Hardin
I am good at reading people. Extremely good as a matter of fact. More so because, I have been taught to do so properly , from a very young and tender age. I have been taught to peel off people's word mask and strip their reality naked.
Well also a little bit runs in our family, so you can also call it manufacturing default, if you want. But yeah, there's that.
In our world, people lie so much that it can get tough to survive, if you don't learn to read the original face from their sheild of lies. You will just get trampled over if you cannot sieve out the bullshits. So when that motherfucking leech Antonio François, kept stuttering at every answer and explanation to the interrogations, I knew he wasn't the kind of innocent, he was trying to show. I knew he wasn't actually a saint, who was being wronged. He wasn't the victim between two powerful forces.
Infact he was the exploiter here. He was not allowing the inhumanity to cease even when he could. He could choose to be on my side. But, Infact he was extorting from this opportunity for his own sake and basking in the war fire between the Vultures and our jealous opponents who has been the bane to our existence since the beginning of time.
A kitten.. He stuttered. And I suppressed the urge to laugh at his extremely stupid lie.
Was he fucking kidding me? He wanted me to believe that the helpless kicks and urgent knocks from the other side of the wooden door was of his pet...
A pet? He reckons that I am
a fool, and that too that low graded? Pathetic arse.
Well, without sparing his utter bullshit a mere importance I marched towards the door in lond sure steps. The second steady knock when I was almost near the door, equally filled with hope, but despair was a straight give away that it wasn't a fucking cat.
Somehow the thought of a possible human being helpless and faultless, rile up me up more, extracting more reason to not let François go free.
So when I actually knock down the chipped, cheap door off the hinges with a kick of my foot, the absence of a kitten, does not surprise me. My heart races amplifying the previous anger when I find the presence of a woman in the further corner of the dark store room. My eyes concentrating on the feeble soul lying on the floor. Her features slowly illuminating with the light flooding from the parking basement.
That mother fucker!!
Face, facing the dry wall, Hands tied. The body twistedly lying on the floor as if discarded, the dress that probably is till below the knee has hiked up revealing pale upper thigh.
My eyes burn at the vulnerability of the poor woman. My palms curl up in fists and my jaws clench up in vexation as I scan her and she reflects the sins of Antonio François.
Shutting my eyes carelessly to grant my eyes relief from the view infront of me I bite down on my lip harshly. An attempt to not kill that wanker. I turn straight back.
" So this is your kitten, huh??" I grit out then opening my eyes I zero it down on a very pale faced François. I am internally laughing at his audacity.
" Aurther, get her help.. " I bark in between, while my gaze stay focused on the criminal. The actual criminal who thinks treating women like this is not a crime.
As much as I am sympathetic towards the woman, I cannot touch her while she is on the floor, like this. It's already making me comfortable, bringing back horrendous memories. I cannot begin to imagine the emotional trauma she is being put into. But I am not that warm to grant a victim that kind of comfort. Also I feel somehow it's not right to look at her while her dress is hiked up. Uncomfortably for her, which I doubt she is going to appreciate if too many men stare at her ....
Arthur whooshes past me, not wasting a moment, because even he knows the gravity of the situation. The dark monstrous side of François has been stripped and I will not spare him.
" Tell me François, what breed of kitten is this... Huh?" I ask while I hear the women whimper and hiss as Arthur keeps assuring her that she is safe, safe now that we found her... I try and stay focused on François. Or else my mind keeps drifting back to the news year's eve, three year ago.
Where Theresa was al_.
No no. Don't Hardin..
It's tough to not beat the shit out of François while waiting for his man to show up with his laptop and luggages... So I continue taunting him while my men have already tied his hands. He looks scared, exactly how it should after the inhuman ways he inflicted on innocents.
" Or would you like to tell the entire thing, when Aurther gets his hands ov-"
" Ha..ah din.. "
Low. Feeble. Pained. Scared. All clear in that one barely audible whimper.
But it's clear like crystal in my ears. Clear enough to stop my rant, stop my lungs, stop my heart, stop my mind, even stop the time, all at once.
My blood freezes in a flashes and my heart catches fire like on gasoline . My minds starts a marathon while my souls stops entirely at the voice. My senses explode at the voice I wouldn't forget, even in my graves if I were put in it...
But how??
No, no, no!!
It cannot be...
It shouldn't be...
No no no...
Fuck no...
"Hardin..." The second time beckoning is cracked and choked and followed my a whimper, so I whirl. And for a few moments which feels like hours I forget to breathe. My entire brain forgets how the respiratory system works. My eyes strain confirming the person, ready to fall out of the socket.
Theresa.
Theresa Lynn Young.
My Tess.
She is here.
It isn't my imagination. It isn't some joke. It isn't a dream. It isn't any other parallel universe.
It's reality. She is here. After running in my mind. After parading through my thoughts. After flooding every drop of my blood with her essence . After stamping my heart as her permanent real estate and staying there for three years and more. She is here.
But on the floor...?
I take a moment to take in her appearance...
My eyes fleeting to Arthur, for a brief second, who is throwing away a tape, which was probably used to seal her mouth.
Then whirl back at François.
He had Theresa captivated?
My subconscious informs me with a smack in my stomach, which I realised moments back at the pained call.
I gyrate back, blinking like a maniac. Hoping this isn't true. Hoping it's a nightmare.
But no. There she lays, cold on the floor. Shivering. Petrified, Scared. Breathing in and out heavy, but freely. Arthur hastily untieing the rope of her hands. Her eyes rolling back and forth , trying to gain and stay in focus .
And before I even know it, my knee slam on the floor, because they give out. My mind going haywire trying to wrap around the fact that Theresa, my Theresa is another victim of François. She was kidnapped, kept in chains like an animal, mouths sealed.
No... No.... Christ!!!
What else did he do??
It dawns on me brutally that she could have been killed by him, if she didn't knock. If I never came here, if I left believing that it was a kitten.
He fucking wanted to keep her, in disguise of an animal? No....
Finally focusing, she looks up to meet my eyes and I drown. I drown deep with no life support in her ocean eyes. After being deprived for years. I soak, drench and quench in her orbs. Her lips quivers, her already red face, emitting humiliation and pain and trauma. Tears stream from her eyes, like broken damn.
Finally unrestrained, she stretches her shaking hands towards me and a choked sob tears from her throat. " Hardin..."
That breaks my my stupor and melt my frozen gut.
" Noh..." I stutter and I crawl like a wounded animal myself, towards her. While my own eyes blurs out with forming tears.
In mere seconds I have settled in front of her and pulled her on my lap. Arther out of the way, obviously recognizing her as well .
Violent tremors takes over her body as she breaks, curled up in my arm.She cries with her face shoved in on my chest. Clutching my coat for dear life. I wrap her in my arms covering her from the entire world, not caring anything for a moment, other than Theresa. My Theresa.
She looks up at me while still shaking after a moment . " Ah.. I... I... heard you... Sa-save me....P-p-please..." She beg helplessly through cracked and hoarse voice. Pain like burning skewer lodged straight in my chest, poisons my entire system. It breaks me, burns me a thousand times seeing her like this.
It is then her face and every details come into my view, properly.
Hairs scattered like they have been tampered. Face tear-strained, swollen, pale. Eyes red and filled with terror and trauma.
What pours acid on my eyes are the grazes on left forehead and temples.
They hit her..
"They hit you?" I state with a question...Volcanic rage seeping in through every cell , along with idea of all possible things they put her through.
She doesn't answer instead she shove her face back in my chest and cries harder, trying to mask the humiliation...
My body stiffens, and I feel anger I never felt before crashing in on me like tornado...
I will kill that motherfucker with my own bare hands.
So I pull away a little from her, murmuring, "I'll be right back."
"Nohhhh" She screams. Clutching on me tighter. She curls up more in on my lap and breaks in panic.... "No no. Please... I am begging.... Don't.... Don't leave... Not this time.... Don't leave..... Please-Ahhh... Please... No.... No... No"
I halt immidiately.
I swoop her in tighter and I am swarmed with rage towards François, for what they and put her through.
Don't leave... Not this time..
A kick straight to my gut and I am swamped and trampled with guilt. The image of her begging years back break me some more, if I already wasn't dust. Helpless, terrified and weak.
Not how she was not supposed to be after I disappeared from her life for good.
" I am not... I promise.. I am not Tess..." I assure her, my lips pressing down on her head in it's own accord...
She relaxes tremendously with that. She continues with the whimpers and heaves soaking my coat with tears. We stay there undisturbed for Christ know how long, while the entire universe around us dissapears momentarily.
With her still on my lap I ask Aurther to help me out of my coat when I feel her shiver again. He does it wordlessly, carefully slipping my arms out one by one. Trying not to move Theresa who is still melting down.
" Will you let me put this on you love?" I ask her gently in spite of the fire burning my throat at her sight.
She stares up at me for a moment, in haze, then shivers. But she nods with heavy swollen eyelids.
I place her back on the floor making her flinch. I, quickly stand up and help her up on her shaky feet just to wrap her, before I can carry her to the car. Arther passes me the coat, all in silence. I put the coat on her, as gently as possible.
She hisses and flinches through out with hazy eyes. More when my hand slightly touches the side of her neck. A deep animalistic purple bruise has me raging like a bull. But I clench my teeth to the point of breaking it. While I keep Theresa steady and button her up with more gentle hands.
Once all done, Theresa sighs and leans on me. The moment of anxiety has passed and her body is giving out. Her physical, mental and emotional trauma has her drained.
I wrap one of my arms around her and beckon Arthur. He stands in front of me in a flash. I raise my hands and hovers my thumb on her face, around her bruises.
" Kill everyone... " This get Theresa's opening and closing eyes, strain to focus on me.
" Sir." Arthur acknowledges without a word....
I swipe away a hair tendril gently, which was sticking to her forehead, looking uncomfortable for her grazes... " Let LA know, the reality, that we do not spare these men who extort innocents.."
"Sir.."
Theresa widens her eyes and her lips parts.
" Sir, François?" Aurther asks, knowing me.
I stare at her eyes and let myself be armored with her pain.
" Chop his fingers. One by one..." And she gasps.. "But keep him alive for me..." I say reminding myself the bruise on Theresa's throat
Her eyes roll back and she passes out right in my embrace.
Her passing out does not come as a shock. With the high possibility of her being drugged, her brutal humiliation and exhaution, she urgently needs treatment.
I cradle her up and walk out the room. Passing by a very confused François. He probably doesn't know what's waiting for him. Who he dared a touch.
" Mr. Scott... Let me-" He starts when I walk past him. But I cut him off.
" Ofcourse I will let you explain..." He immediately leaves a sigh of relief but I continue," You will keep explaining everything you have done, until you yourself beg us to kill you... " I spit out and walk away till my car ignoring his confused and terrorized pleas.
Jason must have seen me arrive from a far with a woman on my arms because he jumps out and open the back door for me. But the moment he actually recognises Theresa, he pales out like a ghost.
" Fucking Christ..." He mutters, astounded at the situation...
"How??" He asks while I place her in.
I straighten up and looked at him... I inside ready to burst and melt, because Jason isn't just anyone random. He knows me. So I bite down on my quivering lips and blurring eyes and shake my head, unable to convey all the situations and emotions.
He nods...
" It's ok... Get in.... Get in..."
" Get me a docter at the hotel..."
" Stop, just get in. I will arrange everything..." He says pushing me inside.
I get in and he shut the door behind me. I pull and place Theresa's head and rest it on my lap.
I left Theresa at that hospital three years ago because I was angry on her. I was angry on her because she killed the child so quickly. I was angry on her because she went to Zed. I was furious.
But like always my temper melted soon. I missed her, every moment since then.
But I never went back to confront her because a part of me always knew that she will be better off without me. She will be better off alone than too have to put her life on risk constantly because of my world. She would have been better with someone who can give her a normal love story. Not some crime thriller drama, where she would be on the edge constantly. She would have never been completely safe.
Violence isn't for her. She is pure and good. She deserves a life full of kight and happiness. Weapon less. Painless.
So finding her here in the clutch of another monster is like a slap straight on my face. Kick to my gut.
What the fuck was she even doing in LA? Wasn't she supposed to be in Boston, like Ben said to me?
Fucking Ben.
Nothing goes as I want it to go, for even once. It's like she is a danger magnet ready to attract problem weather I exist or I don't.
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Take love, ND.