Darkest Perception_A Dark and Mind-Blowing Steamy Romance

by Shari J. Ryan

  The man turns his head toward the bars. "Not talking!" he shouts. "Plan B." He looks back over at me and by the way his eyes curve, I get the feeling he's smiling beneath his face cover. "You're going to wish you went with Plan A." He'll probably be saying that about Plan C, D, E, and F too. I stare right into his eyes, enduring the dry pain from not blinking in this dust-covered hole.

  The men outside of the hall are talking to each other, and I hear a mess of uneven footsteps growing closer to us. It almost feels as if I’m numb to this, like I'm on the outside looking in. I should be feeling fear and whatever else they're trying to force me to endure, but for so long I have felt dead living in this body, alone in a world where I can't be truthful with even myself. They're doing me a favor, and I should be thanking them.

  The bars disjoin and half of the shuffling feet continue inside the confined space.

  Everything has been tolerable up until this point. I've managed to conceal emotional distress or any other type of mental inhibitions, but at the moment, everything I have felt in the last three years is filling me from the tips of my toes up to my head.

  Axel stands before me in a pair of handcuffs, bloody, bruised, an eye swollen shut, but he’s as still and silent as I am. My heart is pounding, aching, and shattering. They can't see it in my eyes, though. I won't let them. They think he's my weakness.

  He is my weakness.

  Bastard. This is my fault.

  The man standing next to Axel is dressed the same as the interrogator who has been keeping me company, except the man next to Axel has an eight-inch combat knife with the blade pressed against Axel's throat.

  "Let's try this again," the interrogator in the chair, says to me.

  "What is your name?" I hold my gaze on Axel instead of the interrogator. I'm at a loss for understanding now, especially as to what side he was on—if there are multiple sides. I had the idea that it was just me on my own side, fighting against all these assholes.

  "Isabelle Hammel," I tell them. I won't be the reason he's killed. Murder was never supposed to be a part of this fucking development. I didn't know what I was learning or that I was being bred to use against people. I had an interest in the psychological facets of the human brain, and now it's being used against me.

  Axel mouths the word, "Stop."

  I involuntarily shake my head. Whether he has been honest with me, he fed me and kept me safe these last few weeks, and the least I can do is spare his life for shit I'm responsible for.

  "Were you practicing beneath Dr. Mason Phillips?" the man continues.

  The color in Axel's face fades into a pale hue. "Yes," I reply.

  The man with the knife pulls out a piece of paper and pen from his back pocket and hands it over to the man in the chair. "Write down the password to the file."

  Everett has the SD card. He ripped them off me the other day. He thought I didn’t notice. He thought if I did, I’d care.

  Axel closes his eye that isn't already swollen shut. I feel like we're coming to an end here, and this breach of data is going to cause a wave of terrorism I was warned of.

  They may have Everett too. I could buy time and give them the wrong password, but I know what the repercussions will be when they find out I've lied.

  I take the paper and pen from his hand, debating between selfishness or selflessness, even after I have given up my life for a reason I never asked for.

  My stomach gnarls with pain, but I've made my decision, and I think it's one I won’t have to live with for too long.

  28

  Axel

  I want to say so many things to Isabelle right now, all of which would be the truth. However, I know if I open my mouth, the metal blade pressed against my neck will slide right through me with little effort.

  She doesn't understand.

  The asshole trying his hand with her thinks he's playing a game of roulette, and he is, but like him, no one knows the outcome here.

  "Here's the deal," the man in the chair says. "You get the correct key code from her, and you'll be let go, but she'll be taken care of. If she offers it up on her own, she'll be let go, and you'll be taken care of. Unfortunately, there aren't two winners in this case, so figure it out between the both of you."

  I want to ask him what happens when neither of us says a word, but I have an assumption. Though, killing one or both of us won't get them any further.

  "Set the clock," he says while standing from his chair. The men open the metal gate and lock us inside.

  Isabelle is staring through me, and I can only imagine what thoughts are going through her head. I imagine she doesn't trust me for obvious reasons, but she can also see the damage done to my face. If I were her, I'd be figuring it was a setup so she'll probably want me to take the fall, rather than herself.

  She takes a few steps forward, reaching out for my face. The tips of her soft fingers sweep against a bruise that I can feel deep inside. "Is everything a lie?" she asks softly.

  I answer immediately, needing her to know I didn't have to think, needing her to see I can look her in the eyes while saying "No."

  "You can give them the key code," she says. "I don't want to live like this anymore."

  "No, this is insane. They'll still kill both of us. Don't give that information up, no matter what. Do you understand?" I ask her.

  That guy was a moron. Either I get the information from her or she says it out loud on her own? Either way, it's coming out of her mouth, so they can play with their words, but they aren't getting this.

  "Where's the SD card?" I ask out into the dark hall.

  "It's here," one of them says.

  "Show me," I demand.

  They laugh, as I expected.

  "Harley, give them the code," I tell her.

  "Harley?" one asks.

  I push her against the wall with force and bring my cuffed hands up to her neck. I arch my neck and whisper into her ear. "You got a bobby pin on you?"

  She exhales a small sigh, enough for me to hear the positive inflection. I reach behind her head, causing the cuffs to press against her throat as I retrieve a pin from the back of her hair.

  "Are you going to say it?" I hiss.

  "No," she breathes.

  "No?" I question.

  "Yes," she replies.

  "Good," I tell her.

  "No," she continues.

  Her eyebrow perks with a slight twitch, and I know what she's doing.

  "Isabelle, the code," I say.

  "Okay," she says. Her eyelashes bat furiously, making her look completely insane. "Yes."

  The footsteps from the men outside of the cell echo as they come closer.

  "The code," I remind her.

  "Code," she says.

  I pull my hands away from her neck and move them up to her cheeks, using a visible force that should only be seen and not felt.

  "What is it?” I press.

  She spits in my eyes and instinctually, I want to squeeze her face a little harder, but I fucking love this woman. I wipe my face off on my sleeve. "Your code," she says.

  "What the hell is she doing?” one of the men yells in.

  "You know she ain’t right," I yell out to them. "Shit, what the hell are you expecting?"

  "Get the damn code," I hear from them.

  "Code," she says again.

  "They're playing with us," I hear another one of the men say.

  "Do you hear that?" Isabelle asks me.

  I nod. "No,” I respond. She's up to something.

  "Ow," she groans then whimpers as if she were in pain. "Ow, stop it. Stop it, stop it!"

  I'm glad I'm the only one who can look at her with a hint of a smile. Learning the techniques in her brain turns me on, despite knowing there's a good chance we aren't getting the hell out of here.

  "Stop it, what are you doing? Why are you doing this to me?" She's screaming and wrenching her fingers through her hair. Her face is turning a deep shade of red, and she falls to her knees holding her ears. "Why?" S
he continues to cry out. "Make it stop! Please, God, make it stop. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't take it anymore. Why? Why? Please!"

  Holy shit. She's either for real or deserves a goddamn Emmy. "Isabelle, what's … "

  "Fuck off. Fuck you, Axel. Fuck you, Everett. Fuck you, Mason. Fuck everyone. I don't give a shit about a damn code, or a fucking interrogation weapon. Go kill everyone, just kill me first. Kill me, you hear, you fucking assholes. Kill me."

  "Isabelle,” I say again. She might be losing it, for real.

  "Fuck you," she screams. "I don't even have the code." She starts laughing, deep belly laughs as she curls into a ball. "I forgot the code."

  Shit.

  A piercing sound chimes through the air, like a dog whistle, but louder. It hurts like a bitch. What the hell is that? I look toward the metal bars, but I don't see the men. Isabelle stops shuddering, screaming, and yanking her hair. She's calm and peaceful on the ground with her eyes wide open. I don't know if she's conscious. What I do know is I can't cover my fucking ears because of these cuffs.

  The sound is slicing down my spine, hitting every single nerve ending in my body. It's like getting stabbed with a thousand knives at the same time.

  "What the hell is going on?" one of the men yells.

  "Can you hear me?" I ask Isabelle, gritting through the words.

  She doesn't move. She doesn't blink. Is she fucking dead?

  I drop down to my knees from the weakness shattering through my muscles. I've studied the theory of high pitched ultrasonic sounds deranging nerves in the human body but haven't experienced it first-hand. It can cause permanent damage and psychosis.

  The lights go on outside of the cell, and it's all stone wall and brick surrounding the area we're in. There are three men total, all holding their ears, hunched over.

  "Tell her to shut it off," a fourth man turns the corner. His mouth is muffled by the black material covering his face, but he seems unaffected by the sound torturing the rest of us.

  "This isn't her, you fuck," I yell, though I can hardly hear my own voice now.

  The cell door opens, and the new guy stalks forward, heading for Isabelle. I try to push myself to my feet fast enough to stand in front of her, but my muscles are like putty. He grabs her by the back of her head and pulls her up to her feet. He's tearing at her hair, pulling it out of the style she spent an hour fixing it into before dinner last night, which seems like days ago at this point.

  From the corner of my eye, I've noticed two of the three men have gone unconscious, and I'm probably not far behind. The third is vomiting in the corner, groaning with pain.

  "Shut it off," the man says to her. "Now, Isabelle. Don’t go thinking I didn’t figure out what the fucking hippie bracelet was you’ve been wearing day and night. I felt the wires beneath it earlier when I touched it. Just as I had assumed. It’s your cute little version of pepper spray, right?”

  At first, I’m confused by what he’s saying, but the way he says her name does something to me. It strikes a different nerve, one that burns.

  "You have to be fucking kidding me," I exhale through the nearly inaudible whisper I'm capable of.

  "I'll end him right now, Isabelle. Shut it off."

  With a trembling arm, she reaches to her wrist and pinches the bracelet in the center, making the sound stop suddenly. I try to hold my focus on what's going on around me, but everything is spinning and vibrating.

  He squats down in front of her and holds his hand under her chin. "Do you know how badly I want this to be over?" he asks her. "What's it been now? Three years since you started this research with Phillips?” He turns to look at her, waiting for an answer. "I don't know about you, but I'm done with the chase.”

  "You know nothing about me,” she says. Fear is obviously trickling through her, but she’s doing her best to mask it with her monotone way of speaking.

  "Fine." He pulls a rifle out from behind him—the one I bought him. It's pointed at my head. "Last chance, Isabelle.” I hear the click as he cocks his rifle.

  29

  Harley

  I should have known. I should have figured it out. How could I let him of all people by me? I let him into my head. Axel must have known. This was all just another weave of their web.

  "I shouldn’t have believed a word either of you said,” I tell Everett. "You knew what a starving person would do to find food, and you used my weakness against me. You’re disgusting human beings.”

  "Life isn't always what you think," he says.

  "You two were after me the whole time,” I say again. I tried to push those thoughts away so many times, debating between food, shelter and my freedom, but the necessities kept winning my thoughts over. They fooled me, though that doesn't explain why Axel has been beaten to a pulp, but nothing is surprising at the moment.

  "No," Axel says. "We weren't."

  Everett laughs, but he's still holding the gun up to Axel's head. "Put the gun down, Everett. Don't you think that's taking things a little far just to claim the win? He's your closest friend. You expect me to believe you'd kill him for some stupid information you probably wouldn't know how to use?"

  Axel is looking at me with shock, which is all for show. It has to be.

  "Look, I don't know the code, okay?” I say. "Kill me. Kill him. I don't care anymore. Whatever you're going to do, just do it already. I'm tired of this shit."

  "Bro, I'm sorry," Everett says. "This isn’t what I wanted. I swear to you.”

  "Of all people … " Axel says. "I thought we were brothers.”

  "You two can quit it with the act. I'm not dumb," I tell them.

  "Brothers?” Everett questions. "We were never brothers. We were both stuck in the same foster house, but I was only there as a method to obtain information for research. I have parents, you know that? I have fucking parents. My father made my mother into a bobblehead who stares out a goddamn window all day from a hospital. When she was no longer useful to him, he used me as a scientific tool from the time I was old enough to follow his demands and threats. Your parents might be dead, Ax, but you would have never considered that you were the luckier of the two of us, so I just let you think my parents were dead because they might as well be.”

  Axel's eyes are full rage as he holds his focus solely on Everett as if there is a lot he wants to say but will probably leave this earth without speaking a word of it.

  In a matter of seconds, Axel whips his arms around, flipping Everett onto his back, retrieves the gun and pins him to the cement.

  Krav Maga training …

  Axel has the weapon pressed against Everett's head, and my heart stops beating because I truly don't know what either of them is doing or thinking. Everything has been a lie in some form.

  Muffled voices from outside of the cell are growing louder, and I'm sure they're picking themselves up after the ultrasonic waves disabled them. I was hoping it would cause a more permanent fix, but I don't have earplugs, and neither does Axel, despite not knowing whether he's one of them.

  "They're coming," I tell them. I'm not sure what I should be saying or not saying now. All I know is, I haven't given up any information, and they have no way of knowing how to extract it.

  "Axel,” Everett says through choppy breaths. "Do it. Please. You’ll be doing me a favor. Get Isabelle out of here—away from my old man. Get her away from everyone.”

  "How could you lie to me all this time?” Axel hisses. "Your old man? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Everett chokes. "I was mentally wired to be who I am. You don’t get it, Axel. If you don’t kill me, those men out there will. I’m not one of them, okay? I came after you two—followed their orders, and I’m playing by their rules so we don’t all get killed. One of us is giving them what they want, or we’ll all be dead. Everett reaches his hand over to Axel’s and hands him something inconspicuously. "Do what you have to—get rid of this—and … it’s time for our plan, Ax. Do it now. Please.” I don’t know what he’s talking ab
out, and I don’t see how Axel would believe anything coming out of his mouth. I don’t know what the hell to believe right now.

  "Everett,” Axel growls.

  "Do it, Axel. Now,” Everett seethes.

  With my sights set on the other side of the cell door, a groan bellows quietly, followed by a firing blast that reverberates through each one of my muscles. Life suddenly pauses, and everything around me is moving in slow motion as I try and glance back over to Axel and Everett.

  It takes a long minute to evaluate what happened, but I spot a trail of blood dripping onto the cement floor, rolling off Everett’s shoulder. Axel shot him. "I never thought for even a moment I couldn't trust you. Never. All this time, you've been playing for the other side," Axel says through guttural pain and grief. "The plan wasn’t meant for this situation,” Axel says. "This fucking hurts, man. You were my friend, my only fucking friend. We may not have been blood brothers, but you were my only family. Jesus.” Axel sounds as if he’s on the verge of breaking down, and it’s tearing at my heart. Even being as unsure as I am, I know the sound of real internal pain, and a person can only fake that so much.