Chapter 29
KANE
Rowan has requested I watch his captives, so I’m stuck in a shitty room full of screens when I could be playing charades with Kid. Thankfully, no one has disturbed him in the days since Lennox has been gone. It doesn’t reduce the fear of them entering the room while I’m not there.
I turn in the chair, hitting the switch to increase the volume as the captives blindly search for one another now that they’ve been released from the wall after Rowan’s torture.
The plain black hoods over their heads can’t be removed due to being attached to the collars around their necks.
I almost wish I could tell them to rip through the material.
I’m taking Lennox’s advice to disassociate from them. If I don’t say their names, then I’m not hurting a Kristiane or a Decker. If I call them captives—male and female—they’re less human, so I might be able to save myself from this shit once this is over.
“Decker,” the female croaks, ruining my fucking plan as they use their voices to find each other.
Once they do, he quickly wraps his arms around her.
Bloody and bruised, they cling to each other, with the female sitting over his thighs, wrapping her legs around him as they each lay their head on the other’s shoulder. They continue whispering to each other.
I have to increase the volume to hear them as he asks, “Why do you think he’s going to come for you?”
“Because they did it for my sister, so they’ll do it again for me.”
They never say names of anyone who’s alive, but they seem to understand who the other is talking about as they switch topics.
She reaches behind her, pressing her hand over the initials inked on his forearm.
“They’ll come for you too. He’ll have one shoe on and call you a stupid name even though your name is already stupid. ”
“An even stupider name?”
“Yeah.” She laughs weakly. “She’ll make you cake.”
A new torture session must be starting as a group of masked guards walk through the hallway, leading to the thick steel door they’re locked behind.
He tightens his arms around her, pushing into her ribs and curling his fingers around her hips on the opposite side as he promises, “I won’t let anyone touch you. ”
She strokes the back of his head, softly whispering, “Let me go, Decker, it’s okay.” Then kisses his shoulder. “It’s okay, I’ll be okay.”
He stands to his full height as he turns so the chain is against the wall.
Even without his sight, he manages to push her against the wall, using his body as a barrier to stop anyone reaching her.
The locks click, hiss, then the door opens and Rowan is in the center of the five guards who enter.
He’s dressed in an all-black three-piece suit and a tinted black mirror mask, while the others are in black skull masks.
He stops in the middle of the room, asking the captives, “Who instructed you to search for me?”
“Fuck you!” the woman screams while the man uses all of his energy to keep her protected.
“Wrong answer, sweet girl. My patience is not endless. Would you prefer a different method to be used to obtain the answer?”
“No one,” the man snaps. “We haven’t seen you. Let us go, it will stay that way. No one will know anything about you.”
“Mr. Mannix, I have no fear where you’re concerned. You destroyed any details of your client’s request to find me. This all ends when you give me a name.”
“There isn’t a client,” he says.
“You took my sister, you sick cunt!” the woman roars while he presses more of his weight against her. “It was me!”
“It wasn’t her,” he rushes out. “I did it! I was looking for you after she told me.”
“Interesting,” Rowan says slowly, genuinely intrigued by them. “You’re protecting her when she’s protecting someone else. Tell me, Mr. Mannix, what is it that makes you think you’re in a position of power?”
The man doesn’t answer.
“Is it due to your need to play God with your siblings’ lives?”
“Fuck you,” he grits.
“Or is it an inadequacy in your own life, so you protect those around you to give you a purpose?”
“Let us fucking go!” the woman screams.
Rowan doesn’t realize they’re protecting each other. He thinks she’s weak because she’s clinging to him, but she crosses her ankles over his bare ass like she knows what Rowan uses as a punishment.
Niko once said everything in the world revolves around sex—apart from sex itself because that’s about power.
It was during one of his attempts to broach the topic of what happened while I was locked up.
I was too busy thinking about cutting to even think about what he said.
I understand it now though. Sex isn’t about release.
It’s about dominance, overpowering someone, taking from them, showing they’re weaker.
It’s why Rowan uses it as a punishment. It’s a different level of torment to know you’re not safe in your own body—the only thing you’ve had since before you were even born has become alien and uncomfortable.
He’s intrigued by it just like Lennox said.
He’s perfected his punishments so even when the threat isn’t lingering, everyone is still afraid while he stands back, watching the masked guards.
I don’t watch the captives.
I don’t listen to their screams as I mute the speakers.
I watch Rowan. He studied us, Delilah and me, and it’s why he knows how important she is to me. My pretty girl is strong as fuck though. She came up with a plan to befriend Helene. I can’t do that, but I can find this cunt’s weakness to destroy him.
He doesn’t remove his mask, which makes it harder to ignore the violation reflected back to the cameras even though I don’t look at the other screens.
He didn’t lift a finger to orchestrate their torture.
He wants to be powerful, so powerful he can command everyone around him without having to exert any force.
A god complex because if he really was powerful, he wouldn’t have to hide his face.
Even now, years later, he still wields control over me as the woman freezes in the reflection of his mask.
She stops fighting, but the man keeps fighting for her.
Sweat beads down my spine as I keep the memories at bay by crossing my ankles, pressing the inside of my boot to the new cuts above my ankle.
A-fucking-gain, he has control. Just like I did during the meetings with my lawyer while she played countless videos of Delilah being fucked in every position, spanning years, I apply pressure to the cuts, eager to get back to my cell so I can have another hit.
I’ve left one prison, created one for someone innocent, only to realize it was all fake. It was all lies. Yet, I’m back in a prison. Only, this time, I’m both the tormentor and tormented.
Rather than watch this sick shit, I go back to my room.
I left my phone with Kid so he could see the butterflies.
Whatever Lennox did to the device means he controls the signal, but he didn’t let me have any access to the outside world after his call with my wife.
I can’t even speak to my own wife without a guard allowing it. More proof I’m in prison again.
When I turn the corner leading to my room, I notice the door is ajar and my heart pounds in time with my footsteps.
There’s a hollow thud as something stops the door from opening fully when I push my weight against it.
Red flows between the small gap under the door as Kid pokes his head around the door with red liquid splattered on his face, his hands, his arms.
“Who the fuck hurt you?” I can’t breathe. All I can see is his small hands covered in blood. Hands that make butterflies while we play charades.
His smile is a little wider today as he looks up at me. “You said no one has to touch me if I don’t want them to?”
“Yeah, that’s right, Kid.” I nod. “Can you move back, please? So I can come inside?”
He nods, quickly jumping backwards, then drags something so I can push the door further. Once I’m in the room, I see the fucker. He has a knife stuck in his side but he’s not dead yet. A roar builds in my chest at the sight of the filthy motherfucking cunt’s undone zipper.
Kid stands next to me as I close the door and ghost my hand over his dark hair. He looks up at me, whispering, “Was I bad?”
“Never. Go get cleaned up while I sort this, yeah?”
He places his small, bloodied hand in mine, pulling until I lower to my haunches.
As soon as we’re eye level, he wraps his arms around my neck.
I slowly place my hand on his back as I softly say, “You did a good job, Kid. No one is ever allowed to touch you. If they ever try, you do this again, okay?”
“Can we play now?”
“Yeah, once you’re cleaned up.”
He doesn’t even react to the dying fuck beside us as he excitedly says, “Okay, I thought of a really hard one. You’ll never guess it.”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you practice while you get a shower?”
He nods but my arms are still around him so I ask, “Can I pick you up?”
Another nod, slower.
“You can say no to anyone. Including me.”
There’s no response so I remain still. Only for my heart to break and my blood to boil as he whispers, “I can shower by myself now.”
“I know you can. I was only going to take you into the bathroom then close the door.”
“Oh,” he says slowly. “You can pick me up.”
I stand as he wraps his arms tighter around my neck.
There’s even blood on his socks, but I don’t remove them as I hold his ankles while he chews on something.
Carrying him into the bathroom, I sit him on the closed toilet lid and quickly drop down to my haunches when I see the blood running from the corner of his lips. “Is this your blood?”
“No.”
I’m too busy trying to work out where the blood is coming from as I check his arms for any cuts that it’s too late to notice the blade in his hand. It’s thicker than the one I have, longer too.
“Where did you get it?” I hold my hand out.
“It’s my trick to make them weaker.” He smiles. “Jasper taught me how to hide it.”