Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
My body hung limp as he drug me carefully over to an orange settee.
"So many pictures," I slurred, staring at a plethora of photos pinned to the wall.
"Thank you," Manuel assumed it was a compliment.
"How long have you been here?" I asked as he lay me across it, positioning my legs. "Seems like a long time."
"Long enough."
"I can see," I murmured, as I noted all the different stages of my life here in Vegas. There were also a surprising amount featuring Knight plus another man I didn't recognize. Then I remembered that Manuel was from Veracruz, from the land of old Abuelo enemies, and that this was just as much about Knight as it was about me. "Who's that other guy?"
He didn't answer me but the question was somewhat answered as I studied the images closer--the familiarity of his features made me think he was somehow related to Manuel.
The faint rumble of another crashing boom echoed through the room and my heart flip-flopped. He was now adjusting my arms, shifting my hips, scooting me backwards, making adjustments like a little doll, until I was exactly how he wanted me. And yet, all I could worry about was the people I loved.
Was Knight okay?
Was Honey still safe in the ventilation system? I hoped to God that she stayed there until it was safe again.
Manuel probed the skin around my tattoo, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. "It's turning out very nicely. I must admit, I'm very happy with the shading." My stomach rolled; I wanted to vomit at the feel of his fingers on my skin. "Well, I did practice on the other women. And practice makes perfect."
My eyes snapped to his face. "Other women?"
"Yes. After you left me. I did try to replace you, you know," he cocked his head to the side, studying me. Then he sighed. "But there was something missing--none of them could ever be quite the same as you. But that's not surprising though, is it? No one can replace my little bird, can they?"
When I didn't answer him, he pinched his lips together, pressing his fingers into the wound at my shoulder. "I expect you to behave , Tatiana."
I cried out in pain, then, breathing heavily through it, I growled out. "You shouldn't have tried to replace me, at all. Those girls didn't deserve it."
″So you've made it now, have you? Think that no one can compare?″ His eyes ignited with anger. ″Such a far cry from that night I met you.″ He shook his head, his gaze stinging with derision. "So pathetic and poor. So starved for attention and affection." He gave a contemptuous chuckle. "And Knight, the way he looked at you. Even though he could've had any woman in the world, he wanted you. Tiny, insignificant you . And that's when I knew I had to have you."
"What? Why?"
"I just told you, Tatiana," he was playing with my hair now, moving it around my shoulders, then adjusting my dress. "He wanted you. And so, I had to have you."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"That's because you're not really listening." He stood, looming over me, his eyes going soft. "Did you know that I met Knight when I was only six?"
"Like I give a shit."
"You should." His footsteps were too quiet as he moved towards his desk. "I think you would come to sympathize with my purpose if you understood it."
My insides churned when he pulled out a feather, fear coursing through me. "No," I whispered.
He held it up to the light, inspecting it. "It's incredible, isn't it? How something so soft can cause so much pain." He held it towards me. "I know this particular one is your favorite. I saved it, just for our little reunion."
I wanted to sob as he walked towards me, my eyes glued to it. I shook my head. "No. Please. Don't." My heart pounded, sweat pouring down my face, and pooling under my arms and down my back.
"He was so arrogant, even at such a young age." He ignored my pleas, back to talking about Knight. "He watched us that night, and did nothing."
“When you first met me?”
“No,” he scoffed, “You’re not paying attention. The night I met Knight.”
I didn't understand him. “What happened?” I tried to change the subject, to distract him from the feather.
“We were near the sea, close to our old home in Cuba. You remember that house, don't you?”
“Yes.” My voice stuttered.
“Of course you do,” Sitting next to me, he brushed the back of his hand gently across my cheek. “We had some really great memories there, didn't we?” He pulled a small container from his pocket.
I didn't answer him; my chest moved up and down with each breath as panic filled me, my eyes fixated on the container.
“Do you have any idea how it felt for me to sit there with the man who killed my father?” He was all over the place now, not making any sense at all.
“I-I'm so sorry,” I attempted to say but he shook his head, his gaze darkening.
“No. You're not. But you will be.” Unscrewing the lid, he dipped the feather in the fine powder. Particles of it floated through the air, the pungent smell filling my nose and setting my senses on fire.
I couldn't breathe.
I was drowning, drowning in a sea of anxiety.
Snot began to drain from my nose and his gaze darkened.
"Disgusting girl," Pulling out a handkerchief, he wiped at it roughly, rubbing my skin almost raw. "Now, are you going to behave?"
"I'll never behave," I snarled. "As long as I live, I will never do what you want."
"And yet, I always get what I want in the end, don't I?"
"Even when I almost killed you?"
He chuckled, a glimmer in his eyes. "Ah, your little attempt to take me out. That was quite amusing. It was actually quite a proud moment for me."
"What?"
"Yes. Can you imagine? To create something out of nothing? I took a weak woman and turned her into something fierce and strong." A thumb brushed over my cheek lovingly, then his nail dug into it, scraping downward, drawing blood. "Until you grew weak again. Soft. The Tatiana I created wouldn't tremble at the sight of a feather." His eyes shuttered; they were cold and hard again. "Now," he said, "we'll start the training again."
"Now?" I managed to choke out, my body trembling involuntarily.
"I've waited long enough! Do you think for one moment I would hold off on my greatest creation?" He dipped the feather in the powder and my heart pounded so quickly, that I thought it was going to burst from my chest. Once again, my nose began to drain from the scent filling my nose.
He sighed heavily as he scooted closer. "I guess I'll tolerate it this one time. I know it's been a while, and your body needs to readjust." There was a trickle of a smile at the edges of his lips that he tried unsuccessfully to suppress. Though he tried to pretend otherwise, he was enjoying my reaction.
But then his gaze darkened. "This wouldn't be happening if you hadn't left me, Tatiana."
"But," I tried to stall him, "What about your men? Don't you care what happens out there? They could burst in here at any moment."
"Knight will never get that far," he dismissed me. "Now," grabbing my wrist, he turned my arm so that my palm faced upwards, "let's not waste another second." The feather glided over my skin, gentle as it moved across my hand and wrist. Up to the crook of my arm.
"No," I begged, as the tingling sensation grew into a burn. "Please."
Manuel's fingers tightened around my wrist. "Don't be such a child, Tatiana."
It didn't take long before the prickling pain escalated into an inferno as the powder sank into my skin.
"Please!" I cried, squeezing my eyes shut to stave off the pain as it ran up my arm and into my shoulder. "Please!"
"Funny," Manuel murmured, the feather hovering near my skin. "That's exactly what my father said," he hissed, his jaw flexing with anger, "when Abuelo put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, right in front of me." He trailed the feather across my shoulder, shaking his head. "And Knight did nothing but stand there and watch as Abuelo murdered my father, even when he pleaded for his life." Manuel let my hand go, then leaned down to me, his eyes cold and hard in the darkness of the room. "Didn't he know he was mine to kill?" He thumped his chest with a fist, speaking in a low growl. "Mine."
The feather descended again and the powdery substance clung to my skin, intensifying the burning sensation that thundered over my other shoulder, up my neck and chest.
He paid particular attention to the spaces between my fingers, the skin where my fingers met my nails, all the tiny little cracks and crevices of my body, down to my toes. Anywhere that was bare, he tortured me, my screams and cries doing nothing to soften his hard heart.
I don't know how long it lasted, but it felt like an eternity as he caressed my skin with something so light, it was barely heavier than air, but imbibed with something so dangerous, so painful, that it felt like my skin was on fire.
I was burning alive.
My screaming drowned out the sounds of gunfire from outside, Manuel's deep laugh, and the pounding of my own heart.
As wave after wave of panic and nausea rolled over me, nearly choking me to death, I screamed not only for my own pain and agony, but for the younger me, who'd only wanted someone to love her.
To stay, for her.
I struggled for air as the darkness threatened to consume me completely. Tears coursed down my face, but I sucked in large, sobbing breaths, clamping my mouth shut, determined to take control over the situation.
I had worked so hard to become a new person.
A person determined not to be crippled by the past.
And I knew I was no longer that girl, scared and powerless. I'd changed, grown, trained.
Worked my ass off to become who I was now.
And not because of Knight or Rook or my parents or anyone else.
It was because of me .
I'd done that.
I'd done everything possible to stop myself from living under the control of another again.
Including the very poison Manuel had used against me, so many years ago.
The touch of the feather on my skin stopped and I took in deep, choking breaths. My face and clothes were drenched with my sweat and tears. My heart was still pounding so loud, it shook my insides out.
I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. Then, letting my rage take over, I opened them again, determination filling me.
I refused to be dragged back into his darkness.
To let my fears become my master.
I was capable of more than I ever dreamed of.
I wasn't that same little girl, scared and powerless.
I was Tatiana Krapivnik, and I wasn't going to let him control me anymore.
I would fight with everything I had.
He would kill me before I lived like that again.
The sounds of fighting grew closer, distracting Manuel.
He stood, cursing, "Puta de madra. That asshole made it this far." He sounded genuinely surprised. He pulled a gun from his side and stood at the door, waiting, his whole focus on that.
It gave me the chance I needed. Willing everything inside me, I twisted, turning my body to fall to the floor.
"Tatiana," he growled out, "what are you doing?"
Ignoring him, I crawled on my hands and knees towards his desk.
The sound of guns shooting towards the end of the hallway distracted him, and, gathering every ounce of strength inside me, I lunged to my feet.
I grabbed the letter opener from his desk and swiveled towards him.
His laughter burned something inside me. "My little bird , going to kill me with that baby knife?" he sneered, his eyes alight with humor. God, I hated how he enjoyed this. Enjoyed my attempts to be strong.
"Tell me," he mused, "how are you even managing to move?"
I smiled, taking a step towards him, staring down my death in its face. I was going to kill this bastard if it was the last thing I ever did in my life.
Not only for my own sake, but for Honey. For Knight.
For the women he'd hurt in the past, and all the future women he would hurt.
"I've been taking deathstalker poison. In small amounts. Just enough to become immune to it."
"Then why let me torture you?"
"Unfortunately, it takes a minute to release its hold over me." I took another determined step towards him, though pain shot through my system with every step. I would die before I went back to that life.
"And the tattoo? Why not kill me then?"
"Honey," I said simply. I would do whatever it took to save her. "I needed to know where she was, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find her if I killed you first."
He ... laughed. The sound loud and boisterous in the room, filling the space around and inside me. Growling, I stumbled towards him.
"You think you could ever kill me? You can barely even move." His laughter grew louder. "Don't you know, Tatiana? I'm el diablo. The devil. And the devil can't be killed, not by someone so small and insignificant as you."
His rancor and disgust filled me, starting with my legs and up to my knees, giving them strength to straighten. Up my thighs and chest, filling my rage and indignation. It flushed my face with anger, sizzling into my arms and fingers.
I hated him I hated him I hated him.
"I hate you!" It bellowed from my mouth in a loud roar. I jumped through the air, my body moving automatically in a motion I'd practiced a thousand times.
I landed perfectly in front of him, my arm already swinging before his face could finish switching from laughter to surprise.
I aimed for the temporal lobe, the softest part of his head. The sickening sound of the letter opener sliding through the softest part of his skull made a satisfaction fill me.
His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze meeting mine. For a brief moment, our gazes locked, and the sounds of fighting outside stilled.
It was silent, frozen in time.
And it felt...peaceful.
Then, the edges of his lips trickled upward. One last smile before he fell to the floor, dead.
I stared down at the crumpled body in disbelief, heaving. In shock. A tremor climbed up my spine and then my whole body was shaking. I couldn't step away, only stare down at him, afraid that he would move at any moment.
Afraid to believe that he was actually dead this time.
And then the door sprang open and Antonio stood in the doorway, his gun held outward. He stared at me in surprise as he took in the sight.
The gun swung upwards and towards me. I threw my hands in the air. "No, Antonio, please."
His finger was on the trigger, but...he hesitated.
A shot rang out and I jumped, my shoulders hunching to my ears. I blinked in disbelief as he fell to the floor, blood pouring from a hole in his head, his dead eyes staring at the wall.
Oh my god.
Then, in the silence, Knight appeared. My heart leaped in my throat, pounding, pounding , my eyes filling. Knight ! Love swelled through my chest, a tidal wave of warmth washing over me.
He stood over Antonio's body, then swung his gaze towards the room, his own gun following his line of sight. It landed on Manuel's dead form at my feet, settling there for a brief moment, then...up towards me. His eyes lit up, happiness radiating from them. "Tatiana."
"Knight." I was lightheaded, relief pouring over me. Then, my knees grew weak, my whole body shook, and darkness claimed my vision.
I blacked out, unconscious.