Chapter 20 #2
I watched people being beaten up in the hallways of my school.
I saw Chase commit more crimes than anyone could imagine, but most of them were petty.
He always kept the more serious things away from me because he didn't trust me.
I saw some of my high school friends throw rocks at cops while I was trying to step away and show I wasn't part of this. The only time I did something was when my music teacher was stabbed by a colleague of hers in the middle of our class. Then I tried to stop him. I tried to save her, and I failed. Other than that, every time a crime happened around me on the North Shore, I’d attempt to make myself invisible.
Just so I could keep my chances of going to SFU and moving to the South Bank.
Now, I go to SFU. I even have some sort of relationship—whatever that relationship is—with a man from Stoneview, born with a silver spoon in his mouth and who grew up surrounded by other billionaires. And he's the one who ends up roping me into shady shit? This has to be some cruel joke.
As we all expected, Achilles doesn't drive him to a hospital. The whole time, we don’t exchange a word.
I can’t talk, too anxious, and this just seems like a normal day for him anyway.
He does grab one of my hands though, stopping me from rubbing them together.
His one feels hot, and he cups my cold limb as if trying to warm me up.
He stops at one of the many empty warehouses on the North Shore that were abandoned when our town became a practical ghost town years ago.
No company wants to have any sort of business from here.
"What are we doing here?" I croak.
In the back seat, Bennett is barely conscious, whimpers escaping him from time to time.
"This is the place I use for one of my inspirations. I killed Chase's direct boss here, took pictures of him, and showed them to him. I thought it’d keep him from doing something stupid, but clearly he needed a one-on-one kind of lesson."
Because that's not fucked up at all. Some men kill, but Achilles Duval calculates how to inflict the most damage possible far into the future. That’s what differentiates him from the criminals I’m used to.
That’s what makes him the scariest out there.
And when it came to Chase, he did it to protect me.
I try to keep calm and pretend I'm not affected, because how else are you supposed to react when someone you're in a car with, in the middle of nowhere, tells you this? I don’t think you’re supposed to feel the tinge of thrill I do.
That perfect mix of fear–because at any moment, something terrible could happen to me–and excitement that comes with being completely owned and cared for.
I gulp. "Do you… Do you come here often?"
He turns, his eyes roaming over my face. They're shining with exhilaration. "Not since I met you. You're a whole new kind of inspiration. Irreplaceable."
I take a deep breath. "What are we doing here?"
"Spreading the word," he says simply as he gets out.
He opens his door, and then the back door, dragging a barely conscious Bennett out of the car.
"You're one heavy motherfucker," he grunts as he pulls him across the cracked asphalt.
He disappears inside the warehouse for a good fifteen minutes, and I just sit here, knowing he's killing him behind those walls.
I just want this to be over. I want to be somewhere safe and not have to deal with a murderer anymore.
But my wishes aren't often granted when it comes to Achilles.
The only thing that matters is what goes on in that crazy head of his.
He reappears with hands covered in blood and scratches the side of his head, smearing some in his hair. It’s so black that you can barely see it.
"Nyx, baby, what are you doing just sitting here? Come on in."
Come on in. As if he's inviting me for a drink at his house.
He strides all the way to the car, opening my door and offering me a bloody hand to help me jump out. How chivalrous.
Eyeing his hand, I press myself harder against the car seat.
"You're scaring me," I croak, looking up at him.
His head rears back, the shock real on face.
"Scaring you? You've never been safer. And the only time you'll be even safer is once I've passed the word all around the North Shore that the next person who touches you is going to end up like Bennett in there. Come on, join me inside."
He takes my hand, the slimy and warm texture of his skin making me feel sick. When he pulls me out, I'm forced to follow along as he walks back into the warehouse.
"Oh my God," I whimper the second my eyes land on Bennett. I turn my head away, not wanting to see the way he hung him upside down. So high that his head is at about my height, meaning it's about where Achilles's chest is.
"You really are a good girl, aren't you?" Achilles says with fascination.
"Does not being a murderer who tortures people make me a good girl? Or just a normal person?" I snap, my breath catching.
Still refusing to look past the exact point I know I'll see Bennett, I can see Achilles shrug, pushing his hair out of his way as he points a switchblade toward his victim.
"I don't know. It's just not very North Shore of you."
"Well," I say through gritted teeth. "It turns out, some of us are just living normal lives. How surprising."
"I have no intention of keeping you living a normal life. Normal life is for normal people, not for exceptional women like you."
I hear Bennett wake up, gasping before he starts crying out for help. There's a gargle, a cough, and Achilles says, "You look a lot less threatening like this. How about we use the occasion to learn some lessons here, huh?"
I startle when I feel a hand around my wrist. Achilles drags me with him, and the second I step in a puddle of red, I have no choice but to look up.
Too close.
I'm so close to Bennett I can smell his sweat and the copper scent of his blood.
"God, Achilles," I whimper, trying to pull away.
Bennett has two cuts around his collarbones that are dripping to the floor, and his wound from earlier is still bleeding. His arms are hanging below his head, his face practically purple from the blood accumulating there while he hangs by his ankles.
The chain holding him is pulled all the way to a lock on the wall, and Achilles laughs softly when he sees me eyeing it.
"Oh, no, no. Your na?ve empathy is not getting him out of this." He whistles like a man calling his disobedient dog, and Bennett startles. "Look at her arm."
Still holding me by my wrist, he lifts my arm slightly, pointing his knife at the bruise, and I flinch.
"Nyx." He huffs, like a complete psycho whose victims just don't get it. "This knife would slice straight to my heart if I hurt you. You have nothing to be scared of."
He clearly doesn't like that I stay quiet, not relaxing at all.
"Baby, look at me." He doesn't give me a choice, putting his hand holding the knife against my cheek so I look up at him. "You're safe."
His lips collide with mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth, forcing me to go along, seducing me with the power he holds over me. He gets rough, and I feel his hips pressing against mine. His hard cock shows his excitement, and I can't help but tingle in return, my body softening.
"Say it. That you're safe," he demands, his forehead resting on mine.
"I'm safe," I croak, breathless.
His eyes narrow as he pulls away, not convinced. "That'll do for now. I know you're trying your best. Don't move."
Releasing me, he turns back to Bennett as he pulls out his phone. Wait, that's not his phone. He turns it upside down and puts the screen in front of Bennett's face to unlock it.
"Alright," he announces. "Time to get to work."
He starts taking pictures of Bennett but doesn't seem to like the results.
"No, no," he mumbles. "Hold on."
He records a video of himself cutting into his skin some more, and I take a few steps back as I wince.
"Achilles, please stop," I plead as I keep walking away.
Without looking back, he points the knife at me. "I told you not to move. Don't make me regret not tying you to a chair for this."
I freeze, not moving a single inch.
"Good girl."
His deep voice resonates down to my toes. Achilles isn't one for praise. It’s rare, the rarest diamond in a dangerous mine. Sometimes it's pointless to seek it, and when it happens, there's no fighting the effect it has on me.
To him, it's like it didn't even happen. He's back to filming the man who put a bruise on my arm.
"What did you do, Bennett?" Achilles asks calmly.
"I-I— Fuck let me go…"
The video cuts.
"Hey," Achilles says impatiently. "The quicker you admit what you did, the quicker we can pass the word around, and the quicker this is over. I know you're not the sharpest tool in the shed, but admitting your crime is in your best interest here."
Crime. Crime. A bruise on my arm.
"Okay, action," he says simply as he starts filming again. "What did you do?"
"I don’t know I…I…threatened to kill you, man. I'm sorry!" he cries out in pain.
Achilles's unimpressed face could kill Bennett on the spot.
"What the fuck," he deadpans. "Do you just not see her or something? The bruise." And then, he loses his cool. "The bruise," he insists in a chilling voice.
"I'm sorry!" he whimpers. "Please…"
Achilles huffs. "This is your last chance before I get mean. Tell your friends what happened. Action."
"Help!" he screams. "Fuck…I-I hurt her. I'm sorry that I hurt her."
"Who did you hurt?"
Behind the phone, Achilles raises his hand, doing a horizontal twirl with his index finger to nudge him to keep talking.
"N-Nyx. Nyx Mayer."
Achilles nods, almost giddy as he whispers his line to Bennett, "Achilles Duval's girl."