arms, wraps in him so securely, she can barely draw breath. Warm and safe, she inhales, her face buried in her father's chest. He smells like peppermint and old spice.

  He smells like home.

  “Daddy.” The first tear falls and something inside her caves in as well.

  “Shssh… Hey, Pumpkin.” He draws her away from the warm cocoon of his body to capture her face between his hands. “You listen to me. You have been so brave. I have never been more proud of anyone in my entire life—"

  “Dad.” She shakes her head to stop him. She doesn’t like the note of finality his tone carries.

  “—But right now I need you to be stronger than you've ever been. Don't try to be a hero. Don't try to save us, Pumpkin. I want you to take care of yourself. Listen to Mr. Bane, please. I can’t have anything happen to you. You’re my daughter and I love you."

  She fights the sobs building up, biting the tip of her tongue to stop the wail of anguish that rushes up at her. “I can't do this,” she admits in a whisper only they can hear. “I can't. I don't want to leave you."

  “Yes, Pumpkin. Yes you can.” There is no doubt in his words. He is so confident in her strength; she doesn’t deserve such faith.

  “I love you,” he says softly, kissing her forehead as she grips his wrists and digs her nails into the flesh, unwilling to let him go.

  He releases her face, backing away from their embrace, but her fingers cling to him. “Dad,” she cries, “Dad, don't leave me."

  Judas clears his throat. “Time’s up."

  Forcing the bile down, she rubs her nose and looks around… at nothing.

  “Tate’s not here yet. Gotta wait," the man called Luis says, nervously.

  “He will be.” She hears Judas move closer. “We gotta go."

  The touch of Judas’ fingers coming against her again sends her spiraling away from him, out of his clutches.

  “Don't you touch me,” she snarls.

  There is nothing he can do to her, no pain he can inflict that won’t hurt more than the agony she is suffering at his hands. At this point, so much is possible. He can slap her, drag her into the car, beat her until she submits. Whatever it is, she waits for it, uncaring.

  “You’re a monster.”

  “Something we can both agree on then.”

  Her chin comes up and her eyes become hazy. Instead of a sharp order, he sticks to h
is silence. He stills, licking his lips, holding her captive with his eyes. “I won't hurt you." His tone is angry but tender. “Believe me.”

  She doesn’t swallow his promise. “Believe you?” she scoffs, shaking her head. “I'm not leaving."

  He comes nearer, just a step, but enough to make her whole body feel chills. “I won't hurt you,” he repeats slower, his stare boring into her, causing the bones under her skin to spring up like an electric volt is being shot into her. She will never allow such reckless abandonment of feeling ever to impair her senses again.

  Belle raises an eyebrow, takes a large step back as she sneers and huffs at him. She'll spit nails before assuming any truth in the man—the monster—before her. Her mouth opens just as the color of his face blooms from tan to red in one hot second. She can’t misread his face this time.

  He’s mad.

  “I said I'm not going with you and I meant—”

  He advances on her so quickly, all Belle sees is a blur, and next he’s over her. “Get in the car or I'll—”

  “You'll what? Kill me? Kill my family? Kill a baby?” she spits back. “You're a low-life murdering pig and you expect me to believe you? To get in there and drive away with you. I'd rather be shot in the head first."

  “Belle—"

  “Drop dead."

  “Don't have time for this shit, we're wasting time."

  “Time? So you can send my family away and have them killed? Get the goddamn job done without exposing to anyone what a disgusting miserable excuse for a human being you really are?!"

  “That's. It."

  His hand comes down on her shoulder and his forearm wraps around the back of her legs. Her body stalls. Her anger has gotten the better of her again, and by the time she realizes what he’s doing to her, she is already hauled over his shoulder and locked in place. Her wiggling is useless in the strong binding of his arms, but it doesn't stop her from trying though.

  “Don't hurt her… please.” She hears her mother’s muffled plea between sobs. “Please just let her be... She's a good girl, really… Please let her stay with us."

  He hoists her up for a firmer hold, jerking his body in her family's direction. “When Tate gets here, get them in and out of here. No stops, yeah?"