Stolen Love (The Wildheart Duet Book 1)

by Murphy Wallace

  Several people clap softly and Marshall turns to me and asks, “That night, I asked you to trust me. Do you remember that?”

  “Of course.” I answer.

  “And you trusted me then, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you ever, at any point, regret giving me your trust?”

  “No.” I say before moving closer to him and whispering, “What, exactly, is this about?”

  “Tonight, I need to ask for your trust again.” I shoot him another suspicious look. “I need you to trust me when I tell you that you’re the most beautiful and amazing person that I’ve ever met. I need you to trust that I will always take care of you. I need you to trust that you are the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with. Last, I need you to trust me when I tell you that I can’t live without you.”

  My eyes start misting over once I begin to realize what he is doing. Before I know it, he gets down on one knee, in front of me and it’s as if all of the other people in the room disappear. As if the band stops playing, but the music lives on inside of my heart and my head.

  “Adrienne Florence Hamilton, I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Will you please do me the greatest honor, and agree to be my wife? Please, say yes, and trust that I will spend the rest of our lives showing you exactly how much you mean to me.”

  With tears running down my face, I can do nothing more than stand there, hand over my mouth in shock, and nod my head up and down.

  He stands up, pulls a ring out of his pocket and places it on my left hand. Then, he leans down and kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before.

  His arms wrap around me as the singer of the band starts delivering one of the most beautiful renditions of “The Way You Look Tonight” that I’ve ever heard. As he leads me across the dance floor, Marshall sings along with the band. His voice is magical.

  “You can sing?” I ask him. I’m trying not to sound shocked, but I had no idea that he was such a talented singer.

  “Shhh… it’s our little secret,” he says. “I’ve never told anyone before.”

  “Marshall, I am so overwhelmed. This place, the things you said, your beautiful voice. Oh, my God, this ring!” I finally look at it.

  It is huge! A princess-cut stone with pave diamonds decorating the platinum band. The diamond has to be close to two carats.

  “It’s the biggest thing that I’ve ever seen! It’s too much, Marshall.”

  “It’s perfect, just like you.”

  “I’m far from perfect, Marshall.”

  “But you’re perfect for me.”

  Present Day

  Lana

  The pit is typical of a medieval torture chamber, but the tools are more up-to-date. It’s a round room, about 50 feet in diameter, with 20 foot high, stone walls. The floor is made of concrete that slopes slightly inward toward the center of the room, leading toward a drain. In the center of the room is where Lock's victims are put on full display for all to view as they are tortured.

  The room is lined with every instrument you could use to torment, violate, virtually bring them to the brink of death; knives, drills, hammers, pliers, wrenches, whips, brass knuckles are the tamest of his tools.

  Lock gave me a tour of the pit once, within the first month or two after I remember waking up. We spent hours in here. He went through slowly, teaching me the names and uses of each item, and even demonstrated a few of them on me and some on his men.

  Clockwise from the entrance the collection is complete with a Judas Cradle on the left side, a Rack straight ahead, a tank on the right, used for numerous types of torture involving water - water-boarding, boiling, exposure. This, he later explained is where, in the winter time, he would dunk his prisoner in the tank and reel them back out, over and over again. The prisoner would eventually freeze to death.

  In closer to the center of the room there is a gurney and a pair of chains that are on a track so Lock can move them around to use them all over the room.

  When we enter, Barrett is hanging from the chains in the center of the room. He’s been beaten, but not nearly as much as he will be.

  Lock orders me to stand to the side. When he lets me go, I try again to run, screaming as he catches me and leads me back inside the room.

  “Carter! Reese! Grab a hold of her!” Reese wraps one arm around my head and the other around my shoulders, effectively keeping me locked into my front row seat to Lock’s room of horror.

  Once he sees that I’m not going anywhere, Lock turns his attention to me but continues to talk to Reese. “I want her to see this.”

  He leans down and kisses me once before pulling back and biting down on my bottom lip. As he drags his teeth along my skin, he gets that crazed look in his eyes again.

  “Barrett, Barrett, Barrett… we have a bit of a situation here, don’t we?” Lock begins.

  Barrett immediately starts whimpering through his gag. Though his voice is muffled you know what he’s asking of Lock; the sounds of someone begging for their life are unmistakable.

  “Where were you this morning Barrett?” Lock asks as he walks over and removes the fabric from Barrett’s mouth.

  “Please, you have to give me a chance to explain!” he begs.

  Lock reaches back and punches him in the face so hard that blood goes everywhere, making it look like his nose just exploded. His head shoots backward and flies forward again, no doubt giving him wicked whiplash.

  “I don’t have to do anything,” Lock answers in an eerily calm tone.

  Barret hangs there fighting to catch his breath.

  “Now, please tell us all about why you couldn’t do your fucking job and make sure that Marshall mother-fucking Trent didn’t get so close to us that he was almost able to shoot my wife and I!”

  Barrett takes a deep breath before answering, “My girl, she was rushed to the hospital because her water broke, but she’s a month out from her due date. I’m— I’m a father now.”

  Lock stands there, staring, seething. This isn’t good, especially after the morning that we had at Liza’s office. He stands tall and walks over to Barrett. His eyebrows furrow and for a moment, he appears to be concerned.

  “And how are the mother and baby doing?” I’m certain that the look of shock that Barrett has on his face mirrors my own. What is Lock getting at?

  “They’re well. Baby is healthy.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Barrett says, taking a deep, calming breath. “Again, I’m so sorry about—”

  “What I meant was, I’m glad to hear that they’re healthy, considering they won’t have a husband and father around to take care of them.”

  Shit.

  “Skylar, bring me the scissors, the bolt cutters, and a bucket of cold water.”

  I scream. I can’t bear to watch this and poor Barrett shouldn’t be put through this agony. I’ve never cared for him, but that was simply because he worked for Lock. He was never mean to me the way some others were, like Skylar and Reese. But that doesn’t mean that he deserves to be tortured like this.

  Lock comes over to me then and I immediately think that he is going to attack me. I try to shrink away from him, but the grip that Reese has on me is too much to fight against.

  “Shhh. Lana, baby, it’s okay.” He cups both sides of my face with his hands and kisses me. I scrunch my face up in disgust.

  Skylar brings him what he asked for and he turns his attention back to Barrett.

  First, using the scissors, he cuts off all of Barrett’s clothing so he is fully nude. Then, he takes the bolt cutters and starts cutting away at Barrett’s dick.

  The sound that comes out of Barrett’s mouth guts me. I’m sick instantly. Heaving in Reese’s arms, I vomit and it ends up all over both of us.

  “Ughh— you stupid bitch!” Reese yells at me.

  “Let me go then, asshole!”

  “Reese, man the fuck up and make sure you have a good hold on her,” Lock
screams from across the room.

  I look up and see that he’s accomplished what it was that he wanted to. It looks like Barrett has passed out from the pain.

  “Skylar, bring me the bucket of water.”

  Lock throws it on Barrett and it shocks him awake with a gasp. Carter is just standing there off to the side. His face is white and he looks like he may be the next person to pass out.

  “There you are. You left for a moment. I was getting worried.” Lock jests. “Skylar, I need my pliers and my knife.”

  Lock presses on with the torture for the next hour, but it feels like an eternity. He carves lines into Barrett’s skin repeatedly with his knife, each mark dribbling blood down the length of his body.

  He pulls all of his teeth out with his pliers. He uses his brass knuckles and beats him in the kidneys, stomach, ribs, and face so badly that the man is unrecognizable.

  He uses something called a Pear of Anguish in Barrett’s anus, which is a pear shaped instrument, consisting of four metal leaves that slowly separate from each other by turning the handle.

  The torture is slow and daunting as Lock pauses a few times to come over and say things to me such as, “Can’t you see how much I love you? Do you see what lengths I will go to in order to protect you? Do you now understand how much you mean to me?”

  Finally, when Barrett is within an inch of his life, Lock stops. He walks over to where Reese and I are standing and says, “That’s all I’m going to do.”

  He reaches out to me with bloody hands and pulls me in for a hug, kissing me sweetly on top of my head. I push away from him as much as he lets me, looking up at him, and ask, “May I please go to my room now?”

  “But we’re not finished down here.”

  “I thought you just said you were done.”

  “Oh, I am done. But Barrett did both of us a disservice. So now it’s your turn. I want you to finish him off.”

  My blood turns to ice.

  “No!” I shout at him. “I won’t do it. He’s had enough! He’s learned his lesson! Please Lock, let him go.”

  “Let him go? After what he did? He doesn’t deserve to live!”

  “He went to see his baby being born, you sick son-of-a-bitch!” I scream at him as I slap him across the face. My eyes go wide with terror as I realize what I’ve just done. I crossed the line.

  “Carter, bring me your gun.” Lock asks while staring me dead in the eyes.

  I start shaking thinking he is going to shoot me. When Carter gives him his gun, he hands it to me and says, “Take it.”

  “Lock, please, don’t make me do this. I can’t do it.” Tears begin falling from my eyes like a waterfall.

  “You can do it. You will do it.” He cocks the gun back, picks up my hand and places the gun in my palm. A loaded gun, and it’s in my possession.

  Lock must have read the look on my face, because within seconds, he raises his gun to my head and says, “Or I’ll shoot you.”

  Reese loosens his grip on me at Lock’s nod. My hand is still out straight with the gun sitting in my palm. I am shaking harder than I ever have before. I can’t end someone’s life. It will kill me. But if I don’t do it, Lock will kill me. Maybe it would be better if Lock did shoot me. Or maybe I’ll just turn the gun on myself? I’ve wanted out of this life for so long now and this could be the way.

  “Get the fuck on with it, Lana! Get your ass over there and shoot him before I shoot you.”

  He forces my hand to close over the handle of the gun and moves my body toward the center of the room in front of Barrett. With every step I take, I war with myself over what to do.

  “I’m going to count to three, and if you haven’t shot him by the time I’m done, I’m going to shoot you and then I’ll shoot him myself. One…”

  I could shoot myself, but there is a chance that Lock will be able to stop me before I even get the gun up to my head. There’s also a possibility that I could miss. Or I could let Lock do it, he wouldn’t miss.

  “Two…”

  Am I really ready to put an end to it all? There is still a part of me that knows that this can’t be all that there is for me in life. A small part of me believes that I will be happy one day.

  But the majority of me is tired of fighting. I feel like I’ve been fighting for so long. I’m always walking on eggshells. I’m always so unsure of myself.

  My anxiety is wound so tight that I can barely breathe. Do I really want to wait around for the other shoe to drop? Do I want to continue down this path of uncertainty with Lock?

  I don’t know what to do. I just want to be free!

  “I’m sorry…” I whisper to no one. I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I lift my arm to aim the gun at my temple.

  “Three!”

  BANG!

  December 2012

  Marshall

  No matter where I am, if I have Adrienne in my arms, it’s my most favorite place in the whole wide world.

  As we move with one another over the dance floor, I can see everyone else in the room start to make their way closer to us. Adrienne doesn’t know this, but I’ve invited all of our friends and family here tonight and we have the entire place to ourselves.

  Despite being embarrassed by all of the attention, I knew that she would love having everyone here. One by one, each couple makes it to the center of the room to join us.

  Adrienne has her forehead pressed against my chin and her eyes are closed, completely enthralled by our dance. I kiss her head, whispering “look” in her ear before spinning her around so she can see everyone. I can feel her gasp before she brings a hands to her mouth in shock.

  “Oh my gosh, you guys!” she squeals. As all of the girls rush forward to hug and congratulate her, my dad, my business partner, and the rest of the guys greet me with handshakes and slaps on the back.

  “You did well, son.” My dad says as he wraps me in a hug.

  Ever since I was little, my dad has always been my biggest supporter. So to have his blessing and support is extremely important to me.

  “Thanks, dad.” I take a deep breath before letting it out, trying to calm my nerves now that the hardest part of the night is over.

  I turn my attention to my business partner, who is standing next to my dad. “Hey, Lock.” I bring him in for a man hug before continuing, “Thanks so much for supervising the set up. It looks amazing in here.”

  “Ah, it’s no big deal. Glad I could help.” He smiles at me, but it’s a weak smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

  To say that it’s out of character for him isn’t exactly true. He’s been pulling away more and more lately. I need to get to the bottom of it. If there is something that he needs, something that I can do to help, then I want to be there for him.

  He nods before turning and walking to his seat. The waiters have finished pushing all of the tables together to form one, long table where everyone can fit.

  I walk over to Adrienne who is busy talking to Noelle and Leah, as well as Courtney, her supervisor, and a couple of her other friends.

  “Hello, ladies,” I greet them.

  “Marshall, I’m so happy for you!” Noelle states while pulling me in for a hug.

  “Thank you Noelle, that means a lot.” I take Adrienne’s hand in mine and say, “It means a lot to both of us that you, Dad, and Leah are all here tonight.”

  Leah walks forward and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you, big brother!” I shoot her a smile and a wink.

  “Let’s head over to the table, sweetheart.” I look at Adrienne. “I’m sure you’re starving.”

  Adrienne

  By the time we make it over to the table, the wait staff is filling everyone’s glasses with champagne and taking additional drink orders. I pick up my glass of water and take a few sips, needing something to cool me down. To say that I am exhilarated at the moment is a gross understatement.

  I take another look at the ring on my finger. It’s absolutely the most beautiful
thing that I’ve ever worn in my entire life. Marshall clears his throat beside me.

  “Do you like it? If not, we can exchange it for a different one.”

  “I would never! It’s breathtaking. I love it, but not nearly as much as I love you.”

  “I’m so glad that you love it. Seeing you this happy means everything in the world to me.”

  At that moment, the waiters come out with our drinks as well as the first course; grilled pear salad with chevre and pine nuts in a raspberry vinaigrette. This is followed by escargot cooked in butter, garlic, and parsley. Our main dish is Magret de Canard, which Marshall explains to me is duck breast.

  After we had all finished eating, the wait staff brings out individual sized chocolate soufflés and coffee. Once again, Marshall stands up.

  “I wanted to thank everyone, again, for coming out tonight to help us celebrate our engagement. However, today is very special for another reason as well. Adrienne completed grad school and is now a Licensed Certified Social Worker - Clinical —” he looks over at me and says, “Did I get that right?”

  I smile at him say, “You got it.”

  “—and I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of you. So, in addition to celebrating our engagement, I also want to help you celebrate your accomplishment with this.”

  He asks me to join him before handing me a thick manila envelope. I look at him, confusion swirling in my head. “Open it,” he says.

  I tear open the envelope. There is a thick packet of paper, and a letter from the IRS on the top. Without reading the heading, I skip right to the body of the letter.

  It mentions something about being exempt from Federal income tax under section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code. Confused, I look back at the top of the paper. It’s addressed to the Hamilton Youth Foundation. What? I look up at Marshall, bewildered.

  “Keep reading,” is all he says.