Brutal Knight

Chapter 34

THIRTY-FOUR

Knight drove like a maniac until we reached Maya's house. He barged inside without knocking, his eyes wild, his hair sticking in all directions. He'd changed out his shirt and quickly cleaned the blood from his nose, but it was still swollen, and his eye was beginning to bruise.

My own heart was in my throat, my breathing at the edge of panic. Not Honey.

Maya met us right inside the doorway, her cheeks wet with her own tears. "Knight. Thank god you're here." Behind her stood Abby with a group of uniformed cops. She looked on the edge of breaking down. "Sh-she's just gone!"

"I need to see her room." Knight tore past her and up the stairs.

A brunette-haired cop stood outside the room, and she immediately blocked our entrance. "Hold up, sir."

"Let me in," Knight demanded.

Her eyes narrowed, focusing in on his nose and eye suspiciously. "No one is allowed inside. Not until the investigators get here."

"Get the fuck out of my way, or I will remove you myself." Knight's expression had gone dark and serious, something I would imagine a killer would look like. I knew if she didn't let us by, Knight might do something dangerous.

I put my hand on Maya's shoulder, gently prodding her forward. "This is the child's mom," stating what the cop probably already knew. "She has a right to allow whomever she wants into the room."

Maya nodded, her face even more pale, her thin body trembling. "Please. I can trust this man." When the cop hesitated, Maya choked out, "please."

The cop's expression softened and she sighed. "Fine. I know you're scared and you think he can help."

"He can!" Maya blurt out.

"But it's very important," the cop continued, "that nothing is touched. We don't want to wipe away any evidence."

"We won't. I promise," I said.

Knight didn't answer, just stared down at her, that dark look on his face. Maya had taken his hand and was squeezing it.

The cop, hesitatingly, stepped to the side, repeating herself. "Don't touch anything."

Knight rushed forward, with both Maya and me on his heels.

I took in the room, the row of elephants, the Batman bean bag in the corner. The tea set looked like someone had recently played with it. A new chess board had been set out. The only thing that looked out of place was Honey's bed, which was unmade, something she'd been so particular about doing correctly before.

I looked at everything, making sure to take in every detail. Not wanting to miss a single clue as to what had happened, and who had done this.

I turned towards the table, remembering how Honey had been so excited to share it with me, a stranger in her home in the middle of the night.

That's when I saw it: a folded origami, in the shape of a bird.

It was innocuous, placed delicately next to the kettle. I knew it hadn't been there before.

The familiarity at the back of my mind now suddenly came into focus, like a flashing neon sign, and the world around me fell into silence. It was so obvious now.

Pajarita . Little bird.

As if in slow motion, my hand reached forward, tingling with apprehension and anxiety, and picked it up. The edges felt like a thousand tiny knives, the sensation running up my arm and into my chest as I grasped it fully in my palm, bringing it up to my face in disbelief.

Voices in the room muted, as if underwater, even though I was the one drowning, drowning.

No!

I could only stare at it in shock for several long moments, my whole body frozen.

Then, taking a short, shallow breath, giving me the courage to open the left wing.

Hola mi pajarita.

Hello my little bird.

The ground came up as I collapsed to my knees, all my breath leaving me.

"Tatiana!" Knight's surprised voice, and then he was next to me. "Are you okay?" His touch on my arm sent me spiraling backwards through time.

Fingers around my arm, clutching it tight in warning.

"Tatiana, dear," Manuel's rough voice mocked concerned. He'd glanced towards the milling guests around us. "She’s not feeling well again."

I could feel their sympathetic stares, a low tut. Their judgement.

Because I was always sick––that was the excuse he gave them anyways. When I wasn't allowed out because he'd beaten me so black and blue that I could barely stand.

Today it was because he'd forbidden me to eat for three days, despite the plethora of food in the fridge and cupboards. I was so hungry, I'd almost passed out.

"Here, carina," his false voice of caring held the undercurrent of warning, "Let me help you to the sofa." His nails, digging into my skin as he pulled me upwards. Get off the floor or you won't walk for a week, it told me.

"Sweetheart, look at me." The sincerity in Knight's voice snapped me back to the present, his fingers running through my hair soothingly.

I met his gaze, remembering, remembering. He'd abandoned me to that man.

There was a clearing of a throat--the cop was still by the doorway, a mixed look of concern and suspicion on her face.

Maya's face hovered over Knight's shoulder. "Do you need something? I have some fresh squeezed orange juice downstairs. I'd made it for her this morning but...." she petered out, unable to finish, her eyes beginning to water again.

A wave of guilt crashed over me as the realization of what I had done set in. I had brought this darkness to her doorstep.

Because I now knew with a certainty, that he had taken Honey.

That he was responsible for all this: kidnapping me, the heroin, and the drowning.

I hadn't believed it before because... because I'd killed him .

I'd slashed a knife across his neck and watched him bleed out on the marble tiled floor.

He was--he was supposed to be dead.

And yet, somehow, he was still alive--the proof right in front of me.

I was paralyzed by the intensity of my emotions: shock, terror, and disbelief washing over me like a wave.

I had done my best, but it hadn't been enough. And now, he'd come back to take his revenge.

But first, he wanted to make me suffer, like he did with all his victims.

It was his favorite pastime--stalking his prey, tormenting them before attacking, making sure they knew he had all the power. He got a thrill out of thinking he was always one step ahead of them.

I had seen firsthand his sadistic pleasure -- reveling in the idea that he was smarter than everyone else around him. It wasn't just about money - though that was part of it - it was about the need for control and domination. And it drove him mad if anyone got the better of him.

He'd once driven his car into a tree, with me inside it, after someone dared to steal from him.

The edges of the paper bird cut into my finger. The bird was a clear sign: he wanted me back.

His little possession . His pajarita .

And I had no doubt he would kill Honey if I didn't go to him.

Then, using me, he would lure Knight in, torture and kill him, I would remain as his little play thing, once more.

I couldn't let that happen. I'd brought the psychopath here. And, no matter what I did, I could never undo that. But I had to find a way to get Honey back and keep Knight out of this.

"Please." Knight spoke, and I realized I hadn't answered Maya's question. She walked from the room and the folded bird collapsed as I crushed it in my palm.

I had to undo this. To get Honey back. To keep Knight away from the nightmare of my past.

"Tati," Knight's voice lowered now, his concerned gaze meeting mine. I could see the love in them, feel it pour through me, warming the icy shock in my body. "What's wrong?"

I could only shake my head. I couldn't tell him. Manuel would kill not only Knight, but Maya too if she discovered the truth. Knight had no idea what kind of capabilities Manuel had. What kind of sadistic things he got off on.

I still bore the scars - both physical and emotional - from when he chained me to the bed and forced me to watch as he tortured an innocent waiter who'd made the mistake of flirting with me.

I'd seen that waiter one more time afterwards, and he'd pissed in his pants before running away. Later I heard he'd put a bullet to his own brain.

That's the kind of effect Manuel had on the people in his life.

I forced my face to go blank. "Nothing. I'm just in shock."

He pressed his lips together in a firm line. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

You abandoned me . The thought came, unbidden. A knot swelled in my throat as a realization washed over me. Would I ever get over that? Move on from my past?

I wanted to.

And yet, the thoughts slithered through my mind like poison. I couldn't stop them.

The doubts. The constant ache in my chest.

He'd abandoned me when I needed him the most.

"Tell me the truth, Tati," his voice, low, so the cop couldn't hear us talk. "I need to know what you found." His hand went to my shoulder, meant to be comforting but instead, felt like a vice.

I shook my head, defiant. "I didn't find anything."

We stared each other down.

Anxiety bubbled from my chest, up my throat, flushing my face with fear. My mind was frantic, my thoughts overflowing.

Manuel would kill every single one of them.

I forced myself to appear calm. Fisting the bird in my palm, I shook my head, pulling myself to my feet. "I told you. It's nothing," I lied, shoving the bird into my pocket.

I would save Honey myself.

I had to; I was the only one who could.

* * *

Throughout the rest of the day, Knight was furious, needing to kill the "fucker responsible for this."

I knew a junkie's agitation when I saw it, and Knight was an addict. His hands shook, his eyes manic, his attention drifting, lost inside his head.

We stayed at Maya's house only until the investigators arrived, leaving with a promise to find her. Then we spent the rest of the day and into the night questioning Knight's contacts, threatening them if necessary.

We'd missed the meeting with Ahanu, though he insisted the cartel had nothing to do with Honey's disappearance. He'd been overtly obtuse in the meeting, only stating that he was disappointed Knight wasn't there.

Knight was ready to burn down everything they owned and start an all-out war. The only thing stopping him was Coulter's firm warning to keep himself under control.

We'd worked relentlessly until Knight began to fall asleep at the wheel, and I insisted we return to the safe house. As soon as he dropped into slumber, I crept out of bed and moved to the bathroom, pacing.

I couldn't believe it .

Mother-fucking impossible! That fucker was dead!

He had to be.

I knew I'd seen his face when they'd held me captive and injected me with heroin. But afterwards, I thought it had been a hallucination, an effect of the drug.

And yet, I'd felt his throat give way with my knife, saw the blood spilling over the marble flooring. I'd watched life fade from his sight.

And yet, could he have survived? Was it possible?

My fingers curled around paper.

Who else would have known about the paper birds he used to make me, folding them at restaurant tables, leaving them scattered everywhere.

At first, it was cute.

Those were the days he'd wooed me, even though I now knew that it had all been a farce, a performance. That Pablo, Knight's cousin, had already sold me to Manuel, deceiving both me and Knight.

I remembered the first time I'd met Manuel. It was the day I went to Knight to ask him if he would ever marry me.

I'd immediately drawn Manuel's attention and he'd scared me. His eyes had been cold and hard. But years later, he'd learned how to mask his psychopathy. He could pretend all so well that he was charming, kind, and loving.

That only lasted as long as it took for him to get his claws into me.

And then it was too late.

He'd taken all my money, money I now knew Knight had given me, all my freedom, my whole life.

Replaced it with a big house at the edge of the beach, guards keeping me prisoner within.

Then, the birds were his reminder that I belonged to him. To behave in public, keep a smile and an adoring look on my face, or I would be punished for it when we got home.

I couldn't rebel, or he would make me pay.

Broken bones, shattered confidence, and a death wish became my new life.

And yet, I thought I'd killed him.

It was almost impossible, but what was the saying? When all other possibilities are eliminated, the only one remaining, however improbable, must be the truth.

I stared into the mirror, the old, familiar look of fear in my wide eyes making a rush of memories wash over me.

How many times were my cheeks this flush with anger and hatred?

The rage building inside, the familiar acid on the edge of my tongue, the billowing heat in my chest, the welling tears in the back of my eyes.

How many times did I stare into a mirror and wish that I was dead?

That I could kill or be killed, or that my life had been different in a million different ways.

My fingers grasped the paper bird in my fingers, the shock of the truth returning with full force, doubt threatening to overwhelm me.

Was it actually possible that he'd survived that fateful night that Rook found me?

And now, if he was alive, if he was coming after me, he'd taken this young, sweet, innocent girl.

I put her in the line of fire, and if he was doing a tenth to her what he had done to me, her life would be irrevocably changed.

Guilt swept over me, grief making my knees shake so badly I collapsed to the floor.

It was all my fault.

Knight had managed to keep Honey and Abby safe. But because I couldn't stop my jealousy from bringing me to their house, I'd put them in danger.

You were never worthy of him. The old, familiar voice in the back of my mind reared its head. A voice I had long ago stifled.

I was the worst person.

I shouldn't exist on this earth.

I should've never come to Vegas.

Never should've tried to be better than what I really was.

I was just a poor, terrible Russian immigrant that was worth nothing to no one.

I didn't belong in this world, where people smiled and laughed. Where they had money for food and clothes and even extra stuff. Where they were surrounded by people they loved and who loved them, and they didn't worry about people disappearing in the middle of the night or dead bodies littered in their past.

I belonged with the trash, just as my parents always told me. Into little bits of fire and ash, swept across the world by the wind because I was so small and insignificant that no one ever thought or cared about me.

I needed to figure out a way to set this right, and then leave them forever, to their joy and happiness.

I crumpled the paper in my fist one last time, great big heaving sobs wrenching from my chest and throat, as guilt pounded to the rhythm of my heart, loud and overwhelming all thought.

I had to fix this.

To find out if it was true, if Manuel was still alive and he'd been the one tormenting me this whole time.

If so, and if he had Honey, I was going to make sure he was dead this time.

All the men in my life had failed me.

My father, for letting those men fuck me in exchange for money.

Pablo, for selling me to Manuel.

And then, even now, Rook, for selling me to Knight.

I was just a game piece in their lives, to be exchanged across the board for power or money or status.

I didn't actually mean anything to them, except for what I could give them.

And even here, now, in Las Vegas.

Knight had never come for me.

I'd come to him , like a star to her black hole, unable to stray far from the gravity of his pull to me.

Not once had I stood on my own, taken care of myself.

For once in my life, I had to do this on my own - to stand on my own two feet and possess the strength to confront life head-on.

My goal was clear: I was going to eliminate this bastard.

He abducted Honey, believing he could use her to manipulate me. To bring me back under his power.

He had no idea who he was dealing with now.

I might not mean much to this world, but I wasn't the same little girl he manipulated and controlled all those years ago.

This time, I would be the one doling out justice, not him.

With anger and determination making my tears run dry, I stood. Moving silently through the room, I dressed while keeping a keen eye on Knight to make sure he really was asleep.

I had to do this, and I had to do this alone. Because, as time had proven, Knight would never come for me.

Besides, many of the women I would need to talk to would only do so face to face, and they would never speak to me with Knight by my side.

I was now facing the truth: that my plans for revenge on Knight was only my way of inserting myself back in his life.

I'd wanted to prove to him, to myself that I was worthy of his love.

My whole life, I'd longed to know it.

To hear that leaving me was the biggest mistake of his life.

That I was the only woman he'd ever loved.

I thought, only this would prove that I was worthy of his love and attention.

I'd thought I hated him, but really, it was myself that I hated.

But now, the only way I could ever truly love anyone, was to love myself first.

And in order to do that, I had to let him go and confront my past.

As I stared at his sleeping form, I pulled one last ribbon from my pocket: the one he'd given me the night of his initiation ceremony.

I'd been holding on to it ever since, but now, I needed to let it go.

Let him go.

Let go of the hope that his love would be enough for me.

I had to be enough for myself.

Placing it next to him on the bed, I turned and left without looking back, knowing that this would be the last time I would ever see him.