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This is a lot fucking harder than I thought it was going to be. Even after everything Daniel has done, at the end of the day, he is still my father, even if I fucking wish he weren’t. The little girl inside me wants the love from her father, the love I thought he had for me, but he never fucking did. He was a good liar, a really good fucking liar. I believed Daniel. Every fucking word he has ever told me, I fucking believed it without fucking question, always being his good little girl. Well, that good little fucking girl is dead because of him, because of him wanting to protect his own fucking life instead of mine.
Everything he has taught me, everything he has said to me, has been nothing but a fucking lie. I honestly don’t know what the fuck to believe anymore. Even now, he has tried to lie, trying to act like he had no idea what I was talking about until I mentioned that fucking video. If I didn’t mention the video, I know he would have continued to fucking lie to me. Daniel is a good fucking lawyer, and I believed all of his fucking lies and fucking bullshit.
Not anymore. My eyes have been opened to him, and I will never fucking be able to look at him the same. I take a deep breath as I make my way into the room. Daniel is screaming at Christian as I make my way over, seeing his missing finger. The once perfect-looking floor is now covered in blood. Now Daniel is finally starting to understand what it feels like to have no fucking power or control. Now he understands what it fucking feels like to scream and fucking scream for help, and no one comes to the fucking rescue. He will never be able to experience what the fuck I went through down in that basement. But I plan on making him come pretty fucking close with the fear and the helplessness.
Daniel’s eyes go to me, and there is so much rage and hate in his eyes, making me wonder if this is how he has always looked at me, and I just never noticed it until now. I slowly kneel in front of him, not saying one fucking word, as I lean forward and start to cut in a new place on his thigh.
“Nicole, fucking look at me,” he screams, but I don’t do as he asks. Nothing he says to me is going to change how this is going to end for him. He was never the fucking father I thought he was, he was always a piece of shit, and I just couldn’t see it. Maybe I just fucking refused to see it. The voices in my head get louder as I carve the name ‘WHORE’ into his thigh.
DIRTY.
WHORE.
SLUT.
PUPPET.
BROKEN.
Those five words will haunt me for the rest of my fucking life because of Sebastian and those fucking men and also because of Daniel. He was supposed to protect me and make sure I was safe and happy. The only thing this man has ever cared about was his fucking self. I was so fucking stupid to think that I was his little girl, the girl he would love and honor and respect and give me away on my wedding day. From the video and how he is acting now, he was never that type of father and never will be.
I watch as Daniel struggles, making the knife cut deeper. His blood covers my hands, and I feel a set of hands wrap around me and bring me to my feet.
“It is done, Bambino,” Christian whispers into my ear as I look down and see that I just started to randomly cut around the word ‘WHORE.’ Daniel’s body is shaking as Christian turns me around and once again leads me out of the room.
I am losing fucking control, all my fucking control.
Daniel doesn’t understand what he has done to me, and even now, in his eyes, in his voice, I can tell he doesn’t fucking regret anything. His screams, his cussing, him struggling against the chains just tell me that if we let him go, he would hurt me, or Christian, or Ty, and I can’t fucking risk that. There is no fucking way.
Even though doing this is taking a piece of me, I have to finish what I have started. Three more words to go before this fucking nightmare can be over. Three more words and all of this will be done, and Christian and I can move on.
Just three more fucking words.
62
Christian
Ilean against the wall, keeping my eyes on Daniel. He hasn’t fucking said a word since I led Nicole out of the room. She is in her old room, which is still the same. What sick fuck sells his daughter and keeps all of her things precisely the way it was before he sold her? What kind of man can live with himself knowing that he allowed men to use and abuse his own flesh and blood?
I have met a lot of men over the years, disgusting, worthless pieces of shit, but Daniel he takes it to a whole new level. This time it is fucking personal. The way he talks to her, the way he looks at her, the way he tried to fucking lie to her, all of it makes me fucking sick. He is the lowest of the low, and what we do to him, he will fucking deserve. He deserves to suffer and scream and cry like the little bitch he is.
This fucking guy makes no fucking sense, and I know, I fucking know that he is fucking hiding something. We all fucking know that he doesn’t care about Nicole. He is only afraid and will say anything to try and fucking survive. I have seen it time and time again: the begging, the pleading, the rage. When someone is about to die, they go through so many different emotions they have no idea what the fuck they are thinking and feeling.
It is probably our body’s way of trying to protect ourselves even though, in the end, the result will still be the same. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he doesn’t regret what he has done to Nicole. Oh fuck no, he regrets that she got out of the fucking sex house alive. I guarantee he was fucking betting on her dying in that basement. That nightmare has haunted my fucking dreams since I found her, the thought of me never finding her, the thought of all those fucking men touching her, abusing her.
It makes me fucking see nothing but pure fucking red. He hasn’t even said anything to me, and I want to punch him in the fucking face. I look from Daniel to Ty. Ty is leaning against the wall behind Daniel with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes haven’t left the fucker since this all started, and I have a feeling he will not take his eyes off him until the job is done, and the job will be done when he is fucking dead. When Daniel is no longer breathing, we will all be able to walk away, and I know Ty and I will not lose a bit of fucking sleep over it, either. It is Nicole I am worried about. She is right when she says she is not like me or Ty.
Honestly, I don’t want her to fucking be like us. She is good, kind, gentle, fucking pure at heart, and I want her to fucking stay that way, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that what we do tonight doesn’t fucking destroy her the way it destroyed me. I didn’t show my Padre how my first kill affected me, but a part of me died that day and was replaced with the starting of a mostro. The start of the mostro that I am right now, and I wouldn’t fucking change it.
My job as Nicole’s husband is to fucking protect her, and that includes protecting her from her own mind, which can be a dangerous and hard thing to do. The war within us is more deadly than the physical world. The battle within ourselves can take us to places that we can never fucking escape from. We can’t fucking walk away from our minds like we can from a lifeless body in the street.
I will walk through hell with her if that is what it takes to make sure she is safe and protected. I will gladly give my life if it means that she will get to live a life free of all of the shit Daniel, Sebastian, and all of the other men have put her through. She deserves a life that is filled with happiness, security, stability, and so much fucking more, and I will give her it all.
63
Nicole
Day 3 - Slut
