by Bella Jewel
“You stupid fuckin’ bitch,” Treyton’s angry voice roars. “You think you could cross me and not feel the consequences!?”
I blink, trying to gather my strength, “I…I…”
“You will fuckin’ pay for telling those bikers about the drugs. You will pay. And they will pay. They have meddled in my fuckin’ business for too long.”
I focus on Treyton - he’s glaring at me, panting with rage. My head spins, and I look up at him, confused. He thinks I told them about the drugs? I didn’t tell a soul.
“I didn’t…I didn’t say a word about the drugs. I swear,” I whisper. “I only found out they knew today.”
He studies me, his jaw tight.
“I have very nearly fuckin’ lost my life because of you, and those interfering scumbags. I had to risk fucking everything to get those drugs back out before they got their hands on them. They’ve declared a fuckin’ war, and it’ll start with you. They’re going to wish they didn’t cross me.”
I blink, and open my mouth to say something, but his fist flies out and smashes against my face, hitting my cheek. I scream, and try to fight, hands flying around. He hits my ribs, my stomach, my back, anything his hands can get to. He grips my hair, causing a burning pain to radiate through my skull, and he slams my head into the side of the window. Whoever is driving, doesn’t flinch.
They just keep moving.
Pain, unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life, rips through my body. Hit after hit, punch after punch. I can taste blood, my eyes are filled with it to the point I can’t see, my ears are ringing, and my head is pounding. My screams are mangled, my body has given up its fight. After what feels like forever, Treyton stops hitting me, and the car slows down. He grabs my dress in one hand, and a handful of hair in the other, raising me up so my face is inches from his.
“I should fuckin’ kill you, but not today. You’re my warning to them. Be sure to pass it along. If they do not stay out of my business, I will come in, and I will give them a fight that they won’t ever fuckin’ recover from. I will turn their fucking world upside down. Consider yourselves warned.”
The door opens, and suddenly my body is flying through the air, as if I weigh nothing. I hit the dirt, and more pain, more loud cracks, and more of my screams fill the air. I roll to my side, blood everywhere, silent screams being ripped from my throat because I have gone past the point of being able to make a sound.
I hear boots.
I hear my name.
“Fuck. Scarlett. No.”
Maverick.
Maverick.
Help me.
I’m sorry.
~*~*~*~
MAVERICK
“Call a fuckin’ ambulance!” I roar, dropping to my knees, tearing holes in my jeans as I scoop up the broken, bleeding girl, that just got launched from a truck onto our driveway.
There is so much blood. She’s covered in it.
Head to toe.
Fuckin’ covered.
Pain rips through my chest as I pull her into my arms. There is too much blood. Way too much blood.
“Call a fuckin’ ambulance!” I roar again, vision blurring.
“One is on the way.”
Mal’s voice.
“Fucking Jesus Christ.”
Koda.
“Scarlett,” I say, trying to swipe the bloodied pieces of hair from her face, but there’s just too much.
She’s going to die.
No.
Fuck.
“Scarlett. Baby. Wake up. Please, fuckin’ wake up.”
She makes the most horrible, pained sound, I’ve ever heard come from a woman in my life. My heart feels like someone has ripped it from my chest.
“Baby, wake up. Fuckin’ please. I’m so sorry.”
Everything happens quickly after that. The ambulance arrives. Someone takes her from my arms. I stand there, numb, covered in her blood. Mal moves me. Then we’re driving. To the hospital - I think. Fuckin’ bright lights. People screaming at each other. Someone keeps grabbing my arm, squeezing my shoulder. Then I’m sitting.
Waiting.
This is my fault.
All my fuckin’ fault.
I should have listened to her.
I should have never let her leave.
She’s going to die because I fuckin’ failed her.
I failed her.
~*~*~*~
SCARLETT
Everything hurts.
The lights, they’re too bright.
Someone keeps calling my name. Touching my face. Poking my body.
My eyes flitter open, but I can’t see anything for a long time. Just those blinding lights.
Someone takes my hand. A husky voice calls my name.
A female voice flows in.
Where am I?
I blink. A few times. Maybe more.
Then I see him. Maverick. Sitting beside the bed, eyes red, staring at me. His big hand is curled around mine, and it feels really nice. Really, really nice.
“She’s awake. Nurse.”
I’m being poked again. A woman is asking me questions. Who is she? What does she want?
“Scarlett, you’re in the hospital. Can you hear me?”
Of course I can hear you. It sounds like you’re shouting.
Did I say that out loud?
“Scarlett?”
“Yes,” I croak.
“Very good. Can you focus on my finger?”
I blink some more. My eyes burn. My throat burns. Everything burns.
I focus on her finger. It’s blurry, but I can see it.
“Good. Can you tell me your full name?”
I tell her.
“And your date of birth?”
I tell her.
“I’m going to get the doctor. We will be back soon.”
Someone puts a cup to my mouth. I sip it. Water. The burn eases from my throat. There are more voices. More questions. A doctor. He tells me what happened. Broken ribs. Stitches. Internal bleeding. Too much for me to make sense of.
Treyton.
That’s all I know.
I turn my head to the side, and focus on Maverick. He’s staring at me. Face broken. Green eyes hurt. The doctor finishes up. “We’ll come back to check on her soon.”
Then we’re alone.
Maverick moves first, taking my hand into his, standing up and curling the other one around my cheek. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby. This is all my fault.”
I shake my head, voice hoarse, “No. It isn’t. We both screwed up.”
“I didn’t give you a chance to tell me what happened. I was so fuckin’ angry. Could have cost you your life.”
“And I didn’t trust you,” I tell him, focusing on his pained eyes. “We both screwed up.”
“Who did this to you?”
I swallow.
“Treyton.”
His jaw gets tight, and he growls, “I will kill him. I will rip every bone from his body. He will suffer for hurting you. I swear it. I fuckin’ swear it.”
“It was a warning, Maverick.”
His eyes swing to me. “What?”
“Can you get Mal in here?”
He narrows his eyes. “Yeah.”
He leaves, and a few minutes later, returns with Mal and Koda by his side. Mal looks equally as pained, Koda keeps his expression blank.
“So fuckin’ sorry, girly,” Mal tells me. “We fucked up.”
“It isn’t your fault, Mal.”
“How are you feelin’?” Koda asks.
“I’ve been a whole lot better,” I croak. “It’s going to hurt for a while, but I’m strong. I’ll get through. Is there any media attention over this?”
Maverick shakes his head. “Nobody knows. Susan made sure of it.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Treyton did this,” Maverick tells Mal.
Mal nods. “Thought as much.”
“It was a warning,” I tell them. “He thinks I told you about the drugs. He said if you wa
nted a war, you’ll have one. If you don’t stay out of his business, what happens next will be far worse.”
“This was his fuckin’ warning?” Koda growls. “Fuck. What sort of cold monster is he?”
“He’s dangerous,” I whisper. “So damned dangerous.”
Maverick looks to Mal. “What do we do? Your call.”
Mal looks to me, then back to the guys. “He can’t get away with this. He wants control over the town, the drugs runnin’ through it, but I can’t give that to him. Mostly, he won’t get away with hurting any member of this family.”
Family?
I’m their family?
My heart explodes.
“That’s right, baby,” Maverick says. “Family. Always. He will suffer for hurting you.”
That feels nice. So nice.
“So, what do we do now?” I whisper.
Mal looks to me, holding my eyes. “We fight. We don’t let him win. We come back twice as hard.”
Oh. God.
That isn’t good.
“I have a feeling this is all about to blow,” Maverick mutters, running his hands through his hair.
Mal nods. “This is far from fuckin’ over, it’s just about to begin.”
I look to Maverick. “Am I safe? Are we safe?”
He shakes his head, curling a hand around mine. “Until Treyton is dead, nobody is.”
Maverick leans down, cupping my face with his hands. “Won’t let anyone hurt you again, baby. Swear it on my life. Love you, do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I whisper.
Only I’m not sure I believe him.
Treyton is only getting warmed up.
This war has only just begun.
TO BE CONTINUED….
Hushed Torment
Copyright 2019 Bella Jewel
PROLOGUE
THEN – AMALIE
“Are you listening to me, Amalie?”
The croaky, frustrated voice fills my ears, but I keep my eyes on the road, my mind clear. Fighting. Always fighting. It’s like a wave that keeps crashing into me, over and over, no matter how hard I keep rising to the surface. His voice is low and pitched in a way that is irritating. Sometimes, I wish I couldn’t hear him so for a second I could remember how it felt to just breathe in the silence.
I loved him once.
Maybe I still do.
I’m not really sure.
That’s a terrible feeling, not being sure. But, in my mind, I have to know that if I’m doubting it, then my heart isn’t truly in it. I always believed that I’d know real love, the one that never fades, the one that captures your breath and never lets it go. From the moment I met him, I didn’t feel that. It was love, of a sort, but not the love I forever dreamed of.
I hum a tune under my breath—soft, soulful. I take myself to another place, a place where I can be just me: Amalie. A place where he isn’t, which makes me sad. A world where only I exist. I imagine my fingers gliding over the piano keys, I let my body feel the same things it feels when the music flows into me, hitting my soul, taking me to another world. A world of freedom. A world of happiness.
Music is my life.
“Amalie, I’m speaking to you!”
He’s always speaking to me. Or more so, at me. Over and over again, he throws his words at me. There is no happiness between us anymore. Four years together, and I’ve forgotten what it felt like to laugh with him. Maybe we were never a match. Dramatics were always high on his list. Opinionated. Loud. I’m the complete opposite. I like my world silent, except for music. Everything else is just a waste of energy.
“Amalie!” he barks.
I curl my fingers around the steering wheel, trying to stay calm. My therapist said not to feed it. Not to react when he’s behaving like this. She doesn’t understand how hard that is. He learned how to drive me to a point where I would explode, but I hated that side of myself. I’ve always been calm and at peace. Quiet. He brings out the worst in me. And then he turns it around and makes it my fault.
I’ve tried to break up with him. Three times.
He puts the guilt back on me, and my softness takes over and he wins.
Every time.
But tonight, I’m calm. I’m at ease. I’m ready for freedom. Ready to pursue my dreams. I’m ready to be something else. Something better. Something different. An opportunity has come up for me and my music, and I’m going to take it. Besides, I know there is someone out there for him, someone better suited, someone who can make him happy.
I don’t think that someone is me.
It’s dark out, and the highway is mostly dead except for the few occasional cars passing by. The wind is howling, and the moon is full, sitting low, lighting up the whole sky, demanding its presence be felt. I glance at it for just a second and feel a sense of calm wash over me. I can do this. It’s for the best. I just have to hold strong.
I take a deep, calming breath and say in the kindest voice I can muster up, “We can’t be together anymore, Caiden.”
My voice, while gentle, is also firm in its delivery.
“I beg your pardon?”
His voice is clipped, and from the corner of my eye, I see him turn toward me. I can’t see his face, but I know he’ll be scowling, the furrows between his brows deepening. I keep my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road. Breathe in, and out.
“I’m sorry. I’ve tried. But it isn’t working. I don’t love you like I should and that isn’t fair on either of us. An opportunity has come up for my music, and I’m going to take it.”
Dead silence.
It takes him a while to reply, and my chest clenches with anticipation of his reaction. “You’re joking, right?”
Oh, but I wish I was.
I suddenly like I’m carrying a heavy weight. I’ve made my choice, but it doesn’t mean that it was an easy one to make. Caiden has been a part of my life for long enough that I know I’ll miss his presence. But I won’t miss putting my life on hold, because our dreams are different. Our personalities are different.
We’re two of a different kind.
It won’t work.
“No. We’re not doing this again,” he says firmly, arms crossing over his broad chest.
“Caiden,” I say, keeping calm, remembering what my therapist said. Don’t make the situation worse, be straightforward and kind, but stand your ground. “I’m sorry, but it is happening. I’m leaving in two days.”
“No.”
He stares straight ahead, and the moonlight allows us to hide nothing. My heart is beating erratically, and I take as many deep breaths as I can to try and calm it. I suffer from anxiety on the best of days, and a situation like this doesn’t help. At all.
“Caiden, I’m sorry, but I’ve made my choice.”
He laughs, cold and bitter. “This is another one of your weird attempts at perusing some ridiculous career. You’ve done it before, and we’re still here. You and I both know you’re not leaving me, Amalie, so we’ll have no more of this conversation.”
My cheeks get red, and my heart beats so wildly I can’t hear myself think.
There he goes again. Talking at me. Making decisions. Making me out to be the bad guy. Turning it around on me. Once again.
Not this time.
“I’m leaving.”
My words are final, my tone harder than it should be. I hate that, but I’m not backing down. He doesn’t own my life, and he doesn’t own me. I don’t want to hurt him, but I am doing this.
I’ve had enough.
“You’re not.”
Breathe, Amalie.
“I am.”
“No,” he roars suddenly, spinning around and facing me. “You’re fucking not! I haven’t wasted four years of my life on you for you to just leave. No. You’re being ridiculous and I won’t take it. Couples have rough patches, that’s all this is. We’re going to fix it. You’re going to stay around so we can fix it. I will not speak any more about it, Amalie. Do you understand me?”
&n
bsp; Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
“I’m sorry, but I have made my choice. I won’t discuss this any further with you, Caiden. Not until we arrive home. I’m trying to drive. We’ll be there in a few minutes and we can have a proper discussion.”
I should have waited until we arrived home. I realize that now. But I was hoping that as soon as we got home, I could pack my bags and leave. I didn’t want an argument that would last all night long. Because I knew that’s how it would end. Caiden doesn’t just accept things, at least in the car I have an escape as soon as we stop. When we’re at home, he’ll do anything to keep it dragging on.
Still, this probably wasn’t the best idea.
“Pull over then,” he demands. “You start this conversation and now you want me to wait? No. Pull over.”
“When we get home, we’ll—”
“I said pull over!” he bellows. “If you’re going to break up with me, you’re going to damn well look me in the eye instead of waiting until we get home.”
“Caiden, calm down,” I try to say, but he’s angry.
Really, really angry. And his temper is never good. He does stupid things when he loses it.
“I said,” he grinds out, hands shaking, “pull over!”
He reaches over, grabbing the steering wheel and pulling it. It isn’t much, but it’s enough. I turn for a split second to look at him out of pure shock, to try and stop him, and the car jerks to the side. We hit the dirt on the side of the highway and I panic, trying to correct it, but it only makes it worse. Caiden is yelling something, but I can’t focus. I try to correct the car again and hit the brakes at the same time.
It’s the worst mistake I ever make.
I lose control, and we flip.
The car launches, hits the side of the road, slips down the bank a little, and then we’re in the air and rolling. Over, and over, and over. For a moment, my vision blurs, my hearing stops, and all I can feel is my body being flung, my legs jerking, my arms flying around as we plummet down lower.
Then it stops. With a loud crash. Everything just stops.
My ears are ringing, my head is crushed against the window, and something warm is coating my face. Blood. I taste its metallic flavor in my mouth. Panic grips me, and I try to move, but my legs are trapped. The car is crushed.
