Page 2 of Wrecked By a Devil

The closer I get, the louder the voice becomes and I can now understand what the guy is saying. “I’m going to ask one more time,” the voice is cold, almost cruel. “Who is taking the girls?”

The room is barely lit, but I spot a tall, painfully gorgeous figure standing in front of another man in chains. The chained man is unrecognizable beneath the blood and sweat covering his body. His head hangs low, dark curls plastered to his forehead, chest rising in shallow, uneven breaths.

My eyes drift to the long metal rod in the handsome man’s hands. For a second, my brain refuses to understand what I’m looking at. The low lighting turns everything soft around the edges, making it appear unreal, until he suddenly swings it what I now think is a polished steel baton.

A loud thud echoes through the room as metal crashes against flesh.

I flinch so hard, I barely manage to keep my balance and avoid falling.

The sound the chained man releases is unlike anything I have ever heard. Completely broken and raw, dragged violently from deep inside of him, it’s the kind of sound that makes my stomach twist before my mind can even process it.

The man in chains jerks against the restraints, the metal rattling over his head, but he doesn’t say a word. I wonder if he was trained to endure torture. I remember once watching a documentary about Navy SEALs and how they all underwent a program called SERE. I don’t remember what the name stands for but it was a special training teaching them how to get through a not so friendly interrogation. Though the guy looks nothing like a Navy SEAL, and I’m pretty sure that this isn’t a military operation.

I notice the blood spatters everywhere around him, and I have to fight the urge to throw up.

The worst part is probably that the man torturing him doesn’t look affected by any of it.

His expression remains calm, almost as if he’s bored. I wonder how someone can be so beautiful yet monstrous all at once.

As he raises the steel baton again, my heart drops and I gasp.

“Oh shit…”

The words barely leave my mouth before he turns around and our eyes meet. I see my whole life flash before my eyes.

For a short heartbeat, he just stares at me from across the room. The look on his face is cold, terrifyingly calm, and that somehow manages to scare me more.

“Oh shit, shit, shit!”

I sprint down the hallway, my heart beating so fast, I’m worried it might jump out of my chest.

He’s at least 6’4 and being a petite who doesn’t do cardio, I don’t manage to get far before he catches up to me without even breaking a sweat. His hand lands on my shoulder and before I know it, I’m pinned against the wall, his tall figure towering me.

Up close, he’s even worse. Beautiful in a way that feels unfair. Dark hair and sharp jaw. Eyes so green, an emerald would be jealous of them.

But there is blood splattered across his collar.

Yet, his smell invites me in, a mix of smoke and expensive cologne, dangerously clean beneath all the chaos.

“Oh shit…” I release a breathless whisper, as his gaze drags over my face painfully slowly.

All the years of self-defense classes kick in and before I can lose my nerve, I drive my knee upward as hard as I can.

He curses sharply, his body folding just enough for me to bolt.

I don’t even know how, but I manage to return to the dressing room backstage, bumping into some of the staff members at the door.

“Finally!” Mia walks up to me. “They’ve been calling us, we need to go on stage like right now!”

“No, we need to leave this place immediately! Something’s off!”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I don’t know,” I struggle to catch my breath. “But if we stay, we’re going to get in trouble and it’s the last thing we need.”

Mia nods, taking my hand as we, both step out into the corridor. However, the moment we step out of the room, a staff member grabs my arm.

“Your turn,” she says, coldly, dragging me in the opposite direction of where I came from just minutes before. I try to get out of her grip, but no luck.