by B C Morgan
“Why?” It’s a whisper, but it doesn’t hide the hurt or confusion that is spiralling through me.
Her hand slides into her leather boot and pulls a pocket knife out of it. Great, more knife games. I guess this is why Finley likes her.
“Do they ever check your bindings?” She asks, leaning in close enough that I can smell her perfume and feel her breath brushing against my ear.
I shake my head and pull slightly to show her why it would be a pointless endeavour for them to want too.
“Good, this is for you beautiful. I’ll get it started and when it’s time, all you’ll have to do is pull and it should give way. Don’t attempt it too soon though, if they catch you trying to run again, they’ll kill you on the spot,” she says as she cuts at the ties and somewhere on the rope before slipping the knife in the waistband of my shorts.
“I don’t understand,” she’s close enough that I don’t have to worry that she won’t hear my whisper but I still try and recoil when she drops a kiss on my cheek.
“Devon figured out who had you and Amias told him of my history with Finley, he thinks I’m finally going to spread my legs for him. He’s got another thing coming, Harrison is alive and we’re getting you out of here. I’m sorry it isn’t happening now Henleigh, but we have to time it just right,” she says as she brushes her fingers across my cheek and my tears fall free.
I’m covered in blood, sweat and there’s no point lying to myself, my own piss. It isn’t like they let me out to go to the toilet, I stink, hurt and no doubt my wounds are infected. Is there even anything left to save?
ANOTHER WEEK and nothing has happened, I just sit here waiting for one of them to hit me although I prefer that to what Finley has started doing.
“Damn girl you reek, let me help you out with that,” he says and I squeeze my eyes shut, oh yeah I’d prefer a pistol whip over this.
The hose is being turned on by Dante while Finley is pointing it right at me. If it’s anything like the last time, then it will be ice cold and as much force as he can throw at me.
I hate it when I’m right, my teeth are chattering like nobody’s business and I’m utterly drenched and a shaking mess. I cannot hold still and my entire body feels as though it’s been gone over with a sledgehammer.
“I think it’s time Dante, begin the process. I’m ready to drain this bitch dry,” he says as he looks me over before climbing up the stairs. I expect him to walk through and disappear but he isn’t, what is he going to do?
No.
Ivy comes tumbling down the stairs, her face black and blue and she’s barely recognisable beneath all the bruising. She isn’t awake, that is probably her one and only saving grace, but if they know she’s against them, why do I still have the pocket knife?
Dante is placing a space heater in front of me, I’m not even going to try and attempt to understand him. The truth is more than likely horrifying in its own right so I think I’ll stay in my oblivious little bubble for just a little longer.
“Half an hour pretty girl, and then the countdown to your final breath will begin. It will be rather…unpleasant for you,” he says, and I think I can finally pluck up the courage to look at him once more.
“What will happen?” Do I really want to know, oh well, he probably won’t answer anyway.
“They want it to happen slowly, I’ll fit a tourniquet around both of your arms once you have warmed up enough to get your blood flowing more freely and then I’ll place an IV line into your veins. As you begin to lose more blood, you will start to develop symptoms of haemorrhaging shock, they will start off mild at first and then grow more severe the longer it continues for,” maybe I should let him finish there, but I’ve never even heard of haemorrhaging shock before, and inquiring minds have to know. Besides, I’d rather know what will happen to me if I can’t get myself out of here.
“What are the symptoms,” my voice is raspy and only slightly above a whisper, but I think it’s due to the lack of fluids rather than lasting damage. Not that I’m an expert or it's even that important anymore, what is the loss of a voice compared to the loss of my life. Ivy is down here now, I can’t just leave her behind and I know I would never get the chance to get us both out of here.
“You’ll start by feeling dizzy, you’ll get a headache and feel nauseous and you’ll suffer from fatigue and possibly the sweats. As it progresses, your heart rate will become more rapid and your skin can become cold or clammy. You’ll start to feel confused and lightheaded and your pulse will weaken as your breathing becomes faster but also shallower. You’ll eventually lose consciousness, that is the most you can hope for. You will suffer but at least you’ll be out of it by the time you die from the loss,” he starts pulling out medical equipment and laying it on the tray. I guess he's getting ready to start and I don’t have the strength to try and get away.
They’ve done it, I’ve lost the will, I am prepared to just roll over and die. Goodbye, you fucked up little world.
AN HOUR HAS PASSED or at least I think it has, my head feels fuzzy and it’s hard to concentrate on anything.
“Henleigh,” a mumble is coming from somewhere, I guess Ivy is waking up. That’s a shame I was hoping she wouldn’t be awake to see me die.
She’s crawling over and reaching for the pocket knife. While my head is lolling around, I haven’t got the strength to support it any longer.
“Hang in just a little longer,” I can’t even work out the tone of her voice, everything is beyond my comprehension.
She grips hold of the IV and pulls it from me, but I’m so far gone I think she may be too late.
“Just a few more minutes, please Henleigh. Harry is going to kill me,” she’s mumbling or am I just losing focus? I have no idea.
The ground shakes as a heat engulfs my back and dust rains down upon us, I can’t lift my head to see what’s going on. But my ears are ringing from the deafening noise and I can hear Dante shouting as he charges down the stairs. I tilt my head to the side to see Ivy thrust the pocket knife into his thigh.
He hisses, but that’s all he does as he backhands her across the face. She stumbles back, but someone stops her from falling. My vision is turning hazy and the edges are turning black. Am I dying or am I already dead?
“Little Hen, I have you,” I’m picked up and held against a warm chest with tree trunks for arms wrapping around me, enclosing me and keeping me safe.
“Burn it to the ground,” he orders and a “no,” slips from my lips.
“She’s lost a lot of blood,” I hear Ivy say as she comes closer and a growl reverberates through the chest I’m pressed against.
“Don’t kill him, don’t deserve it,” it’s all I can get out but I hope he’ll listen, if he’s real that is.
I still think I’m dead and this is nothing but purgatory preparing me for my final resting place, I’m going to hell I know it.
“If you burn it down she’ll lose the last piece of her brother,” comes from Dante, why is his voice the only one I can pinpoint and recognise?
“Restrain him and Finley, let’s see how they like being tied to a chair. I’ll be back to deal with them later. Come on, little Hen, we need to get you to our doctor. God damn fucking Stockholm,” strange funny words, mmm sleep now. I wonder if I’ll ever wake back up?
THREE
TEN DAYS LATER
I’M NOT sure where I am, I’ve been in and out of it a lot lately and it isn’t getting any easier. I’m not in a hospital, this bed is too comfy, and it doesn’t smell as sterile as it should. It’s clean but if I’m not in a hospital then where am I? That isn’t the right question though, is it? why do I ask myself questions? I’m crazy. My inner voice is a genius though, because the question I should be asking is why am I here? Shouldn’t I be dead?
“Little Hen,” that nickname does nothing more than bring tears to my eyes and they are falling instantly. How is he here?
My throat is dry and scratchy and he’s quickly at my side with a glass of water. This cannot be
real and what the fuck happened to Dante and Fin if it is.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he says, brushing the hair away from my face and sets the glass back on my bedside table.
“Where am I?” I ask, the water has helped but my head is pounding like a drum and I don’t want to risk making it worse by talking loudly.
“You’re at... lets just say my place. You’re safe here, they won’t hurt you again. It is all taken care of,” his words are supposed to settle me, I think, but they are having the opposite effect.
“What did you do?” I don’t need a scratchy throat to make my words sound harsh, my tone, and I’m sure the flames shooting from my eyes have that covered all by themselves.
“Hey, take it easy, little sister. He’s still alive if that’s what you’re thinking, but it’s only because you asked me to keep it that way. This has a time limit though, he will get what is coming to him, he deserves that and so much more,” he’s getting angry I can tell by the veins throbbing in his skull and snaking over his arms.
“I want to see him, I don’t care about Finley but please Devy do not kill anyone. I can’t bear to have anymore deaths in my life, our brothers were more than enough,” I can’t look at him as I say this, it’s too hard. My head is leaning against the pillow with my eyes squeezed shut.
“I cannot make you that promise, but there are a lot of ways to make them pay that will let them keep their miserable lives. Look, I don’t know why you want to see him but I won’t refuse you. You will not be alone with him though, I will not be swayed from this decision,” his fingers glide across my cheek and I can’t help but flinch away, I don’t want to be touched by anyone.
“Can I choose who will be in there with me?” It chokes out of me as I open my eyes and try to bring myself to meet his. Why can’t I do this?
“Who do you want little Hen?” His tone is gentle, and it doesn’t seem possible that he can sound this way, he shouldn’t be able to be soft and gentle.
“Noah or H, no one else,” I say, before rolling onto my side and saying goodbye to him without the use of words.
TWO MORE DAYS and he’s back in my room, I didn’t think I’d want to be alone after my time in the basement but it’s the opposite. The thought of being around anyone fills me with dread and the reprieve has been nothing more than heaven sent. His entire being fills the doorframe and I cannot see past him. Is he alone or has someone joined him this time?
My heart is beating erratically within my chest, it feels tight and it is hard to catch my breath. The thought that someone could be behind him is terrifying, I hate this person that I am becoming.
“Are you alone?” My voice is shaking like a leaf, as is the rest of me. Please be alone Devy, I don't know what I’ll do otherwise.
“No little sister, I have Noah with me,” he sounds angry as he says that name, what is his problem with Noah, he’s amazing.
“I can’t, please Devy,” great and now I’m begging along with the quivering, I feel so pathetic.
“Leighbear,” oh that voice, it's like a balm to my nerves, but it only soothes the edges; it can’t reach the damage that is running through me.
“Don’t come near me Noah please I beg you, if you come over here I’ll want to be held by you and I can’t bear to be touched,” Just admitting that feels like a gut punch and as though I’ve jumped from the highest ledge right into a pool of bubbling lava.
His face looks devastated but I think it is for me instead of for himself, he knows he cannot fix this and I’m not sure I can either.
“We can go and see Dante now, if that’s what you want, little Hen. He’s still in your old home but I’ve had him moved out of the basement so it won’t be too much for you,” Devon says, he looks a little green. He does not want this to happen, he wants me to stay far away from Dante and probably that house.
I can’t bring myself to look at them, I just need to go into the bathroom wherever the fuck that is and get dressed. I need to go, I need to see Dante and then I’ll get my head tested.
THIS CAR RIDE is tense and feels more awkward than it did when Elijah and his mum took me to the prison so I could confront Devon. It’s surreal sitting here in the back of the car with Noah and he’s being extra careful to not touch me or get too close in case the car throws him my way.
Devy is with us but he doesn’t do cars anymore, instead he’s on his bike leading the car to my old home. I know how to get there without a guide, but I’m not the one in control, I’m just along for the ride. Even if it is of my own creation, Dante is alive because of me and I doubt he even cares. Knowing him, being dead or alive will mean the same thing for him.
“We’re here,” says the intense motherfucker in the driver’s seat, I know Noah wants to take my hand and lend me his strength but all I can do is fold my hands together and hold them tightly against my stomach.
We leave the car and I’m not going to waste anytime second guessing myself, I’m good to go. Only the scream escaping me as Devon lays his hand on my shoulder has me falling apart as I fall to the ground and curl myself up into a ball. It’s too much. All I can see is Dante and Finley’s face swimming through my mind. I feel utterly wrecked and I don’t know if I will ever be okay with being touched again.
“Fuck!” He screams as he paces back and forth and tugs at his hair, hard.
“Don’t touch me,” I say quietly as I get back up to my feet so I can open the door and come face to face with the guy who I was certain would be my killer.
I don’t know what to do, I need to get through this but I’m a wreck. One blow from caving in and maybe I’ll shatter so bad that nothing could ever make me whole again. This line of thinking is not helping right now though, I just need to take deep breaths and find my composure.
“He’s in the master bedroom, I didn’t think you’d want him in yours or Elliott’s. I know I fucking didn’t,” he says thickly as he storms off back over to his bike and instead of climbing on, he sends his foot into the side of the car that brought us here.
“I’m ready,” I say as I square my shoulders, ignoring the twinge that shoots through me because of the movement.
Noah is saying something but I cannot hear anything through the water rushing over my ears, I can’t make out any of his words as my vision darkens around the edges and I get full on tunnel vision.
My hand is running along the banister, I used to do it all the time and El would try to stop me by scaring me with the threat of splinters. I never got them and I doubt I will now, but the memory makes me want to smile and cry at the same time.
I need to clear my head, but it doesn’t matter. I just need to make it to the master bedroom and confront Dante, I don’t plan on ever seeing him again after this. I push open the door and my breath lodges in my throat as I take in the state of him.
His lip is fat and split, he’s sporting two black eyes, a broken nose if the swelling is anything to go by and he has dried blood all over him.
“Hey pretty girl, I was not expecting to see you coming through that door,” he says before coughing blood out and spitting it onto the floor.
“I have a question that I need to know the answer to, and please no bullshit,” I say as I wrap my arms around my stomach to protect myself from the chill that is coursing through me.
“Go for it pretty girl, what do I have to lose,” he says monotonously, but the ice within him has nothing on the iciness that now consumes me.
“Did you kill Elliott?” I won’t take my eyes off him, I need him to be looking me head on when he gives me his answer.
“I drove the van into the side of the car and I stood beside him as he spoke yours and Damon’s name and took his last breath. But I wasn’t the one who placed my hand over his mouth and held his nose closed. I was the catalyst and he probably would have died from his injuries, but no, I did not kill Elliott. Do what you want but I was paid a great deal of money to never reveal who they were, I won’t go back on that,” he says and I believe him a
nd I also know that I won’t get that name out of him no matter what I or Devon do.
“I know I’m going to die here and I failed in killing you, but do you remember what I said as Devon took you away from the basement?”
I can’t take my eyes off him. He said something. No, I can’t remember, I cannot remember a damn thing that happened once he started to bleed me. What more can I do but shake my head.
“Your brother had a loose floorboard in his room, I found it and discovered a journal. I haven’t read it, there was very little interest to be stirred within me, but maybe you will want to,” he says, smiling with a mouth that is much too wide to be considered friendly.
I can’t be here any longer, what I need is to get this diary and walk away. From this house, this city and the people within. I think I need a fresh start, build some new memories and replace all the bad ones that are swimming through me. Oh yes, I can’t do this anymore, I need to get away.
I can’t do much more than stumble from the room, Noah is trying to soothe me but I know he feels helpless. There isn’t anything he can say or do to make this all okay, I’m not me anymore, I’m different now. I can’t bear to be touched, not after what Finley did. I can’t even think about it right now. I know it could have been worse, they could have killed my soul in so many horrific ways but for me, what they did was plenty and there’s no coming back from that.
I want Finley dead, but if I say this to Devy, he will make it happen. I don’t know what kind of gang he is in, but I know he has very few limits on what he will do to protect or avenge the people he cares about. I can’t have that on my conscience, I just can’t.
“What can I do?” Noah asks, he’s breaking my heart, why does he have to be so perfect?
“Don’t follow me and stop anyone else from doing so,” I say quietly as I walk into El’s room and close the door.
I COULDN’T BRING myself to do anything more than grab the diary and get the hell away from that godforsaken place. What am I doing? I mean I know I’m sitting on the edge of the bed that is apparently mine for as long as I want it—Devy does not want me to leave—staring at this diary that could either raise more questions or answer the ones that are swimming around my mind and drowning my senses. That isn’t the answer I’m looking for though, what I need to figure out is what I am doing with my life?