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EIGHT
‘CONTROL’ ZOE WEES
Lexi
My body is broken, bleeding, bruised and used, but standing here between the two men who mean more to me than my next breath…I feel whole.
Alan took me from them, turned me into a slave for his enjoyment, turned my body against me and did his best to break my mind and spirit, but he couldn’t. Before Gio came back in my life, I never had hope of finding freedom from Alan; I never saw a way out that didn’t include my death. I used pills and self-harm as a fake escape, a coping mechanism, pushing my mind to detach from the life I lived. Then Gio did come back, and he brought Luce with him.
Every bruising touch I received from Alan this week, only fueled my hope for my family to find me. Yes, that’s exactly what they are to me. My family. They’re deadly, powerful, resourceful, and they claimed me.
Now they’re bleeding, shot and broken because of Alan and his sick friends. When my sadistic husband couldn’t break me, couldn’t stop me from laughing at his threats and heavy hands, he brought in his friends to help him in his wasted cause of breaking me. Compatriots in his wickedness. They used me, hurt me, raped me, shoving me further to the edge of death, but I’m fucked in the brain now, death wasn’t what found me. So, I endured, and I kept a smile on my face the whole time. I knew my boys would find me.
But now they’re hurt, and the smile on my face is no longer present.
I pull back from them, looking up at Gio, quickly pulling the robe’s tie off my waist and grabbing a rag from the kitchenette. I force him to sit down, ignoring his and Luce’s worry about me, and pull open Gio’s shirt. There’s an entry wound but no exit, and considering the shoulder blade, I guarantee the bullet is painfully lodged there.
“Call your crew and get someone here.” I demand Luce, my vision tinting in red each time Gio grunts in pain. Every drop of blood means his life is closer to the end, and I’m fucking livid.
“I’m fin—” Gio starts, but I cut him off.
“You’re not.” I cup his face; thankful his neck only seems to have been burned by a bullet rather than actually grazed.
“Alan will pay for this.” I promise him before kissing his lips and wiping his forehead.
I turn to Luce and grab the blazer he’s wearing, pulling it open, but he stops me. “I’m fine. I got grazed on the head, no shots anywhere else.”
I want to check him with my own eyes, but a groan from the floor has my eyes snapping to the man who so vilely used me for his pleasure. “Who is he?” Luce says, standing with his gun pointed at the man.
I slowly straighten, my eyes locked on the bastard who did unspeakable things to me, only to ask for my forgiveness afterward like some sick and twisted sinner begging the padre for confession time.
“A dead man.” My voice sounds completely different to my own ears, hollow and empty.
I take the gun from Luce, walking over to the bastard whose eyes roll open, his mouth twisted in pain as he grips his crotch. I snicker at him.
“Ironic that it’s your dick in pain now, huh?” I stand over him, tilting my head as a darkness I’ve never felt before begins to roll through me like a drug. The weight of the gun in my hand would have felt foreign weeks ago, but right now, it feels like an extension of my body. Perfect and natural.
“P-please, don’t-don’t…” He begs me,begs me!
I lift the gun and pull the trigger, the bullet cutting through his hands and straight into his riddled groin. He screams and tries to roll away from me, but I reach down and grab his shoulder, twisting him back so that he’s looking up at me.
I bring the hot barrel of the gun to his forehead and scream in his face.
“YOU BEG ME? YOU DON’T GET TO BEG!”
I pull the trigger, his forehead opening as blood and brain matter splatter against my skin like a gruesome painting, my tears falling as perverse revelry flows through me, pushing me to pull the trigger until the slide stays back and the clip is empty. The popping of the silencer sounds like a death rattle.
Luce’s arms wrap around me, the empty gun falling from my fingers as I break down.
“We need to get out of here now.” Gio says as he stands and walks toward us, his bloody fingers reaching for mine.
I lace my fingers in his and take Luce’s in my other before going toward the door that leads to the next suite. Alan booked both rooms, but I know that he’s not here. Having gotten a call from a potential buyer for me, he left a little over twenty minutes before the alarms for the hotel began to blare.
Alan planned to sell off his wife to someone as equally despicable as himself so he could replenish his bank accounts. It was meant to be my punishment for running away and finding a home in his son’s arms. The fucking bastard. In his cocky mind, the motherfucker never expected Gio to find him.
I push open the door and start to step in, but Luce and Gio both stop me, the latter pulling me to his chest, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder. Luce steps through the door, taking Gio’s gun and holding it out in front of him.
“He’s not here.” I tell them both before pulling Gio through and going for the door, wanting to be seen leaving this room rather than the one with a dead body in it. “He left almost half an hour ago, we need to leave now.”
