Finding Me (The Bad Boy Series) (2 page)

Minutes.

Hours.

Days.

Time had seemed to have slipped by me once again, reminding me that I am not living. I was just moving through the motions of a person who felt dead inside.

My eyes darted to my right as I heard an unmistakable strangled moan, I spotted Viv hunched up against the other wall. Blood poured out from a wound on her leg. A makeshift tourniquet made from a towel and a belt was wrapped around her thigh, doing nothing to stop the blood from seeping out onto the floor beneath her. She was pale. Her beautifully styled hair was now disheveled and matted with blood. Whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to be good.

“I hope you’re comfortable, princess,” Jack snarled, getting down on bended knee in front of me. “You’re going to be here for a while.”

He leaned in close, his vile smelling breath lingering on my skin. Turning my stomach.

“Scared, princess?” He leered. “Because you should be.”

Bile rose to my throat from the bitter threat that tumbled from Jack’s poisonous lips, as sweat beaded along my forehead and chest. Terror filled every pore of my body from the look of sheer determination, anger and hopelessness in Jack’s eyes. I didn’t know what scared me more: the blankness in his stare that clearly showed more than just an angry man, or the sickening smile on his face that chilled me to the core.

“I … I don’t u … understand,” I stuttered, my throat was becoming tighter and tighter from the panic that was taking over my body.

“Of course you don’t, they didn’t fucking tell you, did they?!” Jack screamed, his face taking on a dark shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly from his uneven panting as he leaned in close.

I had no idea what he was talking about. Who didn’t tell me? I was confused, terrified and in pain. My thoughts were obscured from the sheer panic and agony that my body was suddenly hit with. Why was he doing this to me? I didn’t put him in jail, I wasn’t there when he killed my father. So why was he doing this to me? 

“I don’t know w … what you’re talking a … about,” I said, my voice staggering as I willed my right hand to move.

“No, you have no fucking idea! You have no fucking idea what your father put me through. What he took from me. He destroyed everything! She wasn’t supposed to be there!” he screamed, his voice so full of pain and desperation.

“Who wasn’t supposed to be there?” I asked tentatively.

I had no clue who or what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was blaming my father for it. I just didn’t understand what I had to do with it. I couldn’t see the connection, all I could see was pain etched across this man’s face. Desperately trying to hang onto the last shred of sanity that he possessed, but he was quickly crumbling under the weight of the grief that seeped from every pore. This man wasn’t evil, this man was desperate. It was in his eyes, the eyes that I once stared right through just ten years before. The eyes that told such a heartbreaking story amongst the lapping waves of color, I was just too young, too innocent and too blind to see.  In this dark, cold and evil world, the demons that capture me within the night live within all of us. Taunting us, and slowly destroying us all. 

Suddenly, colors danced in my line of vision as pain shot through my right shoulder, rendering me breathless. If I was standing up, it would have completely floored me. The room suddenly became blurry, as if I had dived straight into murky open waters of the darkest raging seas.

“You don’t get to ask questions, you are here to pay a debt that is long overdue. Ten years overdue, princess,” he sneered.

I couldn’t have spoken again even if I wanted to, the pain in my shoulder had left me utterly speechless. The unspeakable pain that coursed through my body, had completely taken over every thought. Hot, wet tears slowly made their way down my tender cheeks as the realization hit me: Jack wasn’t going to let me go, he was going to kill me. This is what he meant, he said I should be scared. But I wasn’t scared. I was completely paralyzed with fear.

   “Don’t do this, please.” I watched as Angel begged his father to stop, tears streaming down his bruised face. “I’ll do anything you want. Just please don’t hurt them.”

It was right there that I understood Angel, the Angel that was hiding behind those beautiful, deep blue eyes. He wasn’t sick or twisted for bringing me here, he was frightened. And in a way I felt for him.

Everything was as clear as if I was there in his bedroom myself, watching as the ten year old Angel begged his father to stop beating his mom. I saw the pain and anguish etched onto his innocent little face. I saw a child in fear for his mother's life and his own from the man who was supposed to love them. I saw… defeat. Jack had used his fists upon his child and his wife, scarring them, marking them for life. Pushing them until they had become a shell of themselves, blaming them, killing them slowly.

“You fucking dare defy me, boy?!” Jack boomed, turning his attention to Angel.

Jack suddenly lunged at Angel, pulling a gasp from my lips as he lifted his son from the floor by his neck. The sound of Angel gasping for breath filling the silence of the dark and desolate room brought fresh tears to my eyes, he was going to kill him. Oh god, he was going to kill him! “Please stop, don’t hurt him. Please, please, please!” I screamed in my head as I watched Jack’s large fist rear back before flying straight into Angel’s jaw, flinging him into the air only to crash down on the floor. Hard.

The tears were coming thick and fast as Jack moved over to Angel; the man who had saved me from my own demons was now being tortured by them. I couldn’t stand and watch Jack torture him, torture me, torture the people he was supposed to love.

Jack was looming over Angel’s limp and lifeless body, taking the crumpled shirt into his fist and pulling him up as if ready to give him another blow to the face. Angel’s head lulled and bobbed as he was moved, he was out cold. He was pale and another fist to his face could potentially kill him, and the only indication he was still alive were the whimpers and groans that escaped his lips.

I needed to stop his, I wouldn't just sit back and watch as a pathetic excuse of a man pummels his son to death. I wouldn't stand by and watch an innocent man take the beating that was meant for me, I won’t have anyone else hurt because of my past.

“You vile piece of shit!” I screeched. My head and my throat screamed at me as pain shot through my limbs.

Jack’s head quickly turned as a snarl slowly appeared on his lips as he brought his attention back to me. Oh God.

“Got something you want to say, princess?” He leered as he released Angel’s shirt from his fist.

He slowly moved closer, every hard, powerful step raising my already rapid heartbeat. He was standing above me, a cocky and determined grin now breaking across his lips. 

“Why are you doing this?” I whimpered.

I needed to do this, I needed to pull the attention away from anyone else. I would not let him hurt anyone else.

“Why? Like I said, your debt is long overdue, darlin’. And I have come to collect.” He laughed, the sarcastic tone in his laughter making me shiver in fear. Fuck, what the hell was he talking about? I was completely in the dark. What the fuck have I done to deserve this? Does he think that it was my father’s fault he went to jail? Surely he isn’t that deluded, right?

I was suddenly pulled from my thoughts as something shone in the corner of my eye. I don’t know why it piqued my interest, but when you are staring into the face of death, a distraction is a welcoming sight from the reality waiting for you.

Turning my head ever so slightly, I squinted my eyes as I tried to make out what the object was. My vision wasn’t as good as it should be, the pain that pushed through my body like a raging bull had stolen my ability to focus. The throb of my head and shoulder was insanely painful, and I had no idea how much longer I could deal with it.  

“I don’t understand, Jack. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I whispered, not wanting to aggravate him any further.

“Fuck no, you don’t understand. Nobody understands! Your father took something precious from me, so fucking precious. So now I am going to take something precious from him. You.” His voice was determined and unwavering.

What the hell did he mean my father took something precious? I didn't understand. My eyes quickly darted over to Angel who was still in a heap on the floor, I wanted so much to scream at him to wake up and help me. I wanted him to wake up, just to say “it’s okay.”

“Jack, please. Please don’t hurt me,” I whimpered.

I watched as a lazy grin appeared again as he slowly started to chuckle, bringing his right hand up to his chin. And that’s when I saw it, the glint that had caught my eye moments before. I gasped as Jack scratched the stubble on his chin, the scraping sound of his stubble overwhelming my ears as a slow beating throb pounded in my head.

“Do you know how many different ways you can kill someone with a knife, Neva?” He smiled maliciously, the blade that was scraping against his chin only moments before shone against the poor lighting in the room.

             
The room was silent, deafeningly so. It was as if Jack wanted me to answer his sick and twisted question. Did he really want me to answer? But my mind was now running into overdrive as this question settled deep within my body, I had come up with four different ways he could kill me with that knife. All as bloody and brutal as the next, but what scared me the most was the question that I had conjured up within my mind … just
how many
different ways could he kill me?

             
“I…I don’t k-know,” I stumbled, my fear escalating  beyond comprehension.

             
“Well, princess,” he started, bending down on one knee in front of me, “if you want an instant kill, there are very few. Maybe around two or three, but we aren’t going for instant kill. We want slow, painful and torturous … just like what Brandon did to me.”

             
“What has my father got to do with all of this?” I asked, trying to keep my focus on Jack’s eyes and not on the deathly blade that rested in his hand.

             
“Your father? Your fucking father took something from me that I can never get back … have you any idea what that feels like, Neva? To have your world crumble underneath your feet?”

             
“YES!” I wanted to scream, how could he ask me such a question? He was the sole reason why my world crumbled underneath my feet, plunging me into the darkness that consumed me. Torturing me for a lifetime. Yes, I knew exactly how that felt. The feeling of pure heartbreak, daggers penetrating my heart over and over again as I lost control of reality. It is a pain that crushes your lungs, leaving you breathless, gasping for breath as the grief runs through your veins like a tsunami. It is a never-ending stream of misery, throwing you into a colorless world of suffering, while everyone around you smiles within the weight of the sadness. It is consuming. It is the reality of grief, my reality.

             
“Yes, Jack. I know exactly how that feels,” I whispered as memories of that night flashed before my eyes: the pain, and the heartbreak … the chaos.

             
“No, you don’t. You think you do, but you have no fucking idea.” He grunted, looking down at the floor between us.

             
“How can you say that?” I asked, my voice timid and close to breaking.

             
“Because you have never had a child ripped away from you, you have never had to stand there as your wife bled out and so close to death as my daughter slowly died from suffocation.”

             
What?

             
“You lost a child?” I whispered, the shock in my voice hard to mask.

             
Angel had never said anything about having a sibling, let alone a sibling that had died. My eyes quickly darted to Angel who was still not moving. Why didn’t he tell me? Did he know?

             
“No use looking at him for answers, it was before he was born.”

             
“Does he know?”

             
“Yes. I reminded him every single day when I picked up a bottle of whiskey.”

             
“What happened? And what has this got to do with my father?”

             
“What has it got to do with your father? Fuck! It has got everything to do with your father. He killed my fucking daughter!” he roared as he stood from his crouched position.

             
“He … what? I don’t understand! What the hell are you taking about?!” I screeched, my throat becoming tight with every heaving breath I took. Surely he was mistaken, my father wouldn’t have killed anyone. I knew my father, he wouldn’t have hurt a fly.             

Jack suddenly started pacing as if frantic with grief and anger, I should have kept my big mouth shut.

              “Your fucking father killed my unborn daughter! The stupid fuck drove straight into the side of my wife’s truck, completely smashing her side. She was seven months pregnant with our daughter, Faith.”

             
“I … no, you’re wrong,” I whispered. Shocked as to what he was telling me, he can’t be telling the truth.