Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2)

by Victoria Renteria

  Sitting back on my haunches, I give him room to work. Watching Noah attend to him gives me a newfound respect for the man. Not just the quick efficiency in which he’s treating his injuries, but the gentle way in which he’s handling him with compassion and care. It’s a new side to Noah that I’ve not experienced before. Then again, we haven’t really had an injury this extensive in . . . well, in ever. We are the best for a reason.

  Noah sits back, clearing his throat. “Okay, he’s pretty bruised up. Coop hit his head pretty hard. He definitely has a concussion, hence the bleeding ears. The force of the blast could have possibly ruptured his eardrums. We honestly won’t know until we get it checked out. We also need to make sure there isn’t anything else going on like internal bleeding. The tire hit him on the side. It doesn’t look like it cracked any ribs or anything. He’s going to have one big ass bruise, though. To make a long story short, he’s going to hurt like a motherfucker. Coop’s gonna be a walking eggplant for a little bit. We need to get him back and have him checked out. I hate to say this, Alpha, but it looks like this was a setup.”

  Noah’s words sink in as that knot in my stomach grows like a cancer spreading through my body. Fuck. Things just keep getting worse. Nodding, I stand up. Colonel Parker comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. Squeezing lightly, he says, “From what I can tell, it was an IED set on a delay that was buried between the forklift and the wall. It looks like we triggered it when we entered the door.”

  Damn, Cooper just happened to choose the wrong place for cover. Wrong place, wrong time. Thankfully, none of his injuries seem life threatening . . . But at this point, I guess it’s still too early to tell. Glancing down at Cooper, I swallow hard, trying to reel in my emotions. After several attempts, I’m finally able to look at the team and say, “All right, load up. We need to get Cooper medical attention and figure out what the hell just happened.”

  That sensation that I’m missing something brushes against me. Tossing my head back to the ceiling to blow out a breath is when it happens. I see them. Every. Single. One. All along the wall above the door we entered are black and white 8x10s photographs of my Goddess. Bound. Naked . . . and being tortured.

  “GET UP.” MY MOTHER NUDGES me with the corner of her boot. Scrubbing my hands over my eyes, I blink a few times. When did someone decide to pour a bucket of sand into my eye sockets? Ignoring her, I roll over, the contents of my stomach violently protesting each of my movements.

  “I said get up. You’re coming with me.”

  “No,” I moan.

  “Now,” she screeches.

  “I’m still not feeling well. The water you have here is awful. You’ve not exactly been accommodating, either,” I say, pointing to the gashes in my abdomen. Having nothing left to lose, I just want to be left alone to wallow in my self-pity.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, she points to me with her index finger. In a shrill voice, she demands, “You will get up right this second, or I will make you get up . . . and make no mistake about it, Ttal, if I have to make you get up, it will not be pleasant.”

  Resigning, I surrender to fate’s cruel plans. Grunting, I mumble, “Fine.”

  I feel like a decrepit old woman trying to come to a stand. A haggard old lady that’s feeble, fragile, and no longer able to take care of herself. Wobbly and unstable legs allow me to tower over the mini torpedo that terrorizes me daily. How is it that such evil can fit in something so fun-sized? Ha! Fun-sized.

  “What is so funny?” She questions. Damn. Did I laugh out loud? I really need to get better control of my thoughts.

  “Nothing,” I say, giving my head a little shake.

  “Come with me.” Without so much as another word, she turns, leaving the room. The other girls silently watch with fear in their eyes . . . except Nari. Something’s there underneath the carefully constructed mask, some unnamed emotion.

  “Ttal.” My mother’s apical voice cuts through me like a knife.

  Hurrying out the door, I follow her down the long, narrow hallway. Drawing my bottom lip into my mouth, I nibble, sinking my teeth deeper with each new step taken. Searing pain radiates from my toes, through my bruised and battered feet, up my calves into my legs. By the time we come to a stop in front of a small wooden door, my breaths are coming in short waves. Eyeing me critically, she points to the heavy wooden door with her slender finger.

  “Inside, now.”

  Tentatively, I take a step forward. With trembling hands, I grasp the handle of the door. After several unsuccessful tries to twist the handle, my mother exasperatedly pushes me out of the way and exclaims, “Will you get on with it already!” Swinging the door open wide, it crashes into the offending drywall with a loud clunk.

  Gasping, my mouth falls open, my eyes bulging as I stare in dismay. What in the ever-loving hell? This makes no damn sense. Placing her diminutive hands on my back, she gives me a nudge, pushing me through the door. With an about-face, I’m left staring at her petite frame in the bathroom doorway. Her keen gaze drops to a bag on the edge of the sink.

  My eyebrows quirk up in response. Adjusting her clothing, she tries to hide her aggravation. Clearly back in control, she points to the bag, her tone condescending when she states, “I trust that with you being a teacher and all, I will not have to read the directions to you. I’ll be back in five minutes. You know what to do.”

  She turns, hesitating before looking over her shoulder and saying, “Do not do anything stupid, my dear. It wouldn’t be in your best interest.”

  With that, she turns, closing the door. The lock clicks from the other side. What is it with these places having locks on the outside? Do they like specialize in these things over here? Inhaling deeply, I wipe my hands on the flimsy lingerie and reach for the plastic bag.

  “Holy. Fucking. Mother. Of. Pearl,” I whisper.

  Good grief, I’m starting to sound like Emma now. The thoughts whirling in my head trail off as I glare at the bag. The urge to jump out the window and run far . . . far away charges me. Why? I don’t understand why. Pregnancy?

  I’m lightheaded, reeling with the possibility the tiny box offers. Is it possible . . . is there even a chance? No, I mean, yes, we had sex, but we used protection . . . didn’t we? Searching the recesses of my mind, I look for clues as to why she would want me to take a pregnancy test. I’ve been sick the last few days, yes, but she’s sliced me open, beaten me, and poured bacteria infested water down my throat.

  The longer I ponder the circumstances, the angrier I get.

  “This is stupid,” I growl. What purpose does this serve?

  “UGH!” Frustrated, I yell into the empty bathroom.

  Sinking to the floor, I wrap my hands around my knees, hugging them to my chest. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. Try as I might, I know deep down I’m going to have to do what she wants. She will come back here, and if I haven’t taken the thing, she’ll force me to do it. Even if that means she holds it while I pee. Yeah, so not happening.

  This is ridiculous. I’m not pregnant. Well, there’s only one way to prove it. Standing, I apprehensively approach the little box. Even in another language, the damn thing looks the same. Chewing my fingernail, I stare at the offensive little box some more.

  “Screw it, Kylee. Just do it already,” I mutter.

  Reaching for the box, I tear it open, yanking out the little stick. Angrily, I urinate on the test, replace the cap, and pace the confines of the small space. I should be numb, unresponsive, pissed off. None of those things can describe the reaction, emotion, the level of consciousness I’m achieving this very moment. Delving into the box, I grab the second test, ensuring the results are accurate. It doesn’t even take the three minutes.

  Two solid lines float across the little stick. How is this possible? Well, I know how it’s possible, but . . . I swear we used protection. Actually, I can’t say for certain that we did that last time. My fingers inch down toward my stomach where the result of my love for Alex grows. The breath
in my lungs catches, wariness entering as I wonder what my mother has planned.

  Tears scorch my eyelids, begging for release. The door bursts open. Yelping, I jump back, pushing closer to the wall.

  “Well?” my mother demands. Her eyes wander over to the sink where the two tests lay out in the open. She glides to the sink, taking her time, pausing to look down at the tests.

  Turning, her smile is genuine as she says, “Very good, Ttal. You have made me proud.”

  Proud? Grimacing, my eyes narrow in her direction as I wait for her to explain. Picking up on my obvious confusion, her pleased expression grows.

  Her tone is smug, full of supreme confidence and satisfaction when she clarifies, “Don’t you see what this means?”

  Giving my head a little shake, I wait with bated breath for her to continue. Dread slowly inches its way into my veins like an inky black sludge.

  “This means, my dear, that I will have an heir.” She pauses, looking me straight in the eye as she says with determination, “With or without you.”

  “W-What do you mean?” I stammer.

  “Exactly what I said,” she snaps. Closing her eyes, she rubs the bridge of her nose for a second before opening them and leveling me with her stare.

  “You will either join me or you will not. Either way, that child will be mine. I will raise him or her in the ways of this family, and that child will grow up to be one of the five most powerful crime lords in the Kkangpae. You can either choose to be a part of it and rule until the child comes of age or not. It is now of no consequence to me. You’re now just the incubator.” She waves a hand dismissively.

  My heart plummets into my stomach. How can I let my child grow up with this woman, let alone in this environment? Unable to help myself, I ask the question I’m terrified I already know the answer to. “W-What happens if I choose not to?” My voice wavers.

  A bone-chilling smile sweeps across her face. Her tone is full of malice as she replies, “Then you will be dealt with as is anyone who defies me. I’m sure I don’t have to go into the nasty little details, daughter . . . You can put two and two together. Now come, let’s get you back to that room. There is much to be done so that I can prepare for my grandchild . . . or child, depending on how you choose.”

  Her malevolent grin sends fire shooting through my veins. It takes every bit of restraint I have not to claw her eyes out. The only thing holding me back is the thought of my unborn child. That perfect mixture of Alex and myself. Those tiny violet eyes growing inside of me. Of course I won’t abandon you to her. I will protect you with my own life if need be.

  It’s what a good mother does, something she knows absolutely nothing about. Returning to the room, she stalls, taking extra time unlocking the door.

  Her voice is pitched low, and I have to strain to hear her. “Make the right decision. It would be a shame to have to kill my own daughter. But, I will do it.”

  Unlocking the door, she steps aside, allowing me to enter. The door closes with a click and is quickly locked behind me. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slump to the floor, my head making an audible thunk against the wood. Four pairs of hands gently caress my arms, legs, and torso, searching for any sign of injury.

  Opening my eyes, I smile gently. “It’s all right. She didn’t harm me.” My voice quavers with unshed tears. Emotion is thick in my throat, making it difficult to speak.

  “What happened?” Nari asks, eyeing me quizzically.

  “Umm.” I hesitate for a moment.

  “It’s all right. Don’t be afraid,” Key encourages. My heart swells a little with affection for these four women. Maybe, if I’m in that position, I can do something with it? Inwardly, I shake my head. I wouldn’t even know what to do.

  “S-She made me take a pregnancy test.” All four women collectively gasp.

  Nari is the first to speak, her sharp-witted gaze not missing a thing. “What did it say?” Her voice holds a note of speculation.

  “W-Well, i-it said I was pregnant.” My mouth is dry, my tongue thick, making me trip over my words.

  Key, Hye, and Are gasp, expressions of shock and unease blotting their faces. Nari watches me with a reserved expression that quickly morphs to one of keen determination. Her voice changes to one she’s never used before, full of commanding authority with the ability to eloquently articulate a person’s needs.

  “How did your mother react to you being pregnant?” she questions.

  Hoisting an eyebrow in her direction, I examine her closely. I expected the question . . . although, the manner in which it was presented, not so much. It was as if she was interrogating a suspect rather than asking me a general question.

  Keeping my eyes firmly fixed on her, I quietly ask, “Why?”

  Shrugging, she purses her lips, chewing on the inside of her cheek before she answers, “She isn’t exactly the nurturing type. So, I’m assuming she had a rather untraditional reaction, so to speak.”

  Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I contemplate her answer. On the outside looking in, it seems normal. But . . . I’m not on the outside, and something didn’t seem right with that answer. Goosebumps rise on my arms, sending shivers racing along my skin. Maybe it’s a sign? Thoughts drift into my mind of a little violet-eyed infant cradled in my arms. A child that’s a mixture of both Alex and myself.

  The small seed of affection that was planted the moment I’d found out about this pregnancy spreads, growing exponentially. The vision of our child increasing with each beat of my heart. In my mind, I can see Alex as clear as day, his tall, muscular frame leaning against the wall, waiting for me. Silken strands of deep ebony hair, just long enough to run my fingers through. His strong angular jaw, prominently chiseled cheekbones, and bright violet eyes. And his smile. Oh, that smile . . . When he smiles, he has the tiniest of dimples on either side of his mouth that light up his face, transforming him from handsome to godly in mere seconds.

  My heart surges in my breast, beating wildly as I hope against all odds that this child will look like Alex. Deep in my heart, I know I will not see him again. Somewhere in my brain, that protective instinct kicks in, demanding that I protect my unborn child from all of this madness.

  Tired of playing games, I look to Nari and growl, “Will you spit it out already? I know there’s something you’re not telling me. So, please, let’s cut the bullshit and get on with it already.”

  A satisfied smile expands along her lips as she says, “Finally. You will need that for what is to come.” Extending her hand to me, she waits patiently for a moment. When I don’t take it, she lets out a frustrated sigh.

  “Kai, take my hand. You can trust me. We are just moving to the bed to get comfortable for what I need to tell you.”

  Eyeing her speculatively for several seconds, I look for any signs of untruth. Not able to find any, I slip my hand into hers, allowing her to help me up from the floor. After settling in, she levels me with an intense stare. Her tone becomes grave, intently focused. She’s speaking in hushed whispers as we all huddle around her.

  “I needed to make sure that I could trust you. You have to understand that anything I say cannot leave this room.”

  We all nod in agreement. Looking back to me, she says, “Before I tell you what I need to say, I must know . . .” She pauses, leaving her words unspoken for a moment. Inhaling deeply through her nose, an adamant look settles on her face as she presses me.

  “I must know what your mother said when she found out you were with child.”

  Peering into her eyes, I weigh my options. It seems as if she isn’t going to tell me what I want to know unless I give her this little bit of information. What harm will it do? Although, on the other hand . . . information is power. What could she do? Maybe she would try to use it against me.

  Looking deeper into her eyes, I search for any signs of malevolence. Is she someone who wishes to do me harm? No. I don’t think so. I don’t get that feeling around Nari.

  Breathing out a sigh of relief, I an
swer her question. “Well, she did what she always does. My mother gave me an ultimatum. In no uncertain terms, she told me that I had two choices, which really means I only have one. The first choice was to have this child and take over as one of the five until my child comes of age. Or choose option number two, which means I get to die at the hands of my mother while she raises my child as her own.” The combined gasps of Hye, Key, and Are reach my ears. Nari silently nods as if she suspected this would be my answer.

  “Have you made your decision?” Nari questions. Irritation prickles at the back of my scalp. What a stupid question. What choice do I have? How could any mother choose to turn their child over to a monster?

  My frustration bubbles to the surface, entering my tone as I snap, “Of course I made a decision. Not that I really had a choice. Did you really think I would hand my child over to that monster and allow her to raise him or her?”

  Nari’s silence further exasperates my irritation. Leaning forward, I’m but a breath away as I harshly whisper, “I’m sick of the damn games. Say whatever it is you need to say. Now.”

  Nodding, she replies, “Very well. I’m part of NIS.” She stops, noticing my look of confusion.

  “NIS is The National Intelligence Service of South Korea.” The breath I was holding rushes out with a loud exhale. She waits, allowing me to gain my composure.

  “What does that mean?” I probe, desperately trying to wrap my head around this whirlwind of events.

  “It means that I am an undercover agent. There has been an open investigation on the five heads of the Kkangpae for years. However, it wasn’t until we noticed someone inside was leaking information to North Korea that we decided to become involved.”

  Scrunching my nose in confusion, I let out an agitated sigh. “I don’t understand what you mean by ‘leaking information’ to North Korea. Look, I teach fourth grade to a bunch of rambunctious ten-year-olds. Yes, I understand military life and politics. Nonetheless, I do not keep up on current events, so you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that and get to the point.”