Chapter 36
Damien
Five Days Later
I can't breathe.
Every time I try to suck air in, it's forced right back out.
Whatever device they have on my face is the worst thus far, and I think they might actually kill me this time.
There are two straps latched across my head—one behind it, and the other around my neck.
The piece attached is heavy and thick, completely covering my chin, mouth, and nose.
I think it might even be metal, but I can't tell for sure. The room tilts and flips as it deprives me of oxygen, but if I pass out, they’ll just force me to do it again the moment I wake back up.
It's so cold. They took that suit away again, and they’ve done nothing but douse me in ice water.
If this mask isn't over my mouth, a cloth is, and I've shivered so harshly that my entire body cracks like stone.
I must have done something to piss them off, because they've been brutal the past…
I'm not sure how long. Cinque must have told them how our last assignment went, and this is just a punishment.
The lashes along my back and thighs pull with every twitch, and even though I'm soaking wet, I can feel how dry and crusty the wounds are as they stretch.
I wonder how long it's been now. Victoria hasn't been back to give me any answers, and I fear it's too late regardless.
I'm too weak. They've made sure of it. Even my dreams are no longer safe from them.
They played the footage from Ashia's captivity for what felt like days, and now all I can hear are her whimpers and screams. Even as I try to sink into limbo, her sweet voice is no longer there.
I started hearing a baby cry some time ago, and that's when I broke down.
I'm not sure how much longer I can hang on. Every half-breath I take, I'm fighting to stay alive for them, but it's not enough. I can feel myself fading away. I dreamt earlier that I had died. It was like I was staring at myself from across the room. It must have been a lie, because I didn’t even recognize myself. I was so frail that an assault from a wad of paper could break a bone, and my skin is so pale that I could see the veins underneath. Even if I make it out of here, Ashia can’t see me like this. It’ll tear her apart, and I’d rather suffer alone than force it upon her.
The door creaks loudly as Victoria is shoved inside, and she falls to the ground.
Her hands smack against the stone, and as she tries to scramble back up, Saconne kicks her back down.
The kick to her side is swift and harsh, and it probably causes more damage than what I can already see.
When she lifts her face, her busted lip and bruising cheek stick out dramatically against her pale skin.
Either she’s done something wrong as well, or they know she was trying to help me.
“Go on. Give him what you were going to sneak in here for,” Saconne threatens.
“He will die if you send him out like this!” Victoria screams at him.
Saconne swiftly smacks her in the face, and she falls to the ground once again.
I don’t know Victoria, and I really shouldn’t care what happens to her, but something about watching a woman being hit has always fueled my fire.
My body is starting to catch from the embers, and I can feel myself getting hot.
“His life is not yet your concern! If an assignment leads to his death, then that's his fate! He is replaceable! Just as you are!”
“He’s my pet!”
“He is nothing to you until you are placed at the head, and I’ll see to it that never happens!
You, Victoria, are a liability, and I won’t stand for it any longer!
” He points directly in her face, and her eyes widen, like she’s truly afraid of what he’ll do.
She asked for my help to save her sister.
Would Saconne really fall as low as hurting a child?
I’m sure they dangle that little girl in front of her face, just as they tease Ashia in mine.
DeLuca and Cinque storm into the room with purpose.
She looks as angry as ever, and Cinque still has that blank expression on his face.
He’s looking straight ahead, but I’m not sure he sees anything.
It’s an empty, fixated stare that I’ve only seen in traumatized victims. It’s the same vacant stare I’ve seen in my father’s eyes.
“Victoria? What is the meaning of this?” DeLuca gestures to Saconne’s furious state.
She’s obviously upset as well by her trembling hand and taut neck, but I’m not sure who she’s angrier at.
Her fury before was directed at Saconne when he assaulted her, and it’s unclear if that outlook has changed.
Victoria shakily stands, but then she straightens her spine, as if she knows showing them weakness will only get her killed—or worse.
“I was on my way to give Damien some medication to help him with his assignment today,” she says honestly, and DeLuca’s eyes shape into slits.
“Who gave you authority to do so?” DeLuca asks furiously.
“Me. You said he was my pet, and I don’t really feel like having to find another one. I’d much rather keep him alive.”
“If he doesn’t live, then he is not worthy. You know this, bambina,” DeLuca warns.
“Yes, but we all know that you all have been especially volatile since Popov’s death,” Victoria retorts, and my heart skips a beat.
Popov is dead? “You know you’re setting him up for failure by sending him out like this.
If you want this assignment done without a hitch, then he needs to be somewhat in control of his body.
Are we not supposed to ensure the success of the mission?
No matter what?” She continues to argue, and while Saconne looks even more pissed off, DeLuca shockingly relaxes just a little.
She releases a angered sigh and swats her hand backward, like she can’t be bothered by Victoria’s emotions anymore.
“Fine. Give him whatever you were about to give him, then you can get him dressed. He leaves in ten minutes with Cinque.” DeLuca then turns to him and whispers something inaudible, while Saconne glares at me with a murderous promise.
Victoria steps up to me and pulls out another needle.
It doesn’t bother me this time—I almost welcome it if it means it’ll take some of the pain away.
Blood runs down her chin, and that bruise on her cheek is already looking darker than it was before.
“Are…you…alright?” I choke out, and I’m shocked that I can speak through this mask. It’s grave and muffled, but I think it’s loud enough for her to hear. She nods softly and injects me with whatever is in that needle. I don’t even register the pinch this time.
“I’ve had worse,” she whispers back. Once she pockets the needle, she reaches her arms up to the latches behind my head.
“When I take this mask off, it’s going to hurt like hell to breathe, but it’s better if you fight through it and fill your lungs on the first go.
Okay?” she advises, and I nod. I hear her warning, but I don’t take it to heart.
I’m desperate for a full breath of air, and I’ll take whatever pain to get it.
The second she removes the mask, the force of the air rushing in proves me wrong.
My lungs cramp violently, and I twist in agony.
The restraints pull against my wrists, but my body continues to contort itself, and I can’t stop it.
It feels like my muscles and ribcage are being torn in half inside my chest. I do what she said and inhale deeply, only to scream at the exhale.
I’ve never felt anything like it. Violent coughs sputter out of my throat, and each sting along my esophagus feels like pin jabs.
“Get him dressed. I don’t have the patience for that noise today.
” DeLuca shoos my pain off and exits with Cinque and Saconne.
The moment the door shuts, Victoria relaxes, and as my lungs start to ease up, I breathe a little better.
Water seeps from my eyes, and I try to blink it away, but now they burn.
“Once I get these pants on you, I’ll let you down. It’s just easier if I do it while you’re still dangling,” she says, but I shake my head.
“I can…get myself dressed.”
“It’ll take a few minutes for that to fully kick in this time, and she’s on edge. Do you really want to test her?” Her eyes bore into mine, and there’s a sort of desperation there that I haven’t seen before. I allow my breathing to slow a little more before I speak again.
“Your sister?”
She nods her head lightly, and I don’t need any more context than that one motion.
I shouldn’t be so shocked that they would threaten a child, but it still catches me off guard.
I just look away and let her slip the pants on me.
I feel sick. First, the breeding comment.
And now she’s dressing me? What kinds of plans do these sick fucks have for me? This all feels so wrong.
“Did you hear what I said earlier?” she asks and draws my attention.
“About Popov?” I ask, and as she stands back up to latch the pants, she nods.
“Your wife killed him,” she reveals. Shock and pride bloom in my chest, and all I can imagine is Ashia’s first kill.
She was glorious that day. I can only imagine how divine she looked killing that bald mother fucker.
A grin forces its way onto my lips, and a warmth tries to ignite in my chest for the first time in days.
“Now, they’re all on edge. They haven’t shown you footage of her since they shot your father because your men have been keeping her pretty secluded. ”
“You’ve seen her?” I ask quietly, and she nods again.
“Briefly.”
“How is she?” I don’t care how desperate I sound—I need to know. My heart starts to pound in my chest, and my breathing becomes shallow again, like my body needs the confirmation of her health to operate. Victoria looks up at me, like she’s not sure what to say, but her face softens after a moment.
“She seems alright. Granted, I don’t know her, and apart from being pregnant and tired, I’m not sure what else to look at.”
I nod, taking anything that I can get right now.
She’s alive. Our baby is okay. That’s all I fucking care about.
I can’t stop thinking about her, and how much I’m missing out on.
Old images keep replaying in my head, and I’m holding onto them for dear life.
One of my favorites is when I watched her dance in Serena’s apartment—before I introduced myself.
She was so carefree for those few moments.
Her smile reached her ears, and her face was lit up with so much light that it shouldn’t have been real.
The way she flung her head back to laugh was a moment of pure joy, and now I’d give anything to watch that from afar again.
Before the image is completely gone, the restraints release my wrists, and I collapse.
My knees are the first to hit the stones, and the rest of me seems to crash and split as I smack the ground.
Pain radiates through my limbs, and my entire body shakes as I push myself up with my hands.
Nausea rolls up and down in waves, but I fight through it and grab the Nylon top to slip it on.
After I finish dressing and shakily stand, Saconne storms back in.
It takes me by surprise, and I don’t really have time to react before he jabs my neck with another needle.
It instantly burns, the fire trailing through every vein, and I can feel it the moment my heart starts to race again. Victoria snaps in his direction.
“What is wrong with you?! He’ll crash-out before he even gets to the assignment!”
“Then that will just be one more reason to kill him!” Saconne then forcefully turns and starts to walk out, but not without calling over his shoulder, “Happy hunting, Hartley!”