Black Hearts: A Dark Captive Romance (Heartbreaker Book 3)

by Stella Hart

  I exhaled, having only just realized I was holding my breath. “Was she….?”

  “No. Not dead.” Alex shook his head. “She’d been found on the edge of a road somewhere. They thought she was dead at first, and I think for a while, she was. But somehow, they got her breathing again. Took her to hospital, where they eventually identified her and called our family.”

  “So what happened?”

  He held up a hand, silently asking for me to give him more time. “She was almost unrecognizable at first. She’d suffered from massive internal bleeding, fractured or broken bones, lacerated kidneys, bruised lungs, and head injuries. Some of her other internal organs had actually almost been crushed, but they hung on by a thread. Everything was consistent with being run over by a car, which as it turned out, was exactly what happened.”

  He paused to take a breath, and I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. When the doctors had her stabilized against all odds and at least some of the massive bruising had started to fade, they started to notice that she didn’t just have new scars and wounds from whatever accident she’d been involved in. That’s what those other photos in the box were. I’m sure you saw them. They were taken in the hospital weeks after she was found, once she was finally able to stand up. The doctors took them as proof that she’d been terribly abused long before she was ever hit by the car.”

  “Yes, I saw the photos,” I murmured.

  “She had old scarring on her back, buttocks and legs consistent with being severely beaten and burned with cigarettes multiple times. There was also a circle carved into her.”

  I shook my head. “But there was no circle in the photos. That’s why I thought….” I trailed off. I didn’t want to say it out loud; that I thought she’d been a victim of Alex and not the Circle.

  “I know. I’ll get to that,” he muttered. “She didn’t speak at first. She just sat there in the hospital bed, staring into space for weeks. I sat with her every day, waiting. I had to know who hurt her. My baby sister….” He swallowed hard, hesitating. “Then, finally, she told me what happened. She said she tried to sneak out one night to a party with her older friends, but before she could get there, she was taken off the street by some men. They drugged her and took her somewhere. She wasn’t sure where; all she remembered about the first few weeks was that she was in a dark, gray room. Probably this one.” He looked around, his eyes filled with cold fury. “They hurt her. Drugged her. Raped her. Men with little tattoos on their arms, all the same.”

  I gulped down the bitter taste of bile. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “At some point she said she went to sleep for what felt like two or three straight days, and when she woke up again, she was in a different room. A nicer room. She was able to see where she was from the windows. In a three-story mansion a long way out of the city.”

  “The same mansion I was taken to when I was a kid?”

  He nodded. “When she told me all the details about the inside of the place—she was never allowed outside—she described that hallway you kept dreaming about in the exact same way you did. It was the same place. They kept her there for two years. Men would come and do whatever they wanted to her, whenever they wanted. Usually at the parties they had, but on other occasions too, if they felt like it. She said there was one in particular who raped her and hurt her every week with a fucking smile on his face every time.”

  I hadn’t yet worked out the exact timeline in my head, but I felt sick at the possibility that I might’ve actually been there with my father for one of his ‘parties’ at the same time as Lina.

  “She said she never heard their names, but she saw their faces and heard them speak to each other at the parties, and she discovered from that—and also from talking to the other older kids there—that they were all rich, influential people. Judges, lawyers, high-ranking police employees, politicians, diplomats, and so on,” he continued. “She also said most of the other kids and teens there broke quickly. They seemed dead behind the eyes, going through the motions and just letting it all happen to them. But not her. She fought them at every turn, and she was punished for it, too. She was beaten and burned, worse than the others. She was also given to the guards and raped by them every day when the Circle members weren’t around. But she kept fighting. She gave them such trouble that when they finally decided to mark her as theirs—with the circle—they decided to carve it somewhere else, just to try and humiliate her and finally break her down.”

  “Where was it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Just above… I’m sure you can guess,” he said, his eyes traveling down my body to the front of my half-torn jeans.

  “Oh.” My stomach roiled. That was why the scar wasn’t shown in the photos taken at the hospital. To protect her modesty, presumably, she wasn’t completely naked in them—she’d been given a bra and shorts to wear. The shorts covered up the circle scar. But it was there all along.

  “There were photos taken of that scar, to show the police, but I didn’t want to look at them. It was too much. The others I kept just to….” He looked down, his voice fading.

  “To remind you what was done to her?”

  He nodded. “Something like that. It kept me focused all those years, seeing what they did to her. I hated looking at the pictures, but sometimes when it felt like I didn’t have anything left, no other way to find the rest of them… I’d look at those photos and feel myself ignite all over again.”

  I nodded, understanding. “I get it.”

  A heavy silence filled the room as I let it all wash over me for a moment.

  “Guess I should finish the story.” Alex ran a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh. “After a while, they realized she simply wouldn’t break. One of them had also somehow gotten her pregnant even though they forced her to take birth control pills, and that was just another inconvenience to them. She said some of them drove her out to some property—probably this very same one—and told her they were done with her. She wasn’t worth the effort, and she was getting too old anyway, according to them. Ripe old age of fifteen. They threw her on the ground, beat her, then had one of their guards hit her and run her over with a car. They thought she was dead, so they took her body and dumped it on the edge of a road somewhere. It was pure luck that some random tourists happened to see her there a few hours later and revive her. Otherwise she would’ve been dead.”

  I shook my head slowly, the sheer inhumanity and evilness of the story seeping into me like ice water in my veins. “Oh my god,” I muttered. “What happened after she told everyone what was done to her?”

  His hands clenched into fists, and despite all the horrors I’d just heard, I knew the worst of the story was yet to come. “No one believed her. No one except me,” he said through gritted teeth.

  My eyes widened. “What? But… all the scars. How could they not believe her?”

  “They did at first. The doctors called the authorities immediately. The Police Chief himself came in to the hospital to talk to them and my parents when he got wind of what’d happened, and he promised he would investigate. A few days later he came back and told us she was lying. He said he had proof that she’d simply run away with an older guy, her ‘boyfriend’. The boyfriend turned out to be horribly abusive, beating her, torturing her, and forcing her to have sex with him. She finally ran away from him after falling pregnant, only to find herself hit by a car when she stumbled onto the road. She was too ashamed to tell the truth, and so she made up the horrible, fantastical story about the elite sex ring and the mansion. He said she was clearly unstable, and my parents and the doctors had no reason to disbelieve him, especially when he handed them proof.”

  “Proof?”

  “He said they had a man in custody. Some big, tattooed twenty-six year old. He’d apparently admitted to having a relationship with her and letting her live with him for two years, even though she was underage, and he admitted that he’d abused her.
He got a few years in prison for it, but he eventually got out on good behavior, then disappeared into the wind. I know why. He was one of the mansion guards. They obviously paid him off to ‘admit’ to a bunch of shit that never happened, just to discredit my sister.”

  “So everyone would think she made the whole thing up,” I said softly. My stomach knotted from the injustice of it all.

  Alex’s grimaced. “Yes. Who are they gonna listen to? The revered Police Chief, or a teenage girl with a history of getting into trouble?”

  “God, that’s horrible.”

  “No shit. And the same day we were told all this crap, the Chief went and fucking visited her in her room while I was there. He said he understood what she’d been through, and he understood why she felt the need to lie. He said he hoped that one day, she’d be able to admit the ‘truth’.” He looked down at the concrete for a few seconds before going on. “I’ll never forget how scared she was after he left. She was bone white, shaking with terror. Then she leaned over and said: ‘he was one of them’.”

  “My father.”

  “Yes. I was the only one who believed her. The only one who didn’t question what happened to her. I helped her as much as I could, and I promised her that one day, I’d find justice for her. But there was only so much I could do. I couldn’t take back what was done to her. I couldn’t make her happy, ever again.”

  “So what happened?”

  His eyes went flat. “She killed herself just a few months after she was released from the hospital,” he said softly. “It tore me apart. Broke my heart.”

  “The note….” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I was too choked up.

  “She left me a note before she did it, yes,” he said. “She said she was sorry, and she loved me, but she just couldn’t be here anymore. Not in this world; the sort of world that would sweep someone like her under the rug after all the ways she was brutalized. I was the one who found her in the bath with her wrists slit. I tried to save her, but I couldn’t. And after that, I just... I knew I needed to keep my promise to her. So I decided I wouldn’t stop until I made every last one of them pay for what they did to her and all those other kids. I’ve been trying to finish them ever since.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, tears streaming down my face again. I ached for him, felt his terrible pain and sadness. “And I’m sorry I never asked.”

  “It’s fine. I understand why you didn’t. You were scared,” he said.

  I shook my head sorrowfully. “Still… I should have said something.”

  “No,” he said in a firm voice, grabbing my hand. “I should have told you about Lina sooner. I should have told you how and why I knew so much about the Circle when no one else even knew they existed. I should have told you why I started going after them in the first place. I held back, and I fucking regret it.”

  I reached out to rub his arm. “I get why you didn’t tell me, though. And like you said, you were going to eventually. If I hadn’t snooped around your things and jumped to conclusions, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But do you understand me now?” He tilted my chin up to meet his. “Do you understand how I know they’re so dangerous? How they can destroy lives and get themselves out of trouble every time?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I can’t… I can’t ever forgive myself,” I murmured, lowering my eyes. “I almost got us both killed.”

  “Well, you have to forgive yourself. Your reaction made sense, and no matter what we did, this prick was going to find us and show up last night anyway.” He nodded at Dwyer.

  “I guess so.” It was true, but still, I felt an overwhelming sense of culpability.

  “I promise from now on—no more holding back. I expect the same from you.”

  “You’ll get it. I promise,” I replied.

  He smiled, then knelt down and picked up the bracelet that had slipped out along with the photo. “You took this with you when you left,” he murmured softly, clasping it around my left wrist, then raising his hand to smooth my hair again. “Know what that tells me?”

  “What?” I said breathlessly.

  “It tells me that part of you still loved me and trusted me even when the rest of you couldn’t believe a word I said.”

  I nodded. “I wanted to remember you,” I whispered. “Just in case I was wrong… and I’m so glad I was.”

  He pulled me into another warm embrace. I breathed in his scent, knowing for sure how wholly and utterly I belonged to him. Mind, body, soul. I was his.

  Finally, I pulled away and looked up at him again. “How did you find me here?”

  “Your therapist. You were right when you thought no one was hacking into her files. She was a mole for them, leaking information about you to the rest.”

  “Oh, god. Really?” My heart skipped a beat. It seemed like almost everyone in the world was in on the Circle at this point. First my father, then Dwyer, now Dr. Fitzgibbons as well. Who would be next? It was crazy.

  “Yes. But she was useful in the end, I suppose. She got me here.”

  “Is she....?” I tentatively trailed off, leaving the obvious question unstated.

  He nodded. “Yes. She’s dead. It was quick.”

  “And him?” I looked back at Dwyer, who was still slumped by the table.

  Alex’s eyes blazed. “Him? I’m going to fucking kill him too. And that won’t be so quick.”

  Myriad thoughts and feelings floated through my mind at the awareness of Dwyer’s impending death, until one idea in particular drowned out the rest with its grim, creeping insistence.

  Alex was right all along.

  We all had the dark materials inside us; the tinder that only needed one little match struck against it in order to ignite our need to kill. My own need had been well and truly stoked in the last twenty-four hours, and now, I was practically breathing fire.

  “No.” I shook my head and stared up at Alex. “I want to do it.”

  7

  Alex

  In that moment, when Celeste said she wanted to kill Dwyer, her eyes lit with blazing intent, I knew she was finally mine.

  Weeks ago, when she chose to stay with me and let me kill Dan Vallone, I thought I had her. I thought she’d finally given herself to me completely and wholly. But I was wrong back then. That was just a pale imitation of what could’ve been; what should’ve been.

  This was the real deal.

  She truly loved me now. She trusted me. She fully intended on staying with me.

  The cherry on top was that she was just as perfectly fucked up as me.

  “You sure?” I asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her skin was pale with dark circles under her eyes from the stress of her captivity in this godforsaken little room. Even so, she’d never looked more beautiful than right now.

  She nodded firmly, her face etched with cold fury. “I’m sure. Please let me do it.”

  Warmth radiated throughout my body as she spoke. I imagined our journey ahead, the two of us getting rid of every last Circle member together. I imagined the blood we would shed, the worthless lives we’d stamp out, and the young lives we would save in doing so. The whole time, Celeste would be beside me, aiding me in my revenge. Just like I always hoped for.

  Christ, I loved her.

  I pulled out a knife before realizing that was probably too much for her first time. I nodded to the gun I’d left on the floor earlier. “Know how to use one of those?”

  She shook her head, wide-eyed.

  “Pick it up carefully.”

  She crouched to get the gun, then stood straight and held it up. I moved behind her, slightly to the left, my lips lingering near the shell of her ear. “We don’t want him dead right away. We just want to hurt him for a while. Draw it out. He deserves that much.”

  “He might be able to tell us things as well,” she said, looking back at me.

  I looked down at the disgusting pig of a man who’d almo
st defiled my girl. He was beginning to stir by the table. I sincerely doubted he’d tell us anything; he was a dyed in the wool Circle member. But Celeste was still right. If we applied the right pressure, he might be useful to us in some way.

  “Yes. But he won’t even think of telling us anything until we’ve hurt him. So let’s do some target practice. Aim at one of his legs.”

  “Wish I could aim at his crotch,” she muttered, her eyes narrowing with concentration.

  I chuckled. “Patience, sweet thing.” My fingers ghosted over the parts of the gun she wasn’t touching. “Turn the safety off here.” I clicked on a tiny gray catch on top of the gun. “Now rest your finger on the trigger. Don’t squeeze it just yet. You’re gonna be surprised at how powerful it is. The force might knock you back at first, because you aren’t used to it.”

  Celeste gritted her teeth. “I’ll manage.”

  I smiled. “Aim this way.” I slowly moved her hand downwards, so that the gun was facing Dwyer’s left kneecap. “Now squeeze the trigger when you’re ready.”

  She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them and squeezed the trigger. I tensed myself, waiting for the loud boom of the gunshot, but nothing happened other than a little click.

  Celeste lowered the gun and turned to me, her brows furrowed. “What happened?”

  “Gun must’ve jammed.” I took it from her and inspected it. “I’ll fix it.”

  There was some gunk built up near the firing pin, but I had it ready to go within a few minutes. I held it out for her to take again.

  Dwyer was awake now, glaring at us from where he was tied. “You wouldn’t shoot me, Celeste. You don’t have the guts,” he muttered in a shallow attempt to throw her off. I ignored him, knowing she had the strength and bravery to stand up for herself now.

  “Wanna bet?” she said, holding the gun with the barrel aimed right at his face. She lowered it back to his kneecap. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be the only one in this room without any guts, you twisted old fuck. Literally.”