by L. A. Casey
I heard shouting then.
“There is no need for that language, or for the yelling, I’m on the phone with you, not a thousand miles away. I can hear you perfectly.”
He was such a dickhead.
I jumped and opened my eyes when the phone was pressed to my ear.
“Confirm you’re here.”
I licked my lips and said, “Kane?”
I heard sharp intakes of breath, then a whimper or two. Big Phil then pulled the phone away and put it on speaker so he could hear what was being said to me.
“I’m here,” he said. “We all are.”
I heard the echo on Kane’s end—he had me on speakerphone, too.
My eyes instantly pooled with tears.
“Let ‘im kill me, okay? Don’t come for me, he plans to kill you all just to get to you Kane—”
Big Phil pulled the phone away from my ear and punched me in the stomach, which caused me wheeze, and choke on air as blinding pain consumed me. He hit me on the head once more but I barely felt that over the agony in my stomach. I felt a sharp tug as he fisted his hand in my hair one more time. It took a minute, but when I could focus on something other than my pain, I heard all sorts of screaming coming from the phone in Big Phil’s hand.
“Stop,” my sister pleaded. “Please, stop hurtin’ her. She’s done nothin’ wrong! Please.”
“I will kill you for this, Philip,” Ryder cut in, his voice menacing. “What you do to her, consider it child’s play compared to what I will do to you.”
My heart jumped the second I heard his voice and was shocked at the instant anger I had towards him but still wanted nothing more than to be in his arms.
“You probably will, but I plan to put your brother down, too, boy. Let’s see who can make good on their promise first.”
Before Ryder could reply, Big Phil walked over to the fireplace, took something from the mantle piece, and then advanced back on me. I was whimpering in pain already, but when I saw what was in his hand I screamed.
“No!” I pleaded. “Stay away from me.”
He had a blade of some sort in his hand, it was sharp, long and I knew it was going to be inside of some part of my body soon. I fought against my restraints with that knowledge. Without speaking to me, or acknowledging my pleas in any way, Big Phil kneeled before me and jammed the blade into my thigh and pulled, slicing my flesh open.
The scream that tore out of me was one you would hear in a horror film.
“Branna!” Ryder roared, but this time his voice sounded far away.
I heard Kane’s shouts from the speakerphone, too, but everything blended together except the pain I felt. It consumed me, and with every pulse of my beating heart, it became more agonising.
Big Phil lied; he was going to kill me, because my body couldn’t take much more.
I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder then, and when I looked to see what was causing it, I widened my eyes as I watched the blade that cut my thigh, being pulled from my shoulder. I stared at my now bleeding wound and felt lightheaded.
He stabbed me. Again.
“Omigod,” I whispered and continued to stare at it.
Surprisingly, I didn’t move a muscle; instead I sat still as I felt blood seep out of the hole that now marred my shoulder.
Things were quiet and eerily peaceful in that moment until suddenly the shock of what just happened wore off and the agony set in. I cried out when what felt like fire filled my shoulder, and thigh then quickly turned to a sickening throbbing. Each pain pulse reminding me that this was real, and not some sick nightmare.
I’m really somebody’s captive, and he is really going to kill me.
“Stop your screaming,” Big Phil hissed. “They’re just flesh wounds, not deep enough for you to bleed out, so stop.”
Oh, they were just flesh wounds. That made them not hurt.
“Ryder?” he suddenly said, tapping on the screen on his phone and placing it against his ear. “Are you still there?”
I held my breath when Big Phil spoke even though the throbbing in my shoulder and thigh demanded I scream to release some of the pain I felt.
“I’m going to cut to the chase, I want Kane for Branna.”
Silence.
“You want to test me right now?” the sick fuck laughed. “I’m putting you back on speaker. I want you to hear her more clearly so you understand I’m not playing.”
He put his phone down on the table close by and he advanced on me once more, his eyes locked on me with a sick smirk on his face.
“Get away from me,” I pleaded then screamed bloody murder when he reached me and grabbed hold of my wounded shoulder, pressing his thumb into the wound.
“I’ll kill you!” Ryder’s voice screamed through the phone.
Big Phil laughed some more as he moved away from me and picked up the poker from the fire. I cried then, tears falling from my eyes in streams.
“Please,” I sobbed. “Please don’t do this. I’m beggin’ you.”
My pleas only fuelled him on, and in seconds he was standing before me holding the burning red head poker inches away from my skin. I could already feel the boiling heat from it, and I whimpered in fear.
“Tell Ryder what I have in my hand, Branna.”
“A…a hot poker.” I answered, my voice shaking.
Big Phil nodded. “And what am I going to do with it?”
I cried. “Please, don’t.”
“You’re bleeding more than I’d like, so it has to be done.” He said to me making it sound like he was doing me a favour.
“You shouldn’t have stabbed me then!” I shouted.
Big Phil ignored me, and pressed the hot end of the poker against my wound and for a few seconds I was consumed by darkness. I came to just as the same blinding pain consumed my leg and I blacked out once more, my body falling to the side and hitting the floor with a loud thud.
“Branna?” Ryder’s voice screamed. “BRANNA?”
“Shut up fucking screaming!” Big Phil snapped as he lifted the chair, and me, back to an upright position. “She’s fine, just passed out for a second. I used the scalding poker end to burn her wounds to stop her bleeding. You’re welcome.”
“When I fucking get my hands on you,” Ryder swore, “I’m going to kill you slowly. I’m going to make you beg for death!”
“I’m not afraid to die,” Big Phil dryly replied. “It’s only a heartbeat away.”
I willed myself to stay awake, though my body pleaded desperately to succumb to the bliss that was darkness. I managed to open my eyes in time to see that the next thing Big Phil cut was the restraints on my ankles and wrists. I fell forward when my limbs fell free, but he caught me and hauled me over to the big sofa near the fire. He dropped me onto it, and it was the stupidest thing to think of considering the circumstances, but the sofa was like landing on a soft cloud and for a moment I felt like I was already in Heaven.
“If you move, you’ll be sorry.”
I didn’t reply to Big Phil when he spoke to me because I was simply too weak to. I hurt all over, and felt like never moving again. I heard more talking and shouting coming from both parties on the phone, but I couldn’t pay attention any longer and I allowed myself to fall into sweet, sweet darkness.
“Wake up.”
Those two words were the first thing I heard, the second was my own heartbeat, and the third was my scream as it tore from my throat. Pain. So much fucking pain. It filled me from head to toe and it was constant.
I opened my eyes and whimpered when I realised I was still trapped in Hell.
“Please,” I pleaded to no one. “Please, help me.”
My voice sounded scratchy, and felt like it needed a big glass of water to soothe away the ache in my throat.
“They’re in the building,” Big Phil mumbled, making his presence known. “I just buzzed them in.”
I had no idea who he was talking to; I looked at him and found him gazing out of the window with a gun in one hand, and
a glass of brown liquid in the other. My eyes lingered on the gun for a few moments, and I prayed to God that he wouldn’t use it.
“Wha-what are you sayin’?” I asked as I lifted my right arm and used my hand to press against my left wounded shoulder in an attempt to stop the pulsing sting.
“The Slaters,” Big Phil replied. “I just buzzed them into the building, they’ll be here soon. I unlocked the front door for them.”
What?
“Why?” I asked, trying to control my sobs. “Why did they come?”
“For you,” he replied and took a sip from his glass. “I told you they would.”
“You can’t hurt them, please, just—”
“Be. Quiet.” He growled. “This isn’t about you anymore. You can leave if you want to, you have served your purpose.”
I made an attempt to sit up, but hot pain filled my leg keeping me from doing so. When I jerked in response to the pain, I fell to the side, off the sofa, and hit the floor with a sickening smack.
“Branna?”
Kane.
“No!” I cried. “Get away!
I heard quick paced footsteps, then a loud bang as the door to the sitting room was swung open and cracked against the wall.
“Oh, my God,” I heard Kane rasp.
I tried to turn over to see him, but I couldn’t. I was so weak, and hurting so much that even breathing was a struggle.
“Kane,” I groaned. “Get out.”
While you still can.
“What the fuck have you done to her?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“It looks worse than it is,” Big Phil responded as he turned around. “She brought most of it on herself if I’m being honest.”
“Kane,” I rasped as I forced myself to roll onto my back. “Run, he has a gun!”
I reached up with my good arm, gripped onto the arm of the sofa and pulled myself into a sitting position. I blinked when I saw Kane standing mere metres away from me. He was dressed… odd. It looked like he had on hospital scrubs, and booties people wore over there shoes when then didn’t want to get dirt or stain on a floor.
“He doesn’t want to shoot me,” Kane replied to me, but kept his eyes on Big Phil. “He wants me to suffer like I made his piece of shit kid suffer. A bullet will be too quick.”
Fear gripped me when Big Phil dropped his glass to the ground and didn’t flinch when it smashed to pieces. I screamed when he lifted his hand that contained the gun and pointed it directly at Kane’s head.
“Where are the rest of your brothers’?” Big Phil asked, sounding eerily calm.
“At home… it took a lot of convincing, especially with my oldest brother who wants to tear you limb from limb for hurting his woman… but they know ending your miserable life is my task. Mine alone. I’ll make you pay for everything.”
Big Phil sneered. “The student has come to take out the master, huh?”
“Something like that,” Kane growled through gritted teeth.
Big Phil gestured to Kane’s cover-ups with the gun he still had trained on him.
“You want no trace of you ever being here, do you?” he humourlessly sniggered. “If you manage to kill me, you won’t need to have gone to such extremes. This apartment may look nice because I did it up, but the rest of the place is a dive. No cameras, no security, and no paper trails. The son of a bitch who owns this place made the rooms sound proof too, he runs a brothel on the first five floors, and I’m pretty sure he runs a drug cocktail lab on the sixth.”
“Is that why you picked here?” I asked, my voice sounding like sandpaper. “Killin’ us, and then yourself, won’t draw attention… not until your rent is due at least.”
Big Phil sniggered, and I took his merriment as a big whopping yes.
“You’re going to off yourself?” Kane probed Big Phil. “Really?”
“What’s left for me once you’re dead?” he grilled.
Kane didn’t acknowledge the question, instead he asked, “Do you really want to shoot me, or do you just want me to hurt? All those times you hit me and stabbed me with needles to punish me, and now you switch to bullets? Have you lost your creativity? Does burying a hell-bound child do that to you?”
I wanted to tell Kane to stop, because with each verbal jab, Big Phil’s face was getting redder and redder.
“This is for Johnny.” Big Phil suddenly exclaimed then surprised me by dropping the gun to the floor. “This is for everything you have put me through.”
“You’re my last job, you son of a bitch!” Kane spat before he ran at Big Phil, and speared him to the ground.
The sickening sound of fists connecting with flesh would forever be seared into my brain. It was relentless, and I wanted it to end as quickly as it begun.
I could do nothing but watch Kane and Big Phil roll around on the floor, but I was delighted to see that Kane had the upper hand. He was landing all the hits… it almost looked like Big Phil wasn’t even trying to fight him back. I knew how much of a snake he could be though, so I used my good leg to push myself up into a standing position, and I hobbled over to where he dropped the handgun.
The pain I felt surged me on, and when I picked up the gun, I allowed my adrenaline to take over.
“Kane, move!” I ordered.
He turned his head so he could look at me, and his eyes widened almost instantly.
“Branna, no!” he shouted and hit Big Phil once more across the face so he could break free and jump to his feet.
With Kane out of the way I had a clear view of Big Phil and was shaking as I pointed the gun at him. I squinted my eyes to make sure my aim was precise.
“Branna, no!” Kane said again, but this time his voice was different, like he was pleading without having to beg.
My arms were trembling as I kept the gun aimed at Big Phil, my body was weakened and exhausted from the torture he had put me through. The gun was heavier than it looked and it caused my arms to ache from holding it up in the air for just a few short moments.
“Branna, this is not your call, okay? Look at me,” Kane said, his voice firm but soothing at the same time. I flicked my eyes to his. He slowly came to my side, and carefully lifted his hand to mine, but I quickly stepped away when his intentions became clear. He wanted the gun.
“He isn’t worth it, Bran.”
Kane was right… Big Phil wasn’t worth it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to die.
“Look what he has done to you.” I snivelled. “To our family!”
“We’re still a family,” Kane assured me. “And he has no hold over me anymore. He has nothing. He is nothing.”
I began to lower the gun, until finally it hung in my hand by my side.
“Good girl,” Kane breathed in relief, his shoulders sagging. “It’s all going to be—”
“Kane!” I screamed when Big Phil pushed himself from the floor, and charged at Kane. Every thing felt like it happened in slow motion. Big Phil grabbed the knife he used to hurt me from the table he rushed past, and sprinted at Kane with the knife-wielding arm raised.
Kane swung around, and grabbed hold of Big Phil’s arm as he began to bring it down in his direction. They both struggled for the knife, and I saw the muscles and veins in Kane’s are bulge as he used all his might to keep Big Phil’s arm at bay. My arm was raised once more and the gun was pointed straight ahead, but I didn’t pull the trigger because I didn’t have a clear shot. I couldn’t risk hitting Kane.
I tensed when the pair of them hit the floor, for a moment there was grunts, and fumbled movements, then the next there was a sharp intake of breath, and everything went still. Kane was on top of Big Phil, but neither of them were moving.
I heard my heartbeat in my ear as I approached them.
“Kane,” I whispered.
Silence.
Oh, please, no.
“Kane,” I said a little louder.
I heard a wheeze then and rasp of, “I’m okay.”
Relief smacked into me like a tidal wa
ve.
I watched as Kane rolled of Big Phil and groggily pushed himself to his feet. He stumbled for a second then steadied himself. He looked down at a still unmoving Big Phil then he turned and walked towards me. Before he could reach me, I dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes when I saw the scene before me.
The blade that was used to stab my thigh and shoulder… it was lodged in the centre of Big Phil’s chest.
“Oh, my God,” I breathed.
“Branna, slow your breathing—”
“Is he dead?” I cut Kane off, my chest tight with fear. “Is he fuckin’ dead?”
“Yeah,” he replied, calmly. “He took his last breath, and I saw the life leave his eyes. I saw the moment he realised I was going to be the last thing he saw before he died, so I smiled.”
Christ.
“Oh, my God,” I rasped. “He is dead. Oh, we’re goin’ to prison. We’re seriously goin’—”
“We’re aren’t going anywhere if you do exactly what I say.”
What?
“Kane?” I whispered. “I’m scared.”
He dropped to his knees next to me, and his eyes scanned over my body and grew dark when they landed on my stab wounds, spilled blood and other injuries. He carefully reached out and slipped an arm under my legs, and the other under my back.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Sorry?
“For wha—” I cut myself of with a moan of pain when he lifted me up into the air, and the movement caused my wounded limbs to burn in protest. He quickly moved me back to the sofa and gently lay me down.
“You have to call the cops,” he quickly said. “I’m going to leave down the back entrance when you do. There are no cameras in this building, but to make sure I’m not picked up on surrounding business’ cameras, I’ll use the back exit. You have to call them and say you’ve been kidnapped.”
I didn’t have time to argue with him even if I wanted to because he thrust the phone Big Phil used to call Kane into my face, so I grabbed it and dialled 999 before I lost my nerve. Almost instantly someone replied.
“999, what is your emergency?”
