Beautiful Torture

by C. P. Mandara

  The first sip burns like acid. The liquid takes up residence down my throat with a burning path of fire, and I almost choke in the wake of the fumes it leaves. How can anyone find this stuff pleasant? Ignoring the misery it's just imparted, I take a gulp now that the worst is out of the way, and then another, waiting for the amber magic to do its thing.

  "Steady there. That stuff will have you on the floor before you know it." Brandt swirls the liquid around in his glass and brings it up to his nose as if appreciating the scent. I have no idea what he can smell because when I try to do the same the vapours make my eyes water.

  "I think I deserve a glass or two of this after the day I've had. As do you." My lips soften in sympathy. Gabriel has made himself scarce for the time being, but I'm positive he'll be back shortly. I'm not sure what Brandt's reaction will be, but I suspect things will be tense for a while.

  Brandt smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He's thinking about the same things that I am.

  "Are you hungry?" Holding the whisky in both hands, he looks over it to examine me. I'm not doing too badly, considering.

  "No, I ate off the floor earlier," I say dryly. I have no desire to repeat the experience any time soon, either.

  He snorts. "I'd forgotten about that. Gabriel is a complete bastard when someone ruffles his feathers. He's being an asshole because he's trying to protect me. The sentiment is misplaced. I can do my own dirty work."

  I nod. I already knew that.

  He rubs his knee, which is once again clad in jeans, and sighs. His top half is still worryingly naked, considering I find it hard to control myself around the man, but I'm sure I've been given enough ammunition from Alex to hate men for life, so I should be good. Not all men are the same, my inner voice says silkily. The trouble is, in my limited experience, I've found that most of them aren't that different.

  Brandt clears his throat, snapping me out of my daydream. "I would apologise for him, but there'd be no point. Gabriel is a law unto himself. Ultimately he's looking out for me, though." He drains his glass and sets it down on the table next to him.

  "Didn't look that way a few minutes ago," I remark wryly. "It looked a whole lot like something else."

  Brandt doesn't respond but looks at me pointedly. He's waiting for me to start talking. He wants to know the answers to all the questions that have been running through his head for the last five years. He's right. He does deserve to know. I need a minute, though. I might even need two. Thankfully, the whisky is starting to grow on me. My throat is now anaesthetised to the lava-like fluid that is beginning to warm my whole body, and the taste is growing on me.

  Preparing myself to reveal all, Gabriel then waltzes in. Grabbing the bottle of whisky he takes a swig directly from it and plonks himself down next to Brandt. Oh God. He's still shirtless, too. I think I need more alcohol.

  "Fill her glass up," Brandt says, as if he can read my mind. Gabriel does as told and then settles back with his arm around Brandt. Interesting enough, Brandt doesn't push him away. What is the deal with these two? If I were Brandt I would be raving mad about now, unless... oh fuck. How stupid am I?

  "You were in on this from the beginning, weren't you?" My face darkens as I realise I've been duped. How did I not see this earlier? Putting my head on my hand, I laugh to myself.

  Neither of them denies it, and neither have the grace to look guilty about it. Actually, Brandt's face looks slightly flushed as he turns to speak to me.

  "You promised, Harper. Start talking. I'm done with the nastiness. I'm due to get married in a few days' time, so I want to figure this shit out and get the hell out of here as fast as I can."

  "You're leaving the country?" If this is the case, at least my conscience can rest a little easier. I don't need any more deaths on my hands.

  "Hell, yes. I'm not going to be anyone's bitch, least of all my parents. Did you know they wouldn't even speak to me to coerce me into this marriage of convenience? They left that up to their solicitor. Nice touch, I thought. Anyway, as soon as I hear your side of the story, I'm off to whichever country will have me. Preferably somewhere warm with a sea view."

  It's my turn to smile for a change. This makes me feel a little better. If Brandt is doing a disappearing trick in the next few days to get away from his bride-to-be, then I don't have to worry about finding his entrails decorating my neck. Yes, it's a thing, and yes, it's happened before. The deeper you dive into my past, the messier it gets - trust me.

  Now all I have to do is figure out where to start, and as with all good tales, it's usually best to go back to the beginning, so that's what I do.

  With my hands cradling my glass of Scotch, I tell them about how Alex and I met, and how jealous he was of Brandt. I tell them about the threats, and what I had to do to make sure Brandt wasn't sold down the river.

  "I didn't put you in jail because I wanted to, I did it because I was forced to. I know you don't believe me now, but I hope you will. Just listen to me for a few minutes, okay? That's all I ask."

  Brandt nods and keeps his face neutral. At least he's going to give me a chance. Gabriel looks like he wants to murder someone, but he's worn that look for most of the short time I've known him, so I don't let it concern me overly much.

  "Alex was always jealous of you, Brandt. He saw the way I looked at you. He knew I'd sell my soul to have a night with you, and he hated it. He was captain of the football team, the one all the girls drooled over, and he could have any female he wanted. The man was fawned upon by everyone bar me. It drove him crazy. To add insult to injury, the closer he got to me the further I pushed him away. I knew he was bad news. I'd seen the type before, and besides, I didn't need any distractions; I was on a scholarship and I needed to study. The trouble was, Alex didn't take no for an answer. The more I tried to avoid him the crazier he became, until the guy was stalking my every move."

  Brandt looks sceptical, and Gabriel has a faintly bored look on his face. It's entirely possible they won't believe a word of this, but that's not my problem. They asked for my story, and that's what they're going to get. What happens after that is up to them. Continuing with my sorry tale, I pick up where I left off.

  "Eventually he cornered me in my dorm. He'd waited until he was sure I'd be on my own, and then he basically forced his way in. Alex told me if I didn't date him he'd plant drugs in Brandt's room and then call the cops. Now I know you're rolling your eyes right now, Gabriel, but the man was more than capable of it. Back then he was a small-time dealer, and Brandt can confirm it. Alex wanted leverage over me. He knew I wouldn't risk ruining Brandt's life. He went to a great deal of trouble to tell me all the horrible things that could happen to Brandt while he was in there, so I dated the bastard. I figured it would only be a few weeks before he got bored with me and that it would be the easiest way to get rid of him."

  Gabriel's been itching to interrupt, but he waits until I pause, before stating the obvious. "But you did send him to prison. You sold him down the river, without a fucking boat let alone a paddle. I hope this story is going somewhere, darling, because at the moment it sure feels like a heap of shit." He holds his hands up as if to say 'what-the-fuck?' and I understand where he's coming from, but if he'd just be patient I have the answers to all his questions.

  "I didn't send him to jail back then. This was six years ago. He wouldn't go to prison for another year. Alex never got bored of dating me, and a few years later I would be forced to marry him. His jealousy of Brandt never disappeared, though, and it drove him crazy."

  Brandt raises his head and looks me in the eye. "Alex mistreated you, didn't he? Was he the one starving you?" Brandt's teeth are tearing into his bottom lip and his forehead is buried in a deep furrow of concern. Gabriel is nowhere near as convinced, but then, I never expected him to be.

  I nod my head. "Up to a point. He liked me to look good," I confirm. "Once I got above a certain weight he would lock me in a room or beat me until the scales were back in the black." I don't really want to share
this stuff, but they'll figure out these details on their own before long. Brandt isn't stupid, and nor is Gabriel.

  "Sonofabitch," hisses Brandt, but he doesn't say anything further. The onus is on me to finish my story, so I continue.

  "Wilkinson liked kinky shit, much like you two do." I stare at them both, knowing that neither of them will deny it. I don't know if Brandt has always been into BDSM, but if not, I have a rough idea who introduced him to it. Gabriel shrugs, but Brandt's eyes are dark. I think he knows where this is going, and I think that look means he cares, though I don't want to speculate. I'm under no illusions that he'll want me around after this tale is out, and it's probably for the best.

  Brandt waves his hand for me to continue. His movements are jerky, as if he's containing his temper. I hope the rage is directed at my ex-husband rather than me, but I have no way of knowing.

  "Alex liked to hurt me. When I did something wrong, he enjoyed punishing me. At first this would be something simple, like a spanking, but he soon tired of those. Then we'd move on to the paddle, whip or cane. After a while, when I became used to those, he had to continually develop new ones in order to control me. That was where the starvation came in, but he liked to lock me up for days at a time, and he also came at me with his fists. There was never a dull moment with my monster." I pause, wondering where I should go next. There are so many pathways from this one, it's hard to know which one to take.

  "Wait. You put up with all of that just to keep me out of jail? Are you crazy? Why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you tell someone? Family? The police? The dean? Jesus Christ, Harper. There had to be someone." Brandt's voice catches as he realises what I've gone through. He knows I'm telling the truth. He's probably the only one who will believe me, and that really sucks after what I did to him.

  "I couldn't. While I have no family much to speak of, I had friends I didn't want to see hurt and he knew who they were. He also had me watched. Back then he only had one guy, but that would grow over the years to several armed men who would always be on my tail. He also threatened to get me flung in jail. Said he could drop a little something in my dorm at any time and that would be it. No one would believe a word I said from then on in. Bye-bye, Harper - watch your life disappear in an instant." I click my fingers because that's how long it would have taken my ex to make a colossal mess of me. If there was one thing Alex was good at, it was reading people, and he knew exactly what to use against you. When that changed, it didn't take him long to find something else.

  Brandt sits there, rigid in his chair, mouth open as he tries his best to digest what I'm saying. He looks sick to his stomach. Gabriel is now looking a little off colour, too. The trademark smug smile is missing, and his jaw has hardened. Oh, these guys haven't heard anything yet - and I can't even tell them the whole story. That would crack Brandt wide open, and he deserves to know, but while Mal's still alive there's no way I'm saying a word. I know first-hand how dangerous that man is.

  "Continue." Brandt pours himself another glass of whisky, as he's just necked the last one. His fingers wrap themselves around the glass so tightly I fear the crystal will shatter, but thankfully it holds firm. Summoning up more courage than I have, I do my best to try and finish this sad tale.

  "When I first knew him, Alex wasn't into the hard stuff. He dealt mainly marijuana, hash, coke, steroids and amphetamines to anyone who would have them. He used teenage girls for his mules, and that arrangement seemed to work very well for him. He wouldn't get into the hard stuff until a little later, but that didn't mean he couldn't get his hands on it if he wanted to. The threat was real, and he made sure I knew it. He'd have me deliver his 'product' occasionally, just to see if I could be trusted. He also had it filmed. Alex had so much dirt on me he could have sent me down for a lifetime, but he never needed to. I think he always figured I'd run away, but I knew better. I knew right from the beginning that there was no escape."

  "You sucking all this up, Brando?" Gabriel doesn't want to believe my sob story. He desperately wants me to be the villain in the piece, and this isn't working out well for him.

  "Shut up," Brandt growls, giving him a warning look. It appears he's still on my side for the time being. That's something, I guess.

  "Anyway, back to my fun tale," I say, as I feel my body begin to relax. The effects of the alcohol are finally taking hold, and I have to admit it feels rather nice. My head feels a little lighter and considerably happier. It's almost as if someone's removed a ten-tonne weight from my body and is now suspending it above my head. I know it will be back, but for the time being I'm going to enjoy my reprieve. "Alex did get into the hard stuff. It didn't take him long. He was approached by one of London's bad boys and offered a lot of money to take things up a level. He didn't need much convincing. My role in his life suddenly changed from a fun-time playmate, to something more useful. He basically pimped me out and got me to run drugs for him. I'd later find out he'd often earn money for both services, and that would tickle him no end. He found it extremely funny that he'd managed to crush my proud and haughty demeanour in the short space of a few years, and that he could get me to do just about anything for him, including fuck other men. The trouble was, Alex, as I've mentioned before, was an extremely jealous man. He could tolerate me being with other men as a one off, but not much more. Brandt drove him absolutely crazy because he knew I had feelings for him." I wave my nearly empty glass in his direction. "Even though Brandt was no longer a figure in my life, and I never went near him through choice, Alex couldn't bear the fact that I'd previously had the hots for him. I think he wanted him removed from the scene, and he wanted me to have a hand in it. This was probably to torture me, because as I've mentioned, this was his second favourite pastime. And when he got in league with one of London's most notorious bad boys, Mal Adley, he had the resources to take him out of the picture for good, so that's exactly what he did." Just saying Mal's name out loud makes me shudder, because it holds so many terrible memories for me. That man made Alex look like a pussycat.

  "Are you okay, Harper?" Brandt looks at me with concern in his eyes, but it won't be long before I'm not his problem any more. I bet he can't wait to get rid of me.

  No. I'm not okay, and deep down, I'm not sure I ever will be. I don't voice my opinion, though, I just give him a nod. All he wants is his story, and that's what he's going to get.

  "Alex got Mal to do his dirty work for him, of course. He knew that Mal would make far more of an impression on me than he would, and he also knew I'd be so scared of the asshole I wouldn't dream of crossing him. Mal's a bit like Gabriel," I add for effect.

  "Explain," says Gabriel dryly, playing exactly into my hands.

  I decide to let him have it. "He doesn't have a conscience, and he knows how to play people to his advantage. He lives in that in-between place between sociopath and psychopath, with a good edge toward the latter. In short - he's a fucking monster." Gabriel raises his eyebrows but doesn't correct me, so I continue. "People are his puppets, and he has the power to make them do whatever he wants. Mal was the same, but he had more power. He had lots of money and men behind him." Brandt bites his lip. He knows the kind of people I'm talking about. He's spent the last five years in close quarters with them.

  "Did he do anything to you?" he asks. I immediately choke on my drink. What didn't the bastard do to me? But sharing all that right now isn't helpful, and I have my tenuous grip on sanity to think about.

  "He did plenty of things to everyone. If you crossed him, you could expect to be tortured then killed. He was known as the Airfix King. He liked to superglue his victim's eyes together before he started to work on them. Sometimes he'd glue their nostrils together, and often their mouth too. He'd then insert a tiny little hole with a straw, or some such thing, and then watch them go blue and desperately wheeze for air until they died. Sometimes he'd chop off body parts and glue them elsewhere. He had a fondness for 'tails'. I don't go into detail. These guys are smart. They'll figure it out.

&
nbsp; "What did he do to the women?" Brandt isn't going to let this go. I have no idea why he wants to know about my messed-up shit, but if that's what he wants he can have a little taste, I guess.

  I smile weakly. "Mal was into dangerous, kinky shit. He had even more fun with women than he did with men. He liked to tie them up and choke them - more often than not with his cock, but he had other means. He also liked to scare them witless. He'd make them watch while he killed someone, and then he'd tie them up and blindfold them, watching while they went batshit crazy with fear. It turned him on. He knew he could ask them to do anything, and they'd obey instantly. That was why he made sure they watched him work. After you've had an hour or two of Mal maiming, stabbing and gluing, you give him anything he wants. Self-preservation is an interesting thing. I'm sure you guys learned it behind bars, but you're not the only one who got a hold on it."

  Brandt's face looks haunted. "So you're the victim here as much as me. You might even have had it worse than me," he whispers. He looks appalled. He's just realised I'm not the monster in this story, but he's wrong. I am that monster because at the end of the day, there is always a way out. I just wasn't brave enough to take it.

  "Don't feel sorry for me," I whisper. "I should have been braver. I could have run. I could have gone to the police. I could have taken my own life. I had options. Instead, I inflicted pain and misery on others because I was scared. I did what I was told because I was too frightened to do anything else. That makes me no better than either Alex or Mal. I've done plenty of horrible things in my life since meeting those two, and I'm not proud of the fact. You were right, Brandt. I should have spoken up. Instead, I let those two assholes ruin your life as well as mine. What a fucking mess." Burying my head in my hands, the tears come. I have so many sins to atone for I hardly know where to start, but it feels good to tell someone the truth. It's cathartic. While it doesn't purge me of my guilt, at least I'm on the right road. There is a way I can make this better; I just need the courage to see it through.