Chapter 4

Peyton

Peyton had no idea how long it had been since she’d been taken but she figured it must’ve been days at the least. Her head throbbed and she struggled to open her eyes against the low light of the room. Her right eye was almost completely swollen shut and she winced as the movement disturbed the wounds on her face.

Wounds courtesy of the woman who had given her life.

Her entire body was in burning agony every time she breathed. Peyton was almost positive that Old Smokey and his crony had broken a few of her ribs when they decided to practice kickboxing on her already tortured body. Demi had started with simply beating her, berating her as she did so. But then she invited her dutiful employees to take their best shot and, well…they hit bullseye more than once.

The tears she’d cried to begin with were now long gone, dried up at the same time she realized she would have to shut her heart off if she wanted to survive.

And she would survive. She would make her way back to Hadina and curse the woman for ever letting her leave.

God, she missed her. She was so angry at Hadina for not following her that night. Her anger was misplaced, she knew, but it was easier to be angry than to face any of the other emotions she was feeling. Her heart hurt more than the physical pain she was in, and she didn’t have enough energy to analyze that.

“You know, it’s really a shame that you appeared back in my life. I’d happily torture anyone who was useful, but it’s extra rewarding for me that I can kill two birds with one stone: hurt Hadina Adis, and get rid of you at the same time. If only I could kill you quickly and get it over with.”

Peyton let out a low groan through her dry, cracked lips as Demi walked into the room and took a seat in front of her. She was brandishing a knife, holding it up in front of her face for the blade to catch the light. Peyton swallowed thickly as she took in the serrated edge, knowing the weapon was about to tear up her skin.

“What, you don’t have anything to say? Don’t wanna beg me to stop hurting you?”

“I don’t beg,” Peyton croaked out, her voice hoarse from screaming, “especially not for scum like you.”

Demi smiled and tapped the knife against her pursed lips. “Oh, keep talking like that. It gives me some extra fuel for what I’m about to do to you.”

“You know, it’s hard for me to believe that anyone was ever capable of putting up with you long enough to even get you pregnant. Did you convince Isaac that you were an angel or something?”

Peyton noted the way Demi’s eyes darkened at the mention of her former lover. She was absolutely sure that Demi had felt something for him, but Peyton highly doubted it was anything resembling love.

“Isaac was a means to an end. He got what he wanted out of our little dalliance.”

“He died because of you.”

“Lots of people have died at my hand or because of something I did. Isaac knew who I was and he continued to make the decisions he did. I’m not going to feel guilty because of the choices he made.”

“You’re a heartless bitch,” Peyton hissed, flinching when her lip burst open again.

“Oh darling, you have no idea. Remember how I said I was going to break you?” Peyton stared ahead as Demi continued talking, not waiting for a response. “Let me tell you something that I know will help get this process along.”

Demi crossed her legs, flipping the handle of the knife between her fingers. Peyton watched her, a loud pounding in her head as she waited for whatever fucked up revelation Demi was about to drop.

“A few years ago, Zellie Adis came to see me. She wanted to work together, she said. But the thing about the Adis family is that they all think they’re so fucking smart. She clearly hadn’t done her research properly, otherwise she’d have known that I knew her Papi and that he’d never agree to work with me. Especially not considering the last time I’d seen him, he was giving me a duffle bag of money to make sure I never contacted you again.”

Peyton felt her jaw slacken as she gawped at Demi. “ You were who Zellie wanted to work with?! Why?”

“Because she loves money and power almost as much as I do,” Demi laughed, rolling her eyes as though the answer was obvious. "But the thing is, I don’t want or need to work with people. If Adis I wanted to get rid of my mistake. Everything was fine if I never heard anything about you ever again. But then fucking Zellie thought she could use you as some sort of bargaining chip over me? I couldn’t let that happen again.”

Her stomach churned as Peyton listened, an unsettling feeling coursing through her blood. She watched Demi, unfeeling and crazy, and knew that whatever she told her next was going to be far worse than she could have imagined.

“What did you do?”

Demi sucked her teeth, tilting her head to look at Peyton. “You know, you really did look eerily alike. You and Melina—that was your sister’s name, right?”

"No! You don’t get to talk about her. Don’t you say her name!”

Demi’s answering cackle filled the air. “ Melina, Melina, Melina. The stupid girl wasn’t supposed to be home. My men were on strict instructions on what to do, had even studied images of you so they knew who they were going after. But when they got to your house, it was your sister who was home. You were too busy yapping to one of your little friends and came home late…”

“No, no, no,” Peyton whispered to herself, shaking her head. Demi was making this up—she had to be.

“It’s your own fault really. You were late; how were my men to know? They saw dear little Melina who looked just like the girl they’d seen and they did what they were being paid to do.”

“NO!” Peyton screamed, thrashing against the ropes holding her down. “I found her. She’d done it herself. I waded through the bloody water myself!”

Demi stood, pushing her chair back as she towered over Peyton. Leaning down, she pressed her lips close to Peyton’s ear so that she could whisper. "My men covered her mouth with a chloroform rag, ignoring her screams until she passed out. And then they filled the bathtub with her in it, before they took razors to her wrists and made it look like a suicide. Your perfect little Melina didn’t kill herself, Peyton. I killed her…but it was supposed to be you.”

Bile rose up in chunks in the back of Peyton’s throat and she vomited down herself, watching as it splattered onto Demi’s perfect yellow blouse. She sobbed as she continued to puke, the nightmare images of her sister’s lifeless body morphing into scenes of murder.