****READ AUTHORS NOTE FOR NEW UPDATE DAYS****
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I awoke chained to a metal slab. I was like a chained animal in his eyes. Rabid. Ferocious in some aspects. A danger to all around me.
The cool metal chilled my skin as I shivered before I tried to leap up and inspect my body. The restraints yanking me back down and leaving angry red marks on my wrists and ankles. I bit my lip at the instant amount of pain and dull aching surrounding my back and my head. It felt like someone was lighting fireworks off in my brain and shooting them at the edge of my skull.
I tried to look at myself again, slowly lifting my head to see my body still clothed in my dress. It was tattered and dirty at the bottom. Holes left in the beautiful silk. I was caked in sweat and dirt, feeling the grime stick to my skin.
"Looks like someone finally woke up," I heard Alex say before stepping into the light so I could see him. But I was confused. He was supposed to be in a wheelchair still. His leg could be nowhere near healed from a stab wound in the middle of his fucking leg.
"How did you heal so fast?" I asked bewildered. Goddammit wrong question Marina, you should be threatening him right now. The devil inside my head said as the sensible side responded. I'm collecting information on them not trying to assassinate their small amount of pride.
I needed a new head.
"Helloooo, anyone in there?" He asked as he loomed over me, making me attempt to jump back. The cuffs dug deeper into my appendages, forcing me to close my eyes in pain. "Looks like the bump to the head was a little more than a bump," He said tsking with his tongue.
"Anyways to answer your question sex kitten: when you are an important owner of a night club, you tend to have access to many more medical advantages than the average person. Unfortunately for you, your bruised tailbone and concussion will not be treated today," He said with a savage look before stepping back and forcing me to lift my head. The back throbbed with the need to rest, but I refused to slip into the dark hole again. Because I might not come out.
"I'll pay you any sort of money if you let me out. I'll kill myself for you if I can just get a goodbye. I will become part of your mafia, as long as this can end and you swear to leave everyone else alone," I said negotiating with him. I was desperate. I didn't have much longer with the fog from earlier starting to creep back in (REFERENCE TO THE CUCKOO'S NEST WHAT UP I HATED THAT BOOK).
"Oh kitten you really don't get it do you?" He asked as I gave him a blank stare, indicating my lack of knowledge.
"This is revenge for what you have done to me and the rest of my fucked up family," He said scolding me like a child. But like a psychopath would, he soon perked up and grinned at me maliciously.
"There's one thing you could do," He said as I looked at him eagerly, willing to play into his game as unconsciousness seeped at the edge of my vision. I rested my head down but forced my eyes to stare at the blaring light. Stay up, stay up. Whether you die from your concussion or from fighting this jackass is up to you.
"You would have to kill Kyle and take the blame for it," He said making me freeze. I closed my eyes to try and slip into unconsciousness but failed as I felt a sharp stab through my forearm. I knew I had been stabbed. I could feel it tear threw sinew and muscle. A giant hole left gaping in my arm.
I screamed like it was my last scream as pain washed over my body, it going completely still. My brain went into overload and I begged myself not to look up at it. Not to see it.
But I didn't have much self-control. "Look at me kitten," Alex said hovering above me as I tensed my good shoulder. The other one numb from blocking out the pain, my nerve sensors overloaded.
I opened both eyes slowly to see his creepy grin. "You are fucking psychotic," I said before spitting into his eye. He jumped back afterwards and slowly wiped the salivia from his eye. If I couldn't kill him then I guess I could give him an eye infection.
"You fucking bitch. You don't get any chances, you're staying here for the rest of your goddamned life," He said tearing a huge slit up the side of my dress in anger.
My conscious was desperately trying to slip away, to try and get away from this sheer madness. To stop feeling the pain as blood dripped from my veins onto the table. My ears honed into the steady sound. It was the only thing keeping me from drifting into a sleep I knew I wouldn't survive. But I didn't fight 20 years of my life to die from a concussion. I fought twenty years of my life to die from a gunshot.
"You son of a bitch I'll die a martyr so I can fuck you up when you go to hell," I rasped out making him angry enough to end my misery. His eyes turned from a mild anger to a raging madness. He reached in the back of his jeans and pulled out a gun. The initials of his father were etched into the side and somehow I knew my mother died from that gun.
Do you ever get that feeling when you know something you shouldn't? Like you have a premonition about something bad about to happen? I was getting that feeling as I stared at that gun.
I was ready in a sense. Now that I could accept the fate of my death from a gunshot, just like my mother; I could die fighting for my mafia like she had.
"I'm mad Marina. I'm pretty fucking mad. I wouldn't say anything more," He said with a deep threat as I practically begged for him to shoot the bullet into me. End my misery. Don't make me go through carrying a bastard child only to be tortured for my life afterwards. Just kill me now. Stop threatening me you pussy and just shoot me. My subconscious came up with, making me almost laugh from my own lame comebacks.
"Oh kitten you really need to work on your subconscious staying inside your head," He said while he unbuckled his belt.
NO NO NO. I couldn't die raped. I couldn't. The excruciating pain, the crying, the screams. I couldn't die from that. Just the gunshot.
He loaded the gun and held it up to my head as he hopped on top of the table. A single tear leaked from my eyes as I closed them, willing myself to even die before this happened. The thought of the gunshot leaving my mind. My throat tightened as I felt him slowly lift my dress up, exposing my legs and garter where my gun should have been. Where my gun is.
"Bad kitten, you couldn't even remember you had a gun with you," He said as he removed the shiny handgun. On the handle it had my last name Baracada, but Sanguis was next to it, taking its rightful place.The bullets all etched with my infamous initials, the only sign that I had killed someone.
He reached up and set the gun down above my hand and out of reach. But not far enough. He was too busy poking and prodding at me like an animal would with a flea infested relative. I focused on ignoring his grimy fingers and instead on the revolting pain shooting up my arm. The echoing pain inside my head. The deep throb of my tailbone. I focused on my fingers instead of his forced ones as he attempted to arouse me. The tips of my fingers could brush the handle. I can get it.
I have no choice but to get it. Failure not being an option. His degrading fingers began to pull down at my cleavage, making me halt my movements so I couldn't be caught. I squeezed my eyes shut, but forced the fog away from my conscious. You're stronger than this.
He succeeded in pulling down the front of my dress so half of my cleavage was on display. The rest would have to be a nightmare to yank out of this dress, it had a corset for Christ's sake.
Alex shoved the layers of tule up, forcing me to focus on my pain, my life, and the handle of that gun. I slowly tried to spin the gun with my fingers, but I ended up pushing it away. I allowed another tear to leak out from the pain of my arm and the uncomfortable poke from his fingers. It's a goddamn vagina not a death contraption.
But then an idea popped up in my head. And that was never good.
I slowly but surely pulled on my ankles, trying to push with my feet up so I could strain against the handcuffs, giving me plenty of leverage to reach the gun with my hands. And then he perceived that wrong. He grabbed one of my feet and rubbed it against his stubbly cheek, making me stop. A fucking foot fetish? Seriously?
"Your feet are so soft kitten," He purred as I pushed more with my other foot. "Fuck it, you're practically dripping I can't wait any longer," He said getting up on his knees, If you poke something enough, it's going to get irritated you fucktard.
I stopped going for the gun as I watched him loom over me, but instead I fought to get away from him. Even if it was pointless to try, at least I could say I died trying.
My wrists were raw as I did so and I fought with all of my might as the grin on his face grew. I shut my eyes as I heard him unzip his pants. I did not want those images to be the last ones before my death. I froze, afraid that he would see how close the gun was to my hand. If he would just look away for two seconds, I could get it.
I wanted my dad. I wanted him to be here. I wanted him to hold my hand and guide me away from this place. To heaven perhaps. Or to hell. Only God knew. I wanted my mother to be there. Because I pictured her as the most beautiful, successful, and brilliant woman in the world. I pictured her as the mom of all moms'. Whenever my dad told stories of her when I was younger, he would get this gleam in his eye. As if he was in awe with the woman he loved. I now realize that gleam was because of his undivided love for her, and all the similarities he saw between us. The only trait that I could picture my father and I having in common; was the ability to be stubborn. We were one of the same when it came to who was right or wrong. Whose idea was better. Whose love was stronger. At this moment I think we could agree on something peacefully for once. And it would have to be that we loved each other the same no matter what was told or done.
I could feel Alex's rough calloused finger start to push my thong to the side, another tear making its way out of my sealed eye. That underwear had been meant for Kyle when I hadn't known he was a liar. A thief. A jackass. It had been for when I had loved him. The trouble being that I still did love him.
I would love him no matter what.
The fog clouded my thinking as thoughts and words ran into each other like two semi-trucks in an intersection. It was impossible to escape the fact that the loss of blood was killing me. And that the concussion was winning. And so I gave in to it.
My dreary state had me floating above my body, witnessing the sickening scene in front of me.
But suddenly my mind drifted to the ever present image of Kyle. I wasn't sure what to do with him. But I knew that what I had with him was real. And that the best moments of my life had been with him.
I looked below me to see my own unconscious self and a paused frame of Alex. But it interested me in who was next to him. A very grim looking black cloaked figure stared at the back of Alex's head, like a shadow waiting to fulfill his job. It looked down at me before looking back down at him and I too looked over at my face.
It was peaceful, my entire body glowing, as if ready for my soul to enter a different dimension. A better one. But I couldn't do it without Kyle. He was all I could think about. Every laugh, smile, tickle, bad joke, splash in the pool, Chipotle burrito, off key song sung in the car with the windows rolled down... I wanted more of that and I don't think Heaven could offer that without him.
I tried to open my mouth and say something to the figure, but before even a noise from my mouth could be uttered, I was yanked back to the present. Reality rushing forward in a long wave before movement began again.
"POLICE!" A scream sounded after I heard the crashing of windows and felt the filtration of light flood my eyesight.
I squeezed my eyes shut in pain and, pushed my hands up, able to reach the gun with much more ease than I had been able to before. I held the gun in my hand, quickly loading it and watching in realization as it hit Alex. It was as if everything happened in slow motion. He lifted his gun too, pulling the trigger at something behind me instead of at me. I shot my bullet at Alex a second after he shot his and watched the bullet with my initials, burrow itself into his heart. He jolted before staring me in the eyes and falling backwards off of the metal table.
Movement began in normal speed as I heard boots rush over to me and a groan of pain. A groan I didn't want to hear from this particular person.
"Dad!"
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Hey guys, I'm backkkkk! I was never really gone, I just didn't want to post until I had finished the book and I have now finished it! It took me awhile to write it but yeah, there are four more chapters until the end!
Since I am finished, I will be following through with what I had said previously: I will be updating it every other day until it is done. So don't leave me hanging and READ ITTT!;P
So this chapter was really big (info wise) and I vaguely remember editing it... but not really lol, so there are some grammar mistakes which is unfortuante, but it's also life.
BIG THINGS HAPPENED: HER DAD WAS SHOT. CAN WE TAKE A SECOND. SHOT. I REPEAT. BIG THING HAPPENED. HOLY SHITTTTTTTT.
Well that's all I have... VOTE, COMMENT, TELLYOUR FRIENDS ABOUT THIS (BECAUSE IT'S ENDING SO VERY SOON), AND DO WHAT YOU DO BEST MY PRODIGIES! I love you guys! xx, Bella ;P