Chapter 21
W hen I spoke to Renato I hit a dead end. Again. After that Amaris disappeared and I assume she went to the bathroom. While she was gone I was able to pry some information out of some of the drunk guys standing around. The bastard set up this party to show Amaris off to a market of potential buyers. He is trying to sell her off.
The murderous rage that consumed me was almost enough to have me turn around and pop a bullet between Renato’s eyes. But I know I’d be shot down before I could have the satisfaction of watching him fall.
What is he playing at? We have never dealt in the skin trade industry before.
Luckily, I’ve learned to maintain my poker face when needed. All it takes is getting a couple more drinks in these guys and they start singing like a canary. So far, they’ve given me the date and time, but not a location. I’m getting her away from Renato and all of this bullshit as soon as I can.
When Amaris joins me again, something is off. It’s enough to redirect my thinking to worrying about what could have happened to her when I wasn’t around. Did somebody say something, or worse, did they try something? She might also be on the verge of another anxiety attack with how many new faces she’s being exposed to. I didn’t even think about that beforehand.
When we get in the car, the silence is killing me so I ask, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“I’m just tired.” It’s a short and curt response like the rest of them have been. Luckily, the drive back to the house is short. I plan on prying as soon as she gets inside her house.
Before I get a chance to speak after shutting her front door, she turns around unexpectedly fast and pins me against the door with her knife to my neck, much like she did the first time I came inside uninvited.
Even with her knife to my neck I still adore her. Her eyes are full of unshed tears and it’s like a stab to my heart. I have no idea what’s going on in that pretty little head, but I do know that death would be sweet if it was at her hands.
She is the only person on this green Earth that has that power over me. I am in the palm of her hand whether she knows it or not. At any point, she can crush me and I would welcome it.
“I was going to wait, but I can’t! This was all a stupid game to you, wasn’t it? You are just like him. Were you going to rape me like your dad did to my mom or wait, no, you can skip that part since you got what you wanted, anyway. So what’s next, huh?”
My mind is trying to catch up but it’s swirling with confusion. What the fuck is she talking about. My eyes bounce between hers and it dawns on me. A memory from when I was eight years old flashes in my mind.
I’m never up this early, but Papa wanted me to go with him to wherever we are going now. He woke me up before Mama was even awake and he looked angry, too. It scared me.
I’m quiet in the back seat, but he keeps speaking to himself out loud. Bad words like ‘fuck’, ‘whore’, and ‘bitch’ keep flying out of his mouth. I just hope he isn’t mad at me, again. I try to listen as he speaks, maybe I’ll find out where we are going.
“They think they can get away with this, but they’re wrong.”
“If I can’t have her, no one can.”
Who is he talking about?
Soon after, we come to a stop in front of a pretty, light brown house with two black cars in the driveway and a big front yard. There are all different colors and types of flowers decorating the entrance.
Papa turns to the man sitting next to me by the opposite car door. “Cameo, stay here with my son until you get my call.” The man nods once and Papa tells the other man in the passenger seat to go inside with him.
They both get out the car and Papa taps on my window twice, so I roll it down. He stares at me with a scary look in his eyes that gives me a bad feeling about all this. “Today, you, along with everyone else in that house, will learn what it means to fuck with Renato Kincaid. No mercy is ever given.” With that, they both walk around the back of the house.
My eyes search the new neighborhood for anything interesting and they stop on a little boy who seems to be around my age playing outside with his ball. I wish I could get out of this car and run to the little boy so we can both play.
I know better, though. Friends aren’t allowed. At least I can still see my cousins every once in a while.
A loud ringing cuts through the silence, startling me with a gasp. The man has a short conversation then looks at me and motions toward the house with his head. “Let’s go, kid.”
When we get to the arched door, the man who went inside with Papa is waiting for us. He leads us into a living room, but Papa is nowhere to be seen. My feet stop working when my eyes land on the barely recognizable man tied to a chair, bleeding with cuts and bruises everywhere with a piece of tape covering his mouth. My heart races wildly in my chest and my body breaks out in a sweat at the sight, but I’m frozen. I can’t move.
I wanna go home.
Papa finally walks in with a woman in his arms, his friend helping him carry her out. Is she okay? Is he helping her?
They drop her carelessly to the floor and I don’t think they’re helping her anymore.
Who is she? What’s happening?
Her hands are tied together with something white that’s stained with blood and her whole body shakes from the force of her wails and cries. I’m assuming the blood on her hands came from the wound bleeding out from her stomach. Her curly, dark brown hair is wild, sticking to her face with the sweat, tears, and streaks of blood marring it. Why does no one else seem to care about what’s happening?
What about Mama?
Why is Papa doing this?
“Stop! Papa, what are you—" Cameo slaps his hand over my mouth and drags me to a far wall, silencing me until the first tear falls. That’s when I worry Papa will see me crying and punish me, too. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and count to ten to force the tears down, but it hardly works.
When my eyes open again, Papa is shoving his pants down and crawling over the woman’s body speaking tenderly. “ Preziosa , you will take me and you will like it while your poor, defenseless marito watches you die like the whore you are.” He turns to the man in the chair who is still crying and struggling. “You never should have won her. She was meant to be mine, traditore . None of this would be happening if you only knew your place.”
The lady spits at Papa and it lands on his neck. He just wipes it off and his facial expression changes in a split second. “Don’t worry, cunt. I’ll put that mouth to good use.” He says, grabbing her cheeks roughly with one hand.
“Burn in hell, Renato.” Halfway through saying his name, Papa reaches down with his free hand and pinches her nose until her mouth opens, then he takes the opportunity to stick his manhood into her mouth. Shutting my eyes again, I focus on my breathing and not freaking out. The tears have long since taken over me. It isn't until Papa yells that my eyes open without permission.
“You bitch, did you just bite me?” Papa shoots backward then backhands her. He looks at his friends and cocks his head toward the man in the chair. Cameo leaves my side to hand my papa a pistol. A pistol he trains on the woman's head, shushing her and spreading her legs while his other friend trains his gun on the man in the chair.
Taking the only chance I have to get out of there, I run out the nearest door down a long, dim hallway around the corner into the last room I can find. It’s a baby pink playroom with strawberries painted on the walls and toys scattered all over the carpet. Leaving the door slightly ajar, I venture deeper inside both admiring the room and looking for a place to hide.
I suck in a breath when I stub my toe on something. Looking down, the carpet is slightly raised. Prying the wood board up reveals a dark, hidden room. The small amount of light from the room shines a spotlight on something that moved. Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s a little girl in a purple dress hiding, too. She’s rocking back and forth, crying, shaking. Her brown eyes are wide with terror and fresh tears, but she’s quiet with her little hand covering her mouth. She stops rocking as we stare at each other and slowly shakes her head no.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I whisper. After another second to make sure she heard me, I run out of the room in the opposite direction. Right as I reach the next room I want to hide in, someone picks me up from behind, dragging me away.
“Can’t have you wandering around and getting lost,” Cameo’s gruff voice meets my ears.
When I’m dropped on my feet again, we’re back in the living room and Papa has his pants back on, but the lady on the floor is barely breathing. I want to ask why no one will help her, but if what they have been doing this entire time has shown me anything, it’s that they don’t want this to be over quickly. They aren’t going to help anyone.
If I was big, I would stop Papa and all his friends. Trying will only make me next on his list, probably.
Pow. Pow. Pow.
The tears are back, harder than the first time as my stomach churns with a sickening mix of horror and disbelief. The woman is dead. She isn’t struggling anymore, but the man in the chair looks sicker than I feel. Papa looks…happier than I have ever seen him. A smile takes over his face, but it isn’t a good one in any way.
He’s a monster.
Walking up to the man in the chair, he rips the tape off of his mouth and says, “How does your throw up taste, figlio di puttana ?” The man opens his mouth after a second to say something, but Papa strikes him with his ringed fist.
I want mi mama .
At this point, I’m borderline hyperventilating next to Cameo who won’t move a muscle, much less let me run away from this scene straight out of a nightmare. My hazy vision from the endless tears do little to hide the monstrosity going on in front of me. Last night's dinner makes a reappearance as I puke it all onto the clean carpet.
Mama, save me. Please.
That’s my last thought before everything catches up to me and the dizziness takes over, until all the pain and chaos fades to black.
It’s a memory I’ve never been able to forget, and for the longest time, I was sick to the point of throwing up whenever I thought about the mere act of sex.
Renato told me her parents left her here. He was the one who slaughtered them, took them from her . Then lied to me about it for years.
Fuck, I’m an idiot. What else is he lying about?
“No, no, no. That's not…You got your memory back?” Is all I manage to get out.
“I should stick my stiletto right here,” she presses the knife down on my jugular, “and watch you bleed out.”
“Amaris, let me explain. Please. I didn’t know they were your parents, I was only eight. Yes, this started out as revenge, but I promise you it’s more than that now. I’m never going to let anything happen to you, you have to believe me.”
The anger she felt towards me the day I crashed into her makes sense now. As much as I regret trying to kill her, it brought us together and I can’t regret that, or let her go.
She removes her knife from my neck, but puts both of her hands on top of her head and takes a step back.
“I don’t know what made me think I could trust you. God, I am so stupid for building this amazing image of you in my head when this whole time you were the devil in disguise.” She pushes me back against the door with a finger to emphasize.
“I never thought I’d be worth the work it would take to piece myself back together, little fox. You changed that, you made me want to live again.” I take a step forward and she takes a step back. “It’s you, foxy. It’s always been you for me, even when I didn’t know it. Let me come home.”
She scoffs, looking around the room. “You are home.”
“No, you are my home.”
“Get out, Kylo. Leave. I want to be alone.”
“You can be mad at me, kick me, punch me, hate me, even stab me if it makes you feel better, but I can’t let you go. I won’t.”
She shoves me backward with new tears forming in her eyes. “You said it yourself. You aren’t designed to love, right? My mistake thinking you were capable of anything aside from destruction. You took advantage of me when I was in possibly the most vulnerable state of my life, after you tried to fucking kill me, and expect me to just forget about it? All of you deserve to rot in Hell!” she seethes.
“Renato spun the story to me, Amaris. Ever since I could remember, he has poisoned you in my mind with what I finally know are lies. He made me believe your parents murdered my mother when I was a boy. I saw her lifeless body and everything. And he convinced me that it was your fault somehow all these years because he believes in an eye for an eye. He…He made me...” I run my hand through my hair and then over my face, attempting to collect my thoughts. Clearing my throat, I provide, “He lied to me, and for that I wrongfully accused you of so much that I regret. If I could go back and change everything, I promise you I would.”
Her confusion is evident, but her anger overpowers any other emotion. Furrowed brows, a pink nose, and a tear-streaked face stare back at me and the sight burns my chest, knowing I’m the cause of her pain.
How ironic.
“Well, you can’t! There is nothing you can do to change what happened. For all I know, that’s just another lie you came up with.”
I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off immediately. “I don’t want to hear anything else from you. I don’t want to see your stupid face or hear your stupid voice. What I want is for you to leave. Get. Out. Now.”
She opens the front door, but won’t look me in the eye. She can have her space right now, but this is far from over. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.