The Darkness Beyond the Daisies

Prologue

Hell–present day

Istood in the center of a shithole miraged as a fancy office.

Dark oak furniture lined the walls, hiding the percentage of the gally floral wallpaper.

Velvet curtains brushed the hardwood floors as a gentle breeze crept in from a barely open window.

They were emerald in color, mimicking and matching the odd accessories scattered in this room. I fucking hated any shade of green.

I examined a trinket on the tabletop, some kind of crystal that shone in the sunlight.

“You like pretty things.” The man before me snorted, as if in shock. “You’d never think it, not judging by your taste in women.”

I ignored the jibe as it left his lips. It would be easy to kill the prick, but then I may not get what I wanted when ambushed by the scum that surrounded him.

The dirty-looking man had an interesting voice, but an unpleasant smile, and what my mother would call ‘an ugly as fuck face’.

His head was down, his pen latched to the paperwork in front of him.

His black eyes danced a sinister dance over a series of photos.

Photos of women covered in bruises and dressed in nothing but their damaged skin.

My steel-colored irises watched him from across the desk as I dropped the crystal without care. It landed on its side; a slight crack appeared in the intricate design.

My agitation caught his attention, pulling his gaze up to me.

“You’re sure this is the one that you want?” the man’s European accent bounced off his scuffed gold fangs as he snarled at the photo in his hands.

“She’s mine. She was already mine. You had no right to take her back.”

“She was a return. Given back by your father in exchange for half of the money he spent on purchasing her.”

“She wasn’t his to return. She was my gift.”

“I’m a little surprised as to why you want her back. I mean, she’s only alive because. . .”

“I don’t care why she is alive. . . but for as long as she is, I own her.”

He examined the photo again. Staring at the scars covering half of the woman’s face.

“These ruined her,” he worded as his dirty hand moved over the ink of the printed photograph.

“I remember her. When she first arrived, she was worth much more. I’m assuming the scars on her face and body do not put you off?

It’s a hard job for me to get even the most depraved of men here to fucking touch her. They like the pretty ones, you know?”

“The scars don’t bother me, Mr. Badeaux.

” I stepped forward, giving him my honest truth.

Leaning down on the wooden surface, I stared him down, my eyes warning him to speed things up.

“I gave her them. They were the only gift she ever received from me that she could keep. But now, I have another, so if you wouldn’t mind hurrying this along. . . I have somewhere to be.”

“Of course, I understand.” The gold teeth appeared again, centered in a vile smile. “Monet, please get 326 ready for her departure. Mr. Heaven would like to leave soon.”

A man of stone, in size and expression, left the room without a word said.

“Do take a seat. Your girl will be here soon. We can discuss payment.” Black eyes dipped to the desk.

“Payment? I own her. I have for the last 10 years.” I slumped myself down on a chair that was probably older than I was myself. Dust clung to my ass cheeks as I squished the particles into the ugly green cushion.

“You did, apparently. But the contract was never in your name. It was in your father’s, and he is no longer with us. He cannot confirm or deny that a refund was made. And I am just a stand in. A stand in to a man who doesn’t give out freebies. So, how quickly do you want this done?”

“How much?” my fingers pushed at the lump in my throat, trying to coax it into a more comfortable position. I didn’t want to pay a dime. But I had money to spare and minutes not to be wasted.

He scribbled a figure onto a cheque and asked for me to sign it. I refused. I wanted no traces to this shithole. I wanted nothing that could trap me back in a cell when this fucker’s dirty dealings covered him in shit.

“I’m happy with the price, but I will pay in cash.” I counted through the notes I pulled from my blazer pocket. I looked smart today. I’d made an effort to get out of my jeans for such a special occasion.

She wasn’t worth as much to him as she was to me. It surprised me. A human life was worth so little to some. Her human life was worth so little to him. How ironic, his would have been worth even less to me, if I didn’t believe God had a purpose for everyone.

And his was surely to suffer, but not today. Time wasn’t on my side.

Echoes came down the hallway; screams of distress pounded at the walls, pleading for safety. My lips curled at the sound. I knew her screams well; I’d know them anywhere. I’d caused enough of them to have their sound lingering in my ears for all eternity.

Excitement pulled me up onto my feet. My body spun to face the door, a smile on my face as I waited to see her appear in the open space of the doorway.

“Shut up with the screaming, whore!” the man handling my goods spoke from outside the room as he neared. “You should be excited. You’re going home.”

She didn’t have time to answer. She rounded the doorway, her legs kicking for freedom as she fought the man’s tight grip.

Her legs were different from how I remembered–thinner, missing the muscle and definition from years of running.

Her oval eyes, brown like chocolate, rounded as they landed on me.

“Hello, Jolie.” I stepped forward, excitement taking my features prisoner. That horrible thought reminded me of my past. Of the pain that this fucking woman had caused me. But not even that pulled the smile off my lips.

“No. No! Take me back. Take me back to my room!” her hoarse voice demanded. Thirst made her sound different. But fear made her sound familiar. “I’ll be good.”

“I don’t doubt it,” gold teeth worded, his head still low as he drew a giant X through her portfolio photo.

“You were always so good. . . already trained. But your stay has come to an end.” He stood, his eyes still on anything but Jolie, not giving her any attention.

He opened a closet and pulled out a piece of brown material. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“That won’t be necessary.” I raised my hand.

Stop. I removed my jacket from my shoulders, mimicking an act of chivalry I’d seen my father do for my mother.

Their faces imprinted in my head, moving my uncomfortable thoughts around into a new order.

“It’s time to go home, Jolie.” My eyes fixed on her entire disarranged image as I tried to pass along the warmth of my jacket.

She turned away, refusing anything from me.

My smile grew at the challenge. “Take the jacket.”

Her eyes twisted to the trafficker who stood behind her naked body, his hands at his side. Gold teeth was right, his men didn’t want to touch her. She pleaded to stay in this hell, to stay the fuck away from me.

“Please. . .” a pathetic whimper left her full lips, the quiet sound echoed in the silent room.

“Jolie, take the jacket.” My patience frayed like the old brown material she was almost dressed in.

She didn’t understand my softer side. So, I showed her a hint of evil.

I showed her a hint of the boy she couldn’t forget.

“Don’t you want to hide all those awful scars?

” My eyebrow raised, but she didn’t see it.

She didn’t see anything as my jacket hurled towards her, hitting her in the face.

“Get fucking dressed. We have somewhere to be. I don’t have time for your disobedience.

You’ve already cost me fucking years of my life. ”

I stepped up close. The smell surrounding me grabbed her attention, pulling her face to me. It wasn’t a fancy cologne. It was the chloroform coating the handkerchief in my trouser pocket.

She didn’t look at my face; she’d seen it often enough in her worst nightmares–her expression told me that much.

I smiled knowing she was fucking dreaming of me.

Her chocolate eyes melted as tears balanced on her dark lashes. Her gaze sat fixed on my brilliant white shirt as I pulled out the handkerchief.

Her dipped head allowed her big hair to cover the left side of her face–the side damaged by my hand.

Perfection ruined forever.

She slipped into the jacket, cringing over the idea of my scent being back on her skin.

I angled her chin. My touch set her on fire, and her internal screams deafened me. Her nostrils flared in anger; a heavy breath escaped the small tunnels. It would only be a second before she inhaled, and I’d be ready for it.

In one quick move, I forced my handkerchief to her face and clapped my hands over her nose, forcing her to submit to the control the chloroform was claiming over her body.

My arms held her tight. She couldn’t fight the man the way she used to fight the boy, even if I wasn’t made of muscle.

Her body limped in my arms and slumber claimed her. I allowed the loan. Because when her eyes open to the sight of daylight, she’d forever be mine.

Fulfilling the promise she’d once made.