4. Violet
4
Violet
M y head pounded with enough pressure, it felt as if my eyeballs might explode. The sounds floating to me seemed like a drum roll bouncing along my skull. I couldn’t distinguish if they were coming from my brain or something else.
Everything was always fuzzy. I was in a constant state of drifting in and out of consciousness. Waking up to my worst nightmares, then falling into fantasies of freedom when I slept. The line between reality and dreams blurred completely.
I liked to pretend none of it was real. That the horrible things done to me were a hallucination I could escape. But they weren’t.
I’d never be able to invent the torture I’d gone through. Before this, the worst figments of my imagination had been about dying. That was like a vacation compared to what I was living.
I was safe when I slept. When I opened my eyes, that’s when the real horror began.
So I kept them closed tight; hoping it would stop what was coming. Wishing I’d wake up back home in my studio apartment. Praying for a delay in the inevitable. Just a tiny moment of peace.
“I still can’t find her name.” A female voice filtered through the noise.
My eyes popped open. It had been so long since I’d heard another woman. My body was the next to jerk alive as I shot up.
“Oh.” She gasped, stumbling back. A hand flew to her chest as if I’d scared her. “You’re awake.”
My gaze bounced around the room. It wasn’t my closet with its bare beige walls and tight corners.
The space of this office felt like a football field to me. There was deep red carpeting, a sleek black desk and two armchairs. On the walls were shelves full of black sculptures and books. In front of the burgundy leather couch I sat on was a black coffee table that matched the desk.
Dim lights were visible through the wall of windows, but I couldn’t see what was beyond. “Where am I?”
“A club.” My heart plummeted as a deep male voice spoke.
Sweat broke out along my body as my head whipped to the side. Three men stood like sentries by the door, leaning against the wall. My mouth went dry as I tried to remember if I knew them. If they were a part of my captivity.
If they were, then I couldn’t speak to the woman. I couldn’t beg for her help.
The oldest wore a suit, no jacket. He had dark swept back hair that was a stark contrast to his piercing blue eyes. They were so clear it gave the illusion of looking into a crystal ball.
Next to him was a guy who looked younger, close to my twenty-eight. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His blonde hair was messier, as if someone had run their fingers through it. He was leaner than the first, but with enough muscle to make my throat tight. His eyes were hazel, but only slightly less intimidating.
The third one was the youngest and largest. He didn’t wear a shirt, so it was easy to see the thick muscles rippling under his tan skin. His thighs were like tree trunks visible under his nylon shorts. His shaved dark hair and tattoos fed the image of someone reckless.
“Who are you?” My scream came out like a croak. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, telling me to run. If I’d listened to that instinct before, I might not be in this situation.
I scurried further back on the couch. The armrest hit my spine. Goosebumps broke out on my skin as the fabric covering me slipped with my frantic movement. My fingers shook as I tried to grab it.
The familiar effects of the drugs wearing off slid through my body. I’d been in a state of high or withdrawal for so long I’d lost track of time. Of place. As far as I knew, we were in another country. Another life.
“The owners.” The older one said. “I’m Reid. These are my brothers; Connor.” He nodded towards the blonde. “And Maverick.” He indicated the shirtless guy with tattoos, “And this is our manager, Ivette.”
“We won’t hurt you, little bloom.” Connor smiled, but my stomach turned.
I didn’t trust smiles. Or kindness. It was an illusion. A way to lure you in. I didn’t move from my spot on the couch where I clutched the jacket to my bare chest. I realized it belong to Reid.
“Maybe you guys should step out for a minute so she can get dressed?” It was a question, but Ivette’s tone made it clear there was only one answer. How I wished I had an ounce of her confidence. Her authority.
The men, these brothers who looked nothing alike, stared at me for another moment. Fear slithered to my heart, but then they turned and exited the room. As soon as the lock clicked, I jumped to my feet. My head spun and my body swayed. But this was my chance.
“Please.” Tears welled up behind my eyes. “You have to h-help me.”
My words came out in a rush. I could barely breathe. The hope of being saved was so strong.
Ivette grabbed my hands gently as I reached for her. I didn’t even care about my nakedness or her touch, not when freedom was so close. Not when modesty had been beaten out of me.
“My b-boyfriend he…” How did I explain the guy I was dating suddenly changed when I tried to end things? That he’d kept me locked in a closet for months. Threatened my family to stop me from running. “Oh god… my brothers.”
My heart plummeted. My hands slipped from hers, falling limply to my side. My hope sank as quickly as it had risen. I couldn’t be saved. Too much was at risk. My limbs shook as I collapsed onto the couch again.
Ivette smiled as she dropped a bag on the table in front of me. “Let’s start with getting you dressed. Then we can figure out what to do.”
I groped mindlessly for the bag. Clothes wouldn’t change anything, but I did as I was told. My fingers grasped a few t-shirts. Some were Ivette’s, and she was at least a size smaller than me.
Instead, I pulled a man’s black cotton t-shirt over my head. I’d kill for a bra. Something to feel more covered. In lieu of one, I shoved myself into a gray sweatshirt. It was thick and soft. Pulling up the hood made me feel protected. It was an illusion, of course, but one I greedily took.
Next, I yanked on a pair of leggings. They were skin tight, but the sweater hit my knees, hiding most of my body. A slight masculine scent clung to the clothes. I waited for the nausea to come. For the smell to draw me back into my nightmares, but it never did.
“Here you go.” Ivette dropped a set of white slip on tennis shoes by my feet.
I stared at their pristine color. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I burrowed further into the fabrics. It had been so long since I’d been clothed. Since I’d had a pair of shoes.
“Hey.” She sat on the couch next to me. Her tone was meant to be soothing, but instead it made my stomach clench with fear. It reminded me this would all go away soon. “You can cry if you need to. I would.”
I was glad she didn’t lie to me. Tell me I was safe. Or that everything was okay. Because it wasn’t. Nothing would ever be okay again.
I hastily swept at the tears as the door clicked open. “W-where’s Simon?”
Bile rose in my throat as I said his name. The urge to vomit was so intense I had to breathe through my nose to suppress it.
“Don’t worry about it.” There was a firm note of authority in Reid’s voice.
Maverick gave me a smile that should’ve seemed wrong on his strong, scarred face. “You won’t ever have to see him again, Belladonna.”
“No!” The room spun as I shot to my feet. The ground came up to meet me, but Ivette was fast. She wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me down to the couch. “I have to go back. Please take me back.”
Maverick’s smile disappeared, confirming my initial thought that I should be afraid of these guys. His tone held a threat. “He was hurting you.”
“That’s not love.” Connor’s jaw clenched. I shook my head at their absurdity. At their belief in any kind of love.
“Of course it isn’t.” A choked laugh ripped from my ribs. Breathing became difficult. “He’s a fucking monster, but I have to go back.”
Reid’s crystal blue eyes sharpened. His energy shifted in the room. The urge to run pulsed through me. “Why?”
My fingers clawed at my chest, trying to stop the pain that radiated through it. My lungs burned as I tried to suck air inside.
I pictured my younger brothers. They were grown men now, however I couldn’t help seeing them as children in my mind. I saw them bleeding. Begging for their sister to save them. Saw the life leave their eyes.
I imagined all the things Simon had said he’d do to them. Burn them. Cut them. Shoot them.
Maybe once I could’ve believed it was an idle threat. But now I knew his true nature. He could do it. He could kill them.
And he would, now that I was gone. “Jesus, he’s going to kill my brothers. You have to take me back, please.”
“What are your brothers’ names?” Connor asked.
“Aaron and Craig McCabe.”