Chapter Fourteen
V incent slumbers next to me as questions run wild through my mind. I think about what we did.
Why do I want to be with him so much?
Why do I lose my mind every time we touch?
What does it make me, if I don't feel bad because my brother is dead and I crave his killer?
Sighing, I get out of bed. There's no way I can think while still in bed with Vincent. Stretching, I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face.
As the droplets drip down my face, I assess myself. There's no way I can live with myself if I stay here. If only to show my anger toward Vincent for killing Carlos. A small rebellion. I'll leave, go to town, and ... And then what? My brain mocks me.
Running isn't the answer, but I also know that even if my body is in a constant state of need for Vincent, I cannot bow down. Walking into the closet, I change into some jeans and a T-shirt. Using a hoodie, I cover my head and pick up Espresso from the edge of the bed.
Taking one last look at Vincent, I sigh.
" Mi peque?a reina, te amo ." His words cause a lump in my throat. His snore is the only sign he's still asleep. Slowly, I leave the room and expect to run into some of his guards. When I don't, I feel myself getting antsy. Why wouldn't Vincent be guarded?
"Snap out of it," I tell myself, and open the front door. No alarm goes off, and the back of my neck tingles with worry. A chuckle startles me and I look up to see a robust man with a sack headed my way.
"You made my job easy. Thank you." He laughs and I bolt out the door. God, was Vincent right all along? I'm not safe out of this house. No, he forgot I'm not safe inside either. Espresso clings to me as I dash through the gate house off the side of the garage area.
I make my way through the garden and get lost within the rose bushes. If I wasn't panicked, I'd take time to enjoy the smell of the roses and the beauty of them. As it is, time seems to stand still as I run for my life. I can hear multiple booted feet clunking behind me against the gravel.
This was not what I thought I'd be doing. I was going to run to town and clear my head. To find some kind of semblance of peace, then come back to Vincent. I'd take my punishment, get an orgasm, and promise not to be bad again.
"Girly, if you don't stop running, I'm gonna hurt ya."
Shivers run through me at the man's threat. There's nothing to lose at this point.
"Vincent!" Screaming his name, I dash to the left, hoping this will take me back to the house.
"Fuck, if he wakes up, we're all dead," one of my pursuers says, and I continue to scream. The house comes into view and I breathe a little easier. A man steps out in front of me and I halt, almost dropping Espresso.
Gulping, I move toward the right, but he's taller and faster. The panic I had begun to feel has completely taken over and I feel the way my head swims. Please, not now. Don't do this. Think, Aribella. Think!
The man grabs my hair and tugs me to a stop. Espresso hisses at him as another stranger comes up and takes him by the neck.
"No. Please don't hurt him." All the men show up huffing and puffing. There has to be at least twenty of them. The one in the house comes forward with the bag. He throws it over me and something sinches around my neck.
Black floaters begin to cloud my vision, along with white ones, causing the dizziness to suffocate me. The stress is too much for my body to handle. I know I'm going to faint. Someone picks up my arms and brings them behind my back. As they tie them up, I sway.
"Let me go!" Even to my ears, I can hear the muffled words. There's no way I'm being heard from inside this bag.
"You fight me, and I'll make your life worse than what it's about to be," a raspy voice utters the words, and all I can do is what I'm told. It's not like I have a choice. These men mean business. I have no doubts that they'll hurt me.
If I had only stayed in bed, would they have hurt Vincent, too? Where were the house guards? Is Miss Terrington all right? I'm working myself into a tizzy as I'm guided toward an unknown destination.
We seem to trek for an hour before we stop. "Get her in the car and let's get out of here before the drugs we gave Vincent wear off."
I'm shoved into a seat and the person demands I move over. How does he expect me to do that? I can't see and my arms are tied. Another person to the left of me grabs my arm and left thigh, roughly pulling me over.
The car doors shut, and the engine comes alive. "We’ve got to get some pavement between us. If we don't, we're screwed."
“Relax, that sucker is out cold.”
The sound of the second man’s voice makes me blink. He sounds so familiar. Surely they aren’t guards, are they? Surely not. I'm almost one hundred percent certain Vincent would maim them if they betrayed him.
The car ride is silent, but at least I have calmed myself down enough that the floaters have disappeared for now. A hand runs up my right thigh and I jerk away from the touch. The men laugh at me as the person on the left starts to touch me like the one on the right.
"I can see why Vincent wants her. She has luscious skin." So much for not being panicked.
"Stop touching me." I move my legs up and down, but a hand comes to my throat and squeezes until I choke.
"Keep it up. We like them feisty," the man on my left whispers. "Spread your legs."
My heart rate goes from calm to too high in a matter of seconds. The pounding in my head worsens as I scream. The last thing I hear as I lose consciousness is cruel, ringing laughter.
"Why the fuck isn't he dead?"
Pitch black encompasses me, but I don't feel dizzy, like I'm about to pass out. Why is it dark? Trying to move, I feel the restraints. Oh, God. Think Aribella. Closing my eyes, I count to ten and breathe until I'm steady. I feel the scratchy material around my face and realize that the sack is still on my head.
My arms aren't behind my back anymore. They are above my head and I feel the cool touch of metal around my wrists. I'm still in my clothes because I feel the material of the hoodie touching my chest. Thank goodness they didn't strip me.
Alright, they didn't take advantage of me. That's something to be thankful for. Right?
"You know that Alfonso would have our heads if we killed him. Besides, we did the next best thing. We killed his guards."
On no. Did they kill Mossimo too? My head swims with the knowledge that I may have caused Vincent to lose his men. No. I can't think like that. This isn't my fault. I keep trying to tell myself that I'm not the cause of all this drama. There's no way I would have known this would happen if I tried to leave the house.
The door opens and I hear four distinct voices. This is the one thing I was afraid of and always have been. I thought it was an irrational fear, but now it's coming true. Men surround me while I'm rendered helpless.
"Well. Well. Well." A man with a thick hispanic accent says. His cologne is so strong, I want to cough.
"It looks like Domingo was holding out on us." The person touches me and I flinch away. Not being able to see who or what is coming at me makes me angry.
"Don't you dare move away from me!" The person grips my neck in a hard grip and it's the first time I realize that Vincent may have grabbed me, but it was never like this.
Staying as still as I can, my body trembles with fear as the bag is removed from my face. The light blinds me.
"Ah, I can see why he would want you." The man in front of me is in a suit, hair slicked back, and has a mustache. He looks like an older version of Vincent. But this man has a jagged scar that goes from his right eyebrow, across his cheek, over his nose, and down to the left portion of his chin.
Taking a deep breath, I squint my eyes at him. "And you should know better than to take something from Vincent."
The man's hand comes out so fast that I don't see it until after he slaps me. My head snaps to the side with a force that causes my neck to jerk painfully. Trying not to cry, I keep my eyes averted from his.
"That son of a bitch will learn who runs Texas before this is all over." He straightens his jacket and turns to leave.
"Work her over, but no one fucks her until I do."
A nightmare. I have to be in a nightmare. This cannot be real. Surely, I'm going to wake up at any moment and I'll be in Vincent's arms. But the door slams, leaving me with three men looking at me like I'm a piece of meat.
"Yousef, you take the left. Carmichael, take the right. I’ve got the front." The one in the middle says as he gets closer to me. He stinks of alcohol, cigar smoke, and sweat. The other two don't smell good either, and I gag. They laugh right before the guy on my right punches my boob.
I cry out in shock at first, but then the pain radiates into me. The guy on the left does the same thing as the first one.
"Beg us for mercy and we may stop," the middle man says.
The pain is horrible as they keep hitting me. If I wasn't trussed up by my wrists, I'd have already fallen to the ground. But, I won't beg. Not for these men, anyway. "Not in a million years." I wheeze, and the middle man punches me in my mouth.
My head bounces back and lulls to the side as my eyesight goes blurry. The metallic taste of blood makes me sick to my stomach.
"Bitch, you'll learn not to goad me." The man on the right side of me hits me low in my back as the man on the left punches me between the shoulders.
"Ready to be a good little bitch?"
Tears run down my cheeks as snot runs down my nose. My lips burn and my body aches, but I won't do it. "Never," I whisper as someone hits my stomach. Whimpering, I know without a doubt my mind is going to shut itself down at any moment.
The floaters are back to the point where I can't see. I thought at first it was the tears, but it's the amount of spots in my eyes. It's the only thing I see before my vision turns back from one of the men hitting me in my head.