Absorbing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “Come on out, Elizabeth Scott,” he says as he points the light back downwards again. The voice is familiar. I don’t know it, but the tone resonates somehow. “It’s time.”

  Time for what?

  He turns his back and begins to walk away. Part of me is desperate to stay in my cave with my rock. Nothing happens here. It’s safe. But I have to know what’s going on. Does this that mean Alex is here somewhere? I’m walking towards him so fast I trip over a large boulder and crash to the floor before I get to him. He stops and turns back to me, his torch now trained on me so I can’t see again. “Careful,” he says as he reaches a hand down. My breathing accelerates three fold as I recognise that hand. All the lines are in the same place, the nail beds the same, the length of the fingers, width of the palm, even the tone of his voice now echoes around my head.

  “Alex?” I mumble out.

  “Close,” he replies as he grabs my hand and lifts me up in front of him. I instantly stumble back from him as his face comes into view, snatching my hand from his as I go.

  “You’re, you’re...” That’s all I’ve got as dark blue eyes bore into me. So cold, just like his son’s used to appear to me. There is no mistaking who this man is because I can see Alex in every feature. Every contour is etched with the same lines, cheekbones, brow bone, his mouth, nose. He may be older, but even his frame stands as Alex’s does. Tall. Strong. Dominant. Evil.

  “Richard Adlin, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  I have nothing, absolutely nothing. The immediate urge to kill this man is coursing through me. My arms clamp around me to keep me away from him. He reeks of deceit and lies, and there is nothing warm in his voice. All I can see is a four-year-old boy standing by his feet and crying, bruises littered all over his body and broken bones aching as he waits quietly for the next beating to come.

  “I hate you,” I spit out.

  “Yes, I thought you might,” he replies slowly as he turns and begins walking again. “Still, if you want to see my son again, I would suggest you follow me.”

  Alex is here. I need to get to him and help him, or he needs to help me. I’m not sure which, but the arrival of his bastard father has me infuriated. Picking up the front of my dress, I stomp after him with my best in control face planted on and step out of my safe place. There are tunnels and corridors leading off everywhere, and it quickly dawns on me that I’m in a mine of some sort, or maybe an old nuclear shelter. The ground beneath us is still made of chalk dust as I clip along it with my heels and try to maintain my balance, but it’s harder here, as if it’s been trodden on for years and worn down. Dust flies around as I watch the bastard shining his torch towards the end of the tunnel and fight off the need to stab him in the head with something.

  Eventually, a huge room comes into view. It’s obviously an old meeting place of some sort. There are tables and chairs dotted around and a light source coming from the other side of it. I weave my way around things until we reach another doorway, where he turns and looks at me.

  “I’ll warn you now, it’s not overly pretty in here, and if I didn’t need you to make him see sense then I wouldn’t make you part of it. Unfortunately, he’s as stubborn as I am,” he says with a smile and a nod at the door.

  “What? I...” What the hell is happening? He opens the door and my hands fly to my mouth.

  There’s blood splattered everywhere. The dirty old walls are covered with red streaks of blood, and as I turn the corner, I can see why. Alex. He’s handcuffed between his legs to a metal chair in the corner, still in the remnants of his tux, with blood across his face. One of the six men grabs me instantly and sits me opposite him on another chair, so I just gaze into his eyes and hope he’s got some sort of plan. There is no pain on his face, no concern either. He just lifts the corner of his mouth at me and then looks back at the others again with a blank stare.

  “Where is it, son?” the bastard asks behind me. Son? I could rip his head off for saying the word. He has absolutely no right whatsoever.

  “I’ve told you. I don’t know,” Alex says quietly. “And no amount of beating me is going to help me find it for you.”

  “Come on, Alex. It was there and now it’s gone. Stop being a dickhead. Don’t make me hurt your little lady to make you see sense,” Aiden says irritably as he comes into view from the corner.

  “As if I give a fuck about her,” he replies, drawing in a long breath and looking at the floor. Once upon a time I would have worried about that response. I would have been scared enough to believe what he said, but not anymore. I know how he works now. This is a distraction technique to make him appear not to care. Probably in the hope that they’ll let me go, or at least not bother going too far on me. Well, I hope it’s that anyway. I stare over at him and put my best shocked face on. Hands grab at the back of my dress and rip open the halter neck until it falls down in front of me, and I’m left with my breasts on display. I instantly go to cover them, but then notice the slight twitch of his mouth, that miniscule muscle that tells me he’s pleased. No one else can see it, and no one else can hear him telling me to stay still, but I can. I can hear him talking to me, asking me to trust him, telling me to just do as he says and everything will be fine. I lower my hands nervously and watch him staring at me.

  “Nice tits,” one of the twats says. I stiffen a little as a hand reaches across my shoulder and grasps at my right boob, roughly.

  “You’re going to give me a floor show now?” Alex says with a chuckle. “I’ve watched other things fuck her. It’s old. I’d frankly rather you just beat me.” That’s a little harsh. I scowl at him in reply and watch him sneer back at me. Don’t listen to me. Stay still. I can hear it plain as day, swirling around my mind just as it did with the two of them – just as it always has, if I think about it. Every time I’ve been nervous of something, there’s always been a voice telling me to just trust him, to just believe him and let him guide me. I never knew that was him, but now I do, and now I can finally hear it, crystal clear. I love you. Stay still. So I do, and I let the idiot grope at me, and then I let the other one walk in front of me and lift my dress up to my thighs, pushing it and dragging his stinking hands along my skin with a lewd smile as others laugh in the background. Is this what’s supposed to be happening? What the hell is he trying to achieve here?

  “There’s no fucking point in that. He clearly doesn’t give a damn about the girl. He’ll just watch us fuck her and probably enjoy it,” Aiden says as he swipes something off the table beside him. My eyes fly around to the noise and I watch him pound the table in fury. I smile to myself at the fact that he’s losing control, and just look back at Alex again as the guy between us disappears again. He’s staring nonchalantly over my head again now, more than likely at his father.

  “What now, Daddy?” he says with chuckle as I hear the clink of metal against metal. I slide my eyes down to see him moving his hands around a little. Is he trying to get out of those cuffs? Where’s Pascal? It’s not possible that this is going on without him being involved somehow. He said he’d find me so he must have told Alex about all this in the first place.

  “Well, son, I just want my money. It’s mine by rights, so if you don’t know where it is then perhaps we should ask Elizabeth instead. It’s not like I’m stealing it from you,” he replies as he walks around in front of me and stands behind Alex with his hands on his shoulders. I stare in horror as I see him flinch. Just the touch of the man is enough to cloud his eyes over with fear. His body may not move, his frame no less bored, but his mind is rolling over every memory he’s got, reminding him of every horrific memory and drowning out his future. I love you. Stay with me. I’m chanting that at him, hoping he can hear it, hoping he’s got enough energy to stop himself falling into the blackness again. He’s no fucking use to anybody there. For once I need that animal to come out and play. We both do.

  “Elizabeth, do you know where my money is?”

  “I... I don’t know what you’re talking
about.” I actually don’t, unfortunately. If I did, I’d tell him without a second thought, because anything to get us out of this would be good.

  “He bought some land in Shanghai, and then when he transferred the money, my special little friend stole it from the account. And now it’s gone. Any ideas?” he asks, now rubbing at Alex’s shoulders and kneading them as if he has some fucking right to touch him.

  “Gone?” I couldn’t give a shit. Just get your hands off my man.

  “Yes, some other whizz of a computer expert must have stolen it from me.” Computer expert? Conner? No, surely Alex would know about that. None of this would be happening if that were the case. He’d have planned it, organised it. I thought Henry was the problem with the Shanghai thing, anyway. What has any of it got to do with this bastard?

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I reply as I scan the room for anything of use. I’m not sure what I expect to do if I find it, but ‘planning’ Beth has apparently got ideas I’m not privy to just yet. I lock onto my bag in the corner then instantly flick my eyes away from it again, wondering if they’ve been in it.

  “Just leave her out of it. Or fuck her. I don’t care, but she doesn’t know anything,” Alex drawls out as I hear the clink of metal again. I throw my eyes back at him and then back at his bastard of a dad in confusion.

  “I think she does, son, and I think if I show her what real pain feels like then she might just remember who the fuck has my money,” the bastard says, now rolling his sleeves up and smiling at me. Oh god, that smile. It’s so much like Alex’s, so much like his sister’s. Sister? Evelyn. She knows computers, doesn’t she? Maybe she’s got something to do with all of this. I never did fucking trust her.

  “I don’t know anything. I would-” The blow to the side of Alex’s head, sending him to the floor, happens so quickly that I hardly have time to blink before the chair is hauled back upright again. Laughter erupts behind me and I just stare in shock as he grunts and shakes his head to right himself again.

  “I think you do, and I’m certain you’ll remember if you’re forced to,” Alex’s dad says without any trace of emotion. I just gaze into his eyes, looking for anything to work with, but there’s nothing. He looks just like Alex in his dark place. Bottomless pools of emptiness stare back at me as he loosens his tie and takes it off. He slowly puts it around Alex’s neck and continues his achingly unhurried movements. They’re measured and precise as he draws the knot upwards and keeps his eyes on mine. Fear races through me as I try to keep myself together somehow. He’s going to strangle him? He can’t do that. “I... I don’t know anything. I promise. If I knew, I would tell you, but I-”

  He pulls it tighter. I get up to stop him but hands slam down on my shoulders to hold me in place. It doesn’t matter how much I struggle; there’s nothing I can do but watch Alex be strangled by his father in front of me. “STOP! Please... I don’t know. It was Henry, wasn’t it? I thought Henry De Ville was doing something.” The bastard immediately loosens the tie a little and looks back at me with a raised brow.

  “Henry DeVille is brainless. Tate has been reasonably useful, but Henry was just a deception. The prat thought he was in control because he knew my son here killed his cousin,” he says with an irritated huff and then a deep intake of breath. “Elizabeth, who’s got my money?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about his business.” Oh god, I wish I did. I’d give anything to know what the hell the man wants as I watch Alex straining against the tightening tie again. The bastard just keeps pulling it. Why would you do that to your son? Why? I can see the veins rising on his throat as his face turns red, and I watch him gasp for air quietly as if he hasn’t got any fight left in him. Enough. I don’t care what this ploy is. I can’t watch it anymore. I struggle madly against the hands pinning me to the chair, but I still can’t get away. “Alex, tell him, please.” Nothing comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t even seem to be trying anymore. His body is just still as the bastard winds the material around his fist for another pull. His eyes have that glazed appearance, as if he might not even be here anymore. Doesn’t he care that he’s about to die? “PLEASE, ALEX!”

  Fear, panic, rage, they all seem to merge together at the vision in front of me. My man is being strangled, choked, and I have to do something, anything. My arms fight more against the dick holding me down, my legs begin kicking out, sending my heels flying, and my head slams backwards repeatedly in the hope of hitting him, but I can’t get him. Nothing is working, and even if I do manage to get to my bag, what good is a knife against guns? Nothing. I can’t move. I can’t help him. Is this it? Am I going to watch my world being destroyed by the very man that ruined him as a child? No, it’s not fucking happening. I heave so hard and fast on my legs that my body slams up into the man behind me and sends us flying backwards. The struggle breaks his hold on me, and within seconds, I’m hurtling towards the bastard trying to kill my man. I can see his eyes widen as I scream at him and launch both sets of nails at his face. I’m scratching and grabbing at his ears, eyes, anything to get him the fuck off Alex. In the midst of my attack, I hear movement of some sort, metal clinking and the rushing of feet maybe, but I don’t give a damn who’s coming anymore, or what they’re holding. I’m in kill mode. Rage is overtaking any sense of logic, and this bastard is going to die for his behaviour. I feel my teeth sink into something and relish the taste. I don’t even know what it is, but it’s flesh, and the cry of pain that sounds around the room only heightens my need to do it again. So I bite in harder and cling onto the bastard as he tries to prise me off. My legs begin pushing harder beneath me, forcing him into the wall so he can’t escape my grip and grabbing at his hair. I’m ripping at it ferociously to try and cause as much damage as possible. Then we’re spinning as I climb up onto his frame and hang on tightly. There are other hands pulling at me, yanking at me to try and get me off the fucker. No, this is my chance to show the bastard how much I hate him. I’m like a wild dog, biting and yelling and hitting out to make him feel the hurt he’s caused.

  A gun fires and I still don’t care. What are they going to do? Shoot me while I’m wrapped around the dick? I can’t think of anything but destruction, like some sort of motherly instinct has taken me over and is forcing protection mode to kill the threat, or annihilate the possibility of harm.

  “Get this fucking whore off me,” he yells from beneath me as my arm finds his throat and tightens around it. I can do this – just keep fucking squeezing until the bastard drops to the floor. I’ll fucking show him a real monster. It was here in me, lying dormant until he forced it out. He took the most precious thing in my life and tried to kill it in front of me. Squeeze. This is what happens when you love someone. You protect them, and you’ll give anything to keep them safe. Tighter. You offer your life to make sure they’re happy, contented and secure. Safe, just keep him safe.

  Another shot, rapidly followed by another, brings my head back to the moment a little, and I catch a glimpse of Alex moving with the metal chair in his hand as I spin by. He’s swinging it at Aiden’s head as I try to hang on and keep squeezing this throat. His body moves fluidly, those muscles working rhythmically as they’re supposed to once more. His handcuffs are now dangling from one wrist as he bellows in anger and metal connects with flesh. Aiden crashes to the side of the room at the same time as my back connects with something hard over and over. I want to scream out in agony, but there is no noise, only silence and the sound of Alex thundering around, killing anything that gets in his way, demolishing anything that dares touch him. Vicious, violent strikes and brutal punches as another man comes at him while he tries to get to me. I can see his eyes deadening with every move, as he fights his way to me. I can feel his need to save me overwhelming him as I watch him twist a man’s neck so ferociously that he drops to the floor instantly beneath his feet. There’s another shot and I gape in horror as blood bursts from the white shirt at his shoulder. He doesn’t even flinch, not even a slight recognition
of the injury as he storms toward his attacker and launches blow after blow at his head. His legs are just continually spinning and whirling as he keeps raining hell down on the guy so that he can come for me. I watch another man coming up behind him and scream out a warning.

  “ALEX, MOVE!” Pain suddenly explodes in the back of my head as it connects with something. It’s enough to dislodge my arm a bit, and try as I might to cling on, the need to protect my head consumes me, so I let go and feel myself sliding down towards the floor. My body is hoisted and lifted until I’m in front of the bastard and his hand is around my neck. I kick out for all I’m worth but his grip is too strong, too hard, and I haven’t got anything to fight with as my feet scuff the floor in protest. I’m exhausted from trying to hang onto him, and I can feel my body giving up as his fingers tighten around me.

  “Whore,” he growls as he yanks me around until I’m still in his grasp. I just keep watching Alex demolishing his threats. One of them now lies on the floor, spitting up blood as the other attempts to defend against his oncoming death. I couldn’t wish for death more if I tried. It’s like some bloodlust frenzy has taken over and all I need is for everyone in this room to be dead except for Alex and me. Just Alex and me, together and safe.

  “STOP!” his bastard father roars across the room. Nothing. Alex just keeps going, lost in his own world as he slams another fist in and smiles at the crimson splatter that leaves the guy’s face. “Tell him to stop or I’ll break your neck,” he says to me. He can fuck off if he thinks I’m helping. I’m too consumed by the vision of absolute beauty as Alex primes himself yet again and roars in fury at the room. He’s covered in blood, fists closed, with every muscle straining for release as he continues on his darkened path. That’s his path. I can see it now. I can see him in his element and revel in it. I may be his peace from it, but this is as much a part of him as I will ever be, and if I die watching this, if it gives him more chance to survive this fight, then so be it. I couldn’t be any fucking happier with the image I’m left with.