He doesn’t respond because it’s not a question. We pull up to the sidewalk and we both jump from the car before it has time to stop. Making our way inside the building, I find the security guard sitting at his post reading The Evening Standard. Reading a fu*king newspaper.
“Has anyone gone up to Ms. Carmel’s apartment?”
Dragging his eyes from the article to me, he shakes his head.
“None that I’ve seen. I’ve been here all day,” he responds calmly. But then again, there is a back entrance which is part of the fire escape. If he’d taken his eye off the camera for even a couple of minutes, he wouldn’t have seen someone come and go. Knowing that Bennett’s dad is in on this only makes me angrier. He’d have access to this whole building with a snap of his fingers.
Heading to the lift, I push the button for the car. Every second that ticks by has my body aching, thrumming with vengeance and revenge. My blood is hot, boiling like heated lava ready to erupt.
“That fu*ker needs to die. If he set one hand on her,” I hiss at Bennett, who’s vibrating with emotion beside me. As the doors slide open, I’m already inside pushing the button for the seventh floor when Bennett steps inside.
The car inches up and so does my blood pressure. I can’t deal with this. I’m like a grenade. Ready to blow. And I’m going to blow so hard all over that sick fu*k he’s not going to know what hit him. But killing him is going to be too fast for him. He needs to suffer.
Bennett’s voice rips me from me daydream of blood. “Meet us here. We need your special services.”
“Who was that?” I question as he hangs up and we step into the hallway.
“A friend. He knows how to clean up a mess.”
I’ve always known my best friend had a few nasty acquaintances, but now I know it’s true. The door to her apartment is closed, and there are no sounds coming from it. I knock twice and wait.
Nothing.
Not a fu*king sound.
“Step back,” Bennett utters in a tone that tells me I better move or I’ll be on my way out as well. He lifts his leg and kicks the door in without breaking a sweat. The living room is empty but what has my senses heightened is her phone lying on the floor near the sofa. The water glass that’s shattered on the floor and the sound of nothingness.
No whimpering, no crying, just nothing.
Rushing into the bedroom I find it empty. She’s just fu*king gone. Adrenalin kicks in, racing through me like a drug, coursing through my veins, alighting it with fierce urgency.
“Yeah, they’re not here. Can you track it?” He’s quiet for a little while, then responds again. “Good. Send me the location immediately. Can you get there?”
Walking through the apartment, her scent is everywhere. That soft, orange blossom perfume she loves. That I love. I do love her. My heart is full and it’s because of her.
Nothing in my life has ever mattered enough. It’s been an ongoing chore to feel anything. But when she walked into my life, into my mind, she stepped into my heart as well.
“We found her.”
Glaring at my best friend, he offers a smirk. It’s not a cheeky one. It’s one filled with revenge and satisfaction.
“Then what the fu*k are we waiting for?” Grabbing her phone, I pull the door shut, well, as much of it that will shut. We head to the stairwell and race down to the ground floor. Thank fu*k for my cardio every day.
Ella
Cold. I feel icy cold. It hurts to open my eyes, but I try anyway. It’s really dark. I’m naked, that much is clear, but it’s the familiar ache between my legs that shoots fear through me. Did he hurt me? I suppose there’s nothing I could do to stop him, because as soon as my eyes open, I realize why my muscles are aching.
He’s got me attached to a spreader bar. My wrists are cuffed along with my ankles to one black metal bar that has my ass and p*ssy offered to him like an offering. A sacrifice to the Devil himself.
I’m no longer afraid. I’ve endured pain before. I was strong enough to escape him once. I’ll do it again. Somehow, I’ll find a way to get out of this and I’ll make sure he feels pain. Not just any pain, but I want to watch him bleed.
I don’t know how much time has passed, but Carter hasn’t found me yet.
It’s too dark to see anything and I have no way of telling where I actually am.
“My Snowflake is awake. You look beautiful like that. Only your best features are visible.” A voice that sends ice running through my veins comes from somewhere behind me.
“Why are you doing this? Why hurt me again?”
A dark chuckle is the only response I get. I didn’t think he’d be able to explain why he’s such a sick fu*k, but I won’t stop until he lets me go or kills me. I feel the heat of him behind me. The rough, calloused fingertip that runs down my spine has me shuddering in revulsion that once again I’m at this man’s mercy.
“You know why. Because you’re my whore.”
A shiver of anticipation wracks my body. I know the pain that’s about to befall me. Can I survive this? Will Carter and Bennett find me? Where am I? There are too many questions running through my mind.
I hear clinking of metal and panic sends a shiver through my body. The ache in my legs and arms has me biting down on my bottom lip until I taste the warm metallic flavor of blood. My stomach rolls as I heave, but nothing comes out.
“Stop acting like a fu*king child. You’re grown up now. You have a man who fu*ks you, surely. Or are there two of them, whore? I told you all those years ago, Snowflake, you’re mine. Always will be.”
Suddenly pain prickles my skin, like tiny needles being pushed into my back, along my spine. I don’t know what it is, but something tells me this is going to hurt worse than I remember.
Slowly heat trickles down my spine and I feel numb. Like he’s shot something into my blood stream because now I can’t feel hot or cold or pain.
“Now to test this sweet little hole I’ve missed so much.”
Without another word, I’m filled. Ripped open. Torn in half. Whatever you want to call it, that’s how I feel. Still there’s numbness throughout my body, but I know he’s penetrated me. I can’t say for sure with what. My head is spinning at a million miles a second.
“Please.”
“You can keep begging. You can scream. fu*k, I’d love it if you scream. I love hearing those little whimpers. They make my fu*king dick hard.” A swat on my ass splinters over my skin and the feeling comes back with a vengeance. Heat trickles over my spine nearing my ass. I tense, but it’s no use. I’m tied up so tight that any movement is halted by the metal cuffs around my ankles and wrists.
“Feel that, little one. Do you remember when you had me spill my coffee over my shirt?”
The question has my mind racing through memories of when I was a child. A teenager eager to please him. And I remember vividly what happened that night. I was sixteen. It was after he’d first assaulted me.