Chapter Twenty-Five #2
And then Elio looked up, face stained with violent sprinkles of blood that I knew weren’t his own, red splatters dotting from face to neck—he was wearing a button-up, which meant he had left me to change his shirt.
The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing dots of blood on his forearms and the hand that held the baseball bat.
Elio’s gaze swept up and down my body, completely expressionless, while he stood there, looking like a fucking psychopath who had just survived the zombie apocalypse, before he settled his gaze on Buzzcut, who looked like he had seen a ghost. He knew who stood before him.
I could spot the moment fear took over his form; he quickly grabbed the clamps again, increasing the voltage to the highest setting as he aimed it at me.
“Don’t come any closer, you—you come close, I fry her,” he said.
Elio’s gaze fell to me again before looking at the buzzing clamps and then back to Buzzcut.
“Okay.” His voice rang through as he pressed the barrel of the baseball bat to the ground between his legs, both hands holding the knob as he spoke. “Go ahead.”
“You think I’m bluffing?” Buzzcut said, inching the clamps close to my ribs, eyes sharp. “I will fucking do it.”
Elio’s expression didn’t give anything away. “Was there a stutter to my previous statement?”
Buzzcut swallowed but didn’t make a move to do anything.
“Are you going to do it, or should I approach?”
My insides tied knots around themselves. If Elio had really wanted me dead, he wouldn’t be here, but why the fuck was he urging this fucker to fry me?
A few beats passed, with Elio staring intently at Buzzcut.
When nothing was done, he nodded, lifting the bat, and started stepping forward, but the moment he did, Buzzcut found his senses again, about to press the clamps to my body.
I was one second away from being electrocuted to death, but it seemed as if that one second was enough for Elio to reach behind him, whip out a gun, and aim it right at Buzzcut’s head, pulling the trigger.
Buzzcut’s blood splattered on me, and the clamps clattered with him as he fell to the ground.
He just … killed someone.
Elio dropped the bat, gun still in hand as he approached. He didn’t look at me. Not once. He just went straight to the machine supplying currents to the clamps and turned it off. The silence grew between us, and it stretched even further when he raised his gaze, locking it with mine.
My breathing was loud, while his, as always, was controlled.
“Well, Sport, how’s it hanging?”
I scoffed out a weak laugh. “Wow, Dad, how long did it take you to come up with that—that one? Real original.”
“It is?”
“Very.”
“I’m glad. The moment I saw you hanging, my brain immediately searched for a befitting response to your condition.”
“Really? I’m happy you’re finally learning to give a good sass.”
“Hm. It seems the negative influence you have on my brother is beginning to rub off on me.”
“Maybe we spend too much time together.”
“Maybe.”
And then silence fell, his eyes lingering on mine before falling to my cheek and then my lips. “Are you okay?” he asked, lifting his gaze to mine again.
“As okay as a person hanging from a ceiling for hours could be,” I said.
“Right.”
He came closer; his warm, firm body pressed against mine while one of his arms went around the backs of my thighs, a little below my ass, as he lifted me so that I wasn’t hanging from my own weight anymore.
I suppressed my sigh of relief when he untied the knot at my wrists; the numbness in my hands slowly vanished with the sharp pin-like stabs I felt in my fingers as blood rushed back into them.
He placed me back on my feet, which were bare.
I dropped my arms, my body pressed flush against his, with his arm still around me.
Our gazes locked again. “You can let me go now,” I said.
I lost my balance the moment he did, but he snaked his arm around me, pulling me back to his body. “Steady,” he said; somehow, his voice had grown soft, or maybe I was just reading too much into the gesture.
I pressed my hand against his chest, feeling his muscles beneath my palm as I pushed slightly. “I can stand on my own; I’m not a damsel in distress.”
His gaze roamed my face. “I did just save you.”
“I was handling it well on my own.”
“You were? It’s odd, but I seem to remember untying you a few seconds ago.”
“I would have untied it myself, even if you hadn’t shown up.”
He was still holding me. “A little thank-you doesn’t hurt, Sport.”
“I have nothing to thank you for, Dad.” I pushed away from him, standing on my own two feet, ignoring the tiny wave of dizziness that hit me, ignoring how I felt less warm, being away from his body. “You left me.”
“Not exactly. I would have returned for you if you hadn’t gotten yourself kidnapped.”
I blinked at him. “So, you—you saw them taking me away.”
“I did.”
“And you didn’t do anything?”
“This is ludicrous and will never happen, but would you have stopped them from taking me away if you were the one in my place?”
I couldn’t answer because, yeah, he was right.
“There’s my answer. Come on, I have somewhere to be, and we need to look at your arm before returning to the compound. I honestly wonder how you’re standing after all they seem to have done to you,” he said, walking past me to Buzzcut on the ground.
Ignoring his remark, I asked, “Did you shoot anyone outside? The gunshots—”
“They shot themselves while I used them as human shields. Broke a few faces with the baseball bat. The usual.”
I frowned when he bent, fishing in his pocket for a handkerchief; he covered his hand with it as he searched Buzzcut’s body until he recovered a wallet and pulled out an ID card, examining it before slipping it into his pocket and throwing the wallet back on Buzzcut’s corpse.
“Let’s go,” Elio said, brushing past me.
My stomach ached as I followed behind him.
“You didn’t take that ID card because you want to—” I stopped short when somebody came rushing through the entrance.
The boy was in the same uniform as the other guys, but he had a striking resemblance to Buzzcut, mainly because his hair was also a buzzcut.
He didn’t look like he was more than nineteen.
His frantic eyes swept past Elio and me to Buzzcut’s body, and he screamed, “Papà!”
Elio’s gaze swept between Buzzcut and the boy.
No …
“Elio, don’t—”
The shot rang through before I could even complete that statement; the boy’s body dropped to the ground with a crumpling thud, blood running from the wound on his head.
I stood in shock, my body completely frozen, as Elio slipped the gun back into his pants. “Come on.”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t bring myself to. I felt sick to my stomach.
What the fuck.
What the fucking fuck.
A groan left Elio, and I caught his figure approaching from the corner of my eye. “I don’t have time for this,” he said, grabbing my good arm and pulling me with him.
My head was cloudy, the sound of the gunshot still ringing in my ears, even as Elio reached a black car and opened the door, pushing me inside the passenger’s seat, and rounded the car to the driver’s side; I stared into nothing.
The car started moving, and as we drew further and further away, my breathing became sharper.
Once on the familiar highway, I felt unable to breathe properly. My hands were shaking, and thinking was beginning to feel difficult … The torture, the lack of food, the shocks from the metal clamps, and then this … what I’d just witnessed.
This man had just—he had just … he was—I can’t—I can’t—
“Stop the car.”
“What?”
“Stop the car, now.”
“I do—”
I picked up the gun he’d dropped on the console and pointed it at the side of his head. “Stop the fucking car, or I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”
He glanced at me, annoyance glazing in his eyes as he navigated the car to the side of the road.
The moment he stopped, I was dropping the gun, ignoring my exhaustion and my worn limbs, staggering out and away from the car, taking a lungful of breath, my fingers raking through my hair in frustration.
“Fuck, fuck,” I chanted, trying to calm myself.
The sound of the car door opening and closing had me looking up at Elio, who came to stand outside, leaning on the side of the car hood in my direction as he watched me before fishing in his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter.
He lit it and put everything back in place while he smoked and watched me. There was no remorse in his form, almost like he hadn’t just shot a teenager.
“You didn’t have to kill him,” I said, my voice heavy with anger.
“I did.”
I was thrown back by how direct he sounded—like—like he was in the right. “What the fuck—he was just a fucking—he couldn’t have been more than nineteen! He was innocent!”
He brought the cigarette to his lips, sucked in, and blew out smoke calmly. “Sins are passed on from a parent to a child as long as they share blood. People need to live much better lives, so when they meet their fate, their families don’t have to pay for it.”
I took steps closer to him now, poking at his chest. “That. Is fucking. Bullshit! It’s bullshit twisted in a way that only makes sense to you!”
“I know.”
“Yet you still fucking do it!” I yelled in exasperation.
His brows dropped, and he looked irritated. “It had to be done. If they die, anyone who shares blood with them dies too.”
“Oh, for the love—says who!” I yelled.
“Says me!” he yelled suddenly, and I had to step back momentarily.
He wasn’t one to lose his cool, but he just did.
He threw the cigarette to the ground and closed the space I had created, getting into my face.
“It is my fucking law, and if you keep running your mouth like this, you and your blood relatives will share the same fate. You know them, or you don’t. ”
“Oh, please—”
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Zahra. I have seen you kill people without batting an eye. You don’t think they have family somewhere who would grieve them?”
“That’s different!”
“How is it different? Because they’re above twenty? A life is a life, no matter how old they are.”
My breathing was harsh as I shook my head, looking at him with a newfound hatred. “I hate you; I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you.”
“Okay.”
“You will rot in hell.”
“I know.”
“The world will be a much fucking better place without you in it!”
“As I have devised.”
I wanted to pull my hair out at how unfeeling his voice was. “You’re a fucking murderer! A fucking psychopath and serial fucking killer, a sick unfeeling fucker! A twisted monster! Child-murdering bastard—” His hand gripped my throat as he switched our positions and slammed my body against the car.
“And you’re beginning to get on my nerves.” He seethed, his eyes a deadly mask of anger and something else I didn’t even care to put a name to.
I tried to struggle out of his grip, but he held firm.
I ground my teeth together, looking him dead in the eyes. “I will kill you. Mark my fucking words, Elio, you’ve just made it to my shit list. Watch this fucking face because it will be the last thing you see when you breathe your last.”
“I’m honored to have made it to your list, but I already called dibs on killing me. Genuinely sorry to disappoint.”
I stayed silent, my eyes flickering between his, his words loosening in my head, the meaning clear as fucking day.
“Get off me!” I yelled, pushing at him. He let me go, stepping away with his eyes still dead set on mine. “You’re fucked up,” I said, straightening. “I knew you had a few screws loose, but boy, are you messed up in that fucking head of yours.”
His jaw clenched, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.
I raked my hair from my face, and his eyes followed the movement.
“You’re so gone beyond redemption, and you can’t even see it, Elio,” I said, shaking my head. “Devil deserves better than having you as the only family left. You don’t deserve him.”
He remained quiet, eyes hardening, brows twitching, showing how my words had hit him.
Well—good fucking riddance.
“I don’t know what you think you’re waiting for?” I stepped closer to him. “But you need to hurry the fuck up and get the fuck out of everyone’s faces. No one needs your bullshit, neither do they want you here.”
He remained silent for a while before he swallowed and responded, “Okay.”
I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief before walking away from him and back to the car, needing to get out of there and away from him.