57. Matthias
Chapter 57
Matthias
It’s been two days since Scarlet’s visited me, and I try to convince myself it’s for the best. I can’t keep living in the delusion that I might have her one day. The most I can hope for is she finds a way to get free of all of this.
I roll the apple she gave me between my palms. Even starving, I can’t bring myself to eat it.
A sharp, high-pitched scream rips me out of my thoughts, filling every nook and cranny of my room. I stand, moving as close to the door as my chain will allow.
Another scream, this one a begging plea, sends a shiver down my spine. The voice is too young, too innocent to sound like that. It goes on and on, alternating from one small voice to another.
The bloodcurdling noise has every muscle in my body pulled taut as the weight of who it is slams me down to my knees.
“Let them go!” I yell until my throat’s raw, but it never stops. On and on, the sound of young cries eats away at my sanity.
“Please. I’ll do fucking anything. Please,” I beg the empty space around me.
Tears stream down my face as my breath grows shallow, the screams digging into my skull as the feeling of hopelessness overwhelms me. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been cocky—like my name alone would save me—Christopher wouldn’t have gone after my little brothers. He’s hurting them to punish me.
Time warps around me as I curl into a ball, not daring to block out the noise. I owe them this. I owe my brothers to be here with them.
Soft hands touch my back, and I whirl around, barely catching Scarlet as she falls backward.
Red-rimmed blue eyes meet mine as words I can’t understand pour out of her. She moves closer, as if she’s approaching a rabid animal that’s too far gone to be reasoned with.
She kneels in front of me, gripping both sides of my face, and brings her mouth to my ear.
“It’s not them.” She says the words on repeat. “It’s not them. It’s not them. It’s a recording from a horror movie. It’s not real.”
She grips my ears, tugging me back so our gazes meet. “It’s not them. Please listen to me. It’s a recording. It’s not real.”
“It’s…it’s not real.” I replay her words, letting them form on my own lips. “It’s a recording.”
I search her eyes for the lie, but I don’t see it. “How do you know?”
“I checked on them. They’re not even on this level. They’re upstairs.” Tears run down her cheeks. “I promise. It’s not real.”
I collapse against her, my body trembling with the adrenaline pounding through my veins as I hold her tight like she’s the only thing holding me together. Fingers stroke my hair as I fight against the screams still coming from the hall.
Scarlet’s breath fans the shell of my ear as she tells me over and over again that it’s not real.
Rage builds like an ember in my gut, slowly igniting until my entire being feels like it’s on fire.
When she looks at me this time, her eyes are wide, filled with terror. She startles back, ass hitting the ground as she puts distance between us at whatever she can see inside my soul. Good. She needs to get away from me because I’m going to destroy everything in this godforsaken building. Light it up until all that’s left is ashes.
“What the fuck are you doing here.” The guard from earlier comes crashing through the room to grab Scarlet, yelling for backup.
His mistake.
I grab the apple I’d been saving and slam it into his mouth. The crisp scent fills the air as it knocks his teeth in. He lets her go, hands instinctively moving to take it out, but his distraction is his downfall.
Even with my wrists chained together, I’m able to grip his neck between my palms and snuff the life out of him, not letting go until he’s limp. The only thing holding him up is my grip on his crushed windpipe.
I grab the keys from his hip, desperate to get this collar off me, a dangerous giddiness overtaking my senses at the thought of being free. My fingers fumble with the lock, but it’s impossible to reach where it’s attached to my neck.
“Take it off.” I toss the key to Scarlet, who catches it between trembling fingers.
“I’m sorry.” Her brows pinch, teeth chattering together. “I can’t…I can’t let you go. It’ll ruin everything.”
“Is this some kind of sick joke? Take it off, Scarlet.”
“Just wait. I can explain.” She grips the key, holding it behind her back. The small motion feels like a knife sliced through my chest, cracking my ribs and splitting me until the sharp blade is buried in my gut.
She steps away, but her mistake is not moving fast enough. I swing my leg out, taking hers from underneath her, and drag her toward me.
I climb over her, hands going over her throat like they just were on the guard. “Give me the key.”
She looks to the side, where I can see the silver metal glinting just out of reach.
I tighten my grip. “They have my fucking brothers.”
“I know. Let me explain—” My fingers tighten, cutting off her words, and a growl rips from my throat.
“You fucking cunt.”
She struggles against my hold, hips bucking against mine, trying to unseat me, but she’s too small, too delicate. Too easy to snap.
The firmer I press, the less she fights, the light I’ve admired the last few days dimming. I should kill her now, revel in it, but my stomach churns, and bile climbs up my throat at the thought.
Delicate fingers gently wrap around my cuffed wrists, and it’s only then that what I’m doing really hits me.
Fuck.
I throw myself off her, disgust coating my tongue. “Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”
She scrambles to her feet, back hitting the shelves out of reach. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right I don’t fucking understand. Did your brother send you here? Was this all some kind of sick game? Were you supposed to worm your way in? Bat your pretty lashes?”
“I can explain?—”
My chest heaves as I cut her off. “I hope they catch you. I hope you spend the rest of your days under your old-ass husband, having to take his wrinkly fucking dick. I hope you spend the rest of your life miserable for what you did to my brothers.
“I’m sorry.” A sob escapes her lips, and she ducks through her bookshelf.
I slam my fist into the ground the second it closes behind her, a scream ripping from my throat. The sharp slice of betrayal wreaks havoc like knives through my ribs, tearing me to shreds.
I collapse until my forearms press into the floor, and my head rests against them, taking heaping lungfuls of air as the reality of my idiocy hits me. How the fuck could I let her in?
I wait for hours for what will come next, the dead guard stiff and wide-eyed at my feet. I keep my thoughts blank, not trusting them not to stray too terrified blue eyes.
It’s the sound of gunshots that pulls me out of my daze, but it’s Damon’s face dripping with blood that has me standing.
My eyes search him, unable to process that he’s here. He’s in black tactical gear, guns holstered all over his body, covered in deep red speckles as if he’s been sprayed over his arms and neck.
Xander and Bash come up behind him. Their eyes are haunted, but they have wicked smiles on their lips. Both of them have knives in their tiny hands, tipped in blood.
I shake my head, praying this isn’t a dream.
“How,” I say roughly, barely able to get the word out. “How did you find us?”
Damon crosses the distance between us, cupping my cheeks with callused fingers over the same spot delicate ones held hours before.
“Scarlet.”
I flinch at her name. “No, she betrayed me.”
“No, brother. She called me. Set everything up. She told me to tell you she’s sorry, but you would have ruined everything if you got out before I arrived.”
It’s like a punch to the gut. I fucked up. “I have to get to her.”
I move toward the bookshelf, breaking from Damon’s grasp. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”
Damon grabs my arm and hauls me with him. “She’s already safe. You should’ve seen what she did to her father on her way out. Fucking beautiful.”
A laugh bubbles up from my throat, escaping my mouth in a wild cackle.
She’s free.