Chapter 26 Toma
TWENTY-SIX
TOMA
My brother has always been brutal, but my betrayal and the torture that has followed has been my constant for weeks. It’s taking its toll. I don’t know how much longer I can go on.
I’ve lost weight. I’ve lost sleep. My reflexes aren’t as sharp as they used to. Petar keeps me malnourished on purpose, every piece of food a bargaining chip for the horrors he wants me to commit.
He’s made me hurt so many innocents over the past month that I don’t think my soul will ever recover.
The sliver of hope the woman with hazel eyes I thought I could love ignited in me is gone.
I’d never allow myself to touch her with my tainted fingers now.
Thinking of her makes my heart lurch painfully in my chest. Her name used to be sacred but I almost forgot it now.
I thought my body would only ever belong to her but there’s been many after her since. Not that I wanted their touch.
The impact of what Petar did, what he made me do has my skin permanently itching. I constantly feel dirty.
I’m starting over, proving my loyalty at the bottom of the food chain, in the small guard house by the gates of my brother’s house. It suits me just fine. As long as I don’t have to look at my tormentor every second of every day.
The Adriatic sea shimmers in the distance in hues of blue ink as night falls rapidly.
The view is almost as beautiful as her eyes.
I never left Split because I don’t enjoy the city.
Having an espresso on the Riva, the city’s seaside promenade, is one of the simplest pleasures I enjoyed.
In another life. My brother knows wandering the ancient streets could keep me from spiralling into despair.
Make me feel human again. So he’s not allowing it.
I’m a tool, his Beast. And I’m starting to believe it, too.
The two other men on duty with me are cruel, ready to take their break and feast on the delicacies inside the main house. My hands tingle with the need to strangle them. Violence and rage is all I am now.
I bide my time. Once they’re out of the picture, I have my own mission. The vow that keeps me from taking my own life and ending it all. Get Diane out of here. The risk of saving her is the same as my usual treatment. There’s no hope left for me, but there is for Diane. So I’ll endure it.
She’s been invited to tonight’s festivities. Yet, I know my brother well enough. The glint in his monstrous eyes when he looks at her tells me he’s found her out and can’t wait to make her the main event of tonight’s depraved show.
The people gathered tonight fall into two categories.
Hunters.
And hunted.
She’ll be prey even if she doesn’t know it yet.
The first guard in our trio looks down at his watch and smiles, patting his colleague on the shoulder and sneering down when he catches my gaze. It takes a tremendous amount of effort not to kill him on the spot with my bare hands.
He disappears towards the main house.
I don’t have much time. Securing the tranquilliser I’ll use tonight wasn’t easy nor cheap, but it’s coming in handy. I don’t wait a second and pierce the second guard’s soft skin with the needle at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
“What the—” He doesn’t finish and falls limply at my feet. I pull him into the guard house. He should be asleep for a few hours. I’d have killed him but it’s harder to justify a dead body than a sleeping colleague who’s indulged in too much alcohol or cocaine on Christmas Eve.
On silent feet, I catch up with the other guard, who isn’t expecting anyone to jump him in the dark corner of the garden.
The needle finds its mark and I scoff at how easy that was.
Either my brother is getting sloppy, or he truly believes no one will assault the fortress he’s chosen for a home.
Especially not me. He doesn’t trust me, that much is clear.
And he did break a big part of my spirit.
Yet that vow keeps me going. The last thread of humanity in me linked to the woman who needs my help.
I don’t let my shoulders relax yet and creep towards the gathering of the evening guests.
The hunted are being gathered on the patio when I approach.
Staying hidden, I scan the small crowd for Diane.
In an elegant black dress and high heels, she’s being pushed around by my brother’s second-in-command.
I don’t hear what she says but the tilt of her chin tells me she’s protesting.
The slap that hits her face makes me growl low. I can’t act rash.
Once she is released in the park surrounding the estate, I’ll intercept her. My gut twists knowing all the other guests will die. This isn’t the first hunt my brother has hosted. I’m grateful he made me sit this one out. As though it was a punishment.
His massive shadow exits the house and the man of the hour steps onto the patio, his arms open wide. Always grand theatrics with him. My skin crawls. Just his face has that effect on me now. I wish I wasn’t scared of him, but I am. I know what he’s capable of.
Men and women alike who changed into tactical clothes and wear night-vision goggles laugh at what he says. The hunted tremble, eyes wide and fearful. Nausea rises in my throat, but I keep my eyes on Diane.
A loud whistle breaks the night air and she quickly removes her heels before darting out behind the house. Right where the door I was guarding is. I catch her as she passes by me, slapping a hand to her mouth.
“If you value your life, you’ll stay quiet,” I breathe against her ear. She flails and fights, though. “The Venturas sent me.” Even saying her family name is like ash on my tongue.
Diane freezes, then nods. I turn her around and press a finger to my lips then jerk my head to the side in a silent command to follow me.
She does without protesting, glancing behind her shoulders every so often.
She trembles but the adrenaline in her system is running high, making her movements jerky and fast. I can work with that.
All that matters is that we reach the guard house and I release her into the city underneath.
She’ll have to run fucking fast, and without any documents, it might be hard for her to find her footing and a way out of the country.
But I have to believe she’s as resourceful as the girl who thought she could love me.
This woman helped raise her, she must have the same qualities.
There’s only so much I can do without disappearing myself.
And that choice isn’t one I can make when it means threatening the life of the one I love.
The threat of the pain the cattle prod inflicts on my body and the forced pleasure that’s now one more painful thing I have to go through have me ready to retch. I close my eyes and exhale through the mouth, willing all images of what Petar is capable of out of my mind.
This is all I can do. All I can offer.
We reach the guard house. White hot pain assaults me and I fall to my knees. The back of my head throbs.
“Hit harder,” someone says and I dodge them, rolling onto my back and pulling my gun out.
Two figures, masked and dressed in black hold me at gun point.
“Michel?” Diane’s voice is filled with hope.
“Mon amour,” the stockier one murmurs in French and lifts his mask, kissing his wife and embracing her with the urgency of someone who came close to losing the love of their life. The reminder of what I lost is keen and sharp as it slithers under my skin and turns me bitter.
“We don’t have time for this,” the other man—who I’m assuming is Bruno, her father—complains.
His gun is still trained on me but I don’t care anymore.
Diane is safe. She’ll go back home. Her father is unscathed.
The woman I love can forget all about me, about pain. I’ve accomplished what I set out to do.
I release my hold on my own weapon and shift to my knees.
My eyes clash with her father’s. They’re not remotely the same colour since he isn’t her blood, but the same fire and love simmers under the honey brown that looks at me like I’m nothing. It doesn’t even register. I already agree.
“I know who you are,” he seethes between clenched teeth. “I should fucking kill you for what you did to her.” His finger hovers over the trigger.
Instead of an answer, I shuffle closer. My forehead makes contact with the muzzle of his gun.
“She could have died because of you,” he whispers.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
The raw pain in his voice makes me frown. I did everything to ensure she was safe. I’m about to ask him to kill me, deliver me from torment. I can’t protect her if I’m alive, I’m sure of it now. The only way to safety is if I die.
Yet, she did something to me. Despite everything, I still hold on to the very tiny hope that I will see her again. I didn’t realise it until her kin showed up, talked about her, anger and hate for me making me feel alive for the first time in weeks.
Doubt makes me ask, “Is she safe?”
The barrel of the gun presses to my forehead harder, his rage pulling tight at the strings of his restraint. He wants to kill me but something is holding him back.
“She was attacked tonight,” he says. “She barely managed to kill the man sent to kill her. Because of you.”
I thought my heart couldn’t break. My body has been abused but nothing compares to the numbness spreading through me now.
“What?”
My brain assaults me with visions of Lucie, white as a sheet, blood pouring out of her mouth, eyes unseeing. She lays in a pool of her own blood and I crawl to her, but I can’t reach her. No matter how strong I am. I’m too late.
“Is she…” I can’t finish my sentence.
“Who do you think she is? I raised her better than any of you, scum. She’s alive.”
My frozen limbs slowly awaken, a rage like I’ve never felt before growing inside me. It razes everything on its path. It breaks through the despair, the pain, the guilt, and regrets.
My girl was attacked.
He dared to go after her.
Despite turning me into his puppet.
Why did I think he would honour his promise? Everything Petar has shown me is hate, disdain. Lies upon lies. That’s who he is.
Everything I thought I knew about how to protect Lucie changes as her father debates how much he wants to kill me. My brother’s word means nothing.
It never did.
It never will.
The people he made me hurt died for nothing. I suffered for nothing.
My nostrils flare. The monster inside of me finally opens his eyes. And growls, ready for blood.
I stand, ignoring the gun pointed at my head. Bruno isn’t going to kill me. He’d have done already if he really wanted to.
“My brother needs to die.”
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Michel scoffs, then withers when I send him a dark look.
Before I can form a plan to get rid of the man who’s made my life a living hell, a loud commotion resounds from the main house, my brother’s booming voice loud over the rest of them.
“You need to leave,” I tell them.
“They’re coming,” Bruno says and I frown. “Lucie’s managed to convince a fucking rescue party for you. The only reason you aren’t laying in a pool of your own blood, Kova?, is because she forbade it. Remember that. You owe her your life.”
I always have but I don’t tell him that. I was dead inside before I met Lucie and even if I can never hear the sound of her laughter again, I’ll never stop thanking her for seeing me and loving her with all the strength of my pathetic heart. I don’t deserve her.
“We end this. Tonight,” I say.
All three of them nod.
“But first, you have to hurt me,” I ask her dad.
“What?”
“Petar’s going to show up here any minute. Where’s Lucie’s team?”
“I’m not sure. I’d say two hours away.”
“We don’t have much time. That loud noise you heard? That’s their alert for an escape. Punch me.”
“What will you do?”
“Stall them. And kill Petar. Now, fucking punch me.”
I barely finish my sentence before his fist connect with my jaw and my head whirls to the side. I grunt.
“Again!”
“Gladly.”
I slump down after the fourth hit, blood pouring from my broken nose and his split knuckles. They leave, looking behind them, before they disappear into a black sedan with blacked out windows. It’s common in the area and I have to admire how prepared they were.
Thumping sounds of boots slamming the grass grab my attention. A slow smile spread on my cheeks. There’s going to be hell to pay, and for once I’ll be the one dishing it out.