CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ZAC
We stay downstairs in the basement just listening to her screams.
Screams that seem to bounce off the walls and I just want to hit father and son in the face as they laugh. I can’t sit still, I want to do something, anything to make the screaming stop but I have to stay in my chair with my laughter painted on my face. Marco and Mark sit in their chairs, drinks in their hands, Marco a cognac and Mark a beer just talking and laughing as if they are down their local bar having a drink, I can’t understand it. They hold the fate of one girl in their hands and they are just acting like they would any other night. Marco’s attitude must be how he has become as good as he has, he doesn’t care he just does what he thinks. As long as it gets the job done then that’s all that matters to him. I can’t help but admire him, he knows what he wants, and he isn’t ashamed and he won’t answer to anyone. I watch as he slides a hand into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigars handing one to each of us before lighting them for us. I take a long drag and exhale the woody smoke letting all my angst feeling go with it.
I’m here, I’m in Mexico.
One step closer to my home run.
Everything was on a thin rope just waiting for me to get to this point and I’ve done it.
I’ve fucking done it. I give away another exhale instantly feeling calmer and listening in on the conversation around me.
“Don’t worry, boys, she’ll give in by the time we’re done with her. She’ll be putty in our hands and then I’ll make sure that fucking arsehole and his sons have a front row seat when I record it and send it to the motherfucker.”
“But, Dad, I’ve tried everything, and she hasn’t broken yet. What if she doesn’t?” Mark almost whines to his father like a stupid child. Marco pulls his cigar from his lips and takes another drink, looking between us.
“There’s still just over four weeks. I don’t care how strong the little bitch thinks she is she’ll break. You’ll have worse than her in the future. You’ll have all sorts, so you best get used to the challenge.” He takes another sip of his drink and then puts the glass down.
“Or I will find someone else.” Marco says, and all is silent except for more screams coming from the locked door. I had almost forgotten what we were doing, almost anyway.
It seems to go on for hours but eventually the screams die down to just whimpers and I giveaway a sigh. It’s hard to remember why I’m here when all I can do is hear her scream out in pain. When all I want is to help her. Those blue eyes really looked into me. When I came here I thought I could just see a body but when those eyes looked into my own I saw a soul. A soul that was in pain and desperately pleading to me for help, but I didn’t move from my chair.
I didn’t do anything and that makes me just as bad as them.
Good, that’s what I’m meant to be. It doesn’t help to have feelings for your prisoner because at the end of the day that’s all she is.
A prisoner.
A slave. I stay put when Marco and Mark both go up to bed. I want to ask them questions about the girl but neither of them seem bothered and I have to play my role, so I just watch them leave the basement. I can hear them both get settled above me and I wait at least an hour before I move from my seat. I don’t know what makes me want to do it, guilt, curiosity, but I find myself wanting to take one more look at her. If it is just her and me, maybe I can find out more of my answers just watching her. Maybe, just maybe, I can understand why she is here, to know that what we are doing is justice. I open the door and as the light shines through the break I can see her hanging like a fallen angel. She is beautiful. She looks beautiful as she is strung above me. I can see the damage inflicted and I just want to make it all better for her but we both have a big part to play in the future. I have to remember that and just hope for the best. I step towards her as if with each of my steps I can break her. I can see the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes and the way her breasts peak to attention at my gaze. I slowly put my arm around her and untie her wrists. Her arms fall like a dead weight, but I smother them within my hold. I use my other arm to loop under her thighs and move her to the left of the room before going on my knees and holding her towards my body, just hoping I can give her a little warmth. She feels so cold and I can sense the sweet smell of her as it engulfs my nose. I look down on her, taking in the delicate shape of her nose, the point of her upper lip and fullness of the bottom that I can just imagine would be amazing to kiss. I can see small tears fall down her cheeks. She has gone into a deep sleep, but her body still cries and I can’t help but feel sorry for what she has been through and what is still to come. No matter what no one deserves this, but I am helping. I have to help, everything is at risk if I don’t get through this. I have to do it, it shouldn’t matter who the girl is, this is my job, I have to do my part.
Her eyes flutter and I can see the length of the lashes that fan around her closed eyes. I want to touch her, I want to touch her so bad. Her eyes flutter again and then her eyes open slowly, and I am faced with the most beautiful clear blue eyes I have ever seen.
Why do I feel like I know her? Those eyes, I get the sense from deep within my gut that I have seen these eyes before, but I just can’t think where. Her eyes close again and I try to wake her up, to see the beauty once again, but she is too far gone into sleep. She looks so peaceful.
When I know there is no chance of her waking again I gently lay her down on the cold floor. She finally feels warmer. I know it won’t last long if she is on this floor, but I don’t know what else I can do. Too much is holding on to me doing well with Marco, but the only thing I want to do is tell him to fuck off. They can both fuck off. But I can’t, not yet anyway. I have to keep remembering my end game, that is all that matters.