Embracing the Dark Side (Morozov Mafia #2)

38. Hell

Chapter thirty-eight

Hell

It was cold. That was the first thing that Jolie could comprehend as Adrik nearly dragged her down two flights of stairs and into a dark tunnel. Filip followed them, and their footsteps echoed in the quiet. Her eyes were wide, flipping in many different directions, and then they came to a door that Adrik pushed her through. Jolie stumbled, and when she looked up, Vincent was there.

Her gasp was loud, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

On a vertical gurney, his whole body sagged against the straps that nearly cut into his skin. He was covered in dirt and blood, and a puddle of urine sat at his feet. The smell came to her next, and Jolie’s fingers shifted to encompass her nose. Tears blinked down her cheeks and gathered against her fingers till they spilled over.

Adrik walked around Jolie and looked at Vincent with pride. The man looked appropriately tortured. The blood stain of his father was a dirty smear on the concrete floor. It splattered like paint, and the drag marks were nothing short of a masterpiece. Adrik turned his head to see what lay on Jolie’s face. He was discouraged, finding her sympathetic, but he wasn’t surprised. He couldn’t humor her anymore. The risk was greater than the reward. Her empathy could destroy him, and she needed to understand that.

Awareness was coming to Vincent. It was a struggle to lift his head. He blinked the sweat and tears out of his eyes, trying to clear the fogginess of his head. But when he finally saw what was in front of him, he was sure he was hallucinating. “JoJo?”

Her body trembled. His voice sounded so weak. He was beaten and starved, barely looking like the same man, but she knew him from that name alone. Jolie could still remember the first time he called her by that nickname. It had been junior year in high school, and he had accidentally bumped into her. She hadn’t known him personally, only by reputation. Their coupling had been so perfect in the beginning, like it was a meet-cute from a romance book.

Now, their story turned to horror.

Jolie backed up. “Get me out of here.” She spun to go, but Filip blocked the door. Jolie turned to Adrik. “Why did you bring me here? What’s the purpose of this?”

Adrik’s brows knitted, and he gave the most obvious answer. “Revenge.”

She shook her head. “No, no. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this.”

“Didn’t he hurt you?”

Jolie didn’t respond. She knew what it would mean.

Adrik went to the back wall where a worktable full of torture tools sat. But he bypassed all that for the drawer on the left and sighed with relief upon finding a bag of snow. He dug his pinky finger in and pressed it against his nose. It burned, but the familiarity of it brought him relief. In a minute, all his pain would be gone, and there’d be no more sadness .

“Adrik—”

“I told you once”—Adrik slammed the drawer shut and dusted off any leftover white powder before he turned around—“that the only way I control my people is through fear. If they don’t fear me, they’ll have the audacity to touch what is mine.” Adrik walked up to Vincent. “Did you touch her?”

Vincent panted from fear alone. He was nearly hyperventilating, struggling to come up with an answer. “JoJo, get out of here. Get away from him.”

Adrik gripped Vincent’s jaw. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“No, you fuck. I didn’t touch her.”

Jolie whimpered. “Adrik, please, I want to go.”

Adrik stepped back. He thought of going. Of turning around and taking her far from here, because she shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t her world. She was a fish on land, an angel in hell, and she wouldn’t survive if he kept her much longer. But that was the point. He couldn’t trust her, but he couldn’t turn her out, because of his fucking brother. Because of stupid, pointless love.

But if she ran, who could blame him?

Adrik shifted and gave a small wave.

Filip took hold of Jolie’s arms and pushed her forward. She twisted and tried to get out, but his hold only tightened. “No, no, stop, stop, please.” Adrik grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her as they both stood in front of Vincent. She shivered in Adrik’s arms, and if he could feel anything other than rage, he’d give in to her request and let her go. But without his brothers, without his father, Adrik lost the man he was. And now something else was taking control. Revenge consumed rational thought, devouring any trace of it in his subconscious. And it only left the shadows of his mind.

“Knife,” Adrik demanded, and Filip held it out. “Grab it.”

Jolie whimpered and protested, but he took hold of the back of her hand, forcing her fingers to wrap around the hilt. “Adrik, stop this, please.”

How many times had he heard someone beg? It was a chorus amplified by dozens of voices.

“Did he touch you?”

Jolie’s face knitted in agony as she met Vincent’s eyes. She had already told Adrik Vincent had touched her. She couldn’t lie now, not when she was trying to gain back his trust. But to say it broke her heart. “Yes.” She suppressed an apology on quivering lips.

Vincent struggled against the confines of his chains. Fresh blood dripped down. “It’s okay, JoJo. It’s okay. I know it’s not you.”

Adrik was in her ear. “I want you to draw the knife everywhere he touched you.” Adrik raised it, her hand trembling as the tip of the blade rested on Vincent’s skin. “Make him regret it.”

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t do this.”

Adrik nuzzled her neck. “You want me to trust you again?” He rested a kiss on her skin, and whispered with a hiss, “Then you have to earn it.”

Jolie couldn’t move. She was shaking so badly, it hurt. Her chest ached and her breathing staggered. Panic was washing over her, and she begged her body to pass out, to have a heart attack, anything to get her out of this. But she couldn’t lie. She couldn’t pretend. It was too much risk. She was already losing Adrik. She couldn’t further provoke him .

But shouldn’t I want to lose him? How can I live like this?

“This isn’t you, Adrik.” Jolie justified. “You wouldn’t do this to me. Please. I know you’re hurting, but please stop this.”

Adrik tightened his hold on her hand and slashed Vincent’s skin. Jolie jumped, gasped, and cried as a fresh wound bled.

Vincent panted heavily through his nose, gritting his teeth. “I warned you, JoJo. I told you he was a monster. I’d never do this to you.”

“Did he touch you here?” Adrik directed the knife to Vincent’s chest. Jolie shook her head. Moving further down, he dragged the knife against Vincent's urine-stained shorts. “Here?”

“No. Nowhere else.”

"How did he know you shaved your pussy for me?" Adrik pressed his forehead against Jolie's temple, waiting for an answer. The question was bothering him from the phone call in jail. If she hadn't been raped, if she wasn't fucking him, what would be the reason for him to know such an intimidate detail? What lie was she going to create?

Jolie swallowed, forcing an explanation. "Santiago made me undress."

She was lucky. Adrik remembered something like that in the report he received. "Santiago?" Adrik turned his attention to Vincent. "I thought you were the leader."

The condescending tone only pissed Vincent off. "Fuck you."

Adrik smirked. He enjoyed the man's rage. So many hours Adrik had been forced to feel just as helpless and now it was evening out. It made suffering worth it .

Adrik brought the edge of the knife to Vincent’s cheek. He looked down at Jolie’s scar, and with the right angel, dug it into the man’s skin, copying the same design. Jolie groaned, trying to turn her eyes away but Vincent was looking at her, finding solace in her. She wanted to scream at him. Had any of this been worth it? Why hadn’t he just left it alone?

Adrik dragged the bloody tip down to Vincent’s lips. “What about here?”

The memory was vivid, the moment Vincent kissed her. The horror had amplified when Jolie realized what he was capable of. Every moment after she had sat in her bed, clutching a knife, terrified he would come to rape her. He had woken a side of her that she didn’t know she possessed. Vincent brought out the survival part of her that would set the world on fire to keep herself and Helina safe.

At the time, she had thought of hurting him.

Now, the thoughts clashed. Jolie wanted to give back all the fear Vincent caused and simultaneously forgive him.

Adrik took her hesitation for what it was. He twisted the knife between their fingers and dug between Vincent’s lips, then pulled. The skin tugged, and he forced it through, tearing it like a rubber band. Vincent screamed as it ripped apart. Blood poured out of his mouth and formed a river down his chin.

Jolie had never seen such a thing. His pain was so different from her dreams. In her mind, violent movies were the only images she had. But to see it, to feel it, to hear the tear and the scream—it was beyond all horror.

Jolie closed her eyes and laid her head back on Adrik’s shoulder. Tears kept dripping down her face. Did she let his words sink into her, or did she excuse this horrible moment, justify Adrik’s actions, and tell herself he’s not the monster he’s trying to be?

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, Adrik. Please.”

“Anywhere else?”

“No.” She rapidly shook her head, desperate for this to end.

“Are you satisfied with his punishment?”

She nodded, her whole body shaking with it.

“I’m not.” Adrik took the knife out of her hand and slammed it into Vincent’s shoulder. A sharp yell echoed through the cold torture room, and Jolie flinched, falling out of Adrik’s arms. She fell to the ground and landed on the frozen floor. Beneath her hands was a dirty, nearly black mark on the ground, like spray paint. Her fingers shifted away from it when she realized it was dried blood.

She looked all around. The darkness was creeping in. The shadows were moving toward her, reaching out with bony fingers. Hell was coming for her. This was a hole in the world where demons lived.

Jolie jumped to her feet and ran.