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8
Jessa
“Wes,”I whisper his name, though I know it doesn’t matter anymore if they hear me. Before he can answer me, the door opens. I can tell because the door squeaks when you open and close it. A set of footsteps accompany the squeaking of the door and my heart races so fast I think I’m in danger of having a heart attack. Dear lord, I hope Trey and Declan are coming. A second ticks by and then the bag on my head is ripped away forcefully.
My eyes blink open and it feels like the sun is burning into my retinas. Scanning the room I try to take in my surroundings. I don’t get very far before a large man comes to stand in front of me, blocking out most of the overhead light, making it easier for me to see. I peer up at the man and wish I hadn’t. Terror grips me in an instant. The man before me is as menacing as it gets. Dark eyes, scarred skin, with tattoos on his face. He looks like a gang member, and he’s staring at me like I’m a prime rib and he hasn’t eaten in seven days.
“Mhm…I don’t think it will take much to break you, little one,” he tells me in a thick Middle Eastern accent, his fingers gliding across my yoga pant covered leg. “It will still be fun though, for me… not so much for you.” He chuckles as if anything he’s said is amusing.
When he turns away from me, I scan the room looking for Wes. As soon as I find him, the man that was just in front of me, starts walking over to him. He rips the bag from his head and grabs him by the back of his neck, forcing his head backward.
“I’m guessing it will be hard to break you and even though I would enjoy the challenge very much, they hired me to do it fast, so…” The guy releases Wes with a shove and moves his chair to face me. My eyes find his russet brown ones. I can see the pain, the guilt, the shame in them, and I swear it takes everything inside me not to break down and start crying.
Sucking a ragged breath into my burning lungs, I try and rationalize the situation. Everything's going to be okay, it has to be. I force another breath into my heaving chest. My mind is reeling, as the giant walks back over to me. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, not wanting to make eye contact with him out of fear of what may happen if I do. Horror that I can’t disguise overtakes my features when he pulls out a knife with a long blade from a holster on his leg. It looks like it’s used to skin animals, and I swallow praying that he doesn’t plan to use that on either of us.
“What should I cut off first? Maybe we’ll start with just some skin. You do have beautiful skin, little one.” His sinister eyes taking in the blade, running his finger over the edge as if to show how sharp it is. “Have you ever seen someone being skinned alive?” The guy turns to Wes this time. “It’s quite the sight. There is really nothing like it.”
My body trembles and it dawns on me then that this man plans to skin me like a fish. Glancing up at him our eyes meet. His are darker than black, how that’s possible, I don’t know. A shiver runs down my spine, the evil inside him pouring out and into the room, wrapping around my throat, suffocating the good. He brings the knife to my shoulder, the blade barely grazing my skin. I can’t help it. I’m so terrified that I start to shake uncontrollably. Tears well in my eyes and I drop my gaze down to my lap, refusing to let Wes see how scared I am. I have to hide my emotions, the fear, the pain. I need to mask it, or they’ll use me against him, against all three of them.
“Stop!” Wes yells. “What do you want to know?” His voice trembles, giving away his fear.
The giant laughs so hard I think he might drop the knife. He laughs like a serious laugh, like somehow Wes’s fear for my safety is funny, the funniest thing he’s ever seen.
“Are you kidding me? This might be my new record.” And just as quickly as his laugh filled them, it is gone, the grim look on his face is back, and a little bit scarier than last time.
“See, the problem is, I was really looking forward to doing this, so I’m taking a few slices of her skin off anyway, just for good measure. I’m sure you’ll understand,” he chuckles, like the fucked up bastard he is before bringing the knife back to my shoulder.
Oh god. Sucking in a greedy breath, I let the air fill my lungs while I squeeze my eyes shut at the same time. Don’t cry. Stay strong. I keep telling myself. I try and remove myself mentally from the situation, but I’m not prepared for what comes next.
The cold metal of the blade touches my skin, and then without warning, it slices into my flesh like it’s hot butter. It feels like I’m being burned, the blade cutting through tissue, as pain lances across my shoulder.
“Stop, please stop. Hurt me. Just…stop…” Wes’s voice cuts off, raw emotion pouring out of him. I clench my teeth together, my jaw aching with the effort as I will myself not to scream, ignoring the cry of pain lodged in my throat. I refuse to open my eyes, to see the bastard’s smile, to see the tears I know are in Wes’s eyes.
Pressure is applied to the edge of the blade, and it slices deeper, the pain intensifying until it becomes all-consuming and I can no longer hold it in. An agonizing cry rips from my chest and echoes through the small room. I sob, feeling the warm blood seep into my shirt, rivulets of blood dripping down my chest. My nails dig into my palm and I wish the pain would stop.
And to my utter shock, the knife disappears, the blade is no longer touching my skin and the pain lessens with the loss of contact. I try to rationalize what is going on, but in my mind, I cannot come up with anything. I open my eyes and look up, confused. What’s going on? Have I passed out? Is this a dream?
Two large bodies dressed in all black move with lightning speed through the room. A shot is fired, the deafening sound of it in such a small space, making my ears ring. Another body drops to the floor. There’s a pounding that starts to form behind my eyes, my head throbbing along with my shoulder, the ache pulsing in sync with my erratic heartbeat.
Within seconds, I feel hands on me. I jerk away on instinct, but then I realize that said hands are warm and gentle, not rough and cruel. I try and focus on the person crouching beside me, cutting through the cable ties that were keeping me attached to the chair.
We’re being rescued, or are we?
“Are you okay?” A familiar voice finally gets through to me, cutting through the terror-filled fog clinging to my mind.
“Trey?” I croak as his green eyes come into view.
“We’re here. You’re going to be fine, Princess,” Trey assures me, even though I don’t feel like I’m going to be fine.
Looking straight ahead I watch as Declan frees Wes from his chair. My eyes move to the ground, the evil man’s body lays in a heap on the floor, a bullet right between his eyes. Relief washes over me at the sight, and I release a ragged sob. They found us, they really found us. I don’t know how they did it, but I don’t care. They are here now. We’re all alive. Everything is going to be okay. It has to be.
Trey wraps his arm around me and pulls me off the chair. My shoulder throbs at the contact, and I grit my teeth, holding back a wince.
“We need to get out of here, before more men are sent in, or someone finds us.”
“Okay,” I manage to say as Trey pushes me into Wes’s arms. Declan leads the way, Wes and I follow him closely, and Trey covers us from behind. Both of them have their weapons drawn, and Wes shields me with his body while moving us along.
“Are you okay?” Wes asks in a low voice, as we move quickly. I know he’s worried, and parts of me are too. We could’ve died. I’ve never been more sure of it in my life and the realization of it weighs heavily on my heart. This was my father’s doing. These were men he hired, men he told to watch us.
