Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2)

by Victoria Renteria

  Grabbing my arm, he pulls, yanking me to my feet.

  “Come,” he states, matter of fact.

  “W-Where are we going?” I stammer.

  “Your mother wishes to speak with you,” he says, sneering the word mother. The cool air from the doorway batters my skin, the lacy lingerie doing nothing to protect my beat-up exterior.

  My voice is filled with false bravado when I ask, “Can I change? Get a coat or something?” Jeong tosses his head back to the ceiling as his menacing laughter thunders. When his laughter finally subsides, he looks down at me with punishingly cruel eyes.

  White teeth gleam brightly against his dark features. Pitching his voice low and deep, he replies, “No, Agassi. What would be the fun in that?”

  Without another word, he takes long strides, dragging me out the door. Tugging, he pulls against my arms, not caring that I can barely keep up. Sprinting, I’m practically running, my bare feet scraped raw against the rough floor. Finally reaching our destination, he thrusts me through a doorway, shoving me in front of him. Losing my balance, I fall to the floor with a yelp. Unceremoniously, tears begin streaming hastily down my dirty cheeks.

  Blushing, blood rushes to my cheeks, threatening to scald my skin. Mortification sets in, the embarrassment from being treated as if I were worthless and cheap shattering my thoughts. My mother’s cold voice penetrates my humiliation.

  “Stand up, Ttal.”

  Steadying myself, I take several calming breaths. Bracing my arms on the floor, I’m able to bring my weak body up to my hands and knees. Lacing my spine with steel, I inhale another breath and retreat into my mind for a moment.

  “Find your inner strength,” I mutter under my breath.

  I will not bend . . . I will not bow . . . I won’t break . . . I will survive, even if it means I have to shut the world away. Perseverance. That word comes to mind again. Can I persevere? A name floats through my mind like a cloud on a warm summer’s day.

  Alex. Tiny bubbles rise to the surface in my mind, triggering a memory. He once told me there was a fierce woman, a tiger, lying deep inside of me. That she just needed to be unlocked. Digging deep, I frantically search for my inner tigress. Shoving off of the floor, I come to a stand on weak legs. Jeong stands in the doorway, licking his lips, his eyes gradually perusing my body.

  Looking over my shoulder, my mother glares at Jeong. Her voice brusque and to the point, she says, “We will have a guest arriving in a few moments. Show her in straight away.”

  His eyes taper down to slits. Giving a terse nod, he storms out of the room. From the corner of my eye, I take a second to get a glimpse of the room. I’ve never been in this part of the house before. To say it’s not what I was expecting would be an understatement. My mother stands next to a modern four-person dining table, rigidly watching Jeong stomp away in a huff.

  Glancing around the room, the brightly lit kitchen is out of place in the dark, dank, areas of the home that I’ve recently come to know. I’m assuming that’s because she spends most of her time in this room. Cream-colored walls flow throughout the room, brightening up the tiny space. A lengthy oblong window is nestled just above the kitchen sink overlooking a mountainous region in the distance.

  My brow furrows. Where are we? Are we close to Mt. Umyeonsan? No, she wouldn’t have me that close. She isn’t stupid. Dismissing the thought, I allow my eyes to continue their trek along the kitchen. Pale yellow and blue glass mosaic tiles accent the cream-colored walls, creating an intricate pattern along the backsplash of the sink up to the windowsill.

  Maple Shaker style bamboo cabinets line the walls and floors, giving the room a contemporary Asian feeling. The sleek curves and modern design are warm and welcoming compared to the drab, lifeless feeling of the remainder of the house. Granite countertops sparkle in the afternoon light as I stare in wonder at the oddness of the room. It feels so out of place.

  Clearing her throat, my mother walks up behind me, placing a delicate hand on my lower back. Startled, I jump, nearly tumbling forward, losing myself in the process.

  Displeasure is thick in her voice when she drawls, “Stop being so dramatic, Ttal. Have a seat.” She points in the direction of the table. Frozen in place, I stand there for a moment, fear keeping me rooted to the spot. With a small shove, she pushes me toward the table. Stumbling, I take a few steps, righting myself and shuffling toward the table.

  “Good. We have much to discuss,” she says, joining me.

  My stomach rolls, the fight or flight response that’s become my only ray of sunshine kicking in. Darting my eyes toward the door, I swallow loudly.

  Snapping her fingers in front of my face, her voice becomes like granite. “Don’t even think about it.” Gulping, I drop my gaze to the table.

  “Now, as I said, we have much to discuss. There will be someone joining us shortly. Before our guest arrives, I wanted to speak with you alone.” She pauses, remaining silent for several minutes. Mentally, I chant over and over, “I will not look at her. I will not look at her. I will not look at her.” Unable to take the silence any longer, I peek up through my lashes. Patiently, she waits, quietly observing me.

  “I like it when you’re silently obedient.” Her words strike a chord with me. Cold fingers wrap around my heart, making it sluggish and heavy. Dread sits heavily on my chest, creating a strong desire to avoid whatever future she has in store for me. Rocking slightly, I drop my gaze back to the table.

  “Hmmm. I thought you would’ve had something smart to say. Maybe you are remembering your lessons,” she taunts.

  Frustration bashes my already frayed emotions, striking them repeatedly. I want nothing more than to unleash a slew of unlady like retorts. But to what avail? All it will get me is her anger and another knife in my side. No, I think I’d rather let my frustration pummel away at my already frayed emotions. It’s the less painful route.

  “Very well.” She sits back, still eyeing me quizzically. After a moment of surveying me, she speaks. “Have you made your decision?”

  I shake my head. Clutching the side of the chair, my palms begin to sweat as I await her usual round of anger. I wait . . . and wait . . . and wait some more. Several moments pass and nothing. She sits, poised quietly on the edge of her seat. Fear tightens my shoulders as the hair on the nape of my neck rises.

  Angry, pissed of Mom I can deal with. Reserved, quiet Mom . . . I’m fearing for my damn life right this second. Quaking. In. The. Fucking. Chair. Glancing at the door, I’m contemplating my chances of bolting when she finally speaks. The tenor of her voice fills my veins with ice, plunging me into a shiver-induced frenzy.

  Quietly, she fervently whispers, “As you wish.”

  Inhaling deeply, her voice holds a note of pain as she murmurs, “Remember, Ttal, when this is over, I always gave you a choice.” Doing a double take, I blink several times. Who is this woman? Surely, she must have fallen and hit her head. Voices float through the hall toward the kitchen. My mother’s cold mask slips back into place.

  Jeong fills the doorway with his massive body, blocking the guest. With a roll of her eyes, my mother snaps, “Well!”

  Shifting, he stands straighter, tensing his hands into fists. “Your guest has arrived,” he says through gritted teeth.

  A cold, hard smile spreads on her painted lips. Meeting Jeong’s eyes, her voice drips with derision as she says, “Well, show her in, why don’t you.” Jeong’s jaw tenses as he moves out of the way, revealing my mother’s guest.

  My mouth falls open, a shocked gasp echoing around the kitchen. A sly smile has replaced my mother’s coldness. Turning her gaze on me, she studies my reaction. The intensity and heat of her gaze feel like they are boring into my very essence. Sabrina waddles to the table, a smug grin firmly affixed on her face. Slinging her bag on the back of the chair, she takes a seat next to me.

  “Well, I would say it’s nice to see you again, but we both know that would be a lie,” she sneers.

  Heat flushes through my body as a
nger, irritation, frustration, and a myriad of other emotions bubble up to the surface. Snapping my mouth shut, I scoot my chair away from Sabrina, unsure if I can actually keep from knocking the snarky bitch out. Looking at my mother, I snap, “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  “Do not take that tone with me, Ttal,” she fires back.

  “Oh no, you don’t get to do that. Not now. I want answers.” My lip curls back, baring my teeth in a snarl. I’m too far-gone, riled up from seeing the heinous witch next to me.

  “You may not like the answers you receive,” my mother calmly states. Unsure of how to reply, I sit sulking with my arms across my chest.

  “As you wish,” she replies in that calm tone once more. Nodding, she gestures for Sabrina to speak. Faltering, I look incredulously to my mother. In return, she gives me a pointed look, telling me to pay attention to the woman I dislike immensely sitting next to me.

  A sickly sweet smile is on Sabrina’s face as she pulls a folder from her bag, placing it on the table in front of her. Still smiling that nauseating smile, she says, “Before I show you these”—she taps the folder with her red nails—“I need you to understand my side of the story.” I huff in exasperation. Ignoring my reaction, she continues as if I don’t exist.

  “When Alexander and I initially split up, I thought it was just another one of his tantrums. We do this, you know . . . argue, he leaves, comes back. It’s a little game we play.” She pauses, taking in a noisy breath.

  My insides flip a little at the callous way she speaks of her relationship with Alex. I don’t understand how someone could be so dismissive of something so incredible. Her whiny voice interrupts my mental teardown of her relationship . . . or lack thereof.

  “Now, fast forward quite some time to him being here in Korea. Imagine my surprise when I come here to see him, trying to work things out, only to find him frolicking around Seoul with the likes of you.” Her voice is full of disgust.

  My eyes grow wide. Peering at my mother from the corner of my eye, I catch her watching me. Surprise fills me that she has allowed Sabrina to degrade me. It’s not something she’d usually stand for, even if her moral compass is severely jacked up.

  Daintily, Sabrina clears her throat. “Now, I was distraught, as you might imagine. Especially in my condition.” Internally, I roll my eyes. The gall of this woman. It isn’t even his child. Does she even know who the father is?

  Pulling a tissue from her purse, she dabs her eyes. Her voice warbles slightly as she says, “It was late, pitch black outside. I’d just left the apartment building. I should have paid better attention to my surroundings. But you have to understand that I really was upset at that moment. I didn’t even know what was happening until it was too late. Do you know what it’s like? That feeling when you don’t know if you’re going to live to see another day?”

  For a brief moment, the carefully concealed veil that Sabrina wears lowers, allowing me a glimpse of the woman beneath the facade. Vulnerable, she’s someone entirely new. I can see the appeal that she once had to Alex, the beauty beneath the beast. That quiet beauty desperately seeking love and the protection of a strong man. All of the moisture is siphoned from my mouth. Is that why he was drawn to me? Am I like Sabrina? Desperately in need of love and protection?

  An empty feeling grows in my bowels. Nervousness unsettles me, pecking away at my confidence. Inwardly, I give my inner goddess a bitch slap. I will not let this bitch make me second-guess myself.

  Dramatically, Sabrina sniffles and gives me big doe eyes. “Yes, well, I guess you have some inkling. When that big oaf grabbed me, all I kept thinking was: I am done for. I’d never see my child come into this world, do all of those things a mother gets to do for the first time. And most of all, I wanted to do them with Alex.” She pauses, blowing her nose into the tissue.

  My stomach heaves at her words. Giving me a tentative smile, she pushes on. “They shoved this foul-smelling cloth over my face, and no matter how hard I fought, I couldn’t get away. I kicked, screamed, I even bit one.” She lets out a little giggle.

  “Then the darkness came. It was dreadful. Waking up alone, scared, in a foreign country, bound to a chair, unsure whether I’d live to see another day.” Huh. Sounds kind of familiar, I think to myself.

  “Then, they started with the questions. It went on and on for what seemed like days. Drilling me, over and over again. I was a mess, in shambles, you see. They threatened to cut the very child I’m carrying from my stomach. Killing my unborn son before my eyes.” Her breath hitches as tears begin streaming violently down her face.

  My heart twists, slamming against the walls of my chest. How could someone be so cruel? My mother’s continued silence unnerves me. Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I see the cunning smile on her face. A tingling begins in my torso, spreading through my limbs. Biting my lip, I fight the urge to groan.

  Sabrina places the used tissue on the table before retrieving a fresh one. A hint of anger laces her voice when she’s able to speak again. “All of that time wasted, spent threatening the life of my child.” Pausing, she shakes her head and inhales deeply. A treacherous smile spreads across her face, transforming her from vulnerable to conniving.

  Doing a double take, I blink several times, trying to get a grip on the emotional flip Sabrina just pulled. It’s like she flipped a switch and went from demure to bitch in 0.2 seconds. Lightheaded from lack of oxygen, I inhale, cursing myself for letting her get to me yet again.

  Her voice is full of smug satisfaction when she says, “All of that hullabaloo could have been avoided had they just told me from the get-go what they wanted . . .”

  Tired of her theatrics, I interrupt her. “Will you get to the point already?” I snap.

  “Mmmm. Is someone feeling a bit touchy?” she asks in that irritatingly smug tone.

  Growling, I try to move as my mother says, “Get to it.”

  Releasing an exasperated sigh, she says, “Fine. You always like to spoil my fun. Anywho, had they just told me from the beginning they wanted me to get between you and Alex, I’d have done it. I told them as much,” she states, matter of fact.

  Clenching my teeth painfully, I ask, “Who?” Lifting a slender finger, she points directly to my mother. All of the air rushes from my lungs. I’m not really sure why I’m surprised. I should have come to expect it from her. Sabrina’s fingers grip my forearm, causing me to flinch away.

  My voice is firm as I say, “Do not touch me.”

  Tsking, she replies, “Goodness, I’m not the enemy, dear. Besides, you messed with my man, remember?” Standing, she thrusts the folder toward me.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “Proof,” she replies.

  “Proof?” I ask.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Proof of what?” I snap, my patience wearing thin.

  “That Alex and I are officially back together.”

  “I-I don’t believe you,” I whisper.

  “Which is why I brought those.” She points to the folder. Walking to the door, she stops, peering smugly from over her shoulder, she taunts, “Those are dated, as you will no doubt see. You will also see from the very detailed images that I have won. So, I expect you to leave my man alone from now on.” Without another word, she exits the room.

  Sitting in stunned silence, I glare at the offensive folder, afraid of what it may contain. Reaching across the table, my mother lightly rests her hand atop of mine. Pulling my hand away abruptly, I glower at her.

  “This is all your fault,” I say, hurt and anger lacing my tone.

  Scoffing, she replies, “It is hardly my fault. I only put the wheels in motion.” Pointing to the folder, she says in a harsh tone, “Now open it.”

  Swallowing audibly, my fingers tremble as I open the folder. Gasping, every breath is taken away with the contents in front of me. It can’t be. Please don’t let it be true. The tingling in my chest worsens with the sluggish beat of my heart. The first image blurs as hot
tears pool in my eyes. Blinking the tears away, the image comes into focus. Alex and Sabrina are at a party. He looks incredible in his tuxedo. An older couple joins them in the first picture. His arm is casually thrown across her waist. Squeezing my eyes closed, I inhale deeply. The churning in my belly worsens, acid threatening to make its way up. I don’t know if I can stomach anymore.

  “Open your eyes, Ttal.” My mother’s sharp voice cuts through my pain.

  Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes tighter.

  “Now!” she yells. Instinctively, I obey her request.

  “Do not make me repeat myself, Ttal,” she scolds.

  Silently tears stream down my cheeks as I flip the image over. A tattered sob is torn from my throat as I peer down at the image. Alex and Sabrina are wrapped in a lover’s embrace. Sabrina gazes lovingly up at him while he smiles broadly at the camera. Just like a couple in love should do. The small fissure that’s taken up residence in my heart splits, altering itself into a deep canyon, one that may never be filled again. Choking back the quiet sobs, I shakily grasp the picture then flip to the final image. A weight lands on my chest as my heart breaks into a million pieces. Dizziness swarms, filling my head as each fractured piece of my future comes crashing to a halt. The photographer captured it perfectly. It’s brilliant, really. A gorgeous shot.

  My stomach lurches, the contents rapidly rising into my throat. Blinking away my tears, I glance at the photograph again. Sabrina is wrapped around Alex seductively, his hands fisted against her waist, her lips pressed against his. Her face is contorted into an expression of pure rapture. The thought of their kiss is the final straw. It’s too much to bear. The nausea I’d been fighting so hard to hold back makes a violent entrance.

  Rushing to the sink, I make it in enough time to expel the contents of my stomach. So many thoughts travel in my mind, whirling, spinning out of control. As I continue to retch in the sink, one thought continuously rises to the surface: I’m officially broken. I am not strong enough.