Blacklisted (6 page)

I idly watched the news, trying to ignore the muffled screaming I heard from the next room. An hour passed before the door opened slowly, Michael walking in.

"Brie." He said, his voice twisting into a painful expression. "I'm so sorry."

I flung myself off the bed and ran to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He hugged me to him tightly, his sleeves caked in dry blood.

"C-can we go back to your place, please?" I asked quietly, tears slipping down my face as the weight of today finally caught up with me. He nodded and reached down, scooping me into his arms. As we exited the room I looked around, expecting to see the body.

"It's in the kitchen. After I take you home I have to come back here. I have to make this look like a business arrangement gone wrong." His voice was stern, and grim. I nodded slowly, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Once we got downstairs he tucked me into the passenger seat and closed the door, sleep finding me almost instantly.

I awoke to him carrying me into the bathroom, sitting me down on the sink. He leaned over and turned on the bath, checking the temperature. After he was satisfied, he turned back to me and began to peel off what was left of my clothes. His face twisted into an unreadable expression as my skin became exposed, small scratches and forming bruises becoming apparent.

"Oh, Brie," he choked out, his fingers sliding over my skin slowly. "What did he do to you?" he said quietly, tossing the last article of clothing to the ground. The bruises began at my thighs, small ones from his fingertips digging into me. They curved up to my stomach, my breast, then my shoulders and arms.

"He didn't rape me; if that's what you're asking," I said quietly, my voice hard. Thankfully, it hadn't gotten that far. But what had happened I wouldn't forget easily. I didn't know how to get past these last few weeks, or why I had so willingly put myself in the line of fire. I should have never agreed to help him. But he couldn't have known it would result in this; neither of us could have.

"Brie, I'm so so sorry," he mumbled again, pulling me into his arms gently.

"It's okay. You couldn't have known he would do this," I whispered, trying to keep the tears at bay. At those words, Michael pulled back staring into my eyes.

"Brie… I…"

"You didn't know this would happen, right? Michael?" My voice raised, realization slowly setting in. Everything had been planned so meticulously; he had found me without me having to do anything. How had he found me…

"Gabriella, I told you I'd do whatever it takes…"

"YOU LET THIS HAPPEN TO ME? YOU KNEW HE WOULD TAKE ME AND YOU STOOD BY?"

"You said you wanted to help…" he mumbled, his voice becoming hoarse.

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS WHAT I MEANT, YOU SICK FUCK. HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN? I TRUSTED YOU. YOU TOLD ME TO FUCKING TRUST YOU," I screamed, my arms flailing as I attempted to hit any inch of him that I could. He grabbed my wrists and held them tightly, trying to hug me again.

"No. Don't fucking touch me. I'm going to clean up and you are going to take me home. I want you out of my life, for good," I spit out, my mind swirling as the reality came crashing into me over and over. He had let me get kidnapped, not knowing what Genovese would do to me. He had left me with him for a full day, just so that he could finish his stupid plan. He didn't care about me; he didn't care what happened to me.

"I bet your parents are turning in their graves at how disgusting a son they have," I growled, delighting momentarily in the pain that crossed his face. He let me go and turned on his heel, leaving the bathroom.

Once he was gone I slid into the bathtub and pulled my knees back into my chest, the tears rolling down my face instantly. As soon as I heard the main door close I let the sobbing commence. My body shook with the feelings that boiled over. I was scared, damaged, betrayed. I had finally started to believe in him; to believe in the possibility of us.

But how could I ever trust someone that would throw me to the wolves that way? I swallowed thickly as I remembered Genovese's touch. But he killed him, he came for you, the little voice in my mind argued. No, he was the one that put me there in the first place. Genovese wanted you already anyway, you would've ended up in that situation whether you met Michael or not. No, I could've gone home to my parents. And what if he found you there? What if your parents ended up like Michael's? My breath caught at the thought. I whimpered and buried my face in my knees.

I had nothing, now. I had no job, no money, and probably no apartment. I had no idea if I was completely safe from Genovese’s men as Michael had insisted I would be or if I had to consider that they might plan retaliation against me. And Michael… what could I possibly do about that? How could I ever trust him after this? I had somehow looked past the kidnapping, the stalking—all of the bullshit and now I find out that he KNEW Genovese would take me?

But you agreed to help; you knew there were consequences, the little voice tried to reason. But why didn't he warn me? You would've given it away, you can't act. I sighed and leaned back against the tub, unsure of what I was supposed to do with myself at this point.

By the time I heard the door open again I was dressed and waiting as patiently as possible on the couch. I didn't turn; I waited for him to come to me. I heard him shuffling about, as if hesitant to come near me, as if he could sense the emotions rolling off of me. Finally, he emerged from his office area and stood before me, his eyes lowered.

He was covered from the neck down in dried blood, dirt, and tattered material. After giving him a once over I stood up, eyeing him harshly, completely unfazed by our height difference.

"Brie, I…"he started, but was cut off by my fist flying at his face. He didn't move; he let my fist connect with his chin. It knocked him off his balance, causing him to step back a few feet, a hurt expression in his eyes.

"You son of a bitch. I trusted you, just like you told me to. I didn't put up a fight when you took those degrading pictures; I let you keep me down here. I shared myself with you," my voice broke for a moment, but I pushed forward. "I wanted to help you. I wanted to help you out of this situation, I wanted to see you turn back into what I think was your former self. But no. You-" I said, jabbing my finger into his chest roughly. "You let him take me. You let him beat me, and touch me..."

My words became quiet as a tear slipped down my face. I shook my head and willed the feeling away, letting anger consume me.

"You are no better than him. Do you understand that? You're just as vile, and terrible. You're a monster."

He stared at me a moment before dropping to his knees, pulling me against his body. Once his sobbing begun I sighed, staring down at him.

"Let go of me," I snapped, pushing at his body.

"Please. Let me explain, please don't just leave."

He sobbed harder, his arms clinging to my waist. I clenched my fist and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down but the more he cried the angrier I became. I pulled my leg up and shoved my knee into his throat, forcing him off of me.

"You've lost your right to touch me," I growled, moving away from him.

"Since we're in the middle of fucking nowhere, obviously I can't call a cab. And since you've kept me here for so damn long I'm sure I have no apartment to go back to. So you're going to give me your car keys, and I'm going to go to my parents."

He leaned back on his heels so that he could sit on the floor, his head angling up towards me.

"I already filled the tank for you—in case you wouldn't want to stay. There's a bag in there with a cell phone, a bank card, and fresh clothes—Genovese tossed your apartment a while ago, it's been locked up since then. I deposited $50,000 into the bank account—for your trouble, and help," he said quietly, though his eyes begged me to stay.

"Of course he tossed my apartment. So I have absolutely nothing at all. And excuse me, stay? Stay with you!? Are you crazy?" I rolled my eyes and looked around the room, spotting the keys on the desk.

"Thanks for the payment. I'll go get a car, and then you can figure out how you're going to pick your SUV up—without involving me. I'm sure you have some sort of tracking on it anyway. Good luck with everything," I said harshly before heading towards the keys. I stopped for a moment, remembering what he said about the passcode locks on the way out.

"How am I supposed to get out of here?"

"I disabled them, just up the elevator and the door at the top is open. But Brie, please just give me a chance to talk to you," he whimpered, his face contorted with words he didn't know how to say.

I shook my head before making my way out of the apartment for the last time. I followed his limited directions and made it outside. Once I was comfortable in the SUV, I let the tears fall. I realized that I had reached the point that I didn't know what I was crying for anymore. What had happened to me? Losing Michael? Losing myself? Maybe it didn’t matter.

And with that, I put the SUV into drive and pulled off—leaving Michael and the memories behind.

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