by J. L. Beck
“I’m so sorry. I should have been here.” My fear of losing them is simmering now that I can see and hold them, but the anger inside me is just as strong as ever. One thought sticks out inside my mind over everything else now that I know Mouse and Q are safe.
Kill. Kill the bastard who tried to hurt your family...
“It’s okay, we are okay now,” Mouse whispers, trying to calm the storm beating against my insides. She has no idea how close to losing control I am. How much I want to kill, destroy, hurt…
“Good. I am glad you’re both okay.” I’m feeling conflicted. I want to stay here with Mouse and my son, but I know the job must get done. I cannot stand that this bastard is still alive. “I need to talk to this guy. I need to know how the fuck he got in here and then I need to kill him, send his head to whoever sent him our way.”
Mouse shivers in my arms. I know I’m scaring her but I’m not going to lie to her about what I plan to do next. I plant a kiss on her forehead and one on the top of Q’s head before I straighten and exit the room.
It’s been a long time since I felt this kind of darkness creep in, and I’m afraid of what it might do to me if I unleash it completely. I have to remind myself that I’m doing this for them... to keep them safe… and to put out the flames of anger torching my insides.
The next few hours go by in a blur. Blood covers my hands, and I’ve ripped my shirt off and thrown it to the ground. I’ve been working this guy over for I don’t know how long now. I stopped thinking about how long I’ve been down here a while ago. The only thing that really matters to me is vengeance.
I stare down at the fucking piece of shit, wishing fire would come from my eyes. He’s already admitted to knowing about Q and that my father is the one who sent him. He’s told me that there was a traitor in my house, which is where my fears laid all along. Now I just need to get the name out of him, and I can kill that bastard, too. I won’t rest until I’ve eliminated every single threat possible against my son and Mouse.
I will kill everybody who dares to get in my fucking way.
I crack my knuckles. There’s so much blood… I worry he may die before I get the answers I seek out of him.
“I don’t think you’ll like the answer to the question you seek, Mr. Rossi.”
I tilt my head sideways, examining his already bruised face. There is no way he is getting out of this alive, no fucking way, so I suppose I can offer him a quick death in return for his confession.
“Tell me who the fucking traitor is and I might kill you with a bullet to the head instead of leaving you to my men to finish off.”
The guy doesn’t seem to care about what I’ve said, and I can’t contain my anger over his silence a second longer. Pulling my fist back, I uppercut him, sending him swaying backward on his chair. Then I cross the space between us and press my foot to his throat.
“I have no fucking patience for your games. I am not my father and I will fucking crush your windpipe without thought if you do not tell me what I want to fucking hear,” I roar, pressing more firmly against his throat.
The fucker smiles through bloody teeth, a gurgle fills his throat, and I relish in the sound. I want to kill him so badly it’s all I can see or feel, but I rein in the need, telling myself soon, so very soon. I pull away, letting air enter his lungs.
“Of course, you’re not like your father,” he wheezes. “He’d never let some girl run away with his heart.”
I grind my teeth together. Of course, he knows about Mouse. He was sent here by my father.
“Tell me what you know,” I grit out, pulling my gun from my holster.
The man’s face darkens. “It is her. The girl you care for so much. The one who’s run away with your heart. She is your traitor… she was our insider… she is the reason we know about your son. She is the one who opened the door for me so I could come inside without anyone knowing.”
The world around me stops. Everything stands still. My heart cramps inside my chest. I can’t breathe… I can’t see. Everything around me darkens for a moment. I feel like I’ve fallen off the deep end and into dark stormy waters.
For I moment, I can’t feel anything. I’m completely numb. This can’t be real. He is lying. There is no way… A million images fill my mind, floating around my head like puzzle pieces I’m desperately trying to connect.
Could it be true? Could I have been so stupid, so careless? I did find her at my father's house… Is it possible she’s been playing me this whole time? Waiting for me to let her inside my heart. The guards said they saw her downstairs just before… Why didn't she scream? My men told me they only heard the nanny scream for help. Mouse never called out for help. She never did anything...
I want to take the gun in my hands and place it to my own head. I want to shoot myself because hurting her will be just like hurting myself.
I shake my head. No, no, not Mouse...
The numbness starts to fade… Then, like a tidal wave, everything comes crashing into me at once. Betrayal, hurt, and an unbelievable anger. A deep fiery rage burns through my veins. It consumes every inch of me.
I place the barrel of my gun to the man's head and pull the trigger. His brains splatter across the wall and floor behind him, his eyes going vacant with death in an instant. I feel nothing… nothing at all.
I turn to Aston. “Go and get the girl. Bring her to me here.” I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing this was nothing more than a nightmare. Wishing I didn’t have to snuff the light out of her. Everything I’ve done in the last month was to protect her… to protect our future, and then she does this.
She betrays me just like the last woman in my life, Q’s mother and my own mother the time before that… She’s nothing. Nothing but a fucking hole for me to use and that’s if I even want her by the time I get done with her.
I snarl, hearing her voice enter the corridor… she’s fragile, so fucking breakable, and I’m going to enjoy breaking her… making her feel the same pain I do right at this very moment.
My little mouse has finally been caught in a trap... and this one she won’t have anyone to help her escape from.
She steps into the room, her face white as a ghost. Her steps are timid and scared. Her hand comes up to her mouth as if she is trying not to puke taking in the scene presented to her.
“Xan—”
“Shut up!” I cut her off. She takes a step backward and looks up at me, her eyes impossibly wide. “I fucking trusted you… I fucking trusted you with my son. Everything I did the last month for you. I found your sister. Paid five million fucking dollars for you so that you wouldn’t get raped and taken by some bastard, and the whole fucking time, you were playing me?”
She starts shaking her head as if she’s going to say no but I’m already on her. My hand wraps around her small fragile throat. I feel her knees buckle, her body thrashing in my hold. I kick her feet out from underneath her and push her to the floor with my hand still at her throat.
I can tell she is trying to say something, but I won’t listen to her. I don’t want to hear her voice ever again. I squeeze harder until I know she is struggling for air. Tears roll down the side of her face, running down onto my hands. I feel small hands slapping at my bare chest, her tiny nails digging into the skin as she fights for another breath.
I should kill her right now… All I’d have to do is keep squeezing her delicate throat a little longer. Her creamy white cheeks are already turning a deathly blue, and her eyes are starting to drift closed. I know in my mind it won’t take much more. Just a little bit longer and I’ll never see her beautiful smile again, or the way she looks when she falls apart. Just a little longer and she won’t be mine anymore, and I can rid my life of the stain she’s left on my soul.
And yet I pull away, releasing her throat finger by finger, before shoving her to the unforgiving floor. I hear the slap of her skin against the concrete, but I don’t care. I can’t. She’s betrayed me. She’s made me weak.
I am weak. I can f
eel it.
I can’t kill her. I can’t fucking do it.
She takes in a sharp breath, filling her lungs. She wheezes as if she can’t suck in enough air. Her hands clutch her chest, and she curls up on her side. I clench my fists, willing myself to point the gun at her and pull the trigger.
But I can’t. I fucking can’t and it kills me inside to know that I’ve let her get under my skin. That I’ve fallen in love with someone only for them to hurt me in the worst way. I stand there watching her as she lays on the cold floor, her eyes closed, sobs wracking her body.
“If I could fucking kill you, I would, but since I can’t, I’ll just make your life a living hell, taking from you every single thing you’ve taken from me. This time, I won’t have mercy on you… not one fucking bit.” Before she takes another breath, I’m walking out of the room.
“Take her to the cell,” I order, before slamming my fist into the wall in front of me. The pain of the impact radiates up my arm. It hurts, but not as bad as the fucking muscle beating inside my chest.
Fuck love. Fuck life.
I walk up the stairs, forcing myself to keep going instead of turning around, because if I turn around and go back down the stairs, I’ll end up killing her. Even though I’m angry, that would be my biggest mistake ever. I can get my revenge on her in other ways. Besides ending her life would be the easy way out.
I let the anger inside of me fester, and by the time I make it upstairs and into the bedroom, I’m ready to explode. This room, my bedroom that I fucking shared with her. I want it gone. I want everything gone.
It still smells like her. Her unique scent lingers, clinging to everything in here. I need to destroy everything that reminds me of her, everything of hers, everything she’s touched or even looked at. I want to erase her from my life, from my fucking mind.
I start at the dresser, pulling out all the drawers and throwing them out in the hallway. Clearing out everything one by one. The nightstands, every last item of clothing in the closet. I throw it all out. I rip the sheets off the bed and flip the mattress over. It’s not enough. I start kicking the dresser, over and over again until there is nothing left but a pile of fucking wood, but my anger is still uncontrollable.
With nothing left to destroy in this room, I start punching the wall. Bones crunch with every punch but I’m past the feeling of pain. Blood covers the wallpaper quickly. Leftover blood from the torture session is mingling with my own blood as I punch into the unforgiving wall until my arm gives out. I fall to my knees and let my face fall into my hands.
How did this fucking happen? How did I not see this?
I shake my head. Ransacking my mind for clues that I’ve missed. She never gave me a reason not to believe her. Everything she ever did seemed so fucking genuine. I lower my hands and look at them. They are swollen and covered in blood. I need a fucking shower, to rinse away the evidence of her betrayal. I force myself back on my feet and drag myself into the bathroom.
The light flickers on, and my eyes move over the bathroom. There are pieces of her littered throughout the bathroom as well. My eyes gloss over the counter, as I start to undo my belt, and that’s when I see it.
There’s a pregnancy test on the counter. I can’t stop from walking over to inspect it. As soon as I’m in front of it, I see the distinct plus sign. Guilt and regret wash over me.
Mouse is pregnant… she’s pregnant with my baby… our baby.
I race down the stairs, my heart beating so hard I’m sure it’s going to burst out of my chest at any second. I run down another flight of stairs and then another, rushing into the basement. Whatever she’s done is pushed into the back of my mind now that I know she is carrying my child. I can’t leave her down here. I turn the corner and freeze. The cell door is wide open, and everything is empty.
My heart sinks into my stomach, and I feel like vomiting when I see the scrap of paper lying on the cot. She escaped. She fucking escaped.
I clutch the paper in my hands before opening it to read it. As soon as I do, every emotion inside of me evaporates into thin air.
A coldness sweeps through my veins…
Dearest Son,
It’s a shame that you couldn’t be a better leader to our family name. Not only did you fall for every trick I put in front of you, you let another disgraceful whore into your home. I thought Damon was the stupid one, but you’ve been playing into my hand since I sent Q’s mother your way to get pregnant. You played right into my hand without even thinking about the consequences and now I’ve come to claim what was originally mine to begin with. Thanks for breaking her in. I look forward to being the one to break her, since clearly you were too weak to.
My entire body is shaking by the time I finish reading the letter… I pull out my cell and text Damon, telling him it’s time. My one and only thought is to get Mouse back and kill the bastard for real this time.
41
Ella
The gag in my mouth stops my screams from being heard, but it doesn’t stop me from doing everything I can to stop the miserable bastard holding onto me. I kick and thrash around as much as possible. My hands are bound behind my back. Cable ties dig into my newly healed skin. The monster’s fat fingers dig painfully into my arm as he drags me behind him. The smell of dirt fills my nostrils as I kick it up in an attempt to slow him down. We’re in some kind of underground tunnel in the basement... an escape entrance of some sort.
I try and tell myself that this can’t be happening, but it is. Tears sting my eyes. I need to get away. I need to find a way to escape this man. I can’t let him hurt me, not when I might be carrying Xander’s baby. If anything, I need to fight for my unborn child. With that thought, I dig my heels into the dirt in an attempt to slow him down.
It does nothing but make him grip me harder and grunt as he pulls me deeper into the tunnel. “Don’t be difficult. The more trouble you give me, the worse I’m going to make it for you and believe me when I say I can make it very, very bad for you.”
I shudder, trying once more to escape his dirty hands. “You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have breaking you. We’re going to continue right where we left off.” His words cause me to scream, and my throat throbs. What if Xander never comes for me? I recoil at the thought of becoming this man’s whore. Of being used by him. It feels like my worst nightmares are becoming my reality. Bile burns up my throat. I can’t vomit again, not right now. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
He tugs on my arm again, and I almost fall over my own two feet.
“Let’s go,” he growls in annoyance without looking back at me. I wonder how he got onto the property, or even inside the house to get me without any of Xander’s men knowing. My feet throb as we walk a few hundred more feet. Fresh cool air starts to fill my nose as we reach the tunnel’s exit. Dirt underneath my shoes turns into wet forest ground as the night sky appears above us.
The evil man in front of me tugs me along, making me walk faster than possible with all the tree branches and thick brush. We walk another couple hundred feet until we come up to a car.
I pull back against his hold when he opens the trunk and turns to grab me. My effort is pointless. He smacks me with the back of his hand, sending me sailing to the ground. My cheek throbs, and an evil grin pulls at his lips.
“You’re a real fucking bitch,” he spits, before picking me up and tossing me inside. The trunk closes above me with a loud thud, leaving me in absolute darkness. The engine roars to life a few moments later, and the car starts moving, each bump in the road vibrating through me.
I thought I had been scared in the past, but nothing compares to the gut-wrenching terror consuming every part of my body. All my thoughts go back to Xander and how he looked at me. All the hate and hurt in his eyes. It felt like a knife twisting in my heart and now that’s possibly going to be the last time I see him.
It can’t be. I refuse to let it be the last memory we share. I have to live, because I have to protect our baby. Bu
t the more I think about it, the more I come up with nothing. There is no viable way for me to get out of this unscathed.
Xander is never going to come for me; I feel it deep in my bones. Not when he thinks I’ve betrayed him. Even if he were to try to find me, how long would it take him? How long would I able to endure his father’s treatment without breaking? Even if I make it out of this alive…will I ever be the same?
I roll around in the trunk as Xander’s father continues driving. I struggle against the cable ties that bind my hands. The next turn we take makes something wedge underneath me. I scoot around until I can get it into my hands.
It’s cold and heavy, and made out of some kind of metal. I keep moving it around, my fingers putting an image of the item together in my head. A crowbar or something like it. I almost shout in victory. I try not get too excited about it though. It's not going to do me any good if I can’t get my hands untied.
I move it so the sharp pointy edge is in between my hands. Then I wedge it right under where the cable tie is connected and push my body weight against it. It keeps sliding off instead of slicing through like I want it to, and I growl into the gag with frustration. My palms are sweaty, making it even harder to regain control every time it slips out of my hand.
Don’t give up. Fight. I need to fight… fight with every single ounce of blood inside me. Xander might not come for me, but I have to try and escape this on my own. We make a right turn, which makes my body roll to the other side of the trunk. I right myself and we drive for a short time before the car comes to a complete stop. It’s now or never.
I keep trying with all my strength to break the stupid cable ties, but they won’t budge. Fear trickles down my spine when I hear the car door open and close. In that second, I decide to try one final time. I place the crowbar back into place and push as hard as I can. My heart’s beating so fast, the pounding resonates into my ears.
