Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One Scar

A resounding smackfills the line from Charles’ end and my stomach turns.

He wasn’t supposed to get hurt. Not like this. Just a simple distraction.

“What is so hard about keeping your mouth shut?” a deep voice growls, the utter contempt hits me like a blow to the chest. He never said this would happen, that his father would react this way.

Declan grips my hand tightly in his, knowing I’m close to losing it. You don’t hurt my people.

“Charles,” I whisper, keeping my voice low. Tears prick my eyes, but I try my best to keep the emotions out of my voice. “We’re here. Say the word and we’re coming in.”

He stays silent, almost as if he’s even holding his breath. Fuck.

He doesn’t want us to come in. Why the fuck is he having us wait? I look at the guys for answers but none of them have any for me. Motherfucker. We should have had eyes on the inside. We should have had one of us in there as backup for him.

I turn off my mic so he can’t hear our end. “We should go in,” I argue.

Declan squeezes me. “He hasn’t asked us to.” His words don’t calm me like they normally would.

I hear him apologize followed by a huff of air and faint grunt and begin cursing. If I wasn’t already going to kill this motherfucker, I would be now. I’m starting to understand why they all hate me taking the lead so much. Why they start to go crazy when I use myself as bait, or as a distraction. It fucking sucks being on this end of things. Clueless and fucking helpless.

Apologies to the guys in advance, but I refuse to ever be in this position again. The only concession I can give them is to be more understanding about why they don’t like it. That’s as generous as I can be. Never doing this waiting on the outside bullshit again.

I can hear his father begin to mumble and mutter things but can only catch every other word or so. Did he just ask Charles to tie the others up? It’s clear he wasn’t thrilled with their presence but none of us expected it to turn out this way. Anger? Yes. Confusion? Absolutely. Stealing the kills from me? Fuck no. Just what the hell is going on?

Turning my mic back on, I turn to Declan and Luca. “We need to move. He sounds deranged.” Every fucking word out of Donahue’s mouth is backing me up and I can tell from their wary glances I’m not the only one thinking it. Donahue starts talking about how he just needs to plan his next steps and I start feeling antsy.

“We need to make a decision and make one now. I don’t like the way this is headed and I think we’re hurtling towards an outcome I can’t live with.”

No one argues, but no one agrees either. It doesn’t make me feel better. Charles’ breathing changes and indecisiveness wars across Luca’s face. I get it. I do. We don’t know what we’re running into. Charles knows the signal to give us to come running and he hasn’t given it. He’s had plenty of opportunities and has remained silent on purpose. None of that matters when we didn’t account for the clear mental instability Donahue is showing.

“Inside the gate but hold positions,” Luca finally decides. Charles has already cleared the way for us, keeping only his men in place. Making it truly as easy as just walking through the gates.

“You thought she was yours too,” a raspy whisper breaks through the line. Dread builds in my gut as the madman whispers to Charles. I don’t hold my position. I’m already moving up the long driveway at a full sprint. I’m making the call for all of us.

“You don’t deserve to be my heir.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“No, Charles!” I can’t help the yell that slips free as I put everything I have into running to the front door. The more I listen, the worse it gets. It doesn’t take a genius to be able to guess exactly where this is heading. Donahue has officially lost his mind to a decades-old obsession. I never would have sent Charles into this fucking hellhole if I thought for even a moment his father would ever kill him.

Footsteps pound behind me and I know the guys are right behind me. Ready to have not only my back but Charles’ as well. A beep sounds in my ear indicating Joe has turned off my mic remotely from the van. The clarity in which I can hear Charles’ sputtered breath tells me it wasn’t only mine either. It was all of ours except for his.

Just hold on, Charles. I’m almost there. I push myself harder. Each footstep rocking through my body as I put everything I have into going just a little bit faster.

“Maybe I never would have lost my little daisy.”

Tears stream down my face as the front door comes into my line of sight. Almost there. I push away the nausea listening to this man induces. I don’t have the time to be sad and repulsed by the memories that are attempting to bombard me. Something happened. I can feel it. I fucking know something happened.

Charles doesn’t sound okay. Something is fucking wrong.

I throw open the front door, not even pausing as I vault through the entryway and head straight down the hallway to where his office is located. More memories of this place try to break in, but I push those away too. Every instinct in my body is screaming to just get to Charles.

As I hurdle down the hallway, I catch a glimpse of Charles in the office, just on the inside of the doors. He’s on his knees, clutching his stomach as he looks straight ahead where his father’s desk should be. Flashbacks of my father’s office threaten to slow me down, but the resigned look on his face hurdles me forward through the pain. His eyes slowly close and I can see the moment he accepts his fate.

“Charles!” I scream as I burst through the doors, barely having a moment to process the scene in front of my eyes. His father has a gun raised, pointing in his direction. The ghost of my mother raising a gun pointed at my chest is just behind me. I’m watching my worst moments happening all over again and this time I don’t know if I’ll be able to heal.

My body is moving before I can even process the decision to do it. The gunshot explodes through the room, the sound reverberating through my skull and driving all thoughts from my head.

There’s no time to even feel relief as I crash into Charles, forcing him out of the path of the bullet as pain explodes across my chest.

I’m seventeen again, looking up at the disgust and disdain in my mother’s green eyes as she stared down at me and promised everything was going to be okay now. The bullet exploded in my chest, the coppery tang of my own blood on my tongue all I could taste. The smoke started to burn through my lungs as the heat got closer and closer to my skin. A plea for death the only thought left in my mind.

My body falls on top of Charles and blood coats both of us. The haze of memories clears, jarring me back into my painful reality. A cough wracks my body as pandemonium explodes all above and around us.

“Scar,” Charles cries as his hands begin to roam my body. All I can do is groan as I struggle to get a full breath into my lungs. Fuck. That never gets easier.

Another groan escapes as I roll off him and attempt to call out for D, but only incoherent mumbles come out. I give Charles a half-hearted thumbs up. Thank fuck for Kevlar. That shot was intended for right between his eyes. There would have been no surviving that. Based on how he looks right now, survival is already questionable.

“Declan,” I moan, finally getting enough air to push his name out. He rushes over, falling to our sides. His hands try to find where my damage is but I push him away and force him to focus on Charles. The blood is all his. My vest took the full impact of the bullet. I just need a few moments to catch my breath.

I stare at the ceiling and focus on my breathing as Declan gets to work stabilizing Charles. Oh, I am so going to kick his ass for this later.

I turn my head and watch as Ryder and Kade gleefully restrain Donahue as he fights and snarls at them. A madman unrecognizable as the man who once gave me daisies until the night he stole my innocence.

“It’s a stab wound to the abdomen. He’s going to need a blood transfusion at the very least, but it’s hard to determine if he’ll need a laparotomy at this point. I don’t think he hit anything vital, and he’s stable for now, but there may be internal bleeding. We can’t rule it out without further testing.”

Joe’s voice fills the line. “Ambulance is already ready and waiting.”

Charles grunts as Declan puts more pressure against his wound. “I think I’d rather stay for the show, if you don’t mind.”

A smile breaks out on my face and he grins up at me. He’s okay enough to be cracking jokes. “You should really go,” I encourage, but some of my fear dissipates at Declan’s silence. If he isn’t immediately protesting, it can’t be too bad.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” he argues.

Fair enough. “Me too,” I agree, climbing back to my feet. My chest still aches with every movement, but the relief of seeing Charles’ smile is enough to make me ignore it.

I wait for D to say one way or another and even his lips twitch as Charles gives him his best puppy dog eyes. He sighs. “I’ll keep an eye on him. First sign of hypertension…”

“You got it,” Charles cuts him off, getting a droll look in response.

Now for the fun to begin.

* * *

“I thoughtabout hunting you down, one by one.” I admit as I get started on my work. “Using your blood to make a promise to the next.” Blood drips from Dean Bernard’s cheek as I drag the tip of my knife along his cheek, enjoying the way he shakes in his chair. It was kind of thoughtful of Donahue to have them all ready for me. He probably doesn’t see it the same way.

“Each murder more and more gruesome and violent, carving my name into your flesh as a message to not only the world, but the others. Each one knowing what was coming for you and praying that I wouldn’t find you. Put you in the very position I found myself in when I was no more than a child. A child being hunted by monsters for daring to survive their first attack.”

Tears already spring to his eyes and we’ve only just begun. He’s far too weak to handle half of what I did and survive. Good thing he won’t be. Surviving, that is.

“Not fond of being on this end of the blade?” I question gleefully, digging the blade in deeper until his tears escape and mix with his blood. Every ounce of rage and fear I felt for Charles while stuck outside is being poured into this revenge. Every nightmare, every memory that has come crashing into me. More and more pieces floating back to me as I stare at the three men before me. I lean down and lick up his cheek, the salty tang of his tears hitting my tongue. “I like you bleeding and whimpering,” I whisper in his ear. “Wasn’t that what you said to me that night, Dean?” I lean back and press my boot against his groin and begin to slowly apply pressure. “Oh no, silly me,” I laugh. “That was Romano, wasn’t it?”

He whimpers behind his gag and I laugh all the harder. Of course, Donahue just had them tied up on the floor. It was Kade and Ryder that corrected that, got them all ready for the long day ahead of us.

“Are you wondering why I didn’t do it that way?” I tease, pulling my knife away from him and moving on to Schroder. “I really thought about it. It was a hard decision to make if I’m honest with you.” I climb into his lap, straddling him so I can get right in his face. There are sounds of disgruntlement from behind me, but I ignore them. Of course the guys would have a problem with me being this close to him. They just don’t understand how thrilling it is for me to be in this position. Over him. Dominating him. Violating his personal space when it’s so clear he would rather be anywhere but here. Under me. Under my blade.

My knife trails over the fragile skin of his face, but I don’t draw blood. Not yet. He trembles under me all the same. Fear and humiliation battle in his eyes. It’s like my cocaine. A heady sensation rushing through me, emboldening me, driving me. So much sweeter than just regular old adrenaline.

“But we started this together, in an office, just like this one. It’s only fair to end it the same way. Don’t you think?”

I lean back and tighten my fingers around my knife, suddenly bringing it down in an arc and slamming it into the top of his shoulder. He squeals and the sound fills the room even with the gag in place. “You probably remember more than I do,” I say casually, twisting the knife in place. “How would you say we’re doing? There’s blood, tears, pain, humiliation. What’s missing?” I tap my finger against my mouth as I pretend to think. “Hmm, what does it say that even at your very worst, you’re still forgettable?”

I leave the knife in place and climb out of his lap, moving on to my final target. The worst of the bunch. The ringleader of my demise. If it hadn’t been that night, it would have only been a matter of time before he attempted to claim his little daisy. It’s too bad he only realized too late that I was always a rose, and I always had fucking thorns. Dripping poison now. Ready to annihilate him. Erase his very existence. How could I be happy with a simple death?

He’s the only one of the three not sweating, not crying, not shaking. He’s twisted, depraved, revolting, but at least he has a spine. For now. I happen to be an expert in removing those. The obsession is there, though. Brewing in those ice-blue eyes that have plagued my dreams for so long. He still craves for me, my pain, my blood, my tears. It must be agonizing to be so damn close to what he’s yearned for for so long and not be able to just reach out and touch it.

I twirl a new blade between my fingers as I stand over him. He isn’t so scary sitting there, bound and gagged. At my mercy. I cock my head as I study him. Once a long time ago, I thought Charles took after his father. I can no longer see it.

I move behind him and get my first reaction out of him. A shiver of fear. Oh, how delightful. He doesn’t like what he can’t see. I can work with that. I throw my arms over his shoulders, my chest brushing the back of his head. My blade trails down his chest, cutting through the fabric of his button down as I go. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” I whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss just above it when I finish. He tenses and shudders, and we get to see the first bit of his fight against me as he struggles against his restraints. He fought against Kade and Ry, enough that it made it fun for my two sweet psychos as they restrained him for me.

Something about their fight must have broken through his delusion though. The madman has faded back into the shrewd businessman. Cold, calculating, capable of hiding his lethal fixation. I enjoy his fight. I hope he struggles more. I hope we see that madman break through again as the last of his sanity crumbles to ashes at my feet.

“Are you finally putting the pieces together? Realize just who has hunted you down? I was worried I was going to have throw on my old cheer uniform for you depraved fucks to understand. After so long searching for me, you didn’t even recognize me when I was right in front of your face.” I can’t help but taunt them. Donahue shakes his head in denial, making me laugh. “You thinking about those cute little photos?” I ask. I grip his head in my hands and force him to look at where Declan has Charles propped up on pillows as he monitors him and tends to his wound. “You were wrong,” I whisper in his ear. “Charles has always been mine. Just like this plan was mine. Those photos were mine, but not exactly of me.” I stretch my arms in front of his face so he can see the tattoos. “As you can see. This whole thing was all mine. Your death will be mine too,” I finish with a promise. The pain isn’t enough. I want their humiliation, to degrade them, to make them lose every ounce of themselves before I finally take their lives. “Do you see it now? Or is your eyesight going in your old age?” I tap his cheek condescendingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the face you were so obsessed with seeing again will be the last one you ever see. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” I dig in the tip of the knife and draw first blood. This angle just isn’t working for me.

I toss my knife to Kade who catches it deftly. “Hold that for me for a sec.” He just laughs and shakes his head, gesturing for me to continue. Grabbing Donahue’s tie, I secure it over his eyes so I’m free to move freely while still depriving him of the security watching me gives him. He fights in the chair, but unlike some people, we know how to secure a knot.

Kade is quick to hand me my knife back when I step in front of Donahue and hold my hand out. I push his shredded shirt off his shoulders, baring his skin to me. Perfect. A blank canvas for me to work on. Now, where to start?

He doesn’t deserve to be branded with my name, not even the one he knows. Nor a rose. Something that fits him. I tap my blade against my chin as I consider a few different options before quickly discarding them.

Got it.

I get comfortable on his lap, loving his discomfort almost as much as the sounds of protest behind me once again. At least they’re leaving me be. The tip of my blade slices easily through his flesh like butter. The blood doesn’t slow me down, but I take my time. I want to make sure that every single stroke is flawless. My message needs to be clear. I’m not the same girl he once victimized. We might have been playing a game of cat and mouse for all these years, but the game has finally come to an end. With a clear fucking winner.

I lean back to admire my handiwork. It looks good, but it’s missing something. I tap a finger against my cheek, the sharp smell of blood fills my nose as my finger slicks over my skin. It takes another moment before it hits me. I know what it needs.

He wanted his daisy so damn badly, he can die with the reminder of what dug his grave. His own greed, depravity, and stupidity. I carve each petal painstakingly, each stroke of my blade in his flesh gives me more satisfaction than the last. I can’t wait for him to see.

We’ve barely even started, and that spine of his is already missing. He’s shaking and crying under my touch, the power I hold over him enthralling, addictive. The need to drag this out for as long as possible rides me. I’ll never reach quite this same high ever again. No murder will live up to these ones. To finally righting the wrongs from so many years ago.

I use his shredded shirt to wipe up some of the blood. It’s a futile effort and I throw the shirt behind me and admire my handiwork. I climb out of his lap and turn to face the others. Ryder truly had a stroke of genius when he decided to position their chairs in a circle facing each other. Like a sharing circle. How nice they get to experience not only their own demise, but each other’s as well.

“Fitting, right?” I ask, staring down the Dean first before turning my attention to Schroder. “I’m sure you guys feel the same defeat at the end of a chess game.” I tear the tie off of Donahue’s eyes. It’s wet with his tears and his eyes are already bloodshot. “Want to see?” My voice has never been perkier, not even in the height of my cheer career.

Ryder tosses me a mirror and I have no idea where he even found it. Don’t care enough to ask either. I hold it up for Donahue to see just what I carved into his chest.

Checkmate.

The little color left in his face is drained as he reads the word and stares at the daisy. I use the tip of my finger to dig into the petals of the innocuous flower. Tracing it while widening the cut. He screams behind the gag and it’s sweet fucking music to my ears.

“Your first mistake was ever thinking I was a daisy,” I confide in him. I push my finger tip deeper. “The second was thinking I could ever be yours.”

I spy a glass with the bourbon Charles must have poured earlier. Perfect. I reach out and grab the glass and lift it over Donahue’s chest. “Wouldn’t want your wound to get infected, now would we?” I jeer. His eyes widen and to my delight, shame and fear waft off him as he tenses. I draw out the moment, pouring it slowly, letting it dribble into each stroke of the letters. Each line of the petals. Sweat breaks out on his brow as he shakes in the chair, his arms straining as he tries to pull away from the burn of the liquor.

The light reflects against the crystal glass in my hand. I move it this way and that, entranced by the little rainbow lightshow. It’s empty now. “I guess you’ve earned a bit of a break,” I say casually. “Or maybe I’m just bored of you.” I test the weight of the glass in my hand before slamming it against the side of Donahue’s head with enough force to shatter it.

Glass rains down the side of his face, sticking to his skin, the remains of his clothes, his seat. Now, every time he wiggles in his seat, glass shards will embed deeper into his skin. Blood drips down from his head where I hit him and a dazed look is in his eyes. He blinks slowly as he tries to clear it. Good luck with that.

The hit was hard enough to cause a concussion. I can’t wait for the nausea to start.

“Keep him awake,” I murmur to Kade who takes up sentinel behind him. He’s probably going to enjoy that too much. I never said how to keep him awake. I think about clarifying but, eh. Oh well. Gotta let my big guy have his fun too.

What to do with the other two now? I step closer and sniff the air. I chuckle darkly. The acrid smell of urine. I’ve barely even touched them and they’ve pissed themselves. Or at least one of them has. It’s a good first step to the degradation I crave. But it’s nowhere near enough.

“Hey, Ry,” I call out, a playful lilt in my voice. He swallows a mouthful of water and raises a brow, intrigued. “What’s my favorite threat?”

A slow, cheshire grin overtakes his face.”Yeah?” I nod and the gleam in his eye can’t be described as anything other than sadistic. I love it. “I like the way you think, boss lady.” He takes another gulp of water, tapping Luca on the chest. “You do it, though. You can’t make her touch it.”

I raise my brows. Wasn’t expecting it to turn into a debate.

“I think she’s fine,” Luca argues but Ryder is already shaking his head.

“Gross, Luca. You can’t let her touch shriveled-up old dick. Come on, be a gentleman.”

Luca reels back and I stifle a laugh. “Why don’t you do it then?” he demands.

Ryder lifts his water bottle in answer. “I’m trying to drink my water, bro.” As if that is the most rational answer in the world.

What? Do I wanna… no. I don’t want to know. Not my business. I hold my blade out to Luca as he makes his way across the room.

“I’ll do it,” offers Kade. “If you don’t want to.”

Luca flips him off. “Fuck off, I’m doing it.”

I point to where Bernard is shaking in his seat. “You can do his?” I ask Kade. “We can do a little swap.”

This is the level of degradation I was looking for. Why use a normal gag when you can cut off their cocks and make them choke on each other’s? It’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to the real pain they put me through. The trauma and shame of that night.

“I want to hear them scream,” I decide as Luca steps in front of Schroder and Kade rips the gag from Bernard’s mouth.

“The lady gets what the lady wants.” Bernard’s pale face leeches of the little remaining color he had left at the malice in Kade’s words. I should have let him join in earlier. He’s been looking forward to this day almost as much as I have been. Maybe they all have been in their own ways.

Luca doesn’t bother with intimidation tactics, or even words. While Kade plays with and taunts Bernard, making him sweat and cry before even laying a finger on him, Luca drives straight to the point, making Schroder beg as he cuts through his pants. His pleas for mercy and forgiveness quickly turn into screams of horror and agony, much like my own did.

I hum as arms wrap around my waist. “Enjoy this,” Declan’s deep voice roots inside me. “But don’t get lost in it.” His calm reminder is enough to pull me back from the onslaught of terrible memories. He’s right. This is about enjoying the here and now. The last step in letting the demons of my past suffocate the life out of me.

Schroder’s screams do more to put the fear of god into Bernard than Kade’s taunting does. Schroder doesn’t even make it through the entire process as Luca’s blade carves him up. Blood covers his hands and Schroder’s lap, but none of it phases Luca as he meticulously dismembers the instrument of so much pain. He passes out just as Luca finishes and pulls the small lump of flesh free from his body.

It’s not scary, or even slightly impressive.

It’s small and soft and just a lump of skin and muscle that no longer serves any purpose.

True fear shines in Dean Bernard’s eyes as he watches Luca casually walk over to him. He doesn’t scream, or even beg for mercy, he simply cries before fainting from the fright. What an absolute fucking bitch. There’s no way he’s getting out of this that easily.

“Smelling salts,” Noah whispers as he pulls his backpack off and begins to rummage through it. As he works on getting those to wake this piece of shit back up, Kade prepares him for the same thing he just witnessed. He removes his clothes and something about that feels right too. Knowing he’s going to wake up to find himself in a state of undress he wasn’t in prior to passing out. Knowing something happened to his body while he was unconscious. Something he had no control over, something he’s unaware of. I quite like that.

The smelling salts do their job and I hold my breath as his eyes begin to flutter open. That moment of confusion, of trying to clear the haze, right before his reality sets back in, that’s what I want.

He shakes his head as his eyes begin to slowly open, adjusting to the lights in here and fuck. That look is perfection. The dazed and lost look quickly vanishes in a blink of an eye as fear and pain takes over. His shame and humiliation so potent I can almost taste it in the air. It’s beautiful.

Even as Kade gets to work, my eyes never leave Dean Bernard’s face. Each flicker of tumultuous emotions that crosses his expression soothes one of my own. I’ve seen his fear, pain, and shame already. But the despair, fury, guilt, and finally the hope that flickers out as pure torment takes over and drives every other thought from his mind is what I’ve truly been waiting for. I watch as the black creeps into his vision and know how desperately he craves to fade into the nothing again. Know how he needs the oblivion to escape from the reality I have forced onto him.

It’s a real shame I won’t let him have even that comfort.