Chapter 4
Chapter 4
IRIS
T he text haunts me as I wait. Of course I attempt to yank on the damn door and poke around every possible indention in the room to see if it leads to anything. I find nothing in my search, only more frustration. Heaving a breath, I’m staring at the wall and chewing my thumbnail when the small television in the corner flips on. The short shrill beep coming from the speakers makes me jump, my heart thundering in my chest.
“Hello?” I say to the television, feeling like a ditz for speaking to the black box. I’m not sure if they can hear me, but with everything they’ve been responsible for so far, I wouldn’t put it past them.
“Good evening, Miss Kensington,” a distorted voice responds. It’s the type of sound you hear with one of those little boxes. It reminds me of the Scream movie and a chill instantly crawls over my flesh. “Shall we begin?” they suggest, as a masked man in a sapphire-colored robe appears on the screen. The visual only feeds into my anxiety, the suffocating feeling squeezing my lungs.
“Well, I think that depends… who are you?” My voice is raspy, sounding hoarse. I clear my throat, clenching my hands in my lap to prevent myself from ripping off another nail and wait for a reply with bated breath.
“It’s information you must figure out for yourself, but ultimately not important.” A smile creeps through in his tone, enjoying the fact he’s able to taunt me, holding something over my head.
“And what exactly am I supposed to be figuring out?” It’s all I can drum up at the moment, irritation and impatience twisting me up inside. I don’t enjoy being played with like it’s some sort of game. This isn’t a fucking SAW movie, and whoever’s responsible should know not to kidnap me. Beau and King will rain torture on anyone who dares to threaten me, so I can only imagine what they’ll do when we get through this. I have to believe at least one of them is alive and will be handing out punishments.
I also have my grandfather. He would do anything to protect me and I have no doubt he’d take his vengeance out on the entire society if necessary for the fucked-up turmoil they’ve put me through. I just need to get to him.
“The truth,” he pauses. “If you’re up for the challenge?” He chuckles and my stomach clenches. The voice box makes a horrible sound, the sharp squeal like nails on a chalkboard. I press my fists to my thighs to try and stop myself from showing any outward fear. I’d bet his real voice is menacing, but he’s too much of a coward to face me in person.
I’m not above crying, screaming, or begging if I have to… but most of all, I’ll fight for as long as I can if they make me. They won’t break me. I can’t let them.
“What do you want?” I ask, holding my head high, knowing I need to be choosy enough to ask the right questions. I’m determined to figure out this game, as I’m feeling stuck in my own live horror movie and it’s wigging me the hell out. The difference between now and watching a movie is, I can pause a movie, go grab a snack, and come back to it. I don’t have that luxury in real life; I’m trapped here alone, with the madman who happens to have a secret society at his back. No pressure at all…
“To help you.”
“I find that hard to believe, but I’ll play your game. What’s the truth?”
The flip phone chimes, alerting me an image has been sent. I’m only distracted for a few brief seconds, but it’s long enough for the television to turn back to black, the mask disappearing. I groan with frustration. “Fucking shit!” I managed to get nothing out of my first encounter with whoever is holding me hostage, definitely not a great start to my plans. I imagined myself a better negotiator than that pathetic attempt I just showed.
There’s another chime and then a third. More images. I click the first one and watch as it slowly loads, wishing it was a smart phone I could use to call for help. It does me no good when there’s no service. They must be sending the messages through Wi-Fi, though it’s hard to believe they have any internet wherever it is they have me trapped.
The image eventually loads and it’s a picture of my plane ticket when my father sent me to Paris. The second image is of my boarding school. The third, my father shaking hands with a man I’ve never seen before.
I have no idea what any of it means, but they’re obviously trying to point something important out to me. Or it could just be a fucking distraction while they finish us all off. I can’t think that way, I have to remain hopeful. I’ll see one of my boys when I break out of here, there’s no other option. I refuse to believe both of them are dead and allow myself to fall to absolute pieces, because it’s exactly what will happen. I love those fucked up boys far too much to think of a future without them included.
But the gunshot…
My throat grows tight, tears threatening to swim in my gaze, but I choke them back down. I won’t let them spill. Not yet. I told the guys I could handle whatever was thrown at us and now it’s time for me to dig deep and prove it.
Another picture comes through… a gasp spills free as soon as it loads. It’s a bloody hand laying lifeless on a dirty floor. I can’t see if it’s cut off as the picture ends before the wrist. It’s the ring shining through the red that hits me like a ton of bricks. I draw in a breath, then another as each becomes harder and harder to take in. I’d recognize the ring anywhere as it’s Kingston’s family crest and it’s covered in blood, along with the lifeless hand.
The phone tumbles from my grip, falling to the floor as I wrench over, a loud keening wail spilling from my lips. A pain like no other stabs me in the chest, my heart ripping in half. One of them is gone and though I heard the gunshot earlier, this makes it even more real. This is proof.
“No, no, no,” I cry, face down into the mattress as I clench my eyes closed. I can’t lose him, I can’t be without either of them. I told him to kill me! I demanded Kingston save Beau and himself… it was the only answer to all of this. To have to live without one of them in my life will be pure torture… to be forced to get through every day with only half of my heart working is no way to live.
“Fuck you!” I scream wildly into the room. There’s no one there, but I know they’re listening. “You hear me, you sadistic fucks? Mark my words, I’ll get free somehow and I’ll find you. I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my life, so help me, I will kill you for doing this to us. For taking him from me.”
A laugh echoes in the room, and not even my sobs can drown it out.
The static screeches through the room before the video begins to play once again. Dramatic moans take over and I turn my head, expecting a porno to be on the screen. My eyes don’t even glance over the naked girls, it’s Beau’s limp body chained to a wall that has my entire focus. He’s lethargic, his head bobbing back and forward slowly as if he’s starting to come out of a drug induced haze.
Anger boils inside of me, awakening a savage type of crazy I never knew existed in myself. Tears slip from my eyes, trailing over my cheeks. I thought I was all cried out, but I’m proven wrong as what’s left of my heart begins to shatter for the man being tortured. A quick survival reaction has me searching the screen for any sign of where he’s at. The concrete wall at his back looks the same as the walls in my room, although it’s not nearly as filthy here.
I move closer, wanting to memorize every detail they’re allowing me to witness. I’ll need to think about it all again and try to come up with a plan as soon as they shut the television off.
He’s dirty. I can’t tell if it’s dried blood or dirt smudged all over his body. His face is swollen. His stomach looks bruised… or maybe it’s more dirt. At least I hope it’s only dirt. I exhale a shaky sigh, thinking of the hell he’s been through in the short span of time we’ve been apart.
All of the girls are blonde and naked, with their hands groping all over my guy. His muscles flex when one of them grips his cock and I hold my breath as his jaw clenches from gritting his teeth. I’ve learned to read him well enough to know he’s fighting a war in his knocked-out state of mind. The girls are a fucked-up distraction, they have to be , and I won’t fall for it. With that thought, I study absolutely everything. The angle of the camera. The floor under his feet. The tear stains down his perfectly heartbroken face. All of it.
With each new observation, my fury rises, making it harder to stay calm and collected so I can gather every detail. But I manage it. If the society wants to play games… challenge fucking accepted. The screen goes black, yet I remain frozen in place, my mind replaying everything I just watched. They want me to be jealous. To overreact, so I’ll take this out on Beau, but what they’ve allowed me to see simply tells me everything I need to know.
If anything happens to him… the amount of torture I will repay to this fucked up society has grown exponentially. Haven’t they ever heard of what happens when a woman is scorned? We go crazy and I won’t hesitate to unleash every ounce of mine on them.
Finally, I take a few steps back, slowly retreating from the half-truths, half-lies that the society felt the need to show me. Before I’ve made it back to the mattress, however, the screen flashes on again and my stomach drops. Each time this box has been on, it’s been nothing good.
This time, I steel my spine and move quickly so I’m able to focus sooner.
It’s my mother. She’s smiling as she sits on a blanket at the park. I remember this place. She would take me there about once a week when I was a little girl. I haven’t felt as carefree as I did back then in a long time. I miss it… I miss her.
The camera shifts, showing me the playground where I’m laughing and running toward her. “Can we stay longer, please Momma?” My young and na?ve voice sounds bratty and annoying, but my smile’s so big, my cheeks flushed with happiness almost makes up for it.
What does this video mean? Why do they want me to see it? Before I can figure out any answers, the screen goes black again.