by Redding, Mae
Damian grabbed me. I fought with everything I had as they tore me from Trey’s grasp. Pain shot through my fingers as I gripped with desperation onto the doorway. My screams echoed loudly through the hollow hallways as Damian pried my fingers off the metal doorframe.
“You want to stay? You want to watch Trey get his beating!” Damian’s face raged, smeared with blood and anger as he picked up a pair of pliers off the table. “Have you ever watched someone get their fingernails ripped out?”
“No! Don’t!”
“Tell me what I want to know! Where’s Kane?”
I frantically searched Trey’s eyes. Confined by Rubin, his arms spread eagle with his chest flat and his cheek pressed against the table. With heated eyes Trey looked up at me, his face anguished and bruised. He shook his head. His eyes pleaded and warned me to keep quiet as Rubin and the guard tied his arms to the table.
“I don’t know!”
“Where’s your dad!”
“My dad is dead! Why do keep asking about him!”
“You have two seconds to tell me where Kane is meeting your dad! One!”
He handed the guard the pliers as he stared at me closely. His eyes crazed like a wild animal. Was it possible? Could my dad really be alive? I thought of the possibility. He couldn’t be! Kane wouldn’t keep that from me, would he?
“Damian! I don’t know!” I cried! I desperately wanted to give him something! To satisfy his warped, sadistic mind and end his animalistic rage, but it had to be believable.
“Two!” Damian turned to the guard to give the order and with Trey’s hands spread out on the table struggled to get a hold of his finger.
“Wait! Stop!”
“I’m waiting, Jade!”
“I’ll tell you… He’s in Mi…!”
“Jade no!” Trey yelled. His eyes shocked, angry. “What are you doing?” I felt torn I couldn’t watch him tortured. My heart pounded with intensity that caused a sharp pain in my chest as everyone looked at me, waiting for my response. I wanted to run, to hide in a hole and never come out. My own death couldn't possibly be this bad and suddenly, I wished I had died with my mom.
“Tell me!”
“He’s…” I looked at Trey. His eyes hurt as he still pleaded with me not to talk. I looked at him with a yearning for peace, for rest, for the brutality to be over. My body ached, my heart hurt and I couldn't breathe as if my chest were crushed like stamped metal.
“Jade don’t,” Trey said softer, as a look of submission settled in his eyes. “I’m okay.”
“Now, Jade! And losing his fingernails will be the least of his worries!”
“Promise me you won’t hurt him!”
“Tell me right now! Or I’ll give the order!”
“He’s in M…Mexico…” My voice trailed off. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at my brother. “I’m sorry, Trey.”
Trey let his head fall against the table as if he’d given up, disappointed in me. I disappointed myself. With a barbed glare in his eyes, I shifted uncomfortably under my skin. The relief I longed for wasn't there. I felt as if I had reached into my chest and ripped out my own heart. My gut wrenched into a knot as if I signed and sealed Kane's execution, exposed something, or someone.
Damian grabbed my cheeks with his hand and moved his face closer to mine. “You better not be lying, or it’ll be your fingernails.”
“I’m not,” I said, as I tried to calm myself. My chest ached painfully as it constricted, I still couldn't breathe. Afraid he would know or could tell I lied.
“What part of Mexico?”
“Through New Mexico… Somewhere past the border by Texas.” A tear ran down my cheek. I looked into Damian’s eyes, wild and pathetic. Nothing but deceptive dark holes that led to the pit of his ruthless cold heart.
“Now, where were we,” he gave me a depraved smile. His hands tightened on my arms.
“Please… I gave you what you wanted.”
“You asked me not to hurt Trey. And I won’t… This time… For you telling me what I wanted to know. But I still have plans for you.”
Rubin leaned over Trey and spoke in his ear. My brother’s green eyes turned angry then visibly hurt. He looked up at me and I watched him struggle, his strained muscles pulled tight against his restraints.
“No!” He yelled.
“Let go of me!” I cried, as Damian gripped my arms tightly. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m giving you your mark.”
“What mark?’
“The mark that will always remind you who you belong to!”
“No, I don’t want it! Trey! Stop!” He pulled me down the hallway that seemed to close in around me then stopped in front of a closed door. “I don’t want to go in there! Please…!”
***
Through a fog, I slowly lifted my head and looked around an unfamiliar room, unsure of how I got there. I blinked, my eyes heavy with lethargy. My mind cleared from the familiar haze as the drug wore off. The stinging, burning sensation in my chest just below my left shoulder grew with intensity and reminded me of earlier. The tightness of the handcuffs around my wrists became more apparent as I realized I was strapped to a chair and I glance up to see Morrison.
A tattoo of a bound woman on his upper right arm. Her curves accentuated by his bulging bicep. She sat in a chair with barely any clothes. Her head hung down and her long hair covered her face and some of her body. I glanced down at my filthy, worn clothing that hung from mine. She resembled everything I felt.
I looked past him. Books lined the back wall up to the height of the ceiling. Picturesque windows took the place of the outside wall. A big black flag hung on the center of another wall. A symbol, an A with a sword slashed through it, circled in gold and blood red stitching. I stared at it for more than a moment, stunned by the level of organization Morrison had accomplished with his faction of rebels. More than just rebels against a fallen nation, a fully functional and operating Militia against the once, strongest nation in the world.
I pulled my eyes from the flag and glanced at Morrison. Behind him, filing cabinets and a desk with papers scattered across the top. He leaned back against the cherry oak desk with his arms folded across his chest directly in front of me. His dark eyes followed mine and our glares met briefly but I had to look away.
I looked out the window to the unfamiliar surroundings of the mountains outside. The jail was in the middle of the city with big buildings that surrounded it. I wasn’t in the jail any longer.
“Where am I?”
“You are in my home now.”
“Why?”
A long uncomfortable silence filled the air. “So your dad’s in Mexico?”
I hesitated as the events with Trey suddenly flooded back into my mind. “Yeah,” I said as I continued with my lie. A single tear spilled down my cheek. I looked down at my bound wrists. Sunlight filtered in ribbons through the window and as it rested on me, I recognized the warmth as it soaked into my skin. I suddenly felt guilty as I thought of Trey, confined in that cold, dark jail.
Morrison gave a nod to Jackson who stood against the wall and he walked out the door.
“Figures he would run to Mexico,” Morrison mumbled. “If your dad is in Mexico, Jackson will find him. I hope for your sake he is.”
“What do you want with my dad?”
“Two reasons. Years ago… your dad took something from me.”
I looked at him with disbelief as I tried to wrap my mind around the idea of my dad, involved somehow with this man and I wondered if my mom had known about it.
“Does he still have it?”
“No, he lost it. I made sure of that,” Morrison sneered. I wanted to slide deeper into my seat. His eyes penetrated deeply, unreadable to what he thought but possessed an overbearing tyrannical demeanor. “No, I’ll never get that back, don’t want it back. But having you here now has facilitated getting even with him.”
“And the second?”
“He’s crossed me twice and
I’m not going to let it go this time,” he said. His deep voice thick with resounding promise sent a chill up my spine as I wondered what he had in mind.
“What did he do?”
“Let’s just say he has something else of mine…still in his possession, and I will have it back.”
His steely glare left me uncomfortable and it disturbed me even more to talk about my dad with him. My dad was dead and whether Morrison wanted to believe it or not he would never get back whatever he thought my dad took, but I wasn't about to try to convince him of it.
“The last run he made, he wasn’t supposed to be gone so long. I needed something on that train…You know, you could have bypassed the last two weeks if you would have given me what I wanted then.”
“So it’s my fault you tortured me?”
“Yeah, it is. You give me what I want, and your life will be easier… And Trey’s. In fact, let’s just say, your behavior directly affects what kind of treatment your brother gets.”
“I want to see Trey.”
“Okay… I will let you see him for a minute,” he surprised me as he gave a quick nod to someone to the side of me. I turned my head slightly and glanced back to see a less than enthused Rubin as he propped himself against the wall. He moved upright slowly, and then headed for the door. I looked back at Morrison as he cleared his throat. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
My mind felt conflicted as I wondered if I dared to believe he would let me see Trey as I became desperately hopeful. Morrison stood and walked towards me slowly. I sank into my chair as his heavy boots thudded against the hardwood floor and he stood directly in front of me. “Damian will show you to your room and if you behave, you won’t have to go back to your cell.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going live here now. You are free to go where you want, within certain boundaries. If you don’t abuse your freedoms, you will eventually get to go outside with the others. But if you cross me, you’ll wish you were dead. There is no way to get out… So don’t try to escape... It won’t turn out good.” Morrison walked to the window and looked out, blocking the ribbon of light that I so desperately needed. As if, he himself, gave me the sun and would take it away and leave me in the shadows whenever he felt necessary. “You belong to Damian now.”
“No I don’t!”
“Shut your mouth!” He whirled around and walked briskly towards me. He grabbed my arms and moved closer. His eyes narrowed. “The first thing I suggest you learn here is where your place is and when to bite your tongue! I have picked you for Damian!”
“You can’t force me to want him!”
“It’s not your decision!” He yelled, the veins in his forehead pulsed, fueling his mind with the venom that encouraged his insane ideas. “It’s mine. He’ll give you time to accept him.”
“I will never-!”
“Yes you will!” He said as he cut me off. “This is your life now!... Damian! Take her out!”
The familiar sounds of Damian’s boots echoed in the room as he crossed the hardwood floor. The handcuffs sprung open as Damian released the locks and he grabbed me by the arm. We walked down a long hallway that seemed to narrow, constricting my weak grasp for control of my own life. We passed wide stairs that spiraled down. My eyes followed them to where they ended in some kind of entryway, presumably the front door.
“Don’t go downstairs until I say you can. Everything you need is upstairs,” Damian said, as we came to a door he placed a silver key through the doorknob and twisted it open. He walked me inside and I looked around the dreary room. “This is your room. Mine is across the hall…for now,” Damian turned to leave.
“You can’t make me like you!”
“You will…in time.”
“I love Gage!”
Angrily, Damian whirled around with a swift blow. His unexpected abrasiveness threw me to the floor. I shrieked. My hand went up and touched my cheek. It throbbed instantly and started to swell. I forced back tears. He towered over me with anger in his eyes he grabbed my arm and forced me to stand in front of him.
“Gage is dead!”
“No!” I frantically searched his eyes for the truth only to see steely resolve. “He’s not dead!”
“The sooner you accept this… The better it will be for you.”
“You are lying!” I lunged forward and shoved him. He staggered back. Anger and fear raged through me. My heart plummeted as if he threw me off a cliff and shattered my insides into a million pieces. My mind whirled. I felt dizzy, tumbling through air with no one to catch me as uncontrollable tears sprang to my eyes. I continued to swing at him. “No!”
I hit him repeatedly, hoping the pain in my fists would somehow mask the pain in my heart. He stood there unmoved by my physical assaults, indifferent to my panicked sobbing for Gage. My heart felt crushed inside, stomped on, ripped in two as my world continued to spin wildly out of control. I wanted Gage, I needed him, and the thought of never seeing him again was too much, causing an unbearable, physical pain in my chest.
“He's dead, Jade!” Damian grabbed my arms and overpowered me with restraint, squeezing me to his chest. I pushed against him to no avail and fought to get away.
“Let go of me!” I cried. The saltiness of my tears dissolved into my lips.
“No,” Damian said, with an eerie calmness in his voice as he forced me to look at him. I searched his eyes for a hint promise that he might be lying but saw a pained somberness as if he somehow felt bad about the pain he just caused me. “I'm sorry, Jade... He's dead.”
“You’re sorry! You're not sorry! What are you talking about?” I pushed against him and he released me as he shoved me onto the bed. I scrambled to the head of the bed and grabbed a pillow, my only means of comfort. I needed to hide, to go to that place in my mind where it was just Gage and me. I tensed and braced for Damian's next move as I hid my face in the pillow. The door slammed and I jumped. I looked up briefly, only to see I was alone as another wave of tears hit me again, and then I buried myself in the pillow and with wailing sobs, cried myself to sleep.
***
I gasped as I woke and sat suddenly upright with a start. My heart beat with sheer terror as I looked around and prayed I was lost somewhere in a bad dream. I let out a sigh at the realization that my nightmare was real. I rubbed my face, tight from dried tears while another wave hit me and I felt moisture well in my eyes as thoughts of Gage entered my mind. I closed my eyes to picture his face, and then interrupted with a start as Damian burst through the door.
“Please… Damian, tell me he's alive,” I pleaded, through puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.
He ignored my request as he stormed across the room to me, grabbed my arm and pulled me off the bed. “Morrison might have told you I will give you time. But not much. You will like me! And you will not look at me like I am a monster anymore!”
“You haven’t given me anything to like, Damian. You are evil!”
“I went back and shot him that night. Gage is cold and rotting in the ground. They will never find his body and he will never come for you! I made sure of it. We can do this the hard way if you want! But either way, you are with me!”
Damian left as quickly as he came and stormed out of the room sucking all the air out with him. I gasped desperately to breathe as my throat constricted. The tears fell and I couldn’t hold them back. I didn't want to, Gage deserved every tear. I let my body collapse into the black marbled carpet as my body caved under the heaves of my sobs.
My cries slowed. As I wiped my tears, I sat up, got to my feet and stood in the middle of the room that reminded me of a cheap hotel that lacked personality and life. I walked into the bathroom and glanced in horror at my reflection. My disheveled hair lacked its usual golden shine. My face cut and bruised with a new red mark just under my left eye was blotchy and swollen from tears, leaving my bloodshot eyes dull and lacking the life, I desperately needed back.
I pulled at the neck of my shirt to reveal my lef
t shoulder. Just under it, above my heart was the mark Damian gave me. The red raw skin was tender to touch as I ran my fingers over the two-inch symbol. The same symbol on the black flag that hung in Morrison’s office, also on the wall of my room and permanently tattooed on the left side of my chest as another reminder that he would dictate every move I made. It revealed nothing I belonged to Damian. This told me I belonged to Morrison. Tears sprang to my eyes as I stared at its ugliness.
“Ugghh!” I screamed, and cried out as I swiped at the personal hygiene bottles along the plain white countertop and sent them flying across the bathroom crashing onto the floor. I dropped my head against the counter. Every sob repeated by the echo against the bathroom walls.
I looked up. How was this girl in the mirror me? Why was I here? I pulled myself from the counter and walked out of the bathroom into the room and over to the curtains. I pulled them open to French doors that led outside.
I wiped my eyes and hesitated for a minute as I reached for the doorknob. I pushed the door open and took a step outside onto the somewhat opened patio. A warm breeze blew through the curtains that flowed through to air out my warm stuffy room. I sighed and looked out at the blue sky. I welcomed the sultry air as I realized this was the first time I’d been outside in over a month.
I walked to the edge of the patio to the partition wall that came half way up and hit me about my waist. From there, a chain link fence stretched about eight feet with thick curls of barbed wire along the top. I clasped my fingers through the metal links and looked out. I felt caged, imprisoned in a tower with no means of escape and even more disheartening to see beyond my confinement.
To say the compound was huge, was an understatement, it was a mini city. Militia and a few women walked about, going about their business. I knew from the inside that the building I was in was big, but to see it from the outside, it was larger than I thought.
My eyes followed the driveway towards the opposite end of the compound that ended at a large gate. The compound, double fenced all around. Militia stood in between on guard with two guard towers at both corners.
