Stolen by Truths

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Stolen by Truths Page 12

by Ella Miles


  Kai takes a seat, and the blood in my veins is fire—I’m going to burn from the inside out.

  “Open your mouth,” Milo says, with a cocky grin.

  She opens automatically, but her eyes tell me she isn’t here.

  And in that moment, I’m happy. I don’t want her to feel fear or pain. Keep it turned off.

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes as Milo hovers over Kai. I can’t watch this. I can’t watch him touch her without killing him right now and dooming us all. Because one thing I learned while captured by Milo is he has allies. Ones that would avenge his death in an instant. And he has a number two to take his place, but I don’t know who he is yet.

  “You don’t get to close your eyes,” Liesel says next to me.

  My eyes fly open. “It’s the only way I can get through this.”

  “No, it’s not, and you know it. Keep your damn eyes open.”

  I turn toward Kai and watch as Milo inserts the pliers and begins to pull. I expect for her to react, but she doesn’t. I don’t know how she turns her ability to feel off like that, but it’s both a gift and curse. I just hope she can find herself again when this is all over.

  He pulls and jerks. I wince and the whole room gasps at the sight of the blood filling her mouth. But she doesn’t even squeeze the armrests of the chair. She’s as calm as if she were sitting there drinking coffee.

  “You don’t deserve her,” Liesel says, crossing her arms as she glares at me.

  “I know.”

  “Then save her; set her free.”

  “I can’t do that. This is me setting her free.”

  Liesel shakes her head. “You’re an idiot. You know that, right?”

  “Fuck off, Liesel.”

  She smiles. “I’m going to enjoy her torturing you. Because my money is on you breaking long before she does.”

  13

  Kai

  I feel nothing.

  Not the pull of my tooth.

  Not the menacing touch from Milo as he grabs my jaw.

  Not the look from Enzo begging me to stop.

  Nothing.

  At least until I taste the blood. The blood wakes me up and reminds me of what is at stake.

  My life.

  Enzo’s life.

  And the lives of everyone who works for Black or has come to need the empire for protection.

  I spit out the blood onto the floor and then get the hell out of the chair before Milo decides the trauma wasn’t enough and he needs to pull another tooth.

  The fog lifts a little, and I look over at Enzo who looks white with rage. You can stop this. Just say the word, and all of this ends, I send to him.

  And then I spot Liesel. She might be the only one truly on my side, but I don’t know what her motivations are.

  Milo wants to destroy me.

  Enzo wants to save me.

  Langston wants to protect me.

  And Liesel wants me to kick all of these guys’ asses. I can tell from the smirk and wink she gives me when I get out of the chair.

  I can win this, I know I can, but at what cost?

  And is winning going to actually help me? I have no idea. But I will keep playing until I know the answer.

  I know that getting a tooth pulled hurts. I remember back to when I was ten and had to have a tooth pulled. Dad pulled it because it had a cavity, and we supposedly couldn’t afford a dentist. It was a baby tooth, but it still hurt like a motherfucker since it wasn’t loose.

  Getting a permanent tooth pulled hurts.

  The amount of blood and swelling in my mouth should be enough to clue me into the pain, even though I barely feel anything.

  But Enzo didn’t feel anything either. He may have pretended to cry and wail like a baby, but that’s not him. He has a silent power to him. If he felt the pain, he would internalize it so only I would feel it with him. He wouldn’t vocalize his pain until he’d been tortured for hours and needed a release.

  Something is going on, and I’m not the only one who notices it. But this game comes with no rules. So whatever Enzo’s secret to feeling nothing is, it doesn’t matter, because it won’t change anything.

  “Would anyone like to surrender before the next round starts?” Archard asks, looking between Enzo and me.

  I spit out more blood—the iron taste oozing over my tongue. God, I hate the taste of blood.

  I glare at Archard for even asking me if I am going to surrender. I surrendered to let Milo take Enzo; I’m not going to give up again.

  Enzo growls at Archard.

  Archard rubs his neck. “Sorry for asking.” He looks at Milo, and I know it’s my turn to get cut.

  I brace myself for Milo’s touch more than for the cut of the knife. Last round he took a torturously long time. I can’t handle that again.

  This time though, that’s not on Milo’s agenda. He walks up to me with the knife at his side. I try not to pay it any attention as he walks, but my eyes dart down to the shiny metal still covered in mine and Enzo’s blood from the last time.

  Milo grabs my shoulder, and unlike Enzo’s touch that burns in the best possible way, his touch electrocutes me making me powerless to what he’s going to do next. And then I feel the jab of the knife into my stomach, taking my breath away.

  I cough from the sudden intrusion and look down at the knife still in my body. Somehow it feels like the knife doubled in size since the last time, but I know the sudden sharp pain is just from where he stabbed me and how forcefully he did it.

  Milo grins at my reaction as I cough again, trying to regain my breath before he removes the knife. He spins it around, my blood flinging from the edge. He then tosses it at Langston who catches it expertly as he stands next to Enzo.

  Langston gives Enzo no warning as he thrusts the knife into his stomach in the same way Milo did to me. It has the same effect on Enzo as it did to me. It knocks the wind from Enzo’s lungs. Langston is done playing around. He wants this over as much as Milo does.

  “This is the third round and will involve water,” Archard says. He pulls out his phone, texts someone, and two men enter with a large vat of water.

  Fuck you, father. Fuck you. When I’m finished with these stupid games, I’m going to hunt him down and kill him. I don’t care if I promised that he could live. I want him dead for coming up with such twisted games.

  “Your head will be held under the water three times, each time longer than the first. I won’t tell you how long you will be held under, but I will time you and signal to your tormentor when the time is up. Kai, you will go first. If you would like to stop at any time, simply hold your hand up,” Archard says.

  I don’t wait for Milo to order me around this time. I walk over to the large trough and kneel in front of it. I hate the water after six years of torment on the ocean. But I’ve gotten over my fear. Enzo helped me. I can do this. It’s all about remaining calm and blocking everything out.

  I clear my thoughts and go back to my quiet, calm place.

  Milo approaches from behind, and I don’t react. I feel his hand on my neck, but the pain is gone. I’ve shut him out.

  “You need to end this, now,” Milo says in my ear.

  Don’t let him goad you. He’s just trying to mess with your head.

  Sure enough, he plunges my head into the water before I can react. I didn’t even have time to take a breath.

  And as much as I want to remain calm, I can’t because my lungs are burning, already begging for oxygen. I grab the edge of the trough as my body starts flailing, trying to get out of the water—but maybe I need to react? I need Enzo to stop this game. And he only will if he sees me in pain.

  So I let the pain swoop over me. I let myself feel. And for once, I don’t hate it. Because it sparks my rage, and I know that feeling this way is what it’s going to take to find a way out of this mess.

  My mouth opens, and I inhale some of the water in a search for air. All of the work Enzo did to help me get over the fear of the water is going to co
me raging back after this.

  My lungs begin to fill with water instead of oxygen, and I’m afraid whatever ridiculous amount of time my father set for this task is going to be too much. I’m going to drown.

  But just as I don’t think I can take it anymore, my head is released, and I’m out of the confines of the water.

  I cough violently, water expelling from my lungs. I can feel Enzo’s eyes on me, and then he races over to comfort me.

  I put up a hand, stopping Enzo. I don’t want his comfort right now.

  Enzo stops in his tracks. “Are you okay, Kai?”

  I don’t answer. I am anything but okay. But it’s not enough for me to surrender and lose the game.

  I feel Milo’s hands on my neck, and this time, I’m more prepared for it. I take a deep breath just before my head plunges under. The first few seconds are easier this time as I have a reserve of oxygen to keep me calm.

  But then the familiar panic of my lungs washes over me again. And again, I let it. Enzo was already beginning to crack. And although the panic sucks, I know this time I’m going to live. I’m not going to stay under so long that I’m going to drown. I’m going to survive this. So even though my lungs panic, my mind doesn’t.

  My head feels the air again, and I cough up the water that snuck in. But before I can register anything, my head plunges under again.

  More pain.

  More panic.

  More anxiety.

  Longer and longer my head is under the water. But I feel like I could do this all day. And this is the last time.

  The last time seems like the shortest, even though I was told it was the longest.

  And when I break for the surface again, I suck in a deep breath of oxygen without having to cough this time. As if each time I was under my body adjusted more and more to the water.

  I stare down at the water in front of me. You are not my enemy. The man gripping my hair is.

  I stand up, and Liesel tosses me a towel that I begin to dry off with.

  I look at Enzo who is panicked, but not for his turn, for me.

  I wink at him. “I hope you have a good pair of lungs on you.”

  Enzo’s face softens a little, and I don’t know why I made this easier on him.

  Langston and Enzo take Milo and my’s place as I stand next to Liesel trying to dry off and remove the memories of being underwater from my brain.

  But when Langston pushes Enzo’s head under, I freak out as I watch his calm turn to panic.

  “It wasn’t that bad when you were in the water. Remember how it felt. Enzo has this,” comes Liesel’s calm voice.

  I clinch the towel to my face, not sure if he’s going to survive the dunking in the water.

  “He’s going to drown. I have to stop this,” I whisper.

  “No, he’s not. He thought the same thing watching you. But the time goes by quickly. It’s harder to watch than to go through it,” Liesel tries to reassure me.

  Finally, on Archard’s signal, Langston lets Enzo’s head up.

  “God, I can’t do this two more times,” I say, feeling tears threaten.

  “You are a badass. Don’t you dare lose because you can’t watch your man get a little wet,” Liesel whispers so only I can hear in her strongest voice.

  Enzo coughs and then his head goes back under.

  I count to myself trying to distract myself.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  When I get to a hundred, I lose it.

  I start pacing, unable to watch anymore.

  Milo smirks, thinking I’m going to lose on this round.

  “Fuck you,” I curse, not caring that by showing him how this is affecting me he’s winning.

  “Gladly,” he says back.

  I tug at my hair to keep from killing him.

  And then I hear Enzo’s breath as his lungs fill with air when Langston lets him up. Only one more. Enzo can do this. I can do this.

  Langston barely lets Enzo catch his breath before he shoves him underwater again. And this time I feel it all.

  Enzo’s lungs fill with water this time, as he didn’t take a good breath before going under. They burn despite whatever is pumping through his veins to keep the pain away. The feel of his lungs panicking overrides the drugs. Trying to tell him to reach the surface and breathe. But Enzo doesn’t have any say in the matter.

  Just stay calm. It’s almost over.

  But Enzo can’t stay calm. Not when he’s running out of his precious oxygen. His legs tremble, and his arms push against the edge, trying to break free of Langston’s hold. But Langston holds him firm, watching Archard intently for the signal, and I feel Langston’s panic too. He’s not so sure Enzo has this.

  I feel Enzo’s heart beating quickly, racing to try to spread what little oxygen he has through his body.

  I bite my lip to keep from screaming as I stare at Archard, but I know he still has several seconds left.

  Come on, Enzo. Relax. Let go.

  Finally, after what feels like hours, Archard gives the signal. Langston doesn’t just let go this time; he jerks Enzo up by the back of his shirt. Enzo falls lifeless to the floor.

  I run to him, but Liesel grabs me to keep me from being consumed with the pain.

  “Help him!” I scream.

  Langston kneels down and starts performing CPR. He pushes hard on his chest, but Enzo doesn’t move.

  My hands go over my face as I watch him. He can’t drown. He can’t die.

  But Enzo Black is human, just like all of us. And in this moment, I’ve never realized just how human he really is.

  “Dammit, fucking cough,” Langston says, pushing harder on his chest.

  Enzo finally coughs up the water, and I see his lungs rise and fall.

  Langston sits back on his ankles. “Thank fuck.”

  I let the tear I’ve been holding in loose. And Enzo’s eyes go straight to the tear. I don’t know who got hurt worse with him almost drowning—him or me.

  But this stupid round got to us in a way the previous rounds didn’t. And I don’t think my heart can last too many more.

  14

  Enzo

  I don’t know what happened. I must have blacked out. And I woke up with Langston pressing hard on my chest and Kai’s voice screaming with tears in her eyes.

  Fuck, I have to get my shit together if I’m going to survive this game.

  Langston puts his hand out, and I take it slowly, getting up.

  Liesel tosses me a towel with a scowl, obviously thinking my almost death moment was an act like the previous round. It wasn’t. I just lost focus and passed out. But as much as I want to win, I won’t lose control like that again.

  I dry my hair and face off, trying to recompose myself before looking at Kai again. She looks like she can’t decide between killing and fucking me.

  Fuck my life. Why can’t I just have a normal life where when a woman wants to fuck me, I get to fuck her?

  Archard clears his throat and then hands the knife to Langston to start the next round. Fuck that stupid knife. The first few times were painless, but the longer this goes, the more the drugs are going to wear out of my system.

  Langston goes easy on me this time though, barely slicing my bicep, and I don’t feel a thing. My eyes are still focused on Kai and her worried face.

  End this. Please, I can’t watch you suffer.

  Langston tosses the knife hard to Milo, who barely avoids it crashing into his body. Instead, it bounces on the floor before he picks it up.

  Go easy on her, I plead. Her shield is down from watching me almost drown.

  But of course, he doesn’t. He stabs her in the chest right over her heart. Thank God the blade is too short to reach her heart and do any real damage.

  But she gasps, and her face twists—the stabbing amplifies the pain she’s already feeling in her heart. She sucks in air, trying to breathe through the pain, but a low moan escapes her throat.

  Fuck me.


  I can’t watch this.

  Milo finally pulls the knife out, and I have to look away to keep from throwing her over my shoulder and getting her the hell out of here.

  “This round is simple,” Archard starts.

  Shit, nothing about this is simple.

  “Your shoulder is to be dislocated.”

  I sigh—easy my ass.

  I’ve had my shoulder dislocated before. Not when I was expecting it, but in the heat of a fight. The pain will rip through you, but it’s the pain of putting it back that hurts worse.

  Worst of all, it’s a physical act. Milo is going to have to touch Kai to dislocate her shoulder. I’m going to have to watch him break her. And I don’t know if I can.

  Kai notices my hesitation and raises an eyebrow as if to say if you’re going to bow out, do it before you have your shoulder dislocated you idiot. But then, I’ve never been very smart.

  Langston walks over to me and gives me one look to prepare me. Fuck, this is going to hurt like hell because of the wound in both of my shoulders. It doesn’t matter which one he dislocates.

  I close my eyes and tense my body as he grabs my left wrist and throws it behind my body, applying just the right amount of pressure. We’ve tortured men before and know exactly how to dislocate a shoulder.

  With one quick pop, my shoulder is out.

  But I don’t feel a damn thing—fucking drugs. I should be in tears or cursing up a storm right now. I should be making Kai worried for me. This blow, after almost drowning, would have been enough to break her. Instead, I can’t even fake being in pain.

  Langston looks to Archard, “When can I pop it back in place?”

  “When the game is over.”

  I hold my dislocated left shoulder loosely in my right arm, knowing if it’s still dislocated when the drugs wear off it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker.

  And then I look at Kai, trying to decide if I’m going to let her go through the pain.

  She just winks at me. She’s had her shoulder dislocated before.

  I shake my head. Of course, she has. She’s been through more pain than anything else.

 

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