AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m out of it again. To the point that, the next time I blink, I realize I’ve been removed from my cell. My near lifeless body hits every step they heave me up and bears the cutting pain of every crack in the cement ground. I’m dragged into another interrogation room where we play the same games.
By the time I’m dumped back in my cell, I’m coughing up blood. My skin’s cold and I can’t still myself. I’m twitching as if I’m still being electrocuted.
I crawl to the corner before collapsing into another feverish dream.
“Psycho,” Stitches says in my ear. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough? Don’t you think you should leave the lady alone? How long are you gonna stalk her?”
My teeth grit in warning. “I’ve told you. It’s in her best interest.”
He raises a skeptical brow. “She could just hire her own security.”
“We’re her security, asshat. And I’m not stalking her.”
I’m definitely stalking her—but it’s rationalized in my head. Delphine is mine and I’ve been away for too long. Twelve fucking years too long.
It’s time I come collect. She’ll realize she still craves me in the same way I crave her. She just needs… a little convincing.
“Bernie contact you with an update?”
“Not yet. He hasn’t answered his phone. You know how he can be. He’s a Gen X guy who acts like a Boomer.”
Stitches chuckles at his own joke. I’ve moved on to pouring myself another drink at the minibar in the club office.
Delphine stood me up for dinner at Grimaldi’s. She’s probably still at work. It’s tempting to stop by and interrupt her—see the frustration bloom across her beautiful face at the same time desire heats her caramel skin.
Last night when I visited her office after-hours, she was flustered just like she was a teenager again. I’d wanted to kiss her so badly…
“Make sure you get a hold of him.”
“It’s almost nine. She should be leaving the office by now. He’s probably tailing her.”
The next day, I find out about the fuck up with her security detail. Bernie’s kid was hit by a car and Oscar didn’t make it on shift to cover in time.
Visiting Delphine’s apartment, she’s clearly shaken. She’s not herself.
My stomach pits. Something very bad has happened. Though she’s vague, providing me some bullshit story about a purse snatcher. I don’t buy a word of it. Her injuries don’t match up and neither does the hurt in her glassy eyes.
It’s another few weeks before I find out what really happened. Another failure.
If I’d gone to her office like I’d thought about…
Wild, guttural screams jar me enough to pull me out of my head. I don’t jerk or flail this time, but my eyes do pop open, and I inhale a sharp, painful, gasping breath.
The screams are coming from the other side of the cinderblock wall. The guy in the cell next to mine.
I guess I’m not the only one tortured. But his seems to come sparingly, with long periods in between. I’ve been subjected to who knows how many rounds, and this is the first time I’ve ever heard him… beyond the time he tried to speak to me.
My body protests my movements. I try to sit up and wince as my ribs rattle and the sliced-open flesh on my back burns. My arms are too weak to support myself, and my left hand’s so fucked up, it’ll never be the same.
“She’s gone!” someone laughs. “She’s fucking gone!”
The screaming continues. A raw, maddening level of panic similar to my own that day in the room with the glass pane.
The contrast between the sounds—absolute horror and sick amusement—makes my skin slick with sweat. I’m not even the one being tortured, and I feel it. How fucked up whatever it is that’s happening is going on. Though it’s unsurprising.
I’m trapped in hell on earth with the devil in human form.
The man in the cell next to mine is too.
