Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
LILIANA
B iting my lip, I hope Rachelle enjoys this small respite I want to give her. Ignacio was true to his word, but instead of camping tents, he found gauzy white curtains, and set up a tent from the wood pergola in the backyard. It took a lot of patience, but when he added fairy lights, he took my breath away.
The projector screen was much easier for him to set up, and he made sure there was a table set up for the mini projector. It’ll hook up to my phone to play any movie I could possibly want. I added blankets, a mattress, and loads of pillows under the tent to complete the aesthetic. This looks like the perfect movie space now.
“I’m going to get out of your way,” he muttered as he left. “I hope she likes it.”
This was a glimpse of the boy who used to beat people up that were mean to me, who gave me his slice of cake in exchange for peanut butter pie. The school had it down that I was allergic to chocolate instead of peanut butter. It wasn’t until I was in the sixth grade that I finally had my father fix it so it wouldn’t kill me.
Thankfully, I’m only allergic if I ingest it, but it was my dumb way of keeping this boy in my life as long as possible.
God, I used to adore Ignacio Reyes. There’s so much good inside of him, it’s simply shrouded in so much darkness, it’s being strangled.
Now, I’m waiting for her to come back downstairs, nervous energy flooding my system. Arms wrapped around myself, I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet in front of the stairs.
“I see there’s a proper movie area set up in the backyard now,” Mr. Emil teases me as he joins me at the base of the stairs.
“Ah, yes. Nacio did that,” I murmur. I don’t know what else to say, because I have a lot of feelings surrounding his son.
“That was nice,” he murmurs. “For what it’s worth, I really don’t think he knew about the grade doctoring.”
“I don’t either, but I’m still really angry with them as a collective,” I sigh. “How far is this going to go before it gets out of hand?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “A part of me wants to put a call into the King Society. I just am unsure if it’ll make things worse or not.”
I almost forgot Mr. Emil was also a King once. Well, still is, since the society is for life.
“Did you kill the girl you put into the system as your bet?” I ask, shuddering. I’m no stranger to death, knowing my father gets his hands dirty for a living, but the Kings’ torture is completely different.
“It was a boy,” he says. “He was the son of a ruthless mafia man. I’m convinced Doyle would have grown up to be a serial killer if we hadn’t put him down like the dog he was. The situation back then was very different.”
Nodding, I think about that.
“Everyone is so quiet about the Kings,” I confess. “In my mind, they’re all bullies preying on people they think don’t belong in our world.”
“That’s what my son and his friends are doing,” he grunts. “They allowed their anger and self righteousness to lead them down this path. It didn’t need to be like this. They’re all brilliant boys, but also idiots.”
My lips curve up into a smile I don’t feel, because he’s right. They chose Rachelle for all the wrong reasons. She makes them feel things they didn’t like. Even when Nacio first met her, my girl threatened him.
“I’ll have to agree with that,” I say as Rachelle begins to descend down the stairs. “Hey, you’re done.”
She looks comfortable, her hair plaited down her back. I haven’t seen her hair braided before, and it makes her features stand out. Her cheeks pinken at my words, looking even more beautiful.
I want to beat Jared black and blue for using her hair against her.
“I am,” she says. “I know this is kind of random, but I think I want to cut my hair.”
“Okay,” I tell her. “I can take you to my hair girl if you want?”
“Thank you,” she says, looking more relaxed. There’s a lot of emotion in those two words, making me think there’s more to the reason she wants to do this.
They say that trauma can live in your hair, and cutting it can help release it. If that’s true, then I believe cutting it is the best option.
“Do you need anything else from your mother or I? I believe she’s going to go to bed early, and I have some business to take care of,” Mr. Emil says. “For those interested, I think I may be closer to finding the men who shot at you. There was definitely a driver and a passenger in that SUV.”
“We should be fine,” Rachelle says. “I hope you do find them, though school is over next week. Being worried about getting gunned down in a parking lot is making me more paranoid than usual.”
“Same,” I confirm. “It’s been on my mind more than I care to admit when we have to stay after school. I thought about it when we left today too.”
“Then, hopefully I can help you rest assured that the threat is eliminated after tonight,” he says. “I need to run some interrogation first to be sure.”
“Do you need any help?” Ignacio asks from the top of the stairs.
“Only if you can be in the car in ten,” his father says, turning away.
Deciding to use this as our excuse to leave, I capture Rachelle’s hand. Smirking, her feet almost trip over themselves as she follows me out.
“I don’t want to know what is involved in an interrogation,” she murmurs.
“I’m sure it’s not pretty,” I agree. I’ve caught glimpses, but it doesn’t bother me. This is the world I’ve grown accustomed to.
It’s completely different for Rachelle though. Julia doesn’t seem to be bothered by Mr. Emil’s job, which is good. It would suck to marry someone who can’t accept a part of who you are.
Walking outside, I take a deep breath of the night air. The sun is long gone now, and the backyard gently glowing with the fairy lights.
“That’s pretty,” she says, eyes wide. “How did you make that happen so quickly?”
While she was gone for hours, it would have taken me forever without her stepbrother’s help since the pergola is so tall.
“Ignacio asked to help me,” I say honestly. “For what it’s worth, he does feel badly.”
“He always does,” she sighs, making me wonder what else has happened. “He has a problem with closed doors, though. He caught me naked in my room when I was headed to the shower.”
“Ignacio,” I groan. “Did he leave?”
“Nope,” Rachelle says. “He stayed for my entire shower, and even got really judgey about my bathing habits. Why is he such an asshole?”
“That’s been my question for ages,” I mutter. “I basically made us a comfy bed under the stars. Come see.”
Her eyes lighting up as she looks around, she sighs happily.
“It looks so comfortable, I’m afraid I may fall asleep,” she breathes.
She’s not wrong, it’s been a fucking day.
“So you can fall asleep and I’ll snuggle you,” I say sweetly. “I just want to do one thing that doesn’t revolve around those assholes and the consequences they’re bringing down on you.”
“Yes, please,” she says, taking her shoes off outside the tent to crawl inside.
Turning on the projector, I choose a movie for us on a streaming site, and then dim the fairy lights so it’s dark. Joining Rachelle, I lay propped on a pile of pillows, holding my girl until she falls asleep fifteen minutes later.
I meant what I said. How long she stayed awake didn’t matter. I simply wanted to give her something good to fall asleep to.
I’m getting drowsy by the second movie, playing with Rachelle’s hair when Ignacio startles me by popping his head in at the entrance of the curtained tent. Before he appeared, I was enjoying watching the stars just as much as the movie.
“You’re like a damn ghost,” I hiss, the blood thundering in my ears. “I’m falling asleep, Rachelle is comfortable, and I don’t want to move.”
“It’s important,” he sighs. “Our dads found the guys who are responsible for trying to mow you down. I think you and Rachelle need to hear this.”
“I was trying to…” Huffing out a sigh, I realize I’m being ridiculous as I feel heat behind my eyes. There’s no room for tears in my life, loving Rachelle can’t make me weak.
Yes, I know it’s only been a few months, but I’m absolutely in love with this girl. While her fire is what makes her stand out, I think it’s her vulnerability that pulled me into her web. She keeps swinging, yet she’s willing to let me see some of the pieces of her she feels are broken beyond repair.
“Rachelle,” I whisper, my fingers running through her hair again. I unwound her braid while she was sleeping to allow me to play with it, so it’s wild and twisted.
“Wait, what were you saying that you were trying to do?” Ignacio asks, crawling further into the tent.
His dark hair is freshly washed, and he’s wearing different clothes. I wonder if he had to shower due to the bloodshed from the interrogations, though I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m worried Rachelle will take one look at the seedier parts of our lives and run.
Moment of truth to see if she can handle this.
“Doesn’t matter now,” I murmur as she begins to stir. “Hey, beautiful. We have to go see Mr. Emil and my dad.”
“What happened?” she asks, her voice cracking and full of sleepiness.
I know I’m not imagining things as Ignacio’s eyes soften slightly for her.
“They think we should hear what they discovered from their interrogation,” I say carefully.
Ignacio purses his lips, wiggling further into our bed of blankets.
“It’s a little more than that,” he says. “I’m going to need you to do whatever you need to do to stay calm without hurting yourself, okay? The compartmentalizing thing you do? Use it tonight.”
Rachelle sits up, rubbing her eyes before focusing on him.
“That sounds really bad,” she says. “Your hair is wet. I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to know why.”
“My dad is doing this thing where he gives me really disgusting tasks to do when he’s unhappy with me,” he grumbles. “I got blood in my hair, and he doesn’t want me to walk through the house looking like a horror show.”
“Okay then,” Rachelle mutters. “I was really comfortable.”
“If you can stomach it after this and you’re a good girl, I’ll make you hot chocolate. I know you love it,” Nacio says.
“As long as we can agree that I’m in no way your ‘good girl,’ then I think I can live with that agreement,” she says.
“You really should join the debate team next year,” he says, shaking his head as he crawls back out.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” I sigh.
“I didn’t think it would be,” she says. “If I don’t tell you later, this was a really great first date.”
My heart cramps as she crawls out of the tent and I follow her. This girl. She’s so appreciative of my efforts, despite the interruption.
Slipping on our shoes, we walk to the fence and walk into the front yard without going through the house. There’s no reason to wake up Julia if we don’t need to. Mr. Emil’s SUV is in the driveway, and Nacio gets into the driver seat.
I remember Mr. Emil said he was going to drive, but didn’t think he’d be taking the family vehicle. There’s a hint of irony to all of this, and I feel a little out of it since I was falling asleep earlier. Yawning, I shake my head as I get into the vehicle with Rachelle.
The drive is quiet, and Ignacio is intently trying to keep from speaking as well. I feel like he’s working on his father’s orders, which makes this all so much worse.
“What did he mean about compartmentalizing things?” I ask Rachelle quietly.
“Sometimes, I have to shove really big emotions into a box so I can function,” she murmurs. “I started doing it after the rape. It doesn’t always work, which is why I was still cutting. Ignacio enjoys incessantly asking questions until I start answering them.”
“Dude, you really need to start respecting the closed door situation,” I complained to him.
“I didn’t think about it,” he huffs. “I didn’t know she was going to shower, and I wanted to talk to her.”
“Fucking knock!” I yell. “Why is that so difficult?”
“It’s not,” he mumbles.
“The better question is why he refused to leave after he found me naked,” Rachelle mutters. “Creeper watched me shower.”
“Hey, I saved you from your scrubber thing,” Nacio says, making me wonder what the hell happened when she was upstairs.
“You mean her loofah?” I ask him. “Such a big, strong man, you.”
Rachelle smirks, shaking her head as Ignacio pulls into a warehouse. It’s almost one in the morning now, which means the warehouse appears as if it’s looming against the darkened sky. There’s no street lights here, so I’m on edge as we get out and are hustled inside by Nacio.
Mr. Emil walks out from the back of the warehouse, appearing angry, though immaculately clean. His short hair is messy though, which means things haven’t gone smoothly.
“Rachelle,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I thought this was a case of a rival fucking with me, but it’s not. It appears to be worse.”
“Worse how?” I ask, eyes wide.
Rachelle’s hands are fisted at her sides as she gazes at her stepfather, waiting for him to tell her. She’s deadly still, shields up as high as possible.
“It’s Colton,” Mr. Emil murmurs. “The asshole joined a gang in prison to save his ass. Prison isn’t typically very good to those who hurt children, but he’s been telling everyone who will listen that’s not what happened.”
“Dad caught these two on our property earlier today,” Nacio says. “Apparently kidnapping was on their to-do list.”
“So he’s trying to hurt me from prison?” she whispers. “Once he was put away, that was supposed to be it. I was done.”
“The gang leader got a message from him that he wants to apply for parole, but as long as you’re alive, they won’t let him,” Mr. Emil says. “I looked into it, that’s a lie, Colton apparently wants to fuck with you.”
“So we’re killing them for their efforts,” Ignacio says. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but…”
“You need to see the light leave their eyes,” Mr. Emil growls. “No one fucks with my daughter and lives. Come with me.”
There’s nothing we can do but follow, and I can feel the tension in Rachelle’s body. I can only imagine what she’s thinking as a door opens to our right, revealing a long room with a drain in the middle of it and two bodies hanging from chains.
Each of them are naked outside of their boxers, and they both have cuts and burn marks on their skin. My father stands to the side with a scowl, brands heated and at the ready so we can send this scum back to their boss.
Hiding or destroying bodies isn’t needed when they want to prove that fucking with Rachelle and I is an expensive hobby. I also can take myself out of the equation, since I was only in the school parking lot because I was with her at the time.
Rachelle was the target all along, and that makes me fucking livid.
“ Mija , these are the pieces of shit who believe Colton,” Mr. Emil says. “Would you like to explain to them why I’m going to make them an example?”
“Colton is in jail for rape, because that’s what he did to me,” Rachelle says clearly to the men in front of her. There’s no inflection, no anger, merely a monotone of information. “I’m not responsible for his inability to understand from prison, that forcing yourself on someone who screams ‘no’ the entire time, is wrong.”
One of the men gazes at her for a moment, swallowing hard.
“He said you wanted it,” he rasps. “You’re just some girl who flirted with him and then made her mom think you were a victim he says.”
“I’m not the one hanging and full of holes about to die,” she says. “I’m not a victim anymore. I guess that’s one thing he’s right about.”
Picking up an electric rod, Mr. Emil hands it to her.
“Consider it therapy,” he mutters. “I’m going to do my best to deal with Colton. We don’t currently have anyone in the prison he’s in, which makes it difficult to get information.”
“What am I doing with this?” she asks.
“This may be one of my favorite rods,” Nacio says, moving to put his hand on her back so she knows he’s there.
Telegraphing his actions, he presses her forward.
“Push this button up, and then shove it into any area of their body you want. They’re going to be dying anyway, Rachelle,” he says. “Release some of the anger you feel when you think about Colton.”
“Doesn’t it make me a bad person to do this?” she asks.
“Not at all,” Dad grunts. “The shit they were told to do to you is going to haunt even me. My daughter adores you, which means I’m taking everything fucking personally. These men are owed nothing.”
“What were they told to do?” I ask, wishing I could have left her sleeping in the tent.
People are disgusting dickweeds.
“Kidnap her from the property and show her what rape actually looks like,” Mr. Emil growls.
Ignacio flinches at the words, while I want to take the rod from Rachelle for a little anger releasing myself.
“Lili,” Dad says, pulling my attention to him. He tosses me an electric rod, and I walk forward.
It’s clear they cleaned the ground before they allowed us in, because it’s damp with water and the scent of bleach instead of blood.
“Rachelle,” I say, pulling her attention. I can see she’s thinking too hard about this. “We’ll do it together, okay? These men are going to be an example to their boss that fucking with Emil Reyes’ daughter is a bad life choice.”
“Daughter,” one of the men whispers, the scent of urine causing me to step back as it soaks the front of his boxers. “There’s no fucking way. You never said…”
“Rachelle is my adopted daughter, and I don’t offer information to dead men,” Mr. Emil snarls. “On the count of three, show these men the error of their ways. Uno, dos….”
The ‘three’ is lost as Rachelle and I jab the electric rod against the soft flesh between the men’s legs and let the electricity run through their bodies. Since there’s wetness in the fabric of the man who pissed himself, it creates a better current for the rod. Ever helpful, my father tosses water on the ground where their bare feet are standing.
Since we’re outside of the wetness, it doesn’t affect us, and we continue finding new places to press the electric prod.
“Armpit,” Nacio murmurs under his breath.
Rachelle moves her hands so she can reach the tall man’s underarm, while I merely shift the rod. The men scream through the pain, the acrid smell of burning reaching my nose but not affecting me due to the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“That’s enough,” Mr. Emil calls out, and Rachelle huffs as Nacio tugs her away by the waist. “I’m not done, but there’s no reason to tire yourselves out, girls. I have plans for these men. Do you consider yourself to have a weak stomach?”
“Not really,” Rachelle murmurs. “My stomach issues are from anxiety or anger.”
I shake my head as my father collects the rods, curious about what they’re about to do next.
“Real men don’t have to force themselves on young girls or anyone else,” Dad says. “Those who do, don’t deserve their cocks to remain attached to them.”
Ignacio’s eyes are dark with anger as he pulls on a pair of gloves, and I swallow thickly. I don’t know what’s coming, but a part of me wonders how much he’s going to enjoy it. My former best friend has a darkness inside of himself that’s perfect for this type of work.
We haven’t spoken about our futures at all. Does he want to follow in his father’s footsteps?
My dad is already wearing gloves as he grabs a pair of cutting shears, and relieves the men of their boxers. Rachelle’s breath hitches as she sees the flaccid cocks between the captive men’s legs. They appear inflamed and red after our attack on their bodies that included their dicks, but they’re definitely still attached.
For now.
“You may want to step back a little more,” Mr. Emil murmurs. “I doubt the blood will go far, but I’d like to be careful.”
Ignacio picks up a sharp knife and a blow torch. Wondering what he’s going to use the blow torch for, I reach for Rachelle’s hand in case she needs it. Her fingers are twitching as she takes it, but that seems to be the only sign that this is affecting her. Instead of fear, I feel excitement, knowing that these men will no longer be around to hurt Rachelle.
“Safety glasses,” Dad reminds Ignacio, picking a pair of what reminds me of the ones we use in chemistry class. “I had a chispita try to take my eye out a few months ago, so I refuse to use an open flame without my glasses.”
I remember that he had to use a patch because of it, I just didn’t know why. This makes sense why he’s so careful now. The pirate look managed to make my father look even more dangerous, but I was worried.
Ignacio nods, sliding the protective glasses over his face before moving to one of the men. Dad firmly grabs one of their dicks while Ignacio does the same, the blade slicing smoothly through the flesh before the men can understand what’s happening.
The screaming happens as Ignacio smirks, holding it up in front of him, and he uses it as an opportunity to cram it into his mouth.
“Throw me the duct tape, Lili,” he says, cruelly clamping the man’s jaw shut.
“I guess that’ll work,” Dad murmurs with a shrug. “Enjoy the taste of your own dick.”
Noting the blowtorch on the ground, I toss the duct tape to Ignacio, who glances up briefly before catching it easily. Using his teeth, he tapes the man’s mouth shut as he gags. Now, he’ll choke on his own vomit, which feels appropriate. Dad takes the tape to do the same to the other man, sighing as the room gets a lot quieter.
The men are crying, a poor excuse for gang members. If they were mafia, they’d make much better prisoners.
“Let’s cauterize before they bleed out, Ignacio,” Dad says. “That would be a damn tragedy.”
Reaching down for the blowtorch, Nacio turns it on and runs it over the steel of the knife until it turns bright red. Without any fanfare, he presses the flat part of the steel against the wound, his face impassive as the man screams and writhes.
The sounds are muffled though, and I decide that a dick makes a decent gag after all.
My lips twitch with slight amusement as I watch my dad do the same thing that Nacio did, noticing that Rachelle doesn’t appear grossed out at all by this.
Maybe she can survive in this world after all.
* * *
RACHELLE
Colton. He’s never going to leave me alone. I can’t believe this is happening, but actually watching the men in front of me getting tortured doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.
The castrations made my stomach cramp a little because watching their tiny cocks get cut off was gross. Whatever will drive home the idea that I’m not going to be their victim is necessary in my eyes.
“The Mullen gang needs to understand that they can’t touch things that are important to me,” Emil murmurs.
He looks perfectly calm, but the anger is clear as day in his gaze and tightly clamped jaw.
“I think it’s time for their branding,” my stepfather continues.
The men hanging in front of me being tortured have colorful tattoos all over their skin, though they’ve been damaged. Knife wounds, burn marks, whip slashes, and more litter their bodies, evidence of their stay in this room.
Lili’s father picks up a brand that reminds me of something you’d use on a cow hide. It’s bright red, signaling it’s hot, and Ignacio moves out of his way. Pressing firmly against the skin on each of the Mullen gang member’s chests, Lili’s father ignores their muffled screams.
He doesn’t care, in his eyes they deserve this. I have to say that I agree with him.
Gazing for a moment, it takes me a moment to figure out what the words on the brand say. Fuck Up.
Ignacio smirks as he reads the words, saying, “Garrett Mullen isn’t going to appreciate that.”
“Then maybe he should have done a little more research before fucking with your sister,” Emil grunts.
I will give it to my stepfather, he goes all in with a gesture of love. Adopting me wasn’t necessary, neither is protecting me, yet he is doing it without hesitation. My mother finally chose a good man.
The thought makes me squeeze Lili’s fingers, blinking as emotion overwhelms me. I know my father loved me, I just rarely saw him since he worked so much. It’s harder and harder to remember him at all, so all I can do is move forward.
As far as showing me exactly how my stepfather feels about me, torture is a unique way to go about it.
“Are we done playing with them?” Ignacio asks, noticing the way I yawn as I lean against Lili. I didn’t sleep nearly enough.
“Yes, slit their throats, so the girls can go back to bed. Please sleep inside, though,” Emil says. “We’re dumping their bodies on Garrett’s front lawn, and I don’t want to risk retaliation. There will also be more men around the house for the next few weeks. They won’t bother you, I don’t want them to scare you though.”
After this, I think less things will scare me.
“Anything for the sleepy princesses,” Ignacio teases. Glancing at Lili, I notice that she’s also smothering yawns. The snark hurts less since it’s not barbed, making me wonder what that means.
As far as I understand, he’ll never turn his back on his friends. His father is requesting him to torture these men and kill them. It’s not something he offered to do, even if he’s not half-assing any of this. I want to believe that he might care about me even a little bit, but I can’t.
I’m not that stupid.
Lili’s father and Ignacio stand behind the man they’re killing, knives in their hands.
“Blood finds a way to splatter everywhere, girls. Move closer to me,” Emil says.
Walking over to him, much further from the men strung up from the ceiling, I swallow hard as they’re murdered in front of me. The knife is stabbed into the side of their throats, and then slid across to give them a second smile. The men gurgle and choke on the blood and dicks in their mouths, their bodies convulsing.
Squeezing Lili’s hand, my eyes widen as I watch the light leave their eyes slowly, allowing me to agree with my stepfather’s words. I feel much better knowing that they’re dead and won’t be able to hurt me.
“Good night, ladies,” Emil murmurs, watching as his son strips off the gloves and washes his hands so he can drive us home. “I’ll be home later. Nacio, we have it from here.”
“Right. Night, Dad,” he says, opening the door to allow us to walk out.
“You good?” Ignacio asks as we leave the warehouse.
“Yeah,” I responded. “Is it weird that it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would?”
“Once you get past the idea that they’re good people, it’s easier,” Lili says, getting into the car once Ignacio unlocks it.
“It’s not something I could prepare you for,” Ignacio says. Turning on the vehicle, he makes sure we’re settled. “Dad was livid when he figured out what was happening. He’s much more calm now.”
“I could see it,” I admit. “His jaw was so tight he could barely get the words out.”
“Most people wouldn’t have noticed that,” he says, driving out of the lot. “Dad also didn’t want to scare you, so he toned down how bad the situation was before he had me pick you up.”
“I could smell the bleach still,” Lili comments. “I was worried about when you might have to see something like this.”
“It’s like a mafia kid’s initiation,” Ignacio says with a small snort. “You definitely passed with flying colors in my mind. Didn’t even gag when I shoved the tiny cock into the guy’s mouth.”
“That was gross,” I mutter as he chuckles. “I definitely feel calmer in a way that therapy never seems to.”
“Sometimes action has a way of doing what words don’t,” Lili says softly, and her words follow me for a long time after.