by Brook Wilder
Melody barely had time for the reality of her situation to come back to her in full-fledged panic before the van screeched to a halt. The back door swung open, and rough hands grabbed her, pulling her none to gently from the floor of the vehicle and out into the evening spring air.
It took her a minute to get her feet under her, with hands jerking her forward and keeping her off-balance. Melody struggled as much as she could, but she knew that she stood little chance against the men’s strength.
Fear bit into her, spreading through her veins like poison, uncoiling something wild and terrible deep in the pit of her stomach, but there wasn’t anything she could do to fight that either.
Melody cried out when one of her kidnappers shoved her forward hard enough to have her stumbling, her arms wind-milling as she tried desperately to stay on her feet, but she couldn’t keep her balance.
She landed with a hard thud onto concrete, her knees protesting under the strain as the rough pavement scraped her delicate skin.
It didn’t matter though. It was a distant pain. Like the bruises and cuts that marred her face, and the wounds she knew would start to show later on her arms and ribs from where the men had roughed her up.
None of it mattered because she knew worse was to come. So much worse.
Melody glanced up through one swollen eye, dread filling her as they took into the large, mansion-like house that stood like an impenetrable fortress in front of her. Just like in her nightmares, she was back at Enrique’s house. The place that haunted her dreams.
The place that haunted her when she was awake too, with memories of pain and rejection, shame and guilt.
She was jerked back up to her feet with little ceremony and found herself staring into the face of the man she had kicked early in her struggle. The man who had hit her and left her with a black eye and fat lip.
He sneered at her, his cheeks flushing red with anger. It was obvious that he hadn’t forgotten the kick. His gaze swept contemptuously over her swollen face.
“Not so pretty now, are you?” he taunted her, shoving her back with one hard hand. “Who knows, maybe Enrique will finally see you for the little whore you are and give you to us to play with. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
Before she could stop herself, Melody drew her head back and spit at him. She knew it was a mistake as soon as rage twisted the man’s face into something vile and murderous, but she couldn’t keep the smug smile off of her face.
Even when he lunged for her. Even when he drew back his meaty fist, moving as if he was going to hit her again.
She didn’t close her eyes or flinch away. She just stared at him, daring him to do it. But before he could move any closer, one of the other men pulled him a few feet away, even though his vicious glare never left her face.
“You know what Enrique is like with her,” the shorter man whispered, but the words were loud enough for her to hear just fine. “You don’t want him to find out that you were the one to mark up her face do you? You don’t want to hurt her. You know what he did to Julien, and he was just looking at her.”
The man nodded, some of the tension finally going out of him, even though he shot Melody another ugly look before turning away. At least he didn’t tough her again as she was dragged inside, even if he did keep his hands clenched into tight fists as they walked through the front doorway.
Terror overwhelmed everything else, making her mouth go dry and her thoughts circle over and over in her head. She wished she could go back and tell Christian that she loved him. That he was the only man she’d ever really truly loved. That she hadn’t even known what love really was until she’d met him.
But it was too late to do any of that. Far too late.
She had no way to tell how long she’d been unconscious in the back of the van, but it must have been hours since she had first left to go to the diner. Christian was probably worried about her.
Melody could picture him in her mind, pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair and messing it up in that way he had of doing whenever he got anxious about something.
She drew in a deep breath as they dragged her further into Enrique’s house. The building that had become her prison over the last year.
As her feet moved one step at a time, Melody tried to keep her thoughts on Christian and far, far away from whatever Enrique was going to do to her. She wished she could turn and run away, but she was held tight by the drug-dealer’s men. There was nowhere for her to run. She wasn’t going to get away this time.
Her muscles were frozen, just like in her nightmare. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. There was nothing she could do to save herself.
At the end of the hall, the men finally drew her to a halt, and one stepped forward and knocked timidly at the closed door.
“This better be fucking good. I don’t like interruptions,” a familiar voice answered, already sounding on edge.
It sent chills down her spine, icy fingers of fear that made her gasp. Enrique!
The door to the office was jerked open, and suddenly he was there, real and in front of her, not just in her nightmares.
Enrique stood in the middle of the room, and his eyes locked onto Melody’s. He looked like he was in shock. Like he couldn’t believe that she was really there. To be honest, she couldn’t either.
Just a few short hours ago she had been with Christian, safe, on her way to fight for Bianca’s freedom.
Melody’s heart lurched. She hadn’t even thought of the older woman since waking up in that van. What would happen to her now? The Devil’s Martyrs didn’t have any leverage to use against Enrique. Now that he had her, he held all the cards.
“Melody?” Enrique whispered her name as he walked closer towards her.
He reached out for, and she flinched away, and after a moment his hand dropped. But his eyes never left her as he tracked the bloody cuts and bruises on her face, growing darker with every second that passed until they looked nearly black.
“Who did this?” Enrique asked softly.
It was obvious that, even now, he wasn’t talking to her. She hadn’t spoken yet. He would expect her to stay silent. That was how he liked his women.
“Who did this to her?”
There was a moment of tense silence in the office as the men stood still, trying to avoid notice. Finally, one of them shrugged, pointing to the man she’d kicked, the man who had threatened her.
Enrique turned on him, his eyes going even darker as he stepped forward, pleading, desperate to exonerate himself.
“She kicked me in the balls, boss. I had to teach her a lesson.”
In the blink of an eye, Enrique’s handsome face twisted into one of demonic rage. And in that moment, Melody could see just how unstable he truly was. There was madness shining in his jet-black eyes. The calm he’d worn just a moment before had been nothing but a thin veneer. A mask that he wore to hide the monster lurking inside of him.
Just as startlingly quick, Enrique’s face went blank once more as he drew down the mask of civility he wore. And without a single word, he pulled a wicked looking gun from behind his back, pointed it at his man, and pulled the trigger.
The other man didn’t even have time to react, his mouth still open in a gasp of shock, before he crumpled to the floor like a rag doll, suddenly lifeless. Melody choked back a gasp of her own as she looked down at the man, and then at herself. She was splattered with his blood. Crimson red droplets rained across her hair and face and clothes, and she could smell the metallic tang of it in the air.
None of the men reached for their fallen friend. Melody was too terrified to move, to speak. Not that she would have known what to say. She’d just seen a man murdered in cold blood in front of her. No. Because of her.
Enrique didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He just calmly replaced the gun, going on as if nothing had happened at all.
He took a step towards her, making a soft cooing sound as he stared at her bruises, and the blood
that was still dripping down her face.
“I’m so sorry that you were treated so poorly by my men. It won’t happen again.” Enrique said.
The men in the room hurried to nod in agreement, even though none of them spoke a single word.
He brushed a single finger down her cheek, and it took everything inside her not to pull away or flinch from his touch.
“I’m so glad that you are back, Melody.” He purred the words. “I missed you, angel.”
This time, Melody couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through her at the all too familiar and hated endearment.
He mistook it for disgust at being covered in grease and dirt from the van and blood from the man he’d just murdered. He didn’t realize that, out of everything, he was the one thing that disgusted her the most. But she didn’t say it out loud. She still couldn’t speak.
“Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.” Enrique led her away after casually telling his men to get rid of the body.
He might as well have been telling them to take out the garbage. Something commonplace and inconsequential. But to Enrique, the only life that mattered was his. She had to remember that.
She knew the only reason he appeared to care for her wasn’t because of any real feelings he had for her. Melody didn’t think he was capable of any sort of unselfish emotion. It was because he wanted her and someone else had taken her away. It was because she fed his ego.
Melody forced herself to remember that as she followed silently beside Enrique. She was numb with fear and shock, the image of the bullet firing, the man falling, his crimson blood splattering across her skin, playing behind her eyelids every time she shut her eyes.
She was all too aware that she was in the arms of a lunatic.
Melody wondered how she could have ever believed that she was in love with him. She hadn’t even known what real love was until she’d met Christian. He’d shown her what love was. And she’d learned that Enrique wasn’t capable of love. Because, to love someone, you had to be selfless. Something the man would never be.
She was an object to him, a possession to soothe his ego, and nothing more. He couldn’t stand the thought of someone else having what he wanted. And he wanted to own her.
Melody shuddered again at her thoughts, and Enrique mistook it for cold, holding her closer to his side. It made bile rise up inside her, and it had nothing to do with morning sickness.
Enrique’s touch was unfamiliarly gentle as he led her into an oversized bathroom. There was a walk-in shower large enough to fit three or four people, and he nudged her in the direction.
“Get cleaned up, Melody. I’ll have clothes waiting for you in the bedroom,” Enrique said, giving her a long dark look. “I’ll be waiting for you too.”
Melody bit back a cry as he shut the door.
She looked down at herself, at the red that stained her clothes, and ripped two of her fingernails as she fought to get the blood-soaked fabric off of her body. Melody stumbled to the shower and turned on the water as hot as she could stand it, before getting under the steaming spray.
Her shoulders shook as sobs wracked her frame and her tears mixed with the water of the shower, disappearing down the drain unheard and unseen.
“What the hell am I going to do?” she pleaded to the tile in front of her but there was no answer forthcoming. She knew she was on her own.
The thought just made her cry even harder, until she was choking on her tears. She cried until there wasn’t anything left inside her except the fear and adrenaline that pushed her to keep moving. That told her she couldn’t give up.
Melody cradled her belly, where even now Christian’s baby was growing inside her. She couldn’t just let grief and fear overcome her. She had more than just herself to think about. She had another life that was depending on her. Not to mention Christian.
She tried to force her fear and panic aside so that she could think, but every realization just pushed her further and further into the dark abyss inside her.
She didn’t have a cell phone. It had been taken from her when the men had shoved her into the van. And she had no other way to contact Christian, or anyone else for that matter. Melody knew from past experience that Enrique’s men wouldn’t help her. He only hired men as selfish and narcissistic as he was. They would never endanger themselves or their position just to help someone, let alone her.
Melody was still reeling with shock when she forced herself to turn off the now long-gone-cold spray of the shower. She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out, but nearly stumbled back and slipped on the wet tile.
“I have a question to ask you, angel,” Enrique said softly.
He had been waiting for her to get done and step out to see him. And he was tossing a long, steely-edged knife from hand to hand. That awful mask was back on his face.
“You’re pregnant? And the baby is mine.”
That last one wasn’t a question, but even still she could see that he expected an answer. All she could manage was one terrified nod, hoping it would be enough.
Enrique moved so fast she could hardly keep up with him as he stalked towards her, and suddenly the sharp tip of the blade was pressed against the vulnerable skin of her throat.
“I’ll kill you and the baby if it isn’t mine.”
He snarled the words, his spittle hitting her in the face, but she dared not move. She didn’t flinch. She was terrified of what he would do if she did.
But she couldn’t force herself to say the words. Instead, Melody watched his face, saw his eyes go from dark brown to black with murderous rage.
“You never intended to give Bianca up, did you? You were just going to take me and… what, kill her too?”
“The old woman is here and safe,” Enrique said, stepping back and giving her a long look. “For the moment. And she’ll stay that way as long as you behave. If you don’t…”
Melody swallowed hard. She understood perfectly. Bianca was his insurance that she didn’t try and run. That she didn’t try and escape.
The little hope that she had left slowly drained out of her, washing down the shower with the last of the water.
Melody was numb was he dragged her through a doorway into another room. She could barely move her feet, barely muster the energy to stay upright, but as she looked around and saw where she was something broke apart inside her.
“No.”
She looked around the familiar room. It was Enrique’s bedroom. The bedroom that she’d shared with him for a year. The bedroom where he had…
“Yes. You’re mine now, Melody. You’ll always be mine. You belong to me, don’t you see?”
Enrique crooned the words to her and her panic spiked like a detonation of TNT.
“No! Let me go! Please! I don’t want to die. My baby…” Melody cried the words, trailing off into tears.
But Enrique just smiled at her as if he didn’t even see them.
“I’ll be back soon. I have work to do tonight. You were… unexpected,” Enrique purred, tracing one finger down her throat.
He still held the knife in his hand, and it scraped along her flesh.
Without another word, he walked out of the door, closing it behind him. A moment later, she heard the soft click of the door being locked. She was trapped.
Melody cried and screamed, pounding her fists against the door, but there was no one there to hear her.
She pleaded for someone, anyone, to let her go, for someone to save her baby, but after an hour no one had come.
Tears were still streaming down her face, but she refused to give in. She couldn’t give up. She had to think of her baby. Of Christian. Of Bianca. Of all the people that needed her.
Melody had just raised her bruised and bloody hand to pound on the door once more when a soft sound from the other side made her freeze.
“Melody?” It came again. A voice, high and feminine. “Melody, it’s Amanda.”
“Amanda?”
Her mind reeled. Enrique’s cous
in. The woman who had tried to betray her.
“Amanda, you have to let me out of her. Please. If we were ever friends. He… He’s going to kill my baby.”
“I’m sorry, Melody. I can’t unlock the door. I don’t have the keys.” There was real frustration in the other woman’s voice. “And I’m sorry for what happened. Earlier. I wish… I wish I could go back and change everything. I wish I could help you…”
Melody sucked in a ragged breath.
“It’s okay, Amanda,” she whispered through the door. “I forgive you. We all make mistakes. We’re just human.”
Despondent, she collapsed against the door. Amanda was her only hope of escape, and there was no way for her to help her.
