I scoop eggs onto my plate along with two slices of toast. I watch her closely as we begin eating.
“What?” she finally asks.
“You’re going back to your brother in five days.” And why the hell did I need to remind her? Her expression changes completely and I swear the fucking light goes out of her eyes. What the hell did she expect? Fucking her doesn’t change my plans.
Without looking at me, she calmly stands and walks to the basement door. She opens it and descends the stairs. I look down at my food. We shouldn’t have had sex. I have no idea what came over me last night. It was a mistake. Probably the biggest fucking mistake in my life.
Chapter Fourteen
Melina
There are no tears, and I’m not even angry. I knew he would send me back. Sleeping with him wasn’t about saving myself. It was about having a good memory to take with me. I grimace as I sit down on the blanket. My ass and legs are sore, but I’ll live. For some reason, I thought what happened last night was more. More than just a quick fuck with his captive.
Maybe that’s why tears won’t come. Idiots shouldn’t cry. Hell, idiots shouldn’t voluntarily sleep with someone who kidnapped them. I inhale deeply and hold in the air for ten seconds. It’s calming and something my mother taught me. The thought of death no longer scares me. Only seeing my brother and feeling his wrath leaves me apprehensive. I just want it over with. The bit of hope I had in the kitchen was meaningless. I know better than to hope.
Austin’s footsteps on the stairs follow the opening of the basement door. I’ll be damned if I turn away from him. He wants me dead—he can face me. He’s holding a tray with my breakfast and he places it down beside me. I’m only surprised when he sits cross-legged on the blanket. I may not be crying, but I’m angry. If I could shoot lasers from my eyes, I would cut him in half and play in his blood.
“The last five days will be better for you if you behave,” he has the nerve to say. Like I’m some kind of spoiled child instead of a woman facing a death sentence.
I don’t even realize my fingers are holding the end of the chain with the ankle bracket. The solid thunk of it hitting his skull is satisfying. His low grunt more so. Unfortunately, I didn’t bash his brains in, so I’ll try again. I scramble to stand so I have more leverage. I’m almost upright when his shoulder takes me in the knees and I fly back against the wall.
“Couldn’t you just die?” I hiss raggedly as I kick out with both legs. It was foolish to strike him but it was oh so satisfying.
“Dammit, stop,” he shouts, and that only makes me fight harder. He’s on his knees and my foot connects with his jaw before his grip tightens around my hands and he literally throws me down and lands on top of me. Too fucking bad I still have teeth. I sink them into his arm and clench down as hard as I can.
“You fucking little hellion, stop.” His fingers pinch my cheeks painfully with no effect and then his palm slams against my head. It jars me enough that I let go. I try lifting my knee to connect where it will cause real damage, but he blocks me. I can barely breathe with his weight pushing me into the cold cement floor.
The fight suddenly leaves me and in its place is a freezing chill. It’s not the cement floor, it’s my heart. Never care and never love. That motto is part of my life. I knew better. And not that I love him, but for some fucked up reason I actually care.
“Are you finished throwing your fit?” he grinds out.
I feel no satisfaction seeing his bloody T-shirt where I bit him. Biting off his dick would help toward that goal, but it wasn’t within reach. I just want him to leave me alone for the next five days. Hell, he doesn’t even need to feed me. Why waste the fucking food?
He painfully grabs my jaw and moves his face inches from mine. “Are. You. Finished?” he demands again.
“Get off me.” I try pushing him, but his two hundred some odd pounds isn’t going anywhere unless he decides to move.
“Answer me.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not fucking finished. If you’re within reach, I’ll try to kill you. Now get the fuck off.”
He rolls away and climbs to his feet so he’s standing over me. His hands go to his waist and all his arrogance shows in every line of his muscled body. A body I know intimately even if I wish I didn’t. The bruises on my legs and ass come back into focus and I feel each belt strike again. He has all the control, all the power. It’s always been this way. Being born without a dick guaranteed my entire life would be hell.
The tray toppled when we fought and the food is smeared across the blanket. Austin grabs the cloth, scoops it up, and leaves the basement. I’m unchained and still captive. Big fucking win that is.
Chapter Fifteen
Austin
The stairs to the kitchen have never taken longer. Having Melina by my side forever would be glorious. Images of what our life could be like flash through my head. Melina doesn’t shy away from death. Hell, she welcomes it with open arms.
Guilt and revenge sit heavily on my chest. That bothers me because it means I feel something besides hatred. Not good in my line of work, where the inability to give a fuck is the best advantage a man can have.
I lock the basement door so I have time to get my head on straight and clean the bloody damage she left on my shoulder. The water from the shower washes away all but the imprint of her teeth, which between last night and this morning, she’s painted an erotic as fuck trail on my skin. Too bad the marks aren’t permanent like the ink.
I have a million things to do. I need to check in with Andreas. Hell, I need to work out and let off some steam. Instead, with clean clothes and wet hair, I enter the basement carrying two cups of coffee and a new blanket. She’s sitting against the wall, her expression sullen. I step closer and squat in front of her. She doesn’t take her eyes from mine.
“Coffee, if you can resist tossing it in my face.” My humor doesn’t break through, so I try honesty. “Cindy, Victor’s wife, was the closest thing I had to a mother. It’s impossible to love a man like me, but she tried. I don’t have a single bad memory of her.” I wait a minute before continuing. “Your brother tortured her. They raped, burned, and mutilated her body beyond recognition while she was alive. They made Victor watch the entire time. You’re going back to your brother alive. It’s the best I can do.”
Her eyes water, and I know she’s listening. She angrily wipes her face before glaring again. I’m surprised she can speak with her jaw clenched so tightly but she manages to say, “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. Diego will kill me.” She shrugs like it’s no consequence. “You want me to sympathize with your plans when I know that plan will be my death?” She doesn’t give me a chance to reply and holds up her hand. “I won’t fucking celebrate my coming death. I won’t make this easy on you. My brother needs to die and returning me to him won’t change that. If you think he’ll care past the few hours it takes to kill me, you’re wrong. And that’s if I’m lucky. I’ve seen what my brother’s capable of. He’ll see the ink as a personal betrayal. After I’m dead he’ll never think of me again.” She inhales and exhales shakily while her eyes drill mine. “Your revenge is bullshit. The weak are the only people who suffer in your games of territory, money, and power. I’m tired of being weak and living like a scared rabbit. At least let me die without your bullshit by simply leaving me alone until I leave.”
I rest her coffee on the floor. “The door will be unlocked. You have free roam of the inside of the house until you leave unless I need to go somewhere. If you’re not upstairs this afternoon, I’ll come get you. I need to check the ink.”
I stride up the stairs angry at myself. I should have worked out before the shower but if I don’t blow off steam, someone will pay the price. It’s not like I give a fuck about the water bill, so I’ll shower again.
∞∞∞
Two hundred pushups and ten miles on the treadmill do nothing to take my mind off Melina. Why did I allow her to get under my skin? Why do I even give a fuck t
hat she’s sitting down on a cold floor when she could be comfortable upstairs?
After another shower, I call Andreas. “The woman will be gone in five days. I want a team watching over Fernandez for a week after she goes back and I want daily reports.”
“Got it, boss. The latest shipment just arrived. Would you like to oversee unpacking it in person?”
It’s something I did for Victor. He liked me around the men so they remembered what betrayal had in store. “No, handle it. Let me know if there are any discrepancies.” I end the call and head to the master bedroom. There’s a box in the back of the closet. I pull it out and set it on the bed. Taking a seat, I open one of the teakwood drawers. Vincent’s rings flash with a touch of light from the window. I grab the least garish one and push it on my right ring finger. He and Cindy were buried with their expensive wedding rings, but I kept these. The ring I’m wearing is one Cindy bought for Victor. It’s titanium with black inlay and inscribed on the inner band with Cindy’s name. The next drawer holds rings that Cindy cherished; the one I want is a smaller version of the one I’m wearing. Victor bought it for Cindy so their rings matched when he wore the titanium. His name is inscribed like hers is. I slip a pendant off a silver necklace and place Cindy’s ring on it. I hold it for several minutes thinking about Cindy and the joy she found in making Victor happy.
I’ll never have that.
I slip the necklace over my head and tuck the ring beneath my shirt. With a curse, I almost pull it off and snap the chain. Memories like these have no place in my life.
Revenge does.
Chapter Sixteen
Melina
I obediently follow Austin upstairs. It’s day five and I’m sure my time is up. I haven’t said a word to Austin since he left me in the basement after our fight. He’s talked minimally, which helps. I’ve eaten little food and complied stiffly when he checks the tattoo. The damn thing itches, and he’s lucky I haven’t scratched the ink from my skin.
The smell of dinner fills the kitchen when we walk through the door. The table is set for two. I ignore it and head to the master bath. With a shrug, I lift my right arm and pull the T-shirt off. In the mirror, my olive skin is pale. The eyes peering back at me are dead with no hope.
Austin stands behind me. I ignore the ink on my breast like I’ve ignored it these past five days. He washes my back, ass, and lastly, my breast. The water is warm and should be soothing, but it’s not. I impatiently wait for him to apply the ointment so we can end this charade.
“You’ll be eating dinner with me tonight,” he says after he’s finished. “You’ve healed well.” He’s looking at me in the mirror without remorse. This is the old Austin. I hate him and at the same time, I want to throw myself in his arms and beg. That’s the old Melina too.
He guides me to the kitchen after giving me a clean T-shirt and I sit down across from him. I lift the red wine, take a healthy swallow, and enjoy the dry bitterness as it goes down. It should help with courage so I don’t grovel. My will to live is stronger today, but I know it will only make it harder on me in the end.
Austin places chicken and rice on my plate. It’s nothing fancy but tastes delicious when I lift a fork to my lips and nibble. I remain silent while eating and guzzle the wine. The lack of speech is harder to take tonight. Things were much easier when I thought sharing my life might change his mind. The stories passed the time and helped me deal with my fucked up life. Now they’re meaningless. No one but Austin will ever know what my life was like and no one including him will ever care. I drink the last of my wine and stand to return downstairs.
“Stay seated,” he orders.
“Why?”
He grunts and continues eating.
The wine goes to my head and the room spins slightly. Austin pours me another glass and I down it. “If I’m not leaving, let me spend my last night in peace, please.”
He lifts his head and our eyes meet. Death is back in the cold green irises. His voice is completely devoid of emotion when he says, “Last night was your last night.”
There it is. I’m going back tonight. Too soon. I stare down at my empty plate. Austin stands and walks behind me. His hand smooths down my hair and over my cheek until he’s cupping my jaw. I clench my fingers tightly, not wanting his touch. “Your brother won’t kill you. You’re his flesh and blood.”
With all the power of my slender muscles, I grab my fork and slam it into his groin. It enters his flesh and I’m thrown from the chair with a shove of his forearm. The floor has no cushion and my shoulder takes the brunt.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Austin yells. I hope I’ve ended his chances to ever fuck again, so his litany is not appropriate. He limps to the sink and grabs a handful of paper towels. I watch through the hair covering my face as he shucks his pants to check on the damage. If it were a direct hit to his cock, I doubt he’d be moving this easily.
My head spins and it dawns on me that something besides the wine is responsible. “You drugged me,” I yell with rising panic as I try to stand.
“Stay down or you’ll fucking fall down,” he snaps.
“Fuck you,” I yell and try to stand. My legs won’t work, and I melt back to the floor staring up at the ceiling. Austin fills my vision. His face, his eyes, his heart. No, that’s blood from his leg, I think groggily as I try to hold on to consciousness. “I hope your dick rots off,” I slur.
“Close but no cigar, baby.”
“I’m not your baby.” My lips feel swollen twice their size. “Don’t do this, please.” Why am I begging? I can’t. I won’t. “Just kill me.” That, I will beg for.
A phone rings far away, but then Austin answers it and I realize it’s the drug making it sound further away than it is. “Bring them into the house,” he says and I wonder if he means my brother. He lifts me into his arms and I’m too boneless to fight. Dark spots fill my vision. My last thought is that if I’m lucky, I’ll never wake up.
∞∞∞
Austin
My groin throbs. Melina’s stab barely missed being a direct hit, thank God. I’m furious with myself for not expecting her to fight. She lulled me into a sense of security these past five days. Again with her I behaved stupidly. I rest her body on an oriental rug in the entry to the formal living room.
“Boss?”
I glance up at Andreas. Moon and Gomez are in full black suits standing behind him. “Leave us,” I tell Andreas. I know he’s wondering why I’m standing here minus pants with blood covering my leg, but he does as I ask and leaves quickly.
“I take it the news she’s going home didn’t go over as well as planned,” Moon says lightly.
“Fuck you, the bitch stabbed me with a fork.” Hell it’s deep and throbs all the way to the end of my dick.
Gomez laughs. “My kind of woman.”
I want to wipe the fucking grin off his face. Instead, I lean over and begin gently removing Melina’s T-shirt.
Gomez whistles. “Nice ink.”
I roll her to her stomach and again Gomez whistles. “Quite the art.”
It is and it’s beautiful. The tapestry is everything I wanted and maybe more than I bargained for. I leave her there, tearing my gaze from the ink and walk out after telling Moon I’ll return with pants. I grab them from the kitchen counter and carefully pull them up. It was a fucking fork, but she put enough force into it to go through skin and muscle. I zip and leave the top unfastened and then return to the living room.
Moon and Gomez look at me and then focus on Melina. She’s mine, I want to shout. Damnit, I want to ink it on her fucking forehead. I walk closer and stand over her. Her mussed hair begs for my fingers. My body begs for her lips. Anger and guilt war inside me. Without thinking about what I do next, I roll her to her back, unzip my jeans and pull out my cock. A few seconds later, the yellow stream covers Melina’s chest, her legs clear to her feet, and back up to her chest. Moon gives a short curse and Gomez laughs. I couldn’t care less what they think. Covering her in my piss releas
es something deep in my chest. I’ll kill her brother and then find her. I tuck myself back into my pants and roll her up in the carpet. After lifting her in my arms, I turn to the men. A tuft of hair is all that shows of the woman inside the carpet. That and the smell of my piss.
Gomez steps forward. “Fernandez is mine,” I tell him. “His sister is the message. Make sure he knows this is only the beginning.” I place the only woman besides Cindy I’ve cared about into his arms.
“You’re fucked in the head, Austin,” he says with a gleam in his eyes. Gomez the psychopath has no idea who and what I truly am, but he recognizes the monster because he carries his own. He turns to the door and Moon follows.
“Have someone look at the wound on your leg,” Moon says over his shoulder.
“I’ll live.”
Moon turns and eyes me up and down. “Fernandez will come after you.”
“I’m counting on it.”
They leave with Melina and I head to the whiskey. By the third glass, doubt sets in. My feet move of their own accord even though I know where they’re taking me. I open Victor’s safe and remove the 10 by 10 metal box. The lock broke years ago. The dented metal is green with paint flakes scratched off here and there. Victor gave me the box on the one-year anniversary of me coming to live here.
I lift the hinged top and move aside the top newspaper clipping. I placed the latest one in here a few days after Victor and Cindy’s funeral. The other clippings are about me. I go to the bottom of the box and pull out the thin strip of paper. It shows a burned down home on the outskirts of Austin, Texas.
Fire kills two
Investigation underway
There’s more about my mother and her latest boyfriend. The article makes them sound like nice people, which is a complete lie. I feel nothing as I look at the burned image of the place I lived. Half the time there was no running water. More often than not, we had no electricity. That was usually when my mom was between boyfriends. My mother’s drugs were as constant as my starving belly. I don’t have a single good memory of her or the house.
Combust (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 6) Page 10
