Chapter 37 Ewen
EWEN
Abolt of electricity shoots through my body, waking me as all my muscles tighten.
I must have fallen asleep curled up in a ball on the cold concrete floor.
I’m greeted by a burly man standing over me with a sneer.
“Get up,” he rumbles and pokes me with what looks like a cattle prod. The pain is unbearable.
“I said move ya ass,” he yells and tries to poke me again, but I dodge the strike.
I roll back in my cell, cage, whatever this makeshift enclosure is called.
Standing is hard but I eventually move. “Get over here,” the man demands.
I know there’s no fighting this situation, so I shuffle forward, keeping my eyes on the prod. He pushes the button, making it spark.
I jump, and he throws his head back, laughing. “This is the least of your worries.” He opens the door. “Now get out. You have a meeting to attend.”
I dart around the man, trying to avoid him and his electric stick.
He uses the prod as an extension of himself and points it toward the door.
“Walk,” he orders, so I do. He follows behind me.
The bastard is having fun messing with me.
He randomly sparks the prod, causing me to jump in fear.
Once we’re out of the room, there’s nothing but a grimy hallway.
This place is old and neglected, that’s for sure.
He directs me farther down the hall. When we reach the end he shoves open another door and pushes me forward.
I fall on my knees as the door closes behind me.
“Please come sit down,” a smooth male voice says. Looking up, a well-dressed man with combed back jet-black hair sits quietly in a chair. He looks too pristine for this place. There’s an empty chair across from him, and he motions for me to take a seat.
It takes a moment, my muscles ache, but I get up from the floor and then drop into the chair.
I refuse to start any conversation. “Father Ewen Grayson, it’s my pleasure you have joined me today for a chat.
” He makes it sound like I had an option about being here.
“Tell me, how did Declan get the priest to be his cock sleeve?” He says it so simply.
The want to be offended is strong yet I know I have to stay calm.
“I’m not his—his what you called it,” I say, but I can’t bring myself to degrade what we have with those words. I’ve let him fuck me, but it wasn’t dirty like this guy is making it out to be.
He crosses his leg, bringing his ankle to rest upon his knee. “Ah, but you are. He’s been fucking all the holes around Boston. I’m just surprised he was able to convince a priest he’s a good man.”
“He is a good man.” The urge to defend him is stronger than any other desire. I may die, but I will do so defending Declan.
“Ha! You are so fooled. He’s a terrible man. You know he’s a killer, right?”
“I know what he is and isn’t.”
“You are full of shit. He kills for the O’Sullivan crew and you don’t care.
You are so far from God, you can’t even tell when you are being lied to.
” The man stands and walks around, coming up behind me.
“You are also the way I’m going to bring them to their knees.
” He grabs my shoulders and squeezes them tightly.
“You are going to be the best gift I can deliver to him.”
A wet cloth is brought up over my mouth and nose. “See you soon,” is all I hear before my world goes black.
After coming to, my life has been hell. I have been beaten, electrocuted, and had a gag shoved in my mouth while someone cut my clothes from my body.
I’ve been tied to a cold, metal chair in nothing but my boxers.
I guess I can count that as one minor victory.
I don’t know if I could handle it if I was fully naked.
I’m only comfortable with my nudity in front of Declan.
I have no idea what day or time it is. I just wait for the torture to stop and the quiet moments when they leave. My feet have lost all feeling. I try to wriggle my toes but can’t tell if they move.
Food and water no longer come. They’re only waiting to kill me. I’ll gladly die if it keeps Declan safe. I’ll regret never telling him I love him, but maybe one day our souls will be reunited in Heaven.
I’ve been left alone for a few minutes. The burly man with his prod has been the one to inflict most of my pain. He is truly evil. The glee he gets every time I cry out or scream is clear in his eyes. Declan has never looked at me that way. Maybe he has at his victims but never me.
Looking around, his table with tools, as he likes to call them, stares back at me.
Knives, rope, a scalpel, knuckle dusters, a gun…
the majority of those things have inflicted pain in some way.
The knuckle dusters hurt when he hit me so hard a back molar came out, and that side of my face is swollen.
I have cuts all over my body. Most of them are surface level but they all hurt.
Think Ewen! You can’t die here! My internal Declan voice chimes in.
His voice is what has kept me going this long.
My prayers to God have long been abandoned.
He’s not coming but I do have faith that Declan will.
These guys have said terrible things about him, probably most of them true, but I refuse to give up my hope in him.
Everyone has a past, and things they’ve done in life, but he is true to himself.
I don’t know how much longer my body can handle this torture. I’ll die before long if I don’t do something. And if I die trying to get free, at least I can say I went out trying to get to Declan.
A memory I haven’t had in almost twenty years slams into me.
Dad is mad. Mommy says she’s over his shit, whatever that means.
I know I can’t say the word cause I get in trouble, but she says it.
Mommy is throwing our stuff into bags and taking them to the car.
She stops in front of me and crouches down.
She pushes my hair back from my eyes. “Listen Ewen, you and Mommy are going somewhere far away from Dad. We’ll go see all the things, just you and me.
Sound good?” I look into her eyes and see she’s crying.
Mommy does that a lot when talking about Dad.
Standing, she takes my hand in hers and we head for the door.
The door suddenly flies open. Dad is standing there, holding a gun. Mommy screams and grabs me, turning us away from Dad and cuddling me to her chest. Her cries are louder.
“Mommy it’s okay, it’s just Dad. He came to go on adventures with us,” I say because she shouldn’t be afraid of him. She holds me tighter, and it hurts.
Mommy is gone. I fall down and look up as Dad pulls her back and drags her into their room. Dad points at me. “Stay here.” I nod. He’s going to talk to Mommy. Everything is going to be okay.
I grab Mommy’s book she likes to read to me. Her Bible. She told me this book holds all the secrets to the world. I don’t understand most of the words, but I look at the pages. I hear them yelling. They do that often, but they always hug me afterwards.
A really loud bang comes from their room. I cover my ears because the noise is so loud. I get up and go knock on the door. “Mommy, are you okay?” I ask the closed door. No sound is coming from the room. I knock again.
Dad opens the door and steps out. “Hey bud, Mommy is napping right now. I’m going to join her.”
He turns, but I grab his pant leg and yell, “I want to go with you and Mommy.” I’m crying.
Dad gets down to my level. “Listen bud, Mommy and I love each other so much that it hurts us sometimes. Love makes people crazy, and sometimes they do terrible things to be with the ones they love. Mommy and I love you bud, but you can’t come on this nap with us.”
He gives me a hug and stands up. He goes back in the room and shuts the door. I don’t know what he means by that, but I love my Mommy and Dad and want to be with them. I start banging on the door, yelling for them to let me come too.
Another loud bang comes from the room. This time I open the door. Mommy and Dad are covered in blood. So much blood. I grab Mommy’s hand. “Can we go on our adventures now?” She doesn’t squeeze back or talk to me.
“Mommy? I’m scared.” Still nothing. Dad isn’t talking or moving either.
I run out of our house crying, screaming for someone to help. Our neighbor, Mr. Jones comes over. I tell him about the bangs and blood. He hugs me and tells another neighbor to watch me while he goes inside. He comes back out looking sad.
Did he get Mommy and Dad to wake up? What was that loud noise?
Mr. Jones calls someone and before I know it there’re police and ambulances parked everywhere. I hear the words murder and suicide. That’s all I get before I’m placed in a car and taken to the orphanage.
I tried every day of my life to forget that day.
My father killed my mother and then ended his life.
All because he loved her so much he couldn’t imagine a day when he wasn’t with her.
For years I hated him. Hated him for taking them from me.
Then I found God. He wouldn’t want us to live with hatred in our hearts. So, I forgave my father.
Now I get it. He loved her so much he would rather be dead with her than not have her at all. Declan says he loves me. I know I love him. Now it’s my turn to do something incredibly stupid in the name of love. I will fight with everything in me to tell him once.
Love makes us stupid but also brave. I will be brave, I will fight.
No idea if they can see me or not, nor do I care anymore what happens.
I shake my arms, they’re terribly stiff.
But still, I try to find a way to freedom.
The rope is tight but not as tight as the one around my ankles.
There’s actual wiggle space. Maybe I can get my hands out.
There’s blood, mostly dry, but some could work as a lubricant.
The rope burns as it cuts deeper into my flesh, but I don’t care. I have to get out.
Channeling my father’s intentions, hearing Declan’s voice in my head, I will become everything dark to get free. They will be the force. Maybe even God will help me.
Slowly, with so much pain, I finally pull one of my hands free. I want to shout in victory, but I can’t. I’m still not out of danger.
Not caring about the rope around my other wrist I lean forward and try removing the rope around my ankles.
It takes even longer than it did to get my hand free but eventually I remove the rope.
I stand, forcing myself to ignore the pain and discomfort.
I rush to the door and try to open it. It’s locked.
But I have tools. Maybe one of them can help me get out.
The doorknob jiggles, a sign someone is coming in. This is the moment I either live or die. I lunge for the gun and grip it tight in my bloody hands. I’ve never fired a gun in my life. If I had the knife, I would have to get close to my captor, but with the gun I can keep distance between us.
I grip the gun even tighter, using both hands to keep it steady.
Holding my breath, I wait to see who’s coming.
The moment the door opens and I see the burly man, I spring into action.
I pull the trigger, sending a bullet traveling straight into his stomach.
He grabs at the wound as his shirt instantly stains red.
He moves toward me and I go on autopilot.
I pull the trigger until it clicks. The man is dead, lying there, motionless, while I watch the blood drain from him.
I judged Declan when we first met for killing people.
He’d said, “You never know what you’re capable of until it’s either you or them.
” He was right. I chose to kill this man before he could kill me.
I have taken another person’s life and I feel nothing.
No regret, no compassion. Absolutely nothing except for the need to get to Declan.