Page 79 of Taint My Soul

“Two weeks,” Vincent states sharply, getting my attention. He doesn’t look up at me. “Two weeks.” A low, menacing chuckle escapes his lips. “Two weeks, and you gave me nothing.”

“Cyrus didn’t keep his end of the bargain.” My voice thickens with fear, draining away all the euphoric feeling that danced across my skin minutes ago.

“It wasn’t enough!” He barks at me, eyes flashing with untamed rage. “I don’t care whether Cyrus decides not to hold up the end of his bargain. You were supposed to get me something!”

“But I did. I sent you the map. I… I…” My voice cracks as tears form in my eyes, clinging stubbornly to my lower lids.

He pauses as his face turns stone-cold. “Fuck him up a bit, Neo.” Vincent orders, and cocks his head toward me.

“Let me do it.” David’s dreadful voice slices through the air. My heart jumps into my throat, and my eyes snap in his direction. He leans off the wall and steps into the low light. Vincent glances at him and then gives a nod of approval. He barrels toward me like the harbinger of chaos he is, tackling me to the ground. Eyes void of emotion, he lifts his fist and brings it down against my jaw in a sharp strike. My body curls with pain. I don’t fight him. I want to. Every nerve in me burns for retaliation, but I can’t.

I stay still and take his violence the same way I’ve always done.

And I know he’s doing this to show me he still has power over me. That even though Vincent calls the shots, he’s still the monster lingering in the shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

Memories hit me with full force. The dark basement. The cage. The broken plates on the dinner table. The nights he argued with his ex-girlfriend.

His savage remarks cut through the air relentlessly.

The metallic taste of blood floods my tongue before Neo pulls him off of me. But he still has that menacing smile on his face that monstrosity in his eyes.

“For a little motivation, your uncle has moved in next door.” Vincent declares.

“What?” I choke on the coppery taste of blood in my mouth. “Please. Please.” My stomach rolls with petrifying fear.

“You have until next week, and he’s free to do whatever he wants to you as long as he doesn’t kill you.” Vincent’s gaze wanders toward me.

“No, no, no, no.” Desperation bleeds through every uneven breath that shatters out of my lungs. My eyes fly wide, and I shake my head too fast, trying to sit up, but the pain keeps me down. “You can’t do this. You can’t,” I choke out, chest heaving violently. “He’ll kill me. Please, please.” Terror flashes in my eyes, and I look up at him for mercy. He rises to his feet, walks around me whilst Neo follows behind.

David squats in front of me. His hands rest on my jaw and lift my face so that my eyes lock on his. “Don’t worry. I’ll only be watching from a distance. Just make sure you do what you’re asked, and you’ll be free.” His hand gently curves my cheeks, and he smiles sinisterly. “I will be free from him.”

He regains his footing and heads for the exit. The sound of his footsteps lingers like a minacious ghost. My hands tremble at my side, my voice thinning out, broken and humiliated.

Pain flares all over my body as I push up to my knees. My shoulders quake, hot tears leaking down my cheeks.

He’s won.

He’s won it all.

He won again. Again. Again.

A slow, vicious scream pushes through me, but I keep it in, and it fucking kills me.

It kills me that it’s happening all over again.

It kills me that Vincent handed me over to him like I’m worthless.

Sharp, jagged breaths spill from my lips. I pick myself up from the floor and drag my feet toward the door. I shut the door and turn around, leaning against the wooden frame. I wipe the blood off my mouth and stagger to the bathroom, peeling my clothes from my body.

My clenched fists press into the wooden vanity as I stare at my broken reflection. All the scars all over my body. The torture I’d taken for Saint. The bruise of David’s callousness. I swipe my arm over my nose, wiping off the blood one more time.

I lift my hand, fist coming against the mirror. My knuckles shatter the glass, and my blood rolls down the fissured, broken mirror.

He’s trusting me.

He’s finally trusting me.

I’ll have to exploit that. I don’t have a choice. Even though it hurts that I have to put myself first. The most important thing is survival. Not feeling or wanting a man who’s as dangerous as my captors.