Shouldn’t Have Gone

by Mara Lynne

  The mirage of things Will could do spread like wildfire in his mind.

  He only sees Angel and the possibilities of Will harming her.

  Without thinking, he dashes toward Will and rams him to the ground. They both crash to the concrete ground, and clouds of dust almost blind Hunter as he loses sight of Will who was just under him a few seconds ago. Then, he hears a loud gunshot from nowhere, and a striking pain in his calf starts to shift his attention from his environment. When his surroundings clear up, he sees a bright red liquid pouring on the floor, staining the gray ground. His calf is bleeding, and he is left lying on the floor.

  The figure of Will immerses from the mist of filth.

  “You never learn, Stag,” he utters, smirking. “Still impetuous. Look where it has put you.” He bends over, throwing away the knife and pulling out a gun from his hip.

  Who shot him? Hunter thought.

  His eyes search for the suspect, but all men around him have their guns pointed at him.

  “It wasn’t me, you know,” adds Will. “Let one of my men have the credit for hurting you. It took me time to build what you tried to destroy many years ago, Stag. Now, I have it back! I want you to regret everything, Stone. I want you to realize what loyalty truly is, and its corollaries. It won’t be good, I assure you. It won’t be easy for you.” Will stretches his legs and have one of it step on Hunter’s injured leg.

  Hunter’s scream echoes through the thick walls as pain radiates from his calf to its nearby muscles causing him to clench his teeth together.

  “Do you feel it, Stag?” Will remarks who seems to be so much pleased to witness Hunter’s agony.

  The unbearable pain consumes his strength. Blood continues to surge out of his body like a broken pressurized water pump.

  “Imagine me doing this to your beloved brother or your sweet little Angel…”

  Hunter shrieks. Will pound his leg one more time and gives it a strong push until he hears the bones crack.

  “Lovely.” Will tilts Hunter’s face with the point of the gun. “This is not enough, you know that. You owe me more than this, Stag. I could readily take away your life so that we’ll be even. But when I come to think of it, I don’t want to deprive myself of the fun. I want to see you suffer. I want to hear you beg. I want to see you regret.”

  Then, Will fires his gun, aiming at Hunter’s other leg.

  Because of the proximity, the bullet pierces through his thigh and comes out to the back. Hunter’s face has turned ashen as he watches blood spurts out of the severed blood vessels. His legs shake. And as much as he wants to scream, extreme throbbing blocks his voice box. Only his brain could process the sensation, and his mind bawls in rage.

  “See. I’m not too insensitive to have left the other unnoticed,” Will says as he calls for his men to drag Hunter into the table. They carry off his body like a corpse. The poor man is not even moving. His fresh wounds eject such high volumes of blood that his remaining strength could only allow him to keep his eyes open and watch these men drag him toward the table like an animal.

  What did he do for Will to act like this? He tries to remember.

  With his body slumped against the table, he hears Will’s voice, telling his men to get the ‘tools.’

  “I miss her.” Will’s voice shows traces of gloom. “Don’t you, Stag?”

  Right. Now he remembers.

  “Don’t you, Stag?” His voice heightens.

  Hunter just weakly shakes his head.

  Will chuckles.

  “Not really the right answer,” he says. “You know you could change things by answering wisely. Seems like you chose to be stupid.”

  Ivanka Fraser.

  Will’s love who died seven years ago.

  “It’s your fault, Stone.”

  And all these because he was a philandering scum. He victoriously led Will’s sweet innocent love, Ivanka, to his bed many times. Will knew about it, but he did nothing because Ivanka was smitten by the strong brute that Hunter was. She was in love with him, and Hunter took advantage of that.

  Will forced himself to accept this arrangement because he believed in their friendship—him, Hunter, and Damien. But when the day came Hunter realized he was doing nothing for his life and he was destroying everything that is promising for his brother, he quit. He left the gang without batting an eyelash. He left Ivanka brokenhearted and Will furious.

  “That night, she died trying to protect you,” Will says. His eyes are preventing the tears from falling. “She could have protected me, but she did not because it was you whom she loved. But what did you do to her? I could have forgiven you for leaving and betraying the group by calling the cops in Delaware. But for causing Ivanka’s death? I can’t and will not.”

  “It was seven years ago…” Hunter struggles to say.

  “Yes, seven years ago, but it is as clear as yesterday for me, Stag. How I wish Damien had not missed your heart although I knew he did not do it on purpose. He was trying to protect you from Amal’s man, but instead of hitting the other, he hit you. We should have taught Damien to shoot well—that’s one of my regrets. I’m not like you, Stone. I don’t forgive. I don’t even forget. You did not love her.”

  “We were so young, Will…”

  Will pulls Hunter’s arms and lays them on top of the table. He flattens the man’s palms against the wooden board, and says, “Not an excuse.” He takes a thick five-inch nail from the man standing beside him and hammers it through Hunter’s palm with a mallet.

  Blood spurts from the hole as his bones are crushed. Each time Will pummels the mallet against the head of the nail, Hunter yells in anguish.

  Now that his one hand is nailed on the table, he is forced to not move, or he could dismember himself. He feels his hand pulsating as blood rushes out of it. His fingers are shaking involuntarily.

  His legs are shot, and there’s no assurance he would walk again because of the injury he’s sustained. Now, his one hand is nailed, there’s no way he could take himself out from here.

  “Do you want to know how she died, Stag?”

  Feebly, he shakes his head.

  “No, eh?” Will takes a fist of Hunter’s hair and pulls his head up. Hunter’s face winces. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll still tell you.”

  And he whacks his head against the table. Hunter’s forehead hits the wood in no time, and reddening and swelling like scorching liquid is filling the space between his skull and skin.

  “Like you, it turned out she was a traitor. She called the cops as well because of the fear of Amal killing you. You owe your life to her. She could have lived if only you did not anger Amal. Did you think leaving the group was a bright choice? No. You did not only endanger the group, your life, and your brother’s but most of all her life.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Sorry for what? Your only fault in me is your betrayal and her death. Your apology is not enough. You should know what must be done.”

  Chapter 36 – His Aim

  Hunter…

  The softness in her eyes dulls the excruciating pain across his shoulders. The long night is torture, a reality he wishes to erase from his mind. Neither the blinding flashing lights above him nor the uncertainty of what lies ahead could take away the worsening ache of his body.

  Hunter…

  He sees her vividly… like she is real… like she stands next to him… caressing him lightly… singing in his ears the antidote for his broken soul.

  His Angel. His and only his.

  Her soft and warm embrace slowly silences him. The whimpering and moaning after hours of lashing and flogging wanes down as he intently listens to his love’s soothing voice.

  He is safe now.

  He feels her embrace, and her fragrance takes away the stench of blood, sweat, and dirt all over him. Angel’s innocent, loving, and assuring look on her face eradicates fear and worry.

  There’s nothing to worry about now. He is with her, and she is with him. He’s being held b
y her gently but securely. He knows no harm will come upon him now.

  None.

  But this serenity and security come with a burning heat creeping within his body like a rainstorm. The undying heat is consuming his flesh and scorching the remaining life Angel’s presence has brought him. His blood boil, and the cells inside him burst.

  Nonetheless, despite the unbearable internal heat, he takes comfort from Angel’s embrace. The heat is only a drop in the ocean as compared to the relief and comfort Angel brings upon him. Just the sparkle in her eyes and the daintiness of her smile distracts him from everything else.

  But when he thinks of what Will had done to him, he trembles.

  When the stinging memory of Will’s beating—all sort of pain he has inflicted upon him flashing right before his eyes—his muscles and skin react voluntarily. They tense up and twitch as though they are guarding the piece of soul left in him, the remaining dignity and humanness in him. Most of it was stolen from him by the maddening and merciless experience. How did Will turn him into this pathetic trembling creature? He, Hunter Stone, known to be ruthless and strong, would end up like this? here did he go wrong?

  Yet, it’s no time to think about that.

  Everything is alright now. Will is gone. He cannot touch him. Only Angel will. Only Angel is beside him.

  She glows. When he looks at her, he sees his future. He sees joy and comfort, love and forever. It even surprises him that in this condition, he is not embarrassed to let the woman he loves see him so wretched and defeated. If he were strong enough, he would never let Angel see him like this. He will never cast upon her the burden to worry about him. Never.

  But not this time. He needs her. He needs to feel her embrace and touch, to feel that she is there for him, and to know that no matter happens, she is with him. Angel alone can cure the damage he is now.

  “Ahh!!” His teeth grit in pain when a robust force shoves the back of his head against a wooden plank. His jaw clicks again—one of the hundred times he could remember, and his arms bulge as he feels the skin around his palms ripping off his tissues. His palms are pressed together against the wooden plank by a huge pike that carries his entire weight. Blood leaking from the hole mixes with cold water and tastes rusty and grimy on his tongue as it enters his mouth, cutting off his air temporarily.

  Then his body shivers instantly not because of the gnashing contact with the wall but because of the unexpected ice-cold water dripping off his head to his thrashed body. The cold and heat clashes like two opposing forces that generate a monstrous effect in his body. His brain doesn’t know whether to scream or just stay catatonic as the overpowering coldness quench away the heat. The sensation immediately paralyzes him, but the brief energy it gives him before totally freezing him allows him to figure out the horrific truth—Angel isn’t there.

  She is just a mirage of his desire to be secured. Just a figment of the ‘what could have been’ if not for his stupidity. All of the transitory comfort and calmness aren’t even real. He was made to believe it was true. It seemed real, though.

  “Wake up, Stone!” An unfamiliar face wakes him up.

  He is left to rely on his dwindling strength. The bones in his hands and fingers are all crushed after Will’s sadistic pounding, and yet they keep him supported as his legs has lost all its power to stand. Hunter literally hangs like a deranged doll. The huge nail bore into his flesh, piercing his shaking bones.

  When his eyes are fully opened, he sees Will sitting on a leathered couch with his legs atop a table filled with buckets of iced beer.

  “You’ve been asleep for two days, Stag,” he says. “You missed a lot of things.”

  Two days. It didn’t seem that long for him. Everything seems to have happened like a flash of lightning.

  “If you haven’t woken up, you’d probably be dead now. You were burning, and I had to scout the neighboring places for big chunks of ice, Stag. Looks like I’ve never truly lost my soft side for you yet.”

  Will approaches him, bends down, and looks straight into Hunter’s eyes.

  “A lot of things happened, Stone. I am very excited to tell you every detail of it. I assure you, I won’t miss a thing. But to ease you from your suffering, I’d let you know first about your beloved Angel. I know, you would want to know about her and the wondrous things that have happened to her without you. Those two days have been the best I’ve ever had so far.”

  Still weak and powerless, Hunter could only stare at the spiteful man. He swears to himself that if ever he gets himself free from the pike, he’d strangle the man with his own hands and take away his life.

  “She’s going crazy looking for you. Even Damien could not help her,” Will says as his contemptible grin disguises the evil he’s reeking of. “I bet your brother is taking this opportunity to win her over. She’s in her most vulnerable state! If I were Angel, I’d give up now, or better yet, look at her surroundings. Damien could always replace you, you know.”

  “Will…” his voice is dark but frail. He is struggling to pick up a little bit of strength to even breathe a word. “Enough of your brainwashing… Whatever you do… I know my brother…”

  “That is the problem with you, Stag. Are you even aware of that? You trust easily, and the people you trust take advantage of you. Don’t you think Damien has something to do with this? Cause if you don’t, then there you go, my friend, your greatest fault!”

  “I pity you, Will…” Hunter forcefully says. “All you do is hurt people… who only wants to be happy. I know why you’re doing this. It’s because you’ll never be happy. You’ve lost the only person who can love you. I’m sorry for that… truly. But you don’t have to involve others.” He understands his misery. Hunter knows how it is to have no one. But unlike Will, he was showered with abundant love by his mother. Technically, he did not really experience being alone, but for the longest time, he believed that he was, that he was like Will and the others. But now, he regrets even thinking about that. He was never alone. Now he realizes what he’s been missing. He’s got Victoria, Damien, and even his father, whom he thought never cared for him. And although he’s got no chance of getting to know James well, he could no longer crucify him. He’s aware that the man has been trying to reconnect. It’s just that he required more from him. He was not content. He wanted more, and yet he was damn too proud to accept what his father could offer him. It was him who rejected everything that came from James. He knows all the pain he inflicted upon the poor man, and he’s regretting it all now.

  “You know what? You’re not the best man to lecture me on that. You’re not very credible, Stone,” Will replies. “Back to Damien, your little brother. He put me through this. I help him with you, and he gives me protection. After all, he’ll be very wealthy and powerful. With his inheritance alone, I could keep my transactions hidden from the FBI or Interpol. Etheridge is old money, Hunter. He’s got great connections that will enable me to do my little things here on earth, and cutting you off from the face of this planet will make him an ounce wealthier. Imagine that. You are barely thirty, and yet you have your last will and testament written. You named your brother your sole heir in case something happens to you or you never marry. Too bad, fucking your little could-have-been wife is useless now. Damien will get everything you have because you are a fool to trust him.”

  “Shut the hell up, Will!”

  “You might be wondering how I knew about your plans. Well, you should not question me. Even Damien got no clue he’s possibly only a few millions poorer than the Rothschilds now. And I could assure you, with all that money, he could keep Angel really really happy.”

  “You could try, Will…” A small grin forms on Hunter’s calm but pale face. “You call me stupid, but I’m proving you wrong now. No matter what you do, I know my brother.”

  “Huge mistake, Stone! You’re barking at the wrong tree. Nowadays, you better know who your friends are.” Will stands up and turns his back on Hunter. “I’ll let you pass for reje
cting the bitter truth. It’s not my problem anymore. I’ve done my part. I’ve made Damien happy, and I’ll get my prize.”

  “Keep going… I’m enjoying your display of low intelligence…”

  Hunter’s sudden remark stops Will from walking away.

  “What is the truth, Will? I thought you’re doing this for revenge. I remember clearly that you wanted me dead because of Ivanka. Now you’re telling a whole different story. What is it really, Will?”

  With his hand on his hip, Will bites his lips with uncalled amusement.

  “I believe I underestimated you, Stone. I’ll give you props to that. But I can’t do anything about your stupidity. Let’s just put it this way, I’m hitting two birds with one stone. Got that? I take my revenge to the both of you in different ways. You know you both have to be handled differently. Let’s just say, Damien is an easier target. He was too consumed by his feelings and the overwhelming desire to get even with you, and I used that against him. Now, look how I am manipulating him. If you don’t want to believe that this is Damien’s doing, fine by me. It’s very obvious you have not taught him your cunning ways because if you had, he wouldn’t be easy to con.”

  “What have you done to him?” Hunter tries to free his hands from the pike, but the more he moves, the more the pain becomes too much to bear.

  “Oh, relax! I haven’t done anything to him yet. Not anything near to what I did to you at the very least. And come on, why are you still worrying about Damien? He’s the reason you’re here!”

  “I am going to kill you!” Shrieking with rage and pain, Hunter almost rips his hands by vehemently thrusting himself toward Will, but the nail is hammered deep into the wood.

  Will could not keep the rush of thrill running through him at the sight of Hunter. This is what he wanted to happen—to see the man pay for his sins. Sooner, he would not have to make the trouble of finishing him off; Hunter will do it himself. The man is desperate to cut his life short. The more he forces himself to move, the sooner he’s ending his life. He’s severely battered and bleeding, too weak to keep his eyes open, and here he is, burning through the remaining energy he has. He’s inviting his own death, and Will will have nothing to do with his passing.