How the Mind Breaks: A Dark Psychological Romance

by Dani René

  “I don’t think so, Tia. You need to pay—”

  “Any amount. I have money. Please, just—”

  “Shut up! You’re not paying in cash. You’re paying with blood,” I hiss in her ear. Another shudder of fear wracks her body, and she cries out when I slide the metal down the side of her cheek. A prickle of red leaks from her tanned skin.

  A tiny slit, but the trickle of blood is so pretty. So perfect. “Why are you doing this?” Her questions are grating on my nerves, scraping and clawing against me. I take a step back and grab the cloth lying on the table and stuff it in her mouth. Muffled cries now echo in the expansive space. It’s almost sunset, but the deep orange of the sun’s rays shines through the dark blinds on the one window to my right. This was the only place I could bring her without getting noticed. This abandoned warehouse which is an enormous building on the wrong side of the tracks. Nobody will find her here, since no one knows my father owns them. His name isn’t on the deeds.

  It’s cooling as the sun settles on the horizon. The apartment itself is bare besides the small sofa and cardboard boxes against the wall—with no heating. Her body shivers, and I know it’s a mix of fear and cold.

  The sounds of steps near me catch my attention, and when I glance up, I see my man. The one who helped me.

  “Is our guest comfortable?” he asks.

  When she stills, I know she’s recognized his voice, but she can’t say anything, thankfully.

  “She is, for now,” I inform him with a smirk.

  He reaches out and strokes her cheek lightly, and she flinches away.

  “Hello, Tia,” he murmurs against her ear. “You look lovely all tied up. You didn’t tell me you enjoyed it, or I would have done it to you instead of your sister every time I needed release.”

  Jealousy, unbidden, flares to life, shooting through me. Why is it always her? What is so fucking special about her? “Are you going to stand there all day and taunt her?” Dark eyes pierce me when he places a hand on my throat.

  “Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want her to watch us?” Images of what he’s asking flit through my mind like a dirty movie. My mind is fucked up. Everything I’ve endured makes me want that. I want someone to be rough, to tie me up, and to hurt me. I get off on that shit, and so does he. So I nod.

  He reaches over and snatches the blindfold off her face. Eyes bulge when she looks between us. Those pretty blue eyes glare at him, but it’s when her gaze settles on me, that’s when recognition appears. It’s a slow burning flame which teases just behind those baby blues.

  Lifting one side of my mouth, I glare at her as the smirk forms in slow motion on my face. The hand gripping my neck tightens, seizing my attention from the woman I spent my life in competition with. Even when I was held captive, there was nothing but her. They spoke of her all the time. Told me how much prettier she was, how she would have made them more money.

  “Hello, Tia,” I murmur again, meeting her angry, shocked glare. “How are you, little sister?”

  “Enough family fun.” A deep rumble comes from the man who has me in a chokehold. “Let’s play.” He drags me over to the sofa, and I feel her eyes on me. Burning me. Boring into me like a drill bit, inch by motherfucking inch.

  He reaches for my tank top and tugs it off, so rough it tears down the front. My bare breasts are at his mercy as he lunges forward, taking a pebbled bud into his mouth. My fingers rake through his unruly chocolate curls as I hold him to my chest.

  Glancing over, I watch my little sister pierce me with intensity unlike anything ever. His mouth moves to the other nipple, suckling and biting down enough to earn him my whimpers. Already, his hands are fumbling with my jeans. A hiss of the zipper and the whoosh of them traveling down my slim legs are the only sounds around us besides him sucking on my flesh.

  Muffled pleas fall on deaf ears as his deft fingers find my clit, circling it. He teases his digits into my core, pumping in and out at a mind-altering pace. It’s so slow, and all I want is a fast and furious fuck.

  When he finally unlatches his mouth from my breasts, he glances at her, at the woman who shares my bloodline, and smirks. “Your sister tastes so much better than you ever did, Tia.” An evil grin curls on his lips as he spins me around, bending me over the arm of the sofa. We both have an incredible view of her face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  In one swift move, his cock impales me. Fully seated, he stills for a moment. “And her cunt is so tight around me. I’m so glad I didn’t waste my time on you.” He pulls out and drives back in, harder, rougher, and when he tugs my hair, pulling me up against his chest, he hisses in my ear, “You’re mine, aren’t you, Belle?”

  I can’t help mewling my answer. “Yes, I’m all yours, Ryker.”

  Tia

  The Past

  Memories of what happened flit through my thoughts.

  Ryker in my apartment, wanting to talk.

  I poured a drink, he finished his beer, and mine . . .

  I don’t remember. Why can’t I remember?

  He drugged me. He must have.

  And now I’m here.

  My mind races, as if there’s something twirling inside it. My psychologist told me this would happen because of what I witnessed as a child. I retreated to a safe place in order to cope with the trauma. She explained my mind isn’t right. It doesn’t work like others.

  Paracosm.

  One word that means nothing to others, but means everything to me. My heart thuds. My body tenses. It hurts. Everything hurts. Only Braxton made it okay. Only he fixed me. Now, I’m here, thrown back into the world I escaped.

  My father told me I was broken. He couldn’t auction me to others; he had to deal with me. That’s when it first happened. When it all went to shit.

  I found out what happened that day. The day my mother drowned in a pool of blood. My mind was locked away. Hidden in the world I created. There, I was safe. It was only there that I was a normal little girl. Where she was. My friend, my enemy, the other half of who I am.

  You see, my father, Miguel Alvarez, is a monster, and I vowed to kill him.

  But this . . . this doesn’t make sense. Belle is my sister. How can she want to hurt me? What did I do? Dad told me she had to go away for school. And, of course, I believed the lies. But what could have happened to her to make her act like this?

  It’s dark inside my world, my mind. She’s not here.

  Where are you?

  I’m here. Now that Mr. Perfect isn’t here, you need me?

  Please, I need to get out of here.

  You’ve fucked it, Tia. This is how you die. How we die.

  No, you have to help me.

  I can’t. Not this time.

  My eyes meet Ryker’s, the man who was in my bed, but thankfully, never in my body, or my heart. I never loved him, but for a moment I cared. Isn’t that enough? I’m watching my sister get fucked by my ex-boyfriend. “You see this, Tia? He wants me. Not you.” Her words slice me. Not that I want Ryk, but the venom she spits them with pains me. Nothing but hatred coats her tone, and I can’t imagine what I could have done to make her have so much anger and animosity toward me.

  It’s all your fault.

  You’re the perfect one.

  You’re the one they choose.

  The taunting starts, and my head aches, throbbing painfully, dragging me into the darkness of my mind. My medication. She doesn’t know I need my pills. My eyes flutter closed; my mind flits to Brax. I wonder if he knows I’m gone. Does he even realize that something’s happened to me?

  Hands grip my face, and my eyes fly open to find Ryk staring at me. “Didn’t like that, did you? Seeing my dick hard for someone else. All the months I was with you, it wasn’t real. The worst time of my life, acting like this” — his big, rough hand cups my pussy through the thin yoga pants — “made me want you. Every time I was near you, I pictured her.” He points to Belle. “That’s why I could never bring myself to fuck you.”

  My mout
h is still gagged by the cloth, and I can’t answer him. I can’t tell him I hate him. That I’m in love with Braxton. But all my words die on my tongue. Bile rises, filling my mouth with a sour taste, and tears spring to my eyes. He thinks it’s because of what he said because the satisfied look on his face tells me so.

  He’s going to hurt you now.

  No, please, don’t let him. Take me away. We can go to the candy store. I beg of you, please.

  I’m leaving you now, little girl. It’s time you grow up and fight your own battles.

  Deep-rooted fear hits me when I feel a cold sting on my flesh. A shimmering blade slices down my middle. It doesn’t break the skin, only my clothing. A cold rush of air hits my now naked body, and Ryker steps back to regard his work.

  “This body of yours will be so fucked up that your little boyfriend will never want you again. He’ll look at you with disgust. Does he even know what you did when you were younger? How you used to fuck all those men? Belle told me about it.”

  He glances at my sister who’s sitting on the sofa, clad in her small leather skirt and Ryker’s T-shirt, with a cigarette in her plump lips, billowing white smoke around her, making her look scarier than she did earlier.

  I can’t respond, and I resign myself to the fact that there’s nothing I can do. “Did you like it?” he sneers. “I bet you loved the attention, all those filthy fucker’s hands on you,” he spits, and my heart aches as the memory steals me.

  “Come on, Tia. You’re fucking useless to me when you’re broken, but you can still make me a few scraps.” Dad pulls me down the hallway by my upper arm. It hurts where his fingers dig into my flesh, but I don’t cry out. He doesn’t like when I do. He hates it. That’s when he hits me. Strikes me with his hand or with whatever he can find.

  I don’t like bruises. I don’t like the pain. I don’t know what he means, but when he drags me into the living room, I see two of his friends sitting there. I recognize them because Daddy took me to work one day. To the club he owns.

  “There she is,” the one with a scar running down his cheek says, smirking at me. “Come here, little one, I need to get a good look at you.” His smirk is dark, and his leering eyes rake over me, sending revulsion coursing through me.

  Before I can answer, Dad pushes me forward, and I stumble toward the man. Fear seeps into my veins, unbidden and painful, like something is burning me from the inside out. When I glance down to where the man has a hold on me, I notice the plastic casing of a syringe. He put something in me.

  “She’ll calm down once this is in her bloodstream,” he says, looking behind me at my dad. Sixteen years, and it’s only been him, but now, I’m no longer just his to use. I’ll be theirs too. These men are going to take me. The confidence with which I know this, has fear coursing through me.

  Hands tug at me, at my clothes. I wish I could close my eyes. I wish my mind didn’t know what they were doing, but it does. I can see it happening.

  Fight them.

  I can’t.

  They’re evil. They need to die.

  She always tells me things I know. She tells me the truth.

  My eyes are open, and I watch them, but I’m sitting on my sofa at home. Not my real home. The one in my mind. The place that I’m safe. Where my friend is. She’s the only one who loves me. She keeps me safe beside her. Fingers, mouths, hands. They’re on my skin. It burns and prickles. “So sweet, aren’t you, little one?”

  They’re talking, but I don’t answer.

  I can’t.

  I don’t feel. I’m numb.

  More fingers. Something bigger. Thicker. Pain. Searing, burning, excruciating.

  I can’t close my eyes. I can’t. Tears stream down my cheeks. Then another white-hot pain hits me from behind. More tears. I can’t breathe. They’re grunting in my ear. My skin stings from their fingers, their hold on me too tight. Then I’m flailing. I’m just a doll, a lifeless rag doll. My body tumbles, and I’m on the floor.

  It’s as if I’m watching a horror movie.

  I want to scream.

  I want to fight.

  My body is numb.

  My limbs are weak, and they don’t listen to me. I tell them to move with my mind. But they’re no longer connected to my mind. They don’t care. I don’t care.

  Let go, Tia. They’ll only hurt you more.

  She knows best. So, I listen to her.

  She’s my only friend.

  We sit back on our sofa and watch.

  “You’re so fucked in the head, aren’t you?” Ryker’s hand slaps across my face, leaving it smarting from the smack. But it drags me from the morbid memories. Roughly, he pulls the cloth from my mouth, and my lungs suck in air quickly.

  “Please, Ryker, just let me go. I don’t know wh—”

  “Shut up!” Spittle flies from his mouth. He looks demented. This isn’t the man I dated. This isn’t the man I spent six months with. He’s lost inside himself. I know how that feels; I’ve lived with it for too long. So long, in fact, sometimes I can’t remember who I am.

  “Ryk, babe, we need to go. Daddy is going to be angry if we spend more time with her. He’ll take care of her.” The mention of my father sends fear racing through me.

  He’s found me.

  I told you he’d find you.

  Shit.

  He’s going to hurt us, you.

  No, I’ll get out. Brax will find me.

  How do you know?

  He promised he’d always find me.

  What if he doesn’t get to me in time?

  Stop. He has to.

  Promises don’t count.

  Yes, they do. Brax counts.

  Stop being so fucking naïve and in love.

  Love is stronger.

  Love is a lie.

  No. It’s not.

  Did you love your daddy?

  Shaking my head, I ignore her question. I can’t do this. I can’t lose it now. I’ve come so far. Going back to that girl isn’t going to get me out of this. I need to think clearly. “Belle, what do you mean? Where’s Dad?”

  She pins me with a fierce glare. “He’s coming soon, Tia. When he does, you’ll be sorry you fucked him over. You see, your little boyfriend thinks he’s clever, but . . .” She tapers off. Pulling a drag on the smoke, she inhales, and it’s as if I can see the smoke racing through her body, from her mouth down into her chest. “He’s going to find out why Miguel Alvarez is notorious. You see, Tia, after you ran away, Daddy found me and apologized. He told me you were broken, that I was the special one. I am his favorite.”

  “I don’t understand. What are you talking about? He told me you went away to school.” I implore her with my eyes, hoping she’ll see reason.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me!” Her screech has me wincing. “He sold me, Tia,” she murmurs and almost looks human as she pushes up from the sofa and stalks toward me. “You were the lucky one. You got all Daddy’s love. Me? I got raped, every godforsaken day by men I didn’t know. I got abused and slapped around,” she continues, and my heart crumbles. Tiny shattered pieces of the love I had falls at my feet. He lied. I knew he lied, but I didn’t realize how fucked up it was. My poor sister.

  “Belle—”

  “Do not say my name, sister.” She sneers the last word, and it’s heavy with venom. “You stayed with him when I was locked in a cell like an animal. I was beaten every fucking day for four years, until Ryk saved me.” She purrs his name, raking a blood-red fingernail down his bare chest.

  “What?” My gaze darts between them, and a laugh falls from her lips. My world spins off its axis. “Do you not know what Dad did to me after you left? When I turned sixteen, he made me do things, Belle, he . . .” My words are silenced by her deadly stare.

  “Do not lie to me. He didn’t make you do anything.” She leans in, her face inches from mine. “He told me about how you went off the rails. How you went around fucking every dick in sight. Daddy told me you’d try to tell me lies about him. You were the one who told hi
m to send me instead of you.” Shaking my head so fast, I feel dizzy. It’s a lie. It’s all lies. “You even killed Mom, just so she didn’t save me. You will pay.” My stomach turns at the memory of my mother.

  Blood.

  Red.

  No. No. No.

  Breathe, Tia. You didn’t kill her.

  My regression sessions were supposed to give me answers, but that memory is so deeply buried I’ve never been able to recall the day my mother was killed.

  “Let’s go, Ryk, she’s not worth it.” With that, my sister turns and stalks away, her hand latched on Ryker’s as they leave me to hang here in the dark.

  “Please!” I cry out, but they ignore me. My mind darkens, and the migraine starts.

  No. No. No. Please.

  Braxton

  The Past

  When we stormed the club, we couldn’t find Miguel anywhere, but we did capture one of his men. “Where the hell is she?” I spit in his face, but all I get is a maniacal guffaw. This is fucking ridiculous. How am I meant to find her when we have nothing to go on? It’s been forty-eight hours, and I haven’t heard from her. She’s not at her apartment nor at the bar.

  Yes, there are times we go without talking, but this has my hackles rising. Something’s off, so vastly off that I found this little dick weed. He had a picture of her in his pocket at the club. Walking into that place was painful enough knowing what’s about to go down.

  Tia is gone, and I don’t know where the fuck she is. We’ve got people scouring the CCTV footage, but nothing’s turned up. The girl Ryk was with couldn’t have been Tia. I know deep in my heart that she’s out there somewhere, and I’m afraid she’s hurt. Or worse. No. I can’t think like that.

  Grant’s hand lands on my shoulder, and he tugs me back. “Let me handle this?” he questions, and I see the determination on his face. He’ll get what we need. I nod and take a step back. Turning, I head out of the room and into the hallway of the club. It’s closed, empty except for the team I brought in. I’ve only ever seen the front of the bar, but the back where the offices are situated is stark. Void of any color. Like my fucking life without Tia.