His fingers shake, but after swallowing hard, he reaches down and captures it in his fist. “Take her,” he says while circling around the table, his gaze on the door.
“Where?”
Arno shrugs. “With you. Any-fucking-where but here. Take her upstairs. My men are too riled. I need her alive, and…” He stops in his tracks, and his entire body rises with the force of his inhale. “You’re the only one I can trust. It’s only for a few hours anyway.” He shrugs and looks back at me, his expression the grim mixture of a smile and a grimace. “She’ll be gone tomorrow.”
I forceher to walk up two flights of stairs and into the apartment Arno lets me crash in. She staggers, leaving a trail of blood the entire way, but I don’t bother to disguise it. Let Arno get the mess. I hope he has to get on his fucking hands and knees with bleach to erase every trace of her. Maybe then he’ll remember that “babysitter” isn’t listed on my fucking résumé.
She’s silent when I shove her through the narrow living room without bothering to turn the light on. I sense her body stiffen. She’s pale enough to glow in the dark when I shut the door behind me and twist the lock.
A true monster would get off on her fear. The pain makes her sway. Blood dribbles down her neck, emanating from her like perfume. A part of me can’t resist breathing it in. Then I surge forward and shove her down the hallway before she can bleed all over the fucking floor.
“Get into the tub.” I grit the command out while I flick the bathroom light on and drag her into the narrow space by her forearm.
It’s a tight fucking fit. She has to practically climb over the toilet in order to obey me. With one hand, she clutches at her bleeding ear and eyes the basin of the tub with a wary expression. Her free hand slides down her hip to tug at the hem of her dress, and I imagine her trying to decide the most ladylike course of action to climb inside it.
I make the decision for her and ram my open palm against her shoulder. She goes down hard, smacking her chin off the tiled wall, but she curls up on her side, small enough to fit inside the coffin-like space with room to spare.
Blood wells up beneath her. Already, her eyes are unfocused, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling. Frowning, I snatch a towel from the nearby rack and throw it toward her.
“Put pressure on it,” I tell her while I crane my neck back to take in the mess she’s already made all over the floor.
Arno won’t be the only one forced to scrub tonight. Fuck.
The girl obediently curls her fingers around the edge of the white towel, but she doesn’t move. She eyes the ceiling instead, and I leave her there, cutting off the light before I slam the door shut. Her blood spots the carpet. I can see it even in the darkness. I can smell it. I can smell her.
Ignoring both, I turn and enter the flat’s single bedroom. Then I slam the door shut and try to get some fucking sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Daniela
Though I walkthroughthe valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.It sounds good enough in theory, but no one tells you that, when you’re taken from that valley, all you fear is the pain. Your body aches with it. For so long, it’s put up with the torment. The agony. Fear is a pathetic emotion, but pain rules all.
It’s haunted me ever since I left the hotel, lapping at the horrific memories that have only chosen now to surface. It chases my every breath, and at some unguarded moments, I know that it’s close to winning. I can hear its hungry growls as it awaits my soul.
Not fearing death is one thing. Welcoming it is another entirely. Though I may not fear that valley...I’d rather die than be forced to travel through it again.
The world without Vinny is quiet. There’s only the hiss and rattle of faulty plumbing to fill an otherwise endless silence. Sometimes I hear footsteps. Sometimes I swear I hear Vinny himself whispering into what remains of my ear.You think you can escape me so easily, Mi Bella? Think again.
I flinch when a very real sound breaks through the delirious fantasy: a door opening. A sliver of light escapes through the crack. Then the light to my cell itself is switched on, though it’s not really a cell. I’m in a bathroom. My body is lying lengthwise in a tub that catches all my blood and feeds it to a hungry drain. He gave me a towel to staunch the worst of it with, but I’m lying on it and staring out instead.
He’s shirtless. God, he’s tall, too. Taller than Vinny, even. Certainly bulkier. Muscle weighs his bones down. It’s the type of strength evil men love to employ to carry out their dirty work. Though I don’t think he works for the red-haired man.
His blue eyes cut across the room and find me watching him. The sight of me doesn’t affect him in the slightest. With a sigh, he sheds his boxers and stoops for the lid of the toilet. With one hand, he palms his cock, aiming surely as he relieves himself.
It’s something anicegirl wouldn’t watch. So I greedily stare. I always assumed that all masculine anatomy was one in the same, but his cock looks different from Vinny’s. The head is smooth, almost naked.Circumcised,a part of me suspects. It doesn’t draw my attention nearly as much as the rest of him, however. His skin is drawn taut against bulging muscle like copper hammered over stone. There are scars on his hips, a row of jagged, semi-straight lines that travel nearly to his knee. With one last tug, he wrestles himself back into his boxers. Then he shuffles over to the sink and begins washing his hands.
I wonder if he’ll be one of the men who will rape me like the girl in the video. That beautiful girl. She is Olga...and Amelia, and Violetta, and Sabina, and Lina, and Allessandra, and Tiffany, and Sarah.
She isDaniela.Just another soul for Vinny to use. Another stain on the bottom of his shoe. It won’t bother him in the slightest if I’m dead—or if my body is used and abused before the final bullet is driven into my skull.
My soul is all that matters to him, and it is already taintedblack and tattooed with his name. I’ll never erase the damage he’s done to me. It’s more permanent than the missing part of my ear or the pieces of me he’s marked black.
I am nothing but a shell. Yet some part of me just can’t help adding to my misery.
“Her name...” My throat is so dry that it aches. I’m dizzy. Blood loss paired with trauma has probably sent me into shock, but none of the physical ailments really matter. “The girl in the video.” It takes effort to get the words out, and the man barely looks up as he scrubs his hands clean in the sink. “Her name. What was her name?”
If Vinny has taught me anything, it’s that a name is a powerful weapon. I’ve avoided learning them out of self-preservation ever since he used the very first maid he’d appointed to me as a tool in my punishment. She will haunt me forever. They all will. Regardless, I still can’t resist adding one more ghost to the ones I already carry inside me. That girl with the haunting, green eyes can’t be forgotten. Vinny won’t own all of her soul; I’ll keep part of it.
