Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2)

by Victoria Renteria

  Colonel Parker’s reply is instant. “You better damn well believe I’ll be there every step of the way, Captain. You and your team couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

  Colonel Black shakes his head, protesting fiercely, “A word, Kyle.”

  The scathing look Colonel Kyle Parker shoots his friend is one so scorching that I’m damn sure if it was anyone else other than Colonel Charles Black they’d have cowered in fear, tucking and running as fast as they could. However, Colonel Charles Black isn’t one to back down, and that man has a reputation for having balls of steel. Although, at this moment, I don’t envy him going up against Kylee’s dad because I’m pretty damned sure the anger and tension rolling off that man alone could kill a person.

  “Not now.” His voice is firm.

  “A word in the other room. It won’t take but a moment.” Colonel Black’s tone leaves no room for argument.

  Nodding, Colonel Parker turns his attention back to us before saying, “We’re going to take a short break. Grab some coffee and we’ll resume in a few minutes.” Turning, he marches out the door with Colonel Black hot on his trail. Shutting the door behind them, it’s not long before their booming voices carry from the room next door into ours.

  “Dammit, Kyle. You need to stay back and let Delta do their job,” Colonel Black protests fiercely.

  “Don’t start with me, Charles.”

  “See reason, Kyle. They’d love nothing more than to get their hands on you and try to torture information out of you.”

  A deep, dark laugh rumbles from Colonel Parker’s lips. “As if they could break me. You know I’d die first. But nothing . . . and I repeat nothing will keep me from bringing her back safely.”

  “Goddammit, Kyle! She means just as much to me as she does to you. I’ve watched that little girl grow up from a tiny little thing into an amazing woman. You’ve got to be smart about this, dammit.”

  My gut clenches hearing the two friends go at each other, arguing over my Goddess. It’s clear from the interaction that this friendship goes deeper than the two let on. Fuck, it’s killing me not being able to fix this right away. Standing, I start pacing the room while the two Colonels go at each other, figuring their shit out. A few more moments pass with low, menacing rumbles from the other side of the wall before the door is thrown open to the briefing room. Colonel Black angrily marches in with Colonel Parker trailing closely behind, a smug grin fixed upon his face.

  Muttering under his breath, Colonel Black turns, leveling me with his dark gaze. “Don’t fuck this up. There’s a lot riding on this mission, Captain.” Cutting his eyes back to his friend momentarily, he gruffly says, “You know what you have to do. Find her, bring everyone home safely.”

  If only he knew how true that was. So much is riding on the success of this mission. This team, my team, could and would extract her safely. It’s what we do. We just have to find her first. Acknowledging the Colonel with a nod, I respond, “Yes, sir, understood.”

  Colonel Black claps his friend on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. Keeping eye contact, they both nod before breaking away, the tension between the two draining. Darting his gaze back to the rest of the room, the commander we all know is swiftly put back into place. Authority laces each word as he commands, “Keep me apprised at all times.” Squeezing his friend’s shoulder one final, time he turns on his heel, exiting the room.

  The beat of my heart thrums in my chest as anticipation coils, wrapping itself around me like a snake ready to strike. Angling my body toward the table, I face my team, determination inscribed in every line, crevice, and shadow on my face. Speaking low, each word is clear and unambiguous as I say, “All right, boys, we’ve got a job to do. Let’s find our girl and bring her home.”

  Turning all attention to the Colonel, my voice is just above a growl when I say, “Sir, we’re gonna need everything you have on Sang-hyun.”

  Anticipation shines brightly in his eyes as he replies, “I thought you’d never ask.” Reaching down into a briefcase I hadn’t noticed before, he grabs a file that has to be every bit of four inches thick. Passing around copies, he looks at each of us and states, “Let’s get to work.”

  Striding back to the chair, I seat myself and grab hold of the thick file. As if we’re mentally connected, my thoughts send a final message to my Goddess before delving into the mass of papers in front of me. “Be strong. I’m coming for you, Goddess. I’m coming for you.”

  FLINGING MY EYES OPEN, I frantically search the room for the offending wetness. Penetrating cold spreads throughout my body, seeping into every pore. Standing before me in all of his menacing glory is the man from the basement. Sneering, he strides forward, eating up the space between us with several large steps. The ferociousness of his grin causes goose bumps to rise along my already chilled skin.

  “I’m so glad you are able to join us, Agassi.”

  Opening my mouth, I snap it shut immediately as flames shoot up the back of my throat, engulfing me in raw pain. Unable to abstain from looking around the room, my eyes begin taking in my surroundings. At some point, they’ve moved me back into the dingy basement with no windows and only one door. The bulb on the cord in the center of the room steadily sways like a pendulum in a clock. In the middle of the floor sits a large circular drain, stained in varying shades of dark gray and rust.

  Staring at the colors, my stomach lurches, twisting and turning as poisonous thoughts try to leech their way into my subconscious. It’s blatantly obvious what it is. There’s no need to spell it out. Rolling my neck to the side, I let my eyes fall to the walls, noticing the chains and tools decorating the space. A small gasp catches in my throat. Raw, excruciating pain expands, sending jolts through my esophagus as it contracts from the involuntary gasp. Slowly breathing in and out through my nose, I glare at the offensive objects one by one as hot tears begin sliding down my cheeks.

  The wall directly in front of me displays a shrine of sorts . . . an array of tools from the Spanish Inquisition. Biting down on my bottom lip, my eyes rake over the Iron Spider, better known as the “Breast Ripper”. A tool made of solid iron, that when heated, is used to literally rip the breasts off women. Staring at the horrid torture device, my tears begin streaming faster. My eyes slide to the next horrific device . . . the lead sprinkler.

  A horrendous device indeed. It was used to shower its victims with boiling water, tar, or even . . . lead. As I continue to stare at the wall, the knot in my stomach tightens. In all of my time as a teacher, I’ve never once doubted my career choice . . . until this very moment. However, right now, I find myself wishing I’d chosen an entirely different path. The phrase “ignorance is bliss” immediately comes to mind. For the first time in my life, I wish I wasn’t a teacher and hadn’t minored in history.

  I’d love nothing more than to be completely unenlightened as to what each and every one of these egregious devices are. My eyes once again slide across the wall, continuing their trek around the room and land on the rack. Who in the hell actually owns a rack? My mother. Of course she owns a damn rack. Why wouldn’t she . . . That’s my luck.

  Looking up at the ceiling, I notice the large hooks embedded with chains attached. Shackles line the walls and a small table with surgical instruments sits off to the side. No, not surgical instruments, knives of all different sizes. Letting my head fall forward, my chin rests on my chest as my tears continue to fall. A painful tightness sets in my shoulders. Rolling them, I try to alleviate some of the pressure when I notice my arms are tied behind my back, and my knees and ankles are bound together as well.

  Wiggling, I try to get the ropes loose. Firm hands painfully latch onto my shoulders. Tsking, the henchman moves closer, his voice low and menacing. “I would not do that if I were you, Agassi.”

  Immediately, my body goes rigid in the chair. His voice holds a dangerous unspoken promise. Something tells me he wants me to continue struggling. An overwhelming urge to vomit arises, one that I’m unable to quash. Turni
ng my head to the right, acid works its way up my esophagus, pitching and rolling until I’m spewing over the side of the chair.

  Growling, he grasps my hair tightly, thrusting me forward while I continue to empty my stomach. Running his free hand down the side of my face, he coos in my ear, “There, there now, Agassi. I’ll take care of you.”

  With my stomach churning for an entirely different reason now, I rasp out, “Get your damn hands off of me.”

  Firming his hold in my hair, he pulls back, straightening me in the chair. Rumbling, his menacing laughter shakes his body, vibrating both of us as his hot breath levitates over my ear.

  “You will be so fun to break. I can’t wait to sink deep inside you.”

  The stench of his breath hits my nostrils. Gagging, I force myself to swallow back the bile trying to work its way up yet again. Focusing all of my energy, I begin taking breaths through my mouth. Gritting my teeth, I’m barely able to grind out a response.

  “Over my dead body.”

  Tossing his head back, he bellows loudly. “That can always be arranged, Agassi . . . and I do love a challenge.” Tipping his head in slightly, he inhales deeply, closing his eyes and groaning. Upon opening them, he quickly closes the distance, smashing his lips to mine. Keeping my lips sealed, I try pulling my head back, but his hand is firmly locked in my hair, holding me in place. His tongue snakes out of his mouth, running along the seam of my lips, seeking entrance.

  My eyes grow wide in horror as I pull back, fighting to put an end to the unwanted affection. Gripping my hair, he wrenches back as tiny pinpricks of pain careen through the base of my skull, causing me to gasp and open my mouth to him. Thrusting his tongue in, he plunges deeply, seeking, taking what he desires. Blood rushes to my ears as I squirm, trying to fight him off. Holding me tighter, he continues delving into the orifice as if it were a long lost treasure. Panic swells as I realize my desire to gouge his eyes out is nothing but a fantasy since my hands are bound.

  A striking moment of clarity materializes as I run through the arsenal of weapons at my disposal. Leaning forward into his kiss, I sink my teeth into his tongue. He pulls back with a yelp, and I’m immediately rewarded with a meaty fist along the side of my face. Pain bursts across my cheek, pulsating throughout my skull. Blood rapidly begins filling my mouth. Turning my head, I spit, watching crimson pool on the floor next to the drain.

  Laughing, I let my head fall back as I face the furious gaze of my mother’s henchman. With a smile still on my lips, I say, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

  Anger flashes brightly in his eyes as he takes a menacing step toward me. The basement door opens, and the voice of my past floats across the room before he’s able to raise another hand.

  “What are you doing?” The ice in her voice freezes him where he stands.

  Unable to help myself, I remark, “I see you’re here to join the party.”

  Moving briskly, she comes to stand in front of me. Dark eyes narrow into tiny slits as she says, “Remember who you’re talking to, Ttal.”

  Powerless to control my tongue, the words tumble from my mouth without a care as to the danger they may put me in. “Yeah, you’ve said that before. I’m just not really caring at this point. What, you gonna have your guy here try and make out with me some more? Because I’ve gotta say, that was definitely worse than you pouring that shitty water down my throat.”

  Her nostrils flare wide as she turns to glare in the direction of her henchman. “You did what?” she inquires in a deadly voice.

  Shrugging, he smiles and responds, “I’m a man, what can I say?”

  With unexpected speed, she grasps him by the throat and steps into his body. Her melodic voice is barely above a whisper as she utters the words, “If you ever touch her without my permission again, it will be the last thing that you do. Is that understood, Jeong?”

  In a matter of moments, all of the musty air in the dingy basement crackles with tension. Shallow breaths saw in and out, searing my raw lungs. My mind races, searching for answers. Why is she protecting me? It’s not like she cares. She’s torturing me for her own gain.

  The situation is sixty shades of messed up. All she’s ever given me is a lifetime of unfulfilled promises and broken bones. Ragged breaths draw my attention back to the two fighting for dominance at my side. Flexing her fingers, my mother tightens her grip, cutting off the air to her henchman’s throat.

  “I said, is that understood?” she snarls.

  Lowering his eyes, he takes a breath through his nose and gives a rough nod of his head. She releases him with a shove, and he stumbles back a step before righting himself. Hatred and anger shine brightly in his eyes before he levels me with his gaze. His eyes bore into mine for several long moments. A rushed breath leaves my lungs. I’m hardly able to drag in another to replace the one I’ve lost.

  Turmoil. It’s the only way to describe my riotous emotions. Utter turmoil, all because of the glimpse of himself he’s bestowed upon me. One I do not wish for. He’s given me a peek into his barely leashed desire and rage just beneath the surface that are straining to be free. My pulse begins to race, hammering through my veins. He drags in a final breath before hastily turning his icy glare back to my mother.

  “What would you like to do first, Mamasan?”

  “Get the gidung while I have a word with my daughter.”

  An involuntary groan passes my lips as he takes his leave, going to get the wooden poles she requested.

  “Now, now, Ttal. No need to be like that. You can stop this at any time.” Gliding in my direction, my mother runs her delicately manicured fingers down my face. Ice instantly fills my veins.

  Shaking my head, my voice squeaks, as I say, “No.”

  Growling, she shoves away from me, thrusting the chair I’m in back onto two legs. Startled, I scream as the chair is forced down onto four legs again, sending ripples of pain through my joints.

  “Do it.”

  Dragging the gidung behind him, Jeong takes slow, intimidating steps toward me. Every muscle in my body tenses as I await the imminent torture that will no doubt be doled out to me. Taking his time, his eyes rove over my body, lust gleaming with each heated pass. As he approaches me, a feral grin stretches across his face, transforming him from dangerous to deadly. Trying to get as far away from him as possible, I slump down in the chair, scooting as far back as my bound arms and legs will allow me. Coming to a stop directly in front of me, he drags the poles, holding them in the shape of an X before my quivering body.

  Crouching down, he runs his fingers up the lengths of my calves. Prying my shins apart, he takes both wooden poles and inserts them between my legs into an X-formation. Applying pressure, he pushes them so the center of the pole is now in the middle of my shins. Running his hands along the undersides of my calves one final time, he squeezes before standing and peering over his shoulder to my mother. Glancing in my direction, she gives a curt nod before taking a seat on top of the rack in the corner, studying the polish on her nails.

  Jeong’s large hands grasp the inside of each pole. With his gaze firmly fixed on mine, he applies pressure, thrusting outward, scissoring them open. Every muscle in my legs and hips stretch, elongating, pulling taut. Fiery pain rushes through each tendon, incinerating the tissue from within. My chest blazes as the ability to breathe leaves me. It’s impossible to think let alone draw in a breath.

  Licking his lips, he smiles as he stretches me further. A deep cry fizzes, bubbling like the effervescence of sparkling wine, shattering the stillness of the room. Drawing out my suffering, he lingers, applying pressure then backing off. Lightning shoots through the tendons in my shins as he applies pressure one final time. Unable to hold myself up any longer, my body falls forward. Whimpers ring through the room as Jeong pauses his ministrations, giving me a brief respite.

  Coasting across the room, my mother halts before me, brushing strands of matted hair out of my eyes. Slinking away from her touch, I moan, the slight movemen
t jarring my already bruised and battered legs. An unnamable emotion flits across her gaze. Dropping her hand, she quickly slips her blank mask back in place. In the short time I’ve been back with my mother, I’ve seen many sides of her. Most are confusing, yet one remains the same: her ability to turn her emotions off and move on like nothing fazes her.

  It scares the hell out of me the way her dead eyes look right through you as if you aren’t even there. Somewhere in the back of my mind, her comment from earlier nags at me: “We’re not so different, you and I.” One of my deepest, darkest fears is that I will turn out to be like my mother. I’ve spent a majority of my life running from my demons and the shadows of my past only to have them catch up to me.

  What do you do when you have to face your greatest fears? How do you overcome the darkness that’s terrorized you for most of your life?

  My father’s face flashes before me, pulling me from the recesses of my mind, anchoring me in the light. Brilliant blue eyes. Kindness. Love. Each word cements me further in the light tethering me to the strength my father gives me.

  A fluttery feeling spreads through my chest like butterflies in springtime. Purging all negative thoughts, I focus on the light spreading through my veins, warming me from the inside. Taking small breaths through my nose, I ignore the pain in my legs. Mentally, my inner goddess, as Alex likes to call me, is encouraging me to be strong and succeed. With his name passing through my mind, hope flares brightly in my soul. Determined to stay my course and not give in, I tighten my jaw and peer up at her through my lashes.