by Kishan Paul
She tucked the weapon behind the fabric of her dress and turned to him, eyeing the rope he held. “He can’t come here. The plane ride alone could kill him.”
“Then it’s not so important is it?” He moved from his spot behind the couch.
For each step back she took, he took one forward. “You share the same blood. Just give him a few of your stem cells, let him heal, and then he can come home to you.” She sucked in a breath when her back connected with the wall behind her.
Light danced in his eyes as he stalked his prey. “I am just supposed to do what? Believe your words, give you what you want, and then let you go home? You must think me a bigger fool than I realized.”
She slid to the side until she became trapped in the corner with Wassim blocking her escape. The door to the stairs creaked open, and she willed it to be Eddie.
Wassim’s large frame made it impossible to see past him, but the satisfied grin he flashed the new observer made her heart drop. She widened her stance and tightened her grip on the weapon, waiting for the right moment to strike. Ally flinched when he rubbed the rope against her throat.
He didn’t press deep. Not yet. First, he’d toy with her. As if reading her mind, he rolled the cord up and down the length of her throat, so slow she could feel it as it rose and dipped over the ridges of her windpipe. Each time she flinched, the glint in his eyes sparkled a little more. “You’ve taken so many things from me, and now it’s my turn to take from you.”
She’d been delusional in hoping he’d listen, to believe he’d put aside his hate, his greed to save the life of his son. Those two emotions were clearly far more valuable than his child. She swallowed the mix of fear and disgust rising in her throat.
The rope stilled and dug deeper between the ridges of her trachea. The pressure of it made her gag. She pressed herself against the wall seeking any reprieve from the tension.
Wassim tipped his head, eyeing her. “Anything else you want to say before…”
Instead of speaking, she reared the weapon back.
As she went for the strike, a hand wrapped around her wrist and slammed it hard against the wall. The torrents of pain shooting through her arm was nothing compared to the terror coursing through her veins when Rafi yanked the instrument out of her clutches and tossed it across the room.
Wassim’s lip curled while her heart dropped. She filled her lungs with air just before he shoved the rope hard against her neck. Her windpipe squeezed tight; tears burned her eyes.
She grabbed at his beard, her nails digging in his face, but the assault did not ease the force against her throat.
Ally slammed her knee in his crotch. The impact made him jump and release his grip. When she turned to run, hands grabbed her, restraining her. She crashed, her back to Rafi’s front. His arms, like chains, shackled around her chest and waist. He’d maneuvered his legs between hers and when she tried to kick at them, he lifted her off the ground and swung her.
“Stupid witch,” Wassim hissed. He cupped his groin and glared. Red welts had already begun to raise like mountain ranges along the side of his face where she’d clawed, and trickles of blood slid down his cheek from where her nails broke his skin.
“I’m now understanding why they say she’s dangerous. She’s fierce,” Rafi grunted while he continued to evade each of her attacks. “Are you okay, sir?”
“Fierce?” Wassim limped toward them his fist clenched. “She’s trash, and I’m going to fucking kill her.”
Ally tracked Wassim while trying to escape Rafi. Wassim always been evil. She’d known it the first time she’d met him, before he’d ever uttered a word or sneered at her. It was his eyes. No matter how big his smile might have been, it never touched his dark-brown orbs. And each time his gaze landed on her, she felt his hatred, long before she’d given him a reason to do so. It wasn’t until this moment she realized she had been wrong. His eyes did smile.
Those lifeless orbs seemed to dance as he stalked her. His hatred radiated from his face, his gaze. He was about to exert his revenge. With her arms restrained to her side, she could do nothing to escape it.
Skin, teeth, and bones collided when Wassim’s fist slammed into her jaw. The force of the impact made the side of her head crash into Rafi’s shoulder blade. Tears streaked her cheeks as the nauseating burn of the injury seared her face and neck, making the room spin.
Before she could recover from the first blow, a second smashed into the same area. Just as her legs gave way, just as the room began to go dark, Rafi tightened his grip on her and lifted her off her feet, giving her body a shake. “Before you destroy the rest of her face, can I make a request?”
Dazed, and unable to fight, Ally hung motionless while he spoke.
“Let me have an hour with her first.” He cupped her breast. “It would be a shame to waste such a perfectly good fuck.”
“A good fuck?” Wassim laughed. “You can fuck her corpse once I kill her.”
“There’s no fight in a corpse. One hour, and then cut her head off.”
“No, kill me first. Please,” Ally begged. Unsure of what to believe, she allowed the reality of what was about to come crash through her. Either way, her pleas were a reaction Wassim would find rewarding.
She was right. Wassim’s anger cooled. His narrowed eyes relaxed. He stepped back and crossed his arms as if considering the request.
“The way I see it,” Rafi continued, “you’re going to kill her anyway. So why not let me have a taste first? What I want to do to her will not be pleasing for her, and I will be sure to squeeze this energy out of her while I’m using her.”
“Wassim, please,” she whispered.
Disgust flashed across his face before he took a step back and waved his hand as if swatting a fly. “Have a taste, do whatever the hell you want, just make sure she’s still alive so I can personally finish her.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FRIEND OR FOE?
Ally stumbled across the room Rafi shoved her in. The process of catching and steadying herself from falling sent flames of heat billowing up her hips, burning through her stomach, searing her ribs. Each step burned hotter than the step before. The room spun from the pain; pain she couldn’t afford to succumb to.
She pressed a hand against her waist and scanned for escape options. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Time was running out, and from the looks of the space, so had her luck.
Fluorescent ceiling lights flooded the room in a yellow hue, and the four windowless walls imprisoning her were painted sea blue. She took inventory of her environment. Like in the cages on the floors below, there was a space between the partition and ceiling along the wall that separated her room from the neighboring one. Against the gapped wall sat a dresser.
To the left of her, a metal table lamp missing its shade sat on the nightstand, and beside it, a queen-size bed. The floral sheets were still bunched to the edge of the bed from the previous occupants. None of those obstacles were the reason Ally’s heart raced. The only way in and out of the room was the door Rafi currently locked.
She watched the back of his gray shirt as he secured the steel rod through the hooks screwed in to the wall and door, a task that seemed to take longer than necessary.
Rafi’s intentions were no longer clear to her. He claimed he needed to infiltrate Wassim’s group and warned her he wouldn’t be able to help her once inside the building, but he never told her he’d become a threat to her. How far would he go to make that happen? Especially with Wassim waiting at the other side of the door.
When he turned his attention to her, she knew she didn’t have the time to ask questions. Ally reached for the only weapon she could find and yanked the plug to the lamp out of the wall. She wrapped the cord around her palm with the prongs sticking up and gripped the column like a bat.
Rafi rested his hands on his hips, surveying her and the weapon she held. With each step back she made, he took one forward, not allowing her to widen the distance between them.
As he inched closer, Ally shook her head and postured herself, allowing instinct and a strong desire for self-preservation to take over. She flexed her fingers around the metal tubing and eyed the target. A little voice inside her head whispered that although she wielded the weapon, he had the advantage. And even if she succeeded, there were others outside that door eager to step in. She scowled and shoved the thoughts away. Those were threats she’d address when she needed to. For now, her attention was on the man shortening the distance between them.
She blew out a breath, widened her stance, and bent her knees the way Lee trained her to do. When her back brushed against the wall beside the bed, he nodded, alerting her he knew she was stuck.
Weapon in hand, Ally tracked him as he inched closer.
She swung at him to warn him of what she’d do. Her heart thudded against her chest, and she was unsure of herself. “Why are you doing this?” Her voice came out hoarse.
He shrugged. “I do what I need to do to get what I want.”
She cleared her throat and raised her voice, trying to sound more intimidating than she felt. “I will fight you every step of the way.”
He winked. “That’s what I was hoping for.”
When he lunged at her, she swung the lamp at his head.
He leaned back before the steel connected with his face.
Ally swung a second time, and again he moved his head out of the way, but this time she didn’t miss.
The bulb slammed into Rafi’s shoulder, sending shards of glass flying. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he grabbed the column as soon as it linked with him, yanking it out of her grip. The cord still wrapped around her hand; the force of his pull propelled her toward him.
As she fell, she pushed her palm and the prongs of the plug at his face. He grabbed her wrist, moved his head, saving his cheek, but one of the metal prongs scraped against his jaw in the process, leaving a red track along his skin.
Rafi tossed the lamp and clutched both her wrists, pushing them over her head and securing both with one of his larger hands. He shoved his hip into hers, restricting her ability to kick, and glued her to the wall behind her.
The movement engulfed her already-injured body in flames, weakening her knees as the nauseating pain consumed her.
He pulled out a blade from his jean pocket and popped it open. The sight of the sharp steel stilled her. When the blade pressed into the back of her finger, she sucked a breath. He slid it to her knuckles, across the back of her hand, sawing at the lamp’s wires still wrapped around her palm, not stopping until the pressure of the cord released and the lamp dangling from the wire slammed to the floor.
A satisfied smirk stretched across his lips. The blade continued its journey down her arm and across her chest. While it moved, Ally stayed rigid, watching the steel’s descent.
The blade stopped at the base of her collarbone and ascended her neck until its tip pressed against the soft skin beneath her chin.
He pushed it up making her raise her gaze to meet his. “Look over the door,” he whispered. “They are watching every fucking thing we’re doing.”
From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the direction he indicated. A few feet above the threshold was a vent. It wasn’t the grime staining the once-white slits black that caught her attention. Behind the slits, something reflected the lights from the room.
“Believe me now?”
Aware of the pressure from the tip of the blade positioned below her chin, she didn’t nod, nor did she speak.
“Good.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Here’s what needs to happen.”
Her arms restrained over her head, her fingers clawed the air, and her body shuddered at the feel of his breath against her skin.
“I won’t hurt you.” He lowered his mouth, his lips brushing against her jaw. “But we need to make this look real. I’m going to put my hands on your chest, and when I do, push me off and make your way to the far-left corner behind me, beside the dresser.”
Ally slammed her eyes shut when his tongue traced a path down the side of her neck. Memories of Sayeed overwhelmed her. Her brain screamed for her to stay still and listen while the rest of her screamed to fight him. When his mouth pressed against the corner of hers, she moved her face away.
“That’s the blind spot.” His lips brushed her skin when he spoke. “Make your way there. I’m going to try to stop you and I expect you to give them a show. Understood?”
His proximity. His touch. All of it was more than she could handle. When he released his hold on her wrists and palmed her breast, she shoved him and the blade still positioned beneath her chin away.
His arms stretched open, and in a dramatic display, he fell onto his back, sliding backward on the floor. The knife thudded to the ground several feet away, and Ally did exactly what he’d told her to do—she gave the viewers a show.
Instead of moving toward the blind spot he told her to go to, she ran straight to the only door in the room and turned the knob, rattling the wood a few times before working on the latch. She waited until he stood behind her to face him. When he reached for her, she ducked out of his way and slipped around him, making her way to the blind spot, the corner beside the dresser.
Her back against the wall, she watched as he stalked her. The welt along his jaw from where the plug dug into him stretched a few inches long, and little bubbles of red had formed. Rips along the shoulder of his gray tee were stained red with blood from where the bulb had shattered into it. And in his hand was the blade from earlier.
Her heart raced at the rage darkening his face and at the way the light danced on the knife. He was pretending, she reminded herself, but her body couldn’t comprehend her words. It looked and felt too real. Wave after wave of terror and desperation hit her, transporting her to a past she thought she’d put to rest a long time ago.
His blade never touched her skin. Instead, it slipped onto the red-handled base he gripped. He winked. “I liked the run to the door. Nice touch.”
Ally blinked a few times, reining in the terror surging through her. She didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure how to respond.
Rafi’s smile faltered. “Now I need to make a call and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with you.” He pressed his body against hers while his hand fiddled in his jeans pocket. “I’m just getting my phone.”
“I need space, please,” she whispered.
He stepped back an inch and made his call. Neither of them moved much less spoke as they waited for the person on the other end to answer. A woman’s voice echoed on the other end.
“Asset secured. But we’re being watched,” Rafi announced.
She couldn’t hear what the voice on the other end said, but it was a detailed drawn out explanation.
Rafi’s dark eyes, framed by long thick lashes, stared at the wall beside her head. When he met her gaze, he nodded and returned to his staring match with the wall.
Messy, wavy, black hair crowned a round face of rich dark brown. A scar ran across the side of his cheek by his ear. He was a handsome man. An unrefined type of handsome, one who had secrets. His mouth curved down in a frown at whatever the person on the other end had just said.
“You take care of your end, I’ll take care of mine.” He closed the flip phone and shrugged. “We need to stay like this for a little while longer.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“I don’t have a choice.” He smirked. “Eddie and Sin have both sworn they’ll kill me if I let anything happen to you. I enjoy breathing.”
Ally stared at the phone in his hand. “Which one were you just talking to?”
“The scarier of the two.” Rafi chuckled. “Sin. She’s not happy I let Wassim rough you up.”
The buzzing of his cell made him grin. “There she is.” He returned the
phone to his ear and listened before closing it. Rafi stepped back and stretched out his arms. “You are now safe to move about the room.”
He pulled out a handkerchief from his jeans pocket and handed it to her. She didn’t move. He tipped his chin at her and pointed at her mouth. “You’re bleeding.”
She eyed the red staining his shoulder. “So are you.”
The edge of his lips curved up. “Although I’m impressed with your skills, trust me, it’s nothing to worry about. You, on the other hand, are our VIP.”
She stiffened when he reached for her face. Rafi hesitated until she nodded, and then pressed the handkerchief against the cut along her cheek. As if to prove his point, after he wiped it off, he showed her the streaks of red dampening the white fabric. “There’s another one under your eye.”
She took the offered handkerchief and wiped away the evidence of Wassim’s attacks.
“You might have glass in there.” She pointed at the blood streaking down his arm past his elbow.
Rafi inspected his collar. “I guess I do.” He pulled off his shirt and picked out the shards embedded in his skin, tossing them on the floor.
Ally took the time to wander the room. She stared at the bed, deep in thought. With Rafi, Eddie, Sin, and whoever else in the background, their chances of apprehending Wassim were good, but he would never help Jayden. She considered herself an ethical person. Someone who did the right thing no matter the cost, and yet she found herself considering Eddie’s suggestion from earlier. A suggestion she considered very wrong. What if they took what Jayden needed from his father, regardless if he consented? It wouldn’t kill Wassim, and as much pain as he’d caused others…
“I’m pretty sure you’ll end up with an STD just by sitting on it.” Rafi stood beside her, pointing at the dark, still-wet stains on the sheets from previous couples who’d used the space. He’d bunched up his tee and kept it pressed on the wounds on his shoulder as he continued. “Shortly, all hell will break loose. The lights will go out throughout the entire building. And when that happens, I will head out the door and leave you in here.”
