Chapter 25
Damien
Four Days Later
‘Fragile Minds’ – Silent Theory
“It’s time to play, feccia.” DeLuca’s voice awakens me, and then I’m shoved onto the cold floor.
My face hits it hard, and even though I try to move my hands forward, they scream out in pain.
A sharp pinch shoves into my back, and when I finally open my eyes, I see that she’s standing over me with her heeled foot on my spine.
“The next step of your training starts today.”
She digs her heel into my back, and from the immense pain, I think she’s stepping on one of the brands from last night.
From the feeling of it, they were sure to trace a perfect line down my spine.
Each burn hurt more than the last, and once they were done, I couldn't even twitch without feeling the pops and tears.
I've never felt so fragile. While I wish my body would harden to stone, it seems it's fusing into glass.
“Enough, Gianna. They need to leave soon. Get him up,” Saconne demands, and DeLuca removes her heel.
Before I can even register the loss, two sets of hands pull me by my shoulders and stand me up right.
Pain explodes between every muscle, and a shooting burn makes its way up my back as I straighten.
The room continues to twirl as the two men step away from me.
“Get dressed,” he orders, and throws dark fabric in my direction.
It hits my chest before it falls to the floor, and I stammer to pick it up, but remember Victoria's warning.
Find that fine line between doing what they say and not letting them break me.
“You know…” I force out a chuckle, wanting to belittle that piece of shit as much as possible.
“I'm more of a jeans and T-shirt type of guy…” I smirk, but it's quickly swiped away with a kick to the back of my knee.
My joints seem to shatter as I hit the stone floor, and when Saconne's hand makes contact with my jaw, it cracks just as harshly.
“Perhaps we should force you to go out naked.”
“Don't be ridiculous, Alessio,” DeLuca coos like I'm a child begging for attention.
“He'll need the pockets.” She grips my jaw in her claws and forces me to look at her.
Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “Get dressed, feccia.
It wasn't a request. Do we need to remind you what will happen if you do not cooperate?”
My blood runs cold as Ashia's face pops into my mind.
The way DeLuca's golden jewelry reflects off the light reminds me of her eyes, and I can almost envision them.
I remember how they soften whenever I look at her, how intensely she stares when she's angry, and the way her pupils dilate when I tell her I love her.
I miss her so fucking much. My body craves her.
These aches and pains are only partially from their assaults.
I've experienced the torment when I'm away from her for too long, and it's worse than anything else they can dish out.
As much as I hate it, I need to do this.
Whatever it is they want me to do could never be worse than losing the love of my life.
I can't be with her right now, and it’s fucking killing me, but I'll never stop trying.
I'm too weak to take them on at this moment, but when the time is right, I'll make it out.
She forces me backward as she releases her grip. I'm quick to catch myself, but her regaled grin never falters. I grab the garments and force myself to stand, no matter how badly it hurts. The room moves like a wave. No one point remains still, but I manage to hold myself steady.
“Strip first. Let me take a good look at you,” DeLuca demands, and I grit my teeth.
An urge to lash out at her for even thinking she can look at me crosses my mind.
The words ‘go fuck yourself’ dance on the tip of my tongue, but her warning lingers.
I haven’t had a shirt on the entire time I’ve been here, and while my jeans are contributing to my quickening demise, I’d rather keep them on than show this vile bitch my dick.
There’s not much of a choice, though, is there?
I can’t put Ashia in danger, no matter what, and if that includes letting a decrepit corpse like DeLuca stare at me naked, then I’m going to have to get over it.
I unbutton my jeans and shove them down, all while eyeing the witch with a defiant stare.
Our glares remain on one another until she drags her eyes down my body, but her inspection stops for a brief moment when she gets to my cock.
It makes my skin crawl, and the smirk on her face sends a wave of nausea rolling through me.
“Oh, the fun I’ll have with you, feccia,” DeLuca taunts, and I can't help but snarl in disgust.
“Get dressed. Now,” Saconne seethes and takes a step towards me, but I comply and pick up the clothes—which makes him halt.
It feels like the same material as my tactical suit, but the color is different, and there’s not as much protection etched into the fabric.
I slip it on as best as I can and run my hand through my hair, willing it to hold in place.
There are countless mattes and tangles, and my fingers get caught at the base of my neck.
Before I know it, my arm is ripped away, yanking my hair with it.
DeLuca steps up a few inches from me, and she grips my jaw once again.
I'm forced to stare down at her as her nails scrape against the hair of my beard. This is the longest it’s ever been, I believe, and it’s extremely itchy.
Her manicured talons get caught in the strands and pull, sending little bolts of pain through my jaw.
I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from bashing her head with mine.
She raises her other hand to show me a card.
It contains only three things—a photo, an address, and special instructions that are written in Italian.
She pulls it away as if she’s worried I’ll examine it for too long, but the jokes on her, because I already did.
I don’t give a fuck what he looks like besides the basic appearance, and I’m not going to try and decipher something I don’t understand.
The address reads Washington D.C., and that means we’re either traveling a long way, or we’re closer to home than I thought.
I honestly don't have any idea where we are.
There hasn't been a single clue in anything they've said or done.
I'm assuming we're at least still in Virginia. Unless she's more lenient with her other minions, we’d have to be close for them to threaten Ashia this way. Plus, if this ‘training’ requires me to do something to that man, I doubt she would allow me to venture too far away when I’m so defiant.
“This is the target. You’ll travel with Cinque and Quattro to eliminate him and complete the job. If you fail, you’ll receive punishment when you return. Is that understood?”
My eyes never leave her stare as I continue to fight an internal battle.
She says when so confidently, like there isn't a doubt in her mind that I'll come back—one way or another.
A part of me knows there isn't any choice. If I want to save my wife and baby, I have to comply. There’s also another side of me, the one that dares her to try and hurt Ashia.
She doesn't know the demon she's testing, and I'm dying to introduce her. I don’t want to do this.
I want to thrash my head forward and break her nose before I mow them all down.
My hands are itching to feel the air leave her lungs as I squeeze her throat, and the only images that appear in my mind are of her dead body.
As if she can sense my urge to tear her apart, she tightens her grip and pushes her face closer to mine—almost like she’s daring me to do it.
“Say, ‘yes, Direttrice. I understand,’” she commands as a hiss. I stare at her a little longer, allowing her to continue seeing the fire behind my eyes.
“Yes, Direttrice. I understand,” I say blankly, but I’m really dying inside. My throat burns with the effort. Her lips curl in that revolting smirk, and she finally releases my jaw to step back.
“Such a good boy.” She pats my cheek, and I fight the urge to bite her hand.
I feel another pinch to my neck, and the room instantly fades. The reaction time when I’m injected is getting shorter, and my stomach drops as I fall to the ground. My body is unable to fight this poison any longer, and that means my windows of opportunity are getting smaller.
A jolt stirs me awake, and as I force my heavy eyes open, I’m shocked for a moment.
We’re in one our HEMTs, and as it rocks back and forth, my body twitches and convulses in pain.
Familiar voices speak all around me. People that I long to see are now within arm’s reach, and I fight to move, needing to grab their attention.
“Alright, Chris is about to blow the warehouse,” Carter says nervously.
“I still don’t fucking like this!” Zeke yells. “What will Hugo do to her when he finds out?”
Hugo?
“We’ll just have to hope that we can get to her before he does anything worse…
” Carter replies solemnly, and that’s when I hear it.
Her whimpers and pained gasps. I look down to the small weight in my hand and focus on the phone’s screen.
I expect to see Ashia strung up by her arms, but Hugo’s face is the only thing in view.
That disgusting scar and hardened face make me homicidal, and I can instantly feel the tightness in my jaw.
“You’re too late, Damien. She’s mine now,” he taunts in an eerie, low voice, and I flinch at her piercing scream that comes from behind him.
“DAMIEN!”