His To Keep: Beasts In The Dark (Book 2)

by Richards, S. S.

  “Get out, Maksim, and stop complaining about your wig.”

  I give him a side look and grab the small laptop bag. I hang it over my shoulder and slide my hands in my pockets. Frowning at the house in front of me, I feel a trickle of sweat run down my back, and a random pulse starts kicking somewhere in the back of my neck.

  What if she’s in there?

  The thought excites me and petrifies me at the same time. What if they hurt her so bad that I won’t be able to pick up the pieces and make her whole again? I shake the dreadful thought away and lift my chin up. Straightening my posture, I walk confidently toward the entrance door. The weather is sunny and warm, but there’s a light breeze that makes it tolerable.

  The air around me thickens as I ring the doorbell. My heart drums in my chest, and my knees wobble slightly. I fist my hands in my pocket hoping to ease the rocking sensation that’s filling them.

  Every second that ticks by feels like a whole minute as I stand here, waiting impatiently for the stupid door to open.

  Suddenly, the door clicks open, and I hold my breath. A very old, short woman with gray hair peeks through it.

  “Can I help you?” she blurts out. Her facial expression shows confusion as she frowns and looks deeply into my eyes.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am. My names is Edward Massey, and I’m a real estate agent. I was sent here by Mr. Romano to check around the house.” The confidence in my voice covers the anxiety swirling around me. I came here prepared. My team was finally able to get their shit together and come up with helpful information.

  She frowns but opens the door wider.

  “He didn’t tell me anybody was coming, son. Hold on a second I’m gonna give him a quick call.”

  Give him a quick call? My eyes grow two sizes bigger as I swallow the dust in my throat and save the situation before it’s too late.

  “Ma’am!” I call out, and she stops in her tracks and turns around facing me.

  I clear my throat and smile warmly at her. “Sorry, he told me you were gonna say so and since he’s in a meeting right now and cannot answer the phone, he told me to give you this,” I search my left pocket for the piece of paper that my team gave me earlier today. Apparently, Leonardo has a bad habit of writing messages on paper because he believes that his writing is unique and nobody will ever be able to copy it. Sucks for him because in the drive that Daniel gave me, I found a photocopy of a useless note that was written by Leonardo himself. I had a professional copy his exact same writing on a piece of paper so I can give it to whoever was supposed to open the door.

  “Let the man in to do his job. I give you my permission.” The woman reads aloud. The frown never leaving her forehead.

  Hesitantly, she takes another quick look at me through her eyelashes and allows me to get inside. I manage to cover my excitement as I step into the house where Elena grew up.

  I look around me and gaze at the decorations around the house. The lights are dim and old, mesmerizing paintings fill the large spaces all over the house.

  There are plain, white blankets covering every single piece of furniture in the house. It feels ghostly and empty.

  “Coffee? Tea?” the old woman’s voice snaps me out of my daze.

  “No, thank you. So nobody lives here?” I ask, following the old lady wherever she’s heading. We enter a vast kitchen with a clean and smooth dark brown wooden floor. My heels hit the polished floor as I watch the lady drop a teabag in a white mug and pours boiling water into it.

  “Nobody lives here; it’s been years, son. I’m here to watch over the house and that’s it.”

  I swallow thickly and seat myself at one of the chairs surrounding a small table in the corner of the room. She glances at me with her eyebrows raised in her forehead but quickly drops her gaze to the mug as she begins to stir the honey she had just poured into it.

  “Marco Romano owned the house previously, right?”

  The air thickens around us, and her body stiffens at the mention of Elena’s father’s name. Without saying a word, she walks toward me and places the mug in front of me. I thought I said I didn’t want to drink anything.

  “You look pale.” She says, looking at me keenly. “Drink, son. The tea will help you.”

  Walking back to the sink, she dumps the rest of the boiling water into it.

  “Marco Romano owned it before his brother.” She finally answers my question.

  Taking a quick sip of my tea, I rise to my feet. “Alright, then. I’ll just walk around the house to take a look.”

  Taking the stairs two at a time, my heart races in my chest, and my armpits turn sticky and uncomfortable with the amount of sweat filling them. So many rooms upstairs, it’s so hard to know which one is hers.

  I cross the hallway and decide to start from the left. I open the last door at the end of the hallway. It’s a guest room I’m guessing from the look of it. Moving on to the next one, then the one after. I keep opening and closing doors until I reach her room. My heart skips a beat, and my breathing comes in frantic pants to the point that I have to close my eyes for a moment to try to calm my senses and steady out my breathing.

  I walk into the room slowly. It still smells of her. Vanilla and ocean waves. Her drawings when she was a kid still hang on walls. Dragging my hand over the soft material of the duvet on her bed, my cock stirs in my pants, remembering the softness of her skin, the gloominess in her eyes, and the innocence and vulnerability that I long for. The one that made me fall for her.

  I walk over to her closet. Opening it wide, I find only one shirt hanging. It’s pink and has Believe written on the front. It’s the last piece of clothing that remains in her closet.

  Snatching the shirt off the hanger, I bring it to my nose and smell it. My eyes close slowly, and just like a man in a daze, I smell her like it’s her I’m carrying in the palm of my hands rather than a piece of cotton shirt.

  “I know who you are, Mr. Pavlov.”

  A voice interrupts the moment. My eyes fly open as my head turns toward the door. The old woman stands still at the door. Her eyes are watery, and sadness crosses her face.

  Anger suddenly crawls up my skin. Blinded by fury, I reach my waistband and pull the gun that’s burning a hole into my pocket – begging to be used. The image of Elena, alone, miserable and scared flashes in my mind.

  I point the gun toward the old woman. Ready to hurt. Ready to shoot. Ready to fucking kill. Then her words make me freeze. My arm turns limp, and hot tears burn my eyes.

  “I miss her too, son. So much.”

  Maksim

  Tears run down her cheeks relentlessly. The gun is still pointed at her, and she doesn’t even try to convince me not to shoot her. She doesn’t fight or threatens me to contact Leonardo. My mask has fallen. I’m exposed and I can’t go back. And as sad and cruel it may sound, I’m not going back and giving up right now. I have no fucking problem blowing her brains out. Nothing can stand between me and saving Elena. Not even an old woman like her.

  Get a fucking grip!

  I tell myself as I try to force my sense of power and ruthlessness back. My back stiffens, and sweat drips from my forehead.

  “Who are you?” I snarl.

  She wipes the tears off her wrinkly cheeks with her sleeves and lifts her chin up, looking at me with sorrowful eyes.

  I study her earnestly. I always considered my talent of studying people and looking through their souls a gift. Until Elena. Since I couldn’t crack her code for the longest time.

  “I used to work for them. I loved her like one of my own. I wanted to take her with me when her parents died. But he took her and threatened me and my whole family if I was to refuse to work for him and watch this place.”

  She walks over to the bed slowly and seats herself on top of it.

  “I was the cook. And I’m sorry to break it to you, son, but I don’t think you’ll find anything helpful in this house.” She continues, shaking her head in disappointment.

 
“Show me to the basement,” I order.

  With her head bowed down, she nods and walks out of the room. I slide Elena’s shirt in my pocket and follow the woman’s steps. The gun is still pointed at her. This time it’s pointing straight to the back of her head. One wrong move and she’s dead.

  When we get to the basement. My eyes roam around the place. It smells of old books and furniture. The old woman moves to the side, allowing me to study the room. There’s too much junk in here, but I don’t see any door that could be leading to a tunnel.

  “Is there another basement?” I ask, walking past old furniture and knocking loudly on the stone granite walls.

  “No, son. This is the only one. Do you mind if I ask why?”

  Turning back, I stare at her with narrowed eyes. “Why should I trust you? Why should I believe that you’re on Elena’s side rather than Leonardo’s?”

  She smiles softly at me and nods her head slightly.

  “When I learned that there was a man who Elena fell in love with, I was the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. That girl deserves the best, and I’m willing to do anything to help her out.”

  Taking a step forward, she glances at me with pitiful eyes like she knows my pain. She knows how it feels to have the love of your life taken away from you.

  “I knew you weren’t a real estate agent the moment I opened the door. I know you want her back, and I know that if she fell for you, that means she sees something in you that others can’t see. But I do.”

  She pauses for a moment, then continues.

  “I’m an old woman, Mr. Pavlov. I can read people. I know an honorable man when I see one. And most importantly, I know when a man is in love when I see one.”

  Dropping my gun and placing it back in my waistband, I run my hands through my hair and sigh deeply. I just want to find her. I want everything to go back to normal.

  Sliding down the wall behind me, I fall to the ground as tears burn at the back of my throat. This isn’t the first time the longing to have her in my arms eats me up inside and destroys me to my core. Feeling utterly helpless, I shut my eyes and focus on my shallow breathing. I shouldn’t feel helpless. Elena needs me strong. She needs the beast in me to wake the fuck up and go after what it cares about the most.

  Wiping the tears away from my face, I snap my head up and look at the woman whose tears are still streaming down her cheeks. Sobbing like a child, I know that she meant every word she said. Although I have to be careful of every person I come across during this difficult time, I also need people who will be able to help me in any way possible.

  “There was a tunnel Elena spoke about before she was taken away. Do you know anything about it?” I ask firmly.

  Her eyebrows furrow.

  “I’ve never heard of a tunnel, son. I worked for the family for as long as I can remember, and I can’t think of any tunnel.”

  Pulling myself off the ground, I fish my pocket and give her one of my business cards.

  “Call me if you have any information. Do you care about Elena or not? Do you wanna help her out?”

  Her eyes widen, and her lips part slightly. Nodding her approval frantically, she says, “Of course I do.”

  “Great. Keep this between us then. And I will be in contact.”

  Elena

  Matteo pushes me forward, and my uncle and the other man both laugh mischievously.

  “Get a hold of yourself and walk faster, bitch.” Matteo hisses through clenched teeth.

  I don’t know how long we’ve been walking down the same, dark hallway we walked through the other day when they led me to the cell where Flavio fucked the woman savagely right before my eyes. My stomach clenches at the memory of feeling bound and helpless when I couldn’t do anything to help her.

  As we walk past several cells, I hear moans and sobs. But I’m not sure if they are real or if they’re just a product of my damaged and hallucinating brain.

  I still hear Maksim’s voice almost every day. And sometimes, if I’m lucky, he shows up in my cell and promises things I wished he could have promised me back when I was still under his roof. Things like protection and starting brand new. But I always listen to him and smile alone in the darkness. His beautiful face consumes the corners of my mind, mainly when the thought of giving up haunts me, sending me into constant fights with my damaged and dejected brain.

  Every time I think of giving up, he shows up like a guardian angel and dares me to give up. He dares me to be weak and reminds me that that’s not who I am. He urges me to bring my darkness back to life, and allow it to take over as it will always guide me to the right path when it comes to dealing with people like my uncle.

  And he’s right. He’s always been right about everything.

  We stop in front of one of the cells. This time, green piercing eyes train on me from afar. The woman is so beautiful with shiny blonde hair. As soon our eyes meet, she recoils. I feel her anxiety and fear swirl all over me and turning the air thick and humid.

  She’s naked. Bringing her knees to her chest, she hugs herself tightly and drifts her gaze from me to the vicious men standing behind me.

  “Well, well. Today, it’s your job to make this new doll submit.” My uncle whispers in my ear.

  I don’t flinch. Instead, I remain standing still, my heart pounding in my ears, sweat dripping off my forehead relentlessly, my brain is a series of firework explosions. I want to scream and run the fuck away from all of them. But my feet are like water.

  “Unlock the cell, Matteo.” My uncle orders.

  Matteo unlocks the cell and steps aside. His hands ball into fists the moment a tear rolls down my cheek. A stupid grin plays at his lips. What do they want me to do?

  “Hey, baby.”

  My head snaps back as I swirl around. His voice. Damn my brain for playing these games on me. I shake the thought away and struggle to focus on what’s actually happening. The woman cries out loudly, pushing herself further into the wall behind her like it’s going to get her anywhere.

  She has bruises all over her kneecaps, as well as some dried out blood around her forearms. Considering the fire in her eyes, it looks like she still carries a little bit of hope in her heart compared to the other woman Flavio fucked the other day.

  Somebody pushes me from behind. I stumble, but Matteo catches me before I fall. Stunned and completely unaware of my body movements, my feet bring me closer to the woman and into the cell.

  She looks up at me through her eyelashes with a saddened look that could turn anybody's knees into water. I want to help her. I want to get her out of this misery. Guilt dawns on me, making me feel helpless to my core.

  Matteo yanks the girl’s arm up and orders her to stand up with her hands clenched behind her back. She submits weakly, bowing her head down and staring at her toes.

  He then shoves handcuffs in the palm of my hand.

  “Tell her to turn around and put them on her.” He commands.

  My lips part slightly, getting ready to release the words. My gaze slowly drifts over to the girl standing before my eyes. She’s a bit taller than me, her breasts are full and her body is that of a model. She trembles, her breathing is frantic and I can practically hear the thumping of her heart loud and clear. Or is it mine? I’m not too sure.

  Matteo fists my hair and jerks my head backward savagely. A suffocated gasp escapes my lips at the pulsating pain in my skull.

  “Talk or I’ll beat the shit out of her until she passes out.”

  I want to talk, I really do, but my jaw is so tense that letting words out could technically break it. But his words bring my breathing to a halt. They’re putting this on me. They want me to hurt her. They want to break me fully so that I can never recover after this.

  Forcing my jaw to unclench, I pray silently for my throat to release the words that are stuck somewhere in it, reminding myself that I need to this for the poor, innocent victim standing before me.

  “T – turn ar – ound.” I manage past my st
iff jaw and my swollen tongue.

  She turns around slowly and faces the wall. Her back is bruised and full of fresh wounds. Some have blood dried all around them, and some look like they’re quickly healing.

  I wince at the sight of her swollen flesh and slowly handcuff her. When my hand touches hers, I shiver at the temperature of her skin. It’s cold. So cold, it sends a shiver running right through my spine.

  “Please... help me.” The girl cries out.

  Matteo pulls the girl down until she lands on her knees. Her back is still facing me. He orders her to turn around and face me.

  When she does, he punches her jaw so hard, sending her falling to the ground. My eyes widen, and my superhero instincts kick in. Despite having almost no strength in my body, I manage to push Matteo but he doesn’t budge. He remains standing like a statue, eyes like those of a raven.

  “Let’s get to action.” My uncle says, lighting up a cigar and taking a seat.

  Matteo pulls the lady back to her knees and hands me a cane. I stare at the cane for a while before feeling the itchiness filling my scalp as a result of withdrawal symptoms.

  My sweaty hand begins to shake, making the cane dance in it. The girl’s lower lip trembles in fear. Her eyes are bloodshot and her skin pales as the seconds go by.

  Towering over her, I shake my head slowly and beg her silently to forgive me. There isn’t a single thing I can do to save her. I am just as helpless as she is. I’m drugged and sluggish. Tired and helpless. Every sinew in my body aches and is desperate for another dose so I don’t have to testify everything that’s about to happen.

  A firm hand lands on my shoulder, followed by my uncle’s deep-toned voice.

  “Lydia is new. We got her two days ago, and so far, she’s not cooperating. Your task is to punish her.” He taps gently on my shoulder. “Easy peasy, right sweetie?”

  I feel the fury crawl underneath my skin at his mocking tone of voice. I wish my jaw wasn’t stiff. At least, I would have given him a piece of my mind.