Library

Chapter 16

It is pretty rare that I regret my decisions. However, the moment I saw Nessa being grabbed by masked men, regret instantly filled me. My shoulder burns with the impact of whatever those guns were shooting at us.

She fought with all she had, her brass knuckles embedding themselves into the faces of anyone who got close. But she was hit with some kind of tranq dart, and all too soon, I watched her fall between Boris and me.

I'm not sure if we're all feeling this way, but while I feel tired and can't move much, I am acutely aware of the voices around us. My eyes may be closed, but I memorize everything they're saying. I knew the man I shot was one of Nessa's father's men, but the mixed accents around us now have me questioning who's really behind this.

It was clear based on the accounts we found that Nessa's father had purchased some of the children and has been funding the operation, but his direct involvement like this was not clear. He looked to be just a silent investor, now it is apparent that he is much more than that if his men are on the ground here.

How did they even know we were coming? Does he know Nessa is alive?

So many questions roll around in my mind as I feel us being jostled around. From what I can tell, we're in a large car. I try to keep track of the time, counting the seconds in my head and attempting to remember the turns based on the way my body moves. The only relief I have is that I can still feel Nessa and Boris close, as if we're all laying together in the back of a van or something.

This is just a guess, but I can smell her, which is enough to calm the thoughts threatening to consume me. Too much time passes for me to keep track, but I do hear the men around us say something about the total travel time being close to ten hours.

Do you know what it's like to be locked in your head for hours at a time? It's feckin' torture. Like for real. I have nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company as we're transported to feck knows where, and it is terrifying. Is this how people feel when I speak my mind?

I actually feel a little bit bad for them.

I mean, make no mistake, I have zero plans of changing in any way. But at least now I understand why people look at me with confusion marred with fear. I'm even a little disturbed.

As time passes, the voices surrounding me become more distinct, and that's when dread begins to creep in.

"He wants us to hurt her. Keep her isolated from them."

"How isolated?"

"Bunker number four should be fitting. I think I have an idea. The bitch deserves to pay first though."

"He'll be angry if you kill her."

A heavy scoff and what sounds like slamming on a car hood comes next. "I won't kill her. But he wants her broken. He wants a toy that will kneel."

"He needs her to be able to breathe and walk, don't forget that. I know this girl. She's going to test you. Do not let your anger cloud your judgment."

Another bang followed by some mumbling. I can't tell what they say next. My head feels like it's swimming.

Internally, I try to scream or fight, but all of my muscles feel as if they weigh a thousand pounds. All I can do is shout in my mind as I fight to hear everything they plan to do to my girl.

This is all my fault. If we had stayed back and I hadn't insisted we rush in to save the kids, we wouldn't be here.

The more I hear them discuss his plans, bile begins to rise in my throat. They try to lift my body first, but then I feel myself being dragged. I'm not that big of a guy, so if they can't lift me, then that speaks volumes about how capable these men really are.

My eyes crack open when I hear footsteps approach and I'm thrown over someone's strong shoulders. It's honestly the worst view I could have woken up to. A man's ass flexing as I am carried down a few flights of stairs.

It's kind of a nice ass though. Not as perfect as mine but definitely muscular. Feck. I told you my head was a scary place to be.

Just before they carry me into a cell, I decide to execute a plan of my own. I need to know a little more about where we are, so I move a little in the man's hold, causing him to pause. It's enough for me to jerk my body to the side and throw him off balance. The guy drops me and I quickly stand back up.

I won't have long, and based on how narrow the stairs are, there is no way I will get back up without being caught. This stupid gobshite drugged us with something nausea-inducing, so I use that to my advantage. I vomit all over the men heading towards me.

They jump back, stunned for a split second, and I take advantage of the moment and try to run. If I can see the stairs more clearly, then maybe I can find a way out of here for us.

I make it to the first step when I feel a pinch in the back of my neck. All of the strength I could feel returning is wiped away in an instant, along with my ability to stay awake any longer.

But that's okay because I know how we're going to get out of here.

???

When I wake up sometime later, I find that the three of us are all locked in cells next to each other with a glass-like barrier separating us. Nessa is in the middle and Boris is on her other side.

Nessa is tied to a chair in the center of her cell, while Boris is sitting up against the divider between them, watching her as if his stare alone could protect her.

She is still out cold, but when Boris' icy gaze meets mine, I know I'm in for it.

"Have you learned your lesson yet, Kid? Do you now understand why we make no moves until we are certain?" His eyes dart to Nessa.

I'm surprised we can hear each other so well, but then I notice the speakers and cameras in the wall. They want us to be able to hear each other.

"I fecked up, okay. I get it. Now how do we get her out of here?" I look around, needing to come up with some sort of plan so that the weight from the guilt of what I did doesn't crush me.

I know what to do once we get out of the cell, but I don't know how we're going to get out of these damned rooms.

"We are sealed in well. I was able to note a panel on the outside, just to the right of the doors before they tossed us in. Other than that, the doors are six-inch triple-bolted steel."

Oh shite. This is so much more secure than I would have thought.

"Fuck!" I roar, kicking out at the glass dividing us.

I want to break it down with my bare hands and crawl to my girl, begging for her forgiveness on my knees. I want to untie her from that chair and apologize a thousand times over while lying at her feet. But the glass doesn't budge, and neither does she.

"What did they do to her?" I ask, hoping that if Boris was able to see enough to get the other information, he might also know why she's still passed out cold.

Her hair falls around her face in waves as she leans forward, her chest evenly rising with shallow breaths.

"I think she is just taking longer to wake up, but I have been focused on her breathing."

The way Boris watches her, I have no feckin' clue how he thought he was going to be able to walk away. The man sitting less than twelve feet from me looks like the woman between us is the sun in his universe, and he is but a helpless planet that orbits around her. Trapped in her gravitational pull.

Don't say it. I know I look the same way. I was just pointing out that he thinks he can deny it.

I stand and survey the barrier between us. It's not so much glass as it is a very thick clear barrier, at least six inches. If I can get Nessa to touch it on her side, I can better gauge how thick it is. Either way, it's clear that hitting or kicking it will do nothing.

My hands are shaking as that regret threatens to consume me. I thought it was bad when I was stuck in my head alone. But seeing Nessa tied up, watching the way Boris stares at her, and knowing everything that is about to happen rests on my shoulders is all too much.

I can feel my heart racing and my jaw tightening. I can't lose it right now though. That won't help any of us. I have to keep it together, at least until we get out of here.

Just when I look up to ask Boris a question, two men walk into Nessa's cell. They take one long look at her, then glance at the two of us. Before they can blink, Boris is up on his feet with a glare that gives everyone a glimpse of the monster hiding under the surface.

One of the men steps back a little, knowing that he would be dead if this barrier weren't between us. The other, with a nasty bruise growing on his cheek, must have a really fun kind of death wish.

I recognize the timid one as Nessa's father's man, but I don't know the one who approaches me without an ounce of fear in his body.

Not a bright move, asshole.

"I'm Green, this is–,"

"Gray," I answer for him. Gray takes another wise step back, but Green's eyes harden.

"How'd you know that?"

I shrug, smirking slightly. "I could hear all of your loud mouths when you thought we were passed out in transport."

Green's jaw flexes, giving away his anger. So he must be the one with the control issue, which makes Gray the one trying to help him see reason.

Being a hothead is not going to win you any points with the bossman, Green. I think to myself. Donovan O'Neil is not a fan of big emotions unless it's him having them, of course.

My attitude backfires on me though, when instead of coming into my little cell like I was hoping for, he slaps Nessa across the face.

My fists hit the glass, betraying exactly how I feel about that while my very pissed-off little wildcat wakes up with a sneer.

"What the feck was that?" she asks. Her eyes connect with Gray, and he gives her a half-hearted smile. One I want to rip from his face.

Instead of acknowledging him, she looks at Green. They hold eye contact for a second before she leans her head back just to launch a wad of spit at Green's face, right over the bruise in the perfect shape of her brass knuckles.

The saliva runs down his chin as all of our hearts stop beating.

Why did she have to do that? She could have played weak and this would have gone so much better for all of us. But I guess my girl gave up on that role the moment she separated herself from her father.

I can see Boris, the pained expression he wears likely mirroring mine. Gray's jaw drops in shock. A devious smile spreads across Nessa's face as Green wipes his face slowly with a gloved hand, staring at it in surprise.

We all know what's about to happen. Even her. But it doesn't make it any easier to watch when he lands two hits to her stomach and one to her face.

I can see her holding back a scream, not wanting to show weakness. He pulls out her brass knuckles from his pocket and slides them on with a gleam of pure hatred. Then he hits her again. And again. On the fourth round, she finally lets it loose, but Green just laughs.

"Oh just wait till you hear what we have planned for you, little whore."

He squats down, getting right in her face. Blood drips from her nose and mouth, but she tilts her chin up defiantly. Every muscle in my body strains against this glass, willing it to break under the force, but it refuses.

"We have orders for them to watch until we break you." He presses his fist to her stomach, causing her to wince in pain as he slowly adds pressure.

"Then, just when you think you can't take any more…" he trails off before standing and smacking her across the face again, this time in a demeaning gesture.

My fist hits the glass so hard I swear I hear a crunch somewhere. Green only grins at my reaction while fisting Nessa's hair. His eyes flash with a sort of deranged insanity that even I feel afraid of.

"I will hold a gun to this pretty little head of yours, and watch in delight as you get to kill them ."

The blood drains from my face as Nessa's eyes go wide.

"That's right." He laughs in her face, darting his tongue out to lick a path up her cheek while she tries to jerk away from his hold.

He giggles, gripping her tighter until tears threaten to fall from her eyes. "They get to watch you take beating after beating until you're ready to pull the trigger on them."

Green tosses her head forward as he lets go and begins clapping in delight over his plan.

"No," Nessa says as she raises her head defiantly. Her nose is dripping with blood and tear tracks run down her face, but she stays firm.

Green clutches his hands into fists, his expression hardens. I don't want her getting hurt. I don't want him to have this power over her. He shouldn't be able to use us against her like this.

I don't think I can survive that. I don't think I can even survive another minute of this.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," I tell her earnestly. "He doesn't hold the power here. You do. You can do it now and save yourself the pain."

She doesn't even look at me, she just continues to glare at Green even while pain twists her face. My chest constricts with so much agony and sorrow I don't know how I'll be able to live with this.

"Fuck you," Nessa spits. I can't tell if it is directed towards Green or me. Either way, I hit the glass again just to show her I heard that and I swear she smiles a little bit.

And while I was focused on her, I stopped paying attention to the threat in the room. When Green grabs a knife from his pocket, my stomach drops, nausea churning in my gut as he snags the neckline of her shirt and tears one side down the sleeve.

"Oh, what's this?" he coos, tapping the sharp edge on her shoulder that is now exposed. It is just one of the marks I left on her when I claimed her.

When he begins cutting into the flesh, flaying it so that the mark is removed, her screams are deafening. I will never forget that sound for as long as I live. Not just the volume or the pitch, but the way my chest crumbles to pieces as it echoes through me.

It's all made worse when Green smiles down at her and licks the bruised skin he stole from her before tossing it towards me.

It hits the glass right near my face, leaving me struck in horror. My limbs actually begin to shake when Nessa locks eyes with me and sees my mark cut from her flesh. She is mine, in every way possible, and he cannot take that away.

I won't let him.

I fall to my knees, pounding on the glass with all I have. There has to be a way to get out of here. Nothing is fully secure. Over and over, my fists meet the unforgiving glass until they're dripping in crimson blood. I'm not making a dent even though I'm numb to the pain, solely focused on wanting, no, needing to get to her.

With a yell, I grab the bucket from the floor and toss it across the room. Some of the stone crumbles to the ground between the wall and the glass, making a dusty mess on the floor as a red mist seems to cover my vision.

The scene before me reminds me all too much of the past, and my mind traps me in the memory of the last time I failed Nessa.

The grass sways around me as I see Enya enter the property. She sneaks in through a window, and I train my scope on her. Ronan O'Brien, the leader of the rival Irish mafia and Nessa's soon to be husband, senses her immediately. I wish I knew a way to call and warn her, tell her what a stupid idea all of this is, but I don't even have a feckin' phone.

I watch as she sits in the chair across from his desk, crossing her legs and giving him the fakest smile I have ever seen from her. I've known this girl for eight years, and I know every expression she's capable of, even the fake ones.

I see Nessa's car pull up to the drive, and I debate on ending everything right now. It would cause a lot of problems for the mafias in Ireland, but maybe in the long run it would be for the best.

But then, the man who murdered my parents steps out of his car behind her, and I throw away that idea because all I would be doing is giving him more power.

You could kill them both . The voice in my head whispers.

I could try at least. I've not trained for long with a sniper rifle, and it's only been a few months of me watching Nessa while she believed I was dead. I haven't had enough training with the gun to get a shot out on two mafia leaders in one night.

So instead of releasing the trigger and risking everyone's life in that room, I turn to watch as Nessa and her father walk through the doorway. That's when the worst thing I could ever have imagined happens. Without warning, Ronan stands and shoots Enya in the stomach.

My eyes don't process what they're seeing as Nessa's father begins to yell at Ronan, and Nessa gathers her sister in her arms, screaming as she tries to put pressure on her abdomen.

But it's no use.

Every fiber of my being wants to race down this hill and go to her, to them both. But Ronan and Donovan begin to get into it, and I worry for Nessa's safety in the room.

In all my life, I have only ever loved two people outside of my family, Nessa and Enya. I have loved Nessa like a life-long partner, one you don't ever want to be forced to spend a day without, one you wish to spend an entire lifetime learning everything that brings them joy.

With Enya, it was different though. I felt protective over her as one would a sister. I wanted to be the shield that stood next to Nessa in front of her.

And now she's bleeding out on the floor in front of her sister because I didn't take the shot when I had the chance.

But now I will.

With my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I move my scope that was trained on Nessa and Enya as she holds her dying sister in her arms, to the man that caused all of this.

Just when I have a clear sight, I flick off the safety and the other wraps around the trigger, meeting the tension. But my body knows what I need to do.

Sorrow fills my chest, an emptiness now so prevalent I don't know if I will ever be able to ignore it.

Then, I pull the trigger.

My head rests between my legs, my hands covering my ears so that the only voice I hear is my own.

"It can't be happening again. It can't. I can't fail her again."

My mind spirals into a violent tornado, whipping me around in circles until I no longer know which way is up and which is down. All I know is that my past is haunting me, hunting me, and I don't know how to escape it.

I'm jolted back to the present by Boris' yelling.

"Kid, get up! We have not failed her yet! Get up!"

I didn't realize I had fallen to the floor, or that tears were falling from my eyes as I lay crumpled on the ground. Nessa's screams ring loudly around me, threatening to pull me back into the raging storm in my head.

Just when I think I can't take it anymore, that the agony of witnessing the woman I love might push me over the edge into a darkness I won't be able to come back from, Green stops.

I try to hold onto all of that as Green leaves the room and Gray unties Nessa from the chair before tossing her on the cot in the back. The doors shut behind them, and silence fills the space around us for the first time since I woke up.

Finding a way out is imperative. I glance around the room, noticing the stone that fell from the wall where the bucket hit it. It's not significant, but I wonder if there is a way to get more.

As Green and Gray left, I noted that the doors bolt into the stone, which I could weaken over time by chipping away at the foundation that surrounds it. I doubt we have enough time for that to be our way out, but the chunks of stone that fell have me thinking.

Boris stares at me, seeming to see that my mind is forming a plan as I take the bucket from the ground and begin hitting the stone again. More chunks fall this time, bigger ones.

Will I be able to get her out of here?

All too soon, sweat coats my body as I realize that the glass is embedded into the stone deeper than I would be capable of breaking through. Besides, whoever is watching the cameras would likely notice after a while and stop me from making too much progress.

I heave a sigh as I toss the bucket that is now snapped and broken to the other side of the room.

That's when I realize, I might not be able to dig a hole large enough for me to get out. But maybe I can use the stones that have fallen to break apart the wall near the door and access the back of the keypad that controls the locks.

The cameras can't see that area of the wall. It would be easy to hide the hole if needed with some of the pieces that have fallen already.

I turn away from the cameras, not wanting to give anything away with the look on my face. Boris notices and nods slightly as his shoulders begin to relax.

That's right, Old Man. This kid has a plan.

Nessa rolls over and groans as she sits up. Pangs of guilt threaten to have me breaking before they can break her.

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart." I say, my voice low and defeated.

Nessa shakes her head, her red hair falling around her bruised face.

"Don't, Killer. Don't do that."

"Do what?"

She looks up at me, her eyes that are swollen and mottled with a purple hue meet mine. "Do not apologize."

"But, this is my fault," I choke.

"It is mine too," Boris says, taking me by surprise. "I should have stayed outside. I would have seen them coming in. I could have warned you."

Again, Nessa shakes her head. "Please, both of you, just… just stop." She takes a shaky breath, her ribs likely extremely bruised. "I followed you, Cillian. I knew it could have been a trap and I followed."

She turns to Boris. "You came to check on us. You had no idea they would ambush us. There was no sign of anyone else at play here, much less my feckin' father."

She settles her body against the stone wall for support, a heavy sigh leaving her lips.

"If anyone is to blame here, it's my father and his men."

I nod in agreement, but Boris is out of the loop. It looks like Nessa is going to pass out if she keeps talking though, so I step in.

"These are his men. I knew Gray, but I didn't know Green. He looks like a special kind of crazy. I also saw the track marks on his arms. I didn't think Donovan was one to hire men who are insane and addicted to heroin, but I guess times have changed."

Nessa nods, then tries to pull her hair back. There is a cut on her forehead, dripping blood down into her eye.

"Your forehead is bleeding," I say.

Her brow pinches, and she slowly turns her head. "What?"

"Your forehead," I gesture to her face. "It's bleeding." She looks down and tears off a piece of her shirt, wincing with each strained movement.

"Well, thanks for the feckin' heads up, Captain Obvious. I hadn't noticed the blood flowing down my face and into my damn eye." A huff leaves her as she dabs the cut, then applies pressure while she rolls her eyes. "Thank goodness you're here to help save me. Honestly, what would I do without you?"

I'm torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to slap her. I know she is putting on a tough act so that we can't see how much she's hurting right now. So, I play along, for her.

"Well, for starters, you'd still be bleeding. Duh."

And she calls me Captain Obvious.

Boris shoots me a venomous look and Nessa side-eyes me, but after a second, we can't contain our laughter. And just like that, there is a little bit of light in all this darkness that surrounds us.

All too soon, silence descends over us again. I don't want to give away my plan yet in case they're watching. So I do my best to communicate it without saying too much.

"Hey, Old Man." Boris looks up at me. "I've made a mess here." I grab the rocks that have fallen and toss them off of the mattress and into the corner by the door that the camera won't be able to see.

"You sure have," he says with a slow nod. "Looks like you'll have to clean it up before we get some rest. I do hate it when you're a slob."

I roll my eyes, standing and dusting myself off while picking up the thin mattress from the floor and shaking it out. I survey the mess before tossing it back over by the blind spot as well. It will likely still show some of me while I lay on it, but I think I can get away with what I need to for now.

"The two of you have to hold on," Nessa says. I know she can hear us hurting too, just in a different way. "You have to keep it together until Evie can get to us."

I nod, looking down at the bracelet still on her wrist. Boris told me it was a gift to her and that it has a tracker inside of it. It's likely no one will be able to get a signal down here, but if she or Boris could sneak it into the pocket of one of the guards, we might get lucky.

I lean into the wall by her, trying to cover my face to appear flustered while I whisper, "Get the tracker on one of them."

Her eyes light up and she nods. It wasn't loud enough for Boris to pick up over the speakers, but they must have their own language because a few minutes later, Nessa taps her bracelet and makes a gesture to the door. Boris must seem to understand.

Nessa drifts off to sleep and Boris watches her carefully while I try to calm my racing heart and solidify this plan. We're going to make it out of here, or at the very least I will ensure that she does. Even if I have to sacrifice myself to make sure of it.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.