Chapter 48
Ultimate Sacrifice
Levi
Sitting at the kitchen island, I review my mother's letter, reading it over and over again until I can physically feel the fire burning me from the inside out. Let’s talk about the rage my core burns with.
For starters, my mother and what she did to this family.
Cheating on my father, leaving him, meeting and marrying Grant, hating my sister, and allowing us to be beaten and deprived of love.
I hate her because she hated us, and if she didn't, I got scars that contradict her notion.
Reason two: she loved him. The devil, who wore the mask of a God, danced in the light, holding her with loving tenderness.
Until the light went out and she was in the hands of the devil, swaying around fists and muffled screams, and yet she saved him.
Then comes Grant. The man behind the scars, not only mine, but my sisters' as well. I don’t know what my path in life was supposed to be, but fuck the one we are on. It ends tonight; it ends now.
The car door slams outside, and I know it’s him. With the front door unlocking, followed by his walk toward the kitchen, I set the letter face up on the counter.
“You’re home?” His voice is rough, full of disgust and annoyance. Allowing my eyes to drift up to his, I see it, the hate that burns behind his pupils.
“I am. I found something. A letter from Sara. It’s interesting.
” His eyebrows knit together, forming a long, caterpillar-like line.
“Want to read it, or should I?” He rips the letter off the island, his eyes darting swiftly from one side to the other as he reads with speed.
I watch as the paper begins to wrinkle under his fingertips, the veins in his neck protrude, and his nostrils flare with each word his eyes glance over.
“This is bullshit! Your mother was the mistake. All of you are!” His voice now carries throughout the hell disguised as a cheerful home.
My tongue runs along the front of my teeth as my heart races. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe YOU are the mistake? It’s clearly stated in the letter, shall I read it for a better understanding?” His eyes shift, his snarl deepens, and there it is, the monster.
Grant puffs his chest out as his temper comes to play.
Let’s fucking dance. “You!” He takes a step around the corner, working his way towards me.
“The best thing I can do for society is take you out of it!” I smile at him because I know he is seething, and it makes me smirk with enjoyment, knowing I am recording this entire conversation.
“Think I’m lying, you little prick?” I shake my head no, working my way out of the kitchen.
“I’m wishing you’d believe what everyone is trying to tell you, Grant.
You are a worthless piece of shit who beats people to feel superior, you're a traffic cop, and you walk around like fucking Superman for fuck sakes.” His fists clench with madness.
“Can’t even have a conversation without throwing a tantrum like a little bitch.
” That did it. The final straw, he lunges towards me, when I take the lamp sitting on the side table and smack him with it.
Blood trickles down from where the glass made contact.
Levi 1- Grant 0. Wow, that felt good as fuck.
“Beating you pleased me. Starving you brought me joy. Watching the boy I tried to turn into a man fall and stay down was pitiful. You get what you deserve. If you can’t fight, then you bleed!
If you can't listen, then you starve. If you tarnish my good name, you die!” His chest rises and falls with hate and absolution.
His arm comes back, throwing his punch with force.
I block him and leap away from the wall.
“You think anyone will ever believe you? Did they believe you when you told your teacher? No. Did they believe you when you came back from ‘vacation’? No. There is not a person on this goddamn planet who will believe a piece of shit like you, boy.”
Anger now boiling deep within. I propel my body onto him, taking him down. His body hits the ground with a large thud before my fist makes contact with his smug face. My legs wrap around him, pressing my weight into him, keeping him on the floor.
“I will plead my case from prison if I have to, because this is the last time you will lay your hand on my sister or me.” My hand moves, throwing punches into his face, his eye, his nose, his mouth, and beating him into the floor beneath us, begging for his breath and movements to stop beneath me.
Using the arm, he’s wrangled free, he flings me over onto my back.
Looking up at his bleeding face, peace washes over me now that I am finally doing it, making the devil bleed.
Throwing up my knee, I hit his balls, watching him suck in a breath.
I roll from under him, jumping to my feet.
“Didn’t think I’d do any damage down there, nothing to fucking hit.
” His lip snarls up as he wipes the blood from his mouth.
I slide the couch into him, using force to drive it across the room.
Moving to the dining room, Grant flips the table.
“That wasn’t very mature, Grant. Do we need to go without dinner?
” He runs his tongue over his bloody lip before reaching across the now broken table, attempting to grab me.
“It’s not as fun when we fight back, is it? ”
“Any time I get to make you bleed is fun, Levi. Come closer, and I'll show you how liberating it is for me.” An evil grin crosses his bloody face.
Our hearts beat rapidly as we breathe through our rage and determination to take one another down.
Grant goes to move around the back side of the table, but I quickly grab the chair and launch it at him.
He sweeps his pulsing arm up, blocking the chair, and it crashes onto the floor, breaking as it lands.
Sweat drips from his forehead as his grimace hardens.
Turning to grab another, he latches onto my wrist, yanking me into him, where his other fist flies through the air, making contact with my cheek.
A sickly crack follows. Fuck. Using my leg, I swipe him out from under him, as he takes me down with him.
Our arms and legs are at war, throwing breathless movements, hoping like hell to make contact.
Grant is grunting as he tries to flip me onto my back.
Taking my fingers, I scratch his eye with my nail, hoping the catfight-like move stuns him.
He grabs both my arms, placing them on the ground beneath me, using his bowling ball knees to lock them down.
His weight presses my back into the hardwood.
Using my tired legs, I push and kick his back, yet it has no effect, given that he is twice my size.
“I hate you, and one day you will get what you deserve for what you have done to us. Until then, it felt good to beat your ass, and watch you bleed, just like you made us.” My words are crisp, breathless, and before I can say anything else, he rears his fist back, with reddened knuckles, and reminds me how it feels to take his punch.
Brutal power strikes me in the face, not once but twice, feeling the pain radiate from the contact as it spreads out, spreading throughout my cheekbone.
My eye is next, feeling the socket itself burst, absolute turmoil.
Trying to wrangle my arms free, I think about wrapping my arms around his neck, taking his breath from him until he turns cold and blue.
I get one arm out, sending it flying into his face, and spit falls from his mouth as he hangs over me.
Taking my arm, he bends it until it snaps.
Excruciating pain radiates from my forearm, and my fingers tingle as they start to go numb.
I scream into his face as he leans down, breathing into me, and all I feel is agony.
“That’s it, boy, scream for help, because no one is going to save you.
” He leans over me, with my good arm still pinned down and my other arm immobilized.
I try to use my legs to push him off, but it doesn't work.
He sends punch after punch after punch, making blood pour from my nose, mouth, and possibly eye.
Honestly, everything is hazy, and I feel a burning sensation along my nose—the metallic taste of blood dripping into my lips.
I watch him with blurry vision as blood smears across his face from my blows.
His eye is just as swollen, and his lip is split from my assault with the lamp.
I feel the pressure release from my chest as he stands, drawing back his boot, he crashes it into my ribs, sending a gut-wrenching ache throughout my body.
Again, he makes contact, sending discomfort down my side into my leg.
Kicking the breath out of me, each breath after stings, shallow and laced with torment.
All I see is his bulky shadow as my vision comes and goes.
“I have every want to kill you, boy, and one day I will, but today isn't that day. If you die after I walk out this door, it will be easy to fake a break-in. I know I broke your ribs, your arm, hopefully punctured your lung, and your nose. Face it, you are not strong enough to survive. Let this be your final lesson.” With that, he leaves me on the floor, broken and bleeding.
I gave it everything I had; I just hope the audio will be enough to save Scarlett.
Reaching for my phone, I call David.
“Hello?” David’s voice is soft on the other end of the line.
“David. Help,” Wheezing through my shallow breaths, “Come—phone— listen to— save Scarl—.” I try to finish, there is so much to say, but not enough life left to speak.
There is no air left to breathe, no light left to see.
The blood runs down my throat as my breath leaves me, and everything goes black, giving the ultimate sacrifice, my life.