At His Mercy

by S. S. Richards

  I don’t think Mommy likes Uncle Leonardo. I always wondered why. Every time he is around she always fakes her smiles at him. I know when Mommy is serious and when she is lying or faking it. I catch him staring at her sometimes with evil eyes. And I don’t like it, but I don’t say anything about it. I never bring it up to her or Dad. But the eagerness to know never leaves my thoughts, consuming me every time Uncle is around.

  I take another sip and as soon as I do the juice box feels light in the palm of my hands. I shake it and realize that it is indeed empty. I place it on top of the table in the big kitchen and run back to the backyard to play in the park Daddy built just for me. I cannot wait for my birthday tomorrow.

  Elena

  I open my eyes slowly and it takes a moment for me to register where I am and what led to me into being here in the first place. I stifle a groan at the pain pounding in my head. I am tied to a chair and shivers rock my body. The men from earlier are standing in every corner of the room. Anxiety comes crawling back and my heart sinks as I realize I’ve been kidnapped. The room appears to be a big, serene garage, empty except for the tall, big men and myself. My breathing becomes more pronounced as I assess my surroundings. Anger rises in me, making my jaw clench.

  Who the fuck are they and what do they want from me?

  “Let me go!” I scream as my heart hammers in my chest like an African drum. My body is like ice, numb and still.

  The men don’t say anything. Seconds later a door opens wide on my left side. Two men walk in and my heart halts and every sensation in my body freezes and ceases to exist. They are both tall, with equally impressive postures. The room suddenly drops in temperature as one of the men approaches me. His piercing gray eyes send shivers down my spine. His navy suit is crisp and all business.

  Swallowing hard, I force the tears away. This is not the time for me to be weak. Whoever this man is, he cannot see me broken.

  I look straight into his eyes.

  “Who are you?” I rasp.

  He places both of his hands in his pockets and cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at me. He remains silent for a moment and just stares. Tingles of fear dart down my back, but I refuse to allow them to take over.

  I hold his gaze.

  “What’s your name?” he asks in a deep, accented voice that sends shivers across my skin. But I ignore it. I ignore whatever confusion my body is suffering from.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I hiss through gritted teeth.

  He smiles softly at me and waves at one of the men standing behind him without removing his gaze off me. The man approaches and stands right next to him. I watch him as he opens a folder.

  “Elena Romano, twenty years old,” the newcomer says.

  “Leonardo has a daughter?” He cuts the man off, his eyes still pinned on me, never leaving my sight. Of course all of this has to do with my uncle.

  “No, sir. It’s his niece. Her parents died when she was twelve years old. Car accident.” The man explains and sadness glitters my eyes at the mention of my parents.

  My stomach clenches and I close my eyes. “Please, just let me go.” I shake my head as fear consumes me. These could be my last moments. I try to find relief back in my safety net, where my mind goes back to my past and into thinking about my parents and the happy times I lived with them. But somehow my mind is unable to focus on anything at the moment. I open my eyes and find him still studying me like a lion watching his prey.

  “I’m Maksim Pavlov. Nice to meet you, Elena.”

  As he says the words, his gray eyes sparkle and a cocky grin plays at his lips. I don’t understand this man, or anything that’s happening to me. I try as hard as I can to hold onto hope, but it keeps getting suffocated by anger.

  “Let. Me. Go,” I hiss. Stepping away in defeat is not an option. I would fight until I die. Fighting is all I have left.

  He leans down and smiles softly at me.

  “You’re feisty. I like you. But I’m afraid letting you go is not in the cards.”

  The smug smirk that lifts one corner of his mouth makes my blood boil as furry rises in me, clean and strong. I lose all sense of logic as I allow the darkness and anger to act on my behalf. And without thinking twice, I spit on his face.

  What the actual fuck did I just do?

  His eyes darken as shock crosses his face. I am fucked.

  Instantly, the men in the room point their guns at me as he reaches for his handkerchief and cleans the spit off his face. I watch as his hands ball into a fist. He’s fucking pissed.

  My lips part, but no words come out. I don’t want to apologize for my actions. He deserved it. But I can’t deny the fear that’s rising up my throat. The fear of whatever’s about to happen to me next.

  He raises his arm in the air and a second later, the palm of his hand connects with my warm cheek. The movement sends me falling to the ground.

  He fucking slapped me!

  “Fuck.” He curses. Tears burst like a stream down my cheek as I pant. It hurts. It fucking hurts. Stinging pain pulses in my cheek, but my whole body is limp. He reaches down and pulls the chair back up and I flinch from his abuse. The flow of tears is relentless as I look down at my feet, ignoring his strong, devilish gaze.

  He captures my chin and pulls it up. I watch as he takes a deep breath in and lets it out smoothly.

  “Don’t ever do that again. I don’t like it.” He speaks in a gentle voice that makes me even more terrified than I already am. Because his voice doesn’t match the gloominess that shows on his face. I know that personality trait. I know how it feels to lock the darkness and anger deep inside of you and try to control it. I have been doing it for years. But what’s making my flesh tingle with terror is the fact something deep inside of me knows this man is very dangerous.

  He finally releases his grip on my chin and I suck in a breath. The way he stares at me is too much. His gaze is stripping me to my soul, and I mentally take a step back from him.

  “Do you want us to kill her, sir?” asks the man carrying the folder in his hands. I want to fight them all. But I know that I won’t succeed. Who am I fooling? His words bring peace to my soul. Even though the words don’t come out of my mouth anymore, in my head, I am begging for him to kill me. Shoot me so I can finally find peace. Maybe dying is the solution.

  “What do you think, Elena? What should we do with you?” Maksim asks and I swallow thickly before answering.

  “Please kill me. I’m begging you to kill me and end this once and for all.”

  The words come out of my mouth like a cry for help. My soul hasn’t calmed down ever since I opened my eyes and found myself in this place. A voice in my head keeps whispering that as long as I stay here, death is the only solution. Because whatever awaits me is a lot worse than what I endured in the past.

  He frowns at my words.

  “You’re ready to die?”

  I nod my approval without any hesitation.

  “All right,” he says simply and waves to one of the men standing behind me.

  “Untie her and remove the cuffs.”

  The man removes my cuffs first, then proceeds into untying me. A shiver runs down my spine as the reality of whatever is about to happen hits me. I bring my hands together and rub my bloody wrists. The metal cuffs dug into my skin, but I felt no pain. And I still feel nothing.

  “Stand up,” Maksim orders and I obey. My legs shake under my weight and my nerves get the better of me. Suddenly every sense comes back to me. The hit I took from one of his men earlier when they kidnapped me, the cuffs cutting into my flesh and drawing blood, the stinging pain in my cheek from the slap he just gave me, and most importantly, the agony that my miserable life is about to end and all my dreams of freedom are gone with the wind, forever.

  He takes two steps forward until he’s standing inches away from me. I take in his sandalwood scent. It fills my lungs as I keep my gaze pinned on his tie. The last thing I want is stare into the eyes of the man who’s about to
end my life with one simple click.

  He reaches for my hair and runs his long fingers through it. The movement makes me flinch, but a weird feeling builds up in me. Desire. Lust.

  What the fuck?

  “Get on your knees,” he commands.

  I take a deep breath and comply. I close my eyes tightly as the thoughts overwhelm me. I think of my mother and my father. I try to find happiness in the thought of joining them.

  “Any last words?”

  He places the tip of the gun to my forehead. The cold material against my skin makes me shudder in terror. My breathing comes in frantic pants as my life shrinks right before my eyes.

  Everything is about to end.

  The loud thumping of my heart becomes the only sound I hear in the deadly quiet room. Then I hear a soft click and I gasp for air. My eyes spring open, panting like I’ve just run a marathon.

  I’m still alive. He didn’t shoot me. I begin to cry helplessly. I don’t know if they are tears of sadness or happiness. But I know a part of me is thankful that I can still breathe.

  I fall back on my ass. I didn’t see this coming. I thought it was over. I look up at him, my vision is blurry with all the tears. He gazes at me in a way that makes my knees weak.

  “Did you really think I was gonna shoot you?” he asks, his eyes fierce and full of hunger. A very dangerous combination.

  “Look at you, you didn’t even wanna die.” He waves the gun in the air before throwing it to the man who walked in with him into the room. The other man catches it with one hand and smirks at me. I meet Maksim’s cold gaze again and suddenly, the strength and anger both come crawling back and I stop crying.

  “The gun was empty, Elena,” he explains.

  “So what now?”

  He gives me a half smile and holds his hand out to me, waiting for me to place mine in his. Did he lose his damn mind? The last thing I’d ever want to do is touch him.

  I force my senseless body to stand up and stare into his piercing gray eyes. I have nothing to lose anymore. I even asked him to end my life and he didn’t. This man doesn’t want me dead. And I have to fight. I have to prepare myself for whatever is coming next. I was given a chance to live and I shouldn’t take it for granted.

  “Put her in a room in the west wing,” he says to his men right before walking away and disappearing through the same door he came in from.

  I take a deep breath before two men grab my arms and lead me out the door.

  Another cage.

  Another prison I will do everything in my power to escape from.

  Elena

  “Happy birthday, little one.” My uncle pats me on the head and smiles widely at me.

  “Thank you, Uncle.” I take another bite off my cake piece. The cake has a picture of a unicorn on it. Mom and Dad made sure to get me one with a unicorn because I love them. They also invited so many of my school friends and their parents. I received lots of gifts and everyone looks so happy around me.

  I’m about to take another bite when I accidently spill my juice all over the table. Mommy doesn’t like it when I make messes, but I need to tell her so she can clean it. Mommy always says that honesty is important. I look around me, but I don’t see her. I get up and head over to the kitchen, but I don’t find her. I decide to go upstairs to check if she’s in her room.

  I run up the stairs and as soon as I get to the top I hear Mommy talking. She sounds furious. I frown as I get closer to the bathroom where her voice is coming from. I know I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t help it. I stick my ear to the door and my eyes widen as I listen to their conversation.

  “Leonardo, you have to understand that this needs to stop. I never wanted this to get to this point. This is all a mistake.”

  “What do you mean a mistake? You were supposed to be mine not his and you know that. So what, now you’re saying you don’t wanna fuck anymore? Is that it?”

  I take a quick step back and cover my ears as my breath comes in ragged, short gasps.

  How come? I can’t believe it!

  I dart down the stairs until I reach the living room. I don’t know what’s going on, but I heard the F word. It’s a bad word. And I think my mommy is in trouble. But I can’t say anything. Because Mommy will be mad at me if she knew I stepped boundaries and overheard their conversation.

  I take a seat on the sofa and close my eyes. Are Mommy and Uncle in love?

  I wake up panting with panic. Another nightmare. Another fucking memory bringing me back to the past. It doesn’t take me long before I’m reminded of where I am. I rise from the bed and head over to the washroom. I turn the light on and wash my face with frigid water, washing away the sweat that’s breaking along my skin. I take a quick glance at myself in the mirror and notice how terribly pale my skin has become. I don’t even remember the last time I ate.

  I head back in the room and stare at the food on the tray that’s sitting on the floor. I haven’t touched it ever since the maid brought it. But I’m not hungry. And I won’t touch that food. I won’t touch anything that’s coming from the asshole who almost shot me and ended my life.

  Yesterday, when they brought me to this room, I expected them to chain me to the bed or beat the shit out of me, or rape me like my uncle’s men would do. But they didn’t. The room is bigger than the one I had at my uncle’s, but it’s fucking empty. No books, no night tables, no desk, no nothing. A bed and an empty bathroom are all that’s in it.

  I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I remember his eyes, the way he stared at me with a sparkling, lustful gaze, practically looking through me. The way he carried himself and his absolute dominance that held me hostage as my lungs paused all their movements. I still don’t understand the chemistry and the connection I felt toward him despite not knowing anything about him at all. And in spite of all our differences. I would never in a million years hold someone hostage. Under my mercy and my rules. I am not him. But something in me connected with something in him.

  The darkness. It must be the darkness.

  The blood craving. The ultimate need to draw blood and hurt and kill.

  My eyes drift to the small window that’s all the way at the top of the wall above my bed. I thought of trying to escape by using it, but it’s so tiny it can barely fit my head. However, it’s enough to tell me that the sun is rising and the world is about to wake up. Every day is a new day of thinking and planning my escape. I know I cannot stay here. I refuse to give up.

  Anxiety comes crawling back, pinging in my limbs as I hear the click of the doorknob. Someone is about to walk in the room. I pull the blanket to me by the hem and cover myself. Every time I hear the clicking of the door my damaged brain brings me back to my uncle’s house, to the room where I was locked up and abused by him and his men.

  I hold my knees to my chest and stare at the door as it opens. The maid from yesterday steps in with a new tray. Her eyes meet mine for a moment then she drifts her gaze and places the new tray on the floor next to the old one.

  As soon as I see her, I get up instantly. She is by far the only person in this house who appears friendly. She picks up the old tray and turns around to leave.

  “Wait,” I call out and she halts in her tracks.

  She turns around slowly, facing me. Her shoulders are hunched and raw pity shimmers in her eyes.

  “What’s your name?” I ask her softly.

  She doesn’t respond. She stares at me then glances over her shoulder to check if someone’s at the door. Her lips part slightly. She is about to say something, but the words don’t come out. Fear and confusion battle on her face.

  “They told you not to talk to me, didn’t they?” I ask her as I take one step closer to her.

  “I just wanna know your name. I won’t harm you and won’t tell anyone that you spoke to me.” I force a smile on my lips. I don’t want to scare her and I truly mean the words. I just want someone to make conversation with me. Maybe I’ll be able to understand what’s going on and
where the hell I am.

  “My name is Yeva,” she says, her voice almost a whisper.

  I smile widely at her and nod slowly.

  “Nice to meet you, Yeva. My name’s Elena,” I say to her, but this time she doesn’t say anything back. I watch as she reaches for the doorknob.

  “Wait, Yeva, please.”

  I take another step forward and pray she doesn’t leave and listens to what I have to say instead. My heart squeezes in my chest as anxiety haunts me, reminding me there’s a possibility that nobody in this household will ever be able to help me. But I shake the dreadful thoughts away and hold onto the last spark of hope that still exists somewhere in the core of my very being.

  Yeva faces me.

  “What do you want?” she asks softly.

  “Listen, I have no idea where I am and what your boss wants from me. But I just don’t want to be locked up here. I am not going anywhere. I won’t run away. Believe me, I have nowhere to go. Is there something I can help you with in the kitchen? Cleaning maybe? I want to be useful.” I pray she doesn’t catch on my lies. Everything I’m doing is to get me the fuck away from here as soon as possible.

  She swallows thickly.

  “I don’t know why you’re here either. And I don’t think I can let you help us with housework. I’m sorry.” She shakes her head slightly.

  Guilt, sadness, betrayal, and anger all settle against my chest. I really am alone in this fucking mess and nobody will do anything to fucking help me out.

  I swallow hard before saying my next words.

  “Okay, I understand. Did anybody say I’m not to get out of this room? Not even to the kitchen?”

  What a stupid question to ask when I know exactly what the answer to it is. Of course I am not allowed to go anywhere. I am kidnapped, locked away in a house with people I have no idea who they are besides the fact they are Russian. I recognize their accent and language. My uncle used to do business with Russians in the past.