Confused (Getting Inside of V - Book 2) (7 page)

Chapter Nine

I inch my eyes open slowly and look around the all too light room. It feels way too early for me to be awake. Truthfully, I don’t even remember falling asleep. My body is deliciously aching from the heaven sent torture doled on me by Breccan the previous night. I attempt to stretch and realize I can’t fully move my arms. I lift my back high enough off the bed to look behind me and only then realize my wrists are tied to the bed. How I didn’t notice that immediately is beyond me.

“Breccan…come on…this isn’t funny!” I yell out, but he’s nowhere in sight. My mind starts to wander and tr
ies to fill the gaps of the events that took place between the amazing sex I had last night and passing out so suddenly. Getting real sleep is abnormal for a crazy bitch like me. Too many thoughts run rampant through my mind.

I hear the bathroom door creak open and Breccan walks out with only a towel slung haphazardly around his waist. His “v” lines were clearly defined and I wanted to run my tongue up the length of them. He gives me his sexy crooked smile and saunters over to where I lay trapped.

“How does it feel to be out of control?” he asks me quietly, contemplating my answer.

“I’m never out of control
, baby,” I respond. I glide my tongue across my plump lips and stare into his eyes. “Now untie me,” I demand. He only laughs and that grates on my nerves.

“You were a bad girl last night. I can’t untie you. I don’t trust you.” His eyes get cloudy and I’ve never seen that stormy shade in them before.

“What are you talking about? You were the rough one last night. I was a perfect angel.” I smile innocently.

“I’m pretty sure someone just keeled over and died at the mention of the words you and perfect angel in the same sentence
,” he retorts

“If you untie me…I can bring you straight to Heaven. I promise.”

“I can’t do that just yet… we really need to talk.” He suddenly gets serious. He looks around the room nervously, focusing on anything other than me.

“Stop fucking around
, Breccan. I’m serious now. Untie me!” I struggle against my restraints and try to twist and turn my hands out of the tight hold. He expertly tied knots with some type of cloth. It is definitely stronger than it looks. At this point, I’m seeing red. I don’t like to feel like a caged animal.

“Victoria…I said we need to talk, so cut the shit. And stop struggling…you’re going to hurt yourself.” I gasp loudly. My name…he just called me by my name…my real given name. My mind is reeling. Just how long has this motherfucker been following me? I haven’t went by that name in years!

“Who the fuck is Victoria?” I was partly serious. That girl died long ago. The innocent, all-too-trusting little girl.

“You know who she is…and she’s still there deep down.” He finally turns to face me now and I can see the shine of tears in his eyes.

I pull even harder at my restraints and finally loosen them enough to slide one of my hands out. I quickly untie my other hand and lunge out of the bed and as far away from him as possible. He does nothing to try and stop me. He stares at me like I’ve grown two heads.

“Breccan…you’re losing it. I’ve gotta go. I don’t know who she is, but it’s not me.” I rush around the room to gather my things and throw my clothes on. He still says nothing, but tears steadily come down his cheeks. I can’t take it anymore… I’m two seconds away from going batshit crazy again. It’ll make me feel better. I need to get it out and then I’ll be okay again. I can feel the urge creep up my chest and resonate near my cold, black heart.

“Go, Breccan…get out of here… leave me.” I try to warn him. I don’t know why. I don’t fucking know why. I want to end this, all of this caring bullshit. I don’t care. I don’t care about him. I don’t care about me. I hate this fucking life. I have nothing. I want nothing. He finally moves from the bed and starts slowly approaching me where I’m huddled in the corner of the room.

“I said get the fuck out of here
, Breccan!” I shout, but he’s still moving towards me. I make a move for my purse and he blocks me with his solid body. I look around him quickly and then glance toward the door to try and create a diversion. It works and he looks away. At the same moment, I dive behind him, sliding onto the ground and grasping my once again heavy purse in my shaking hands. I quickly unzip it and pull out my sanity. The gun trembles in my palms as I point it at him. He’s still staring towards the door. It’s almost as if he’s fearful to turn around. It’s moments like this that I normally laugh. I get high on this fear. But something feels wrong about it and I could puke up all of the remnants in my trembling stomach. I flip the safety off with ease. It still feels wrong. I put my finger on the trigger and try to will myself to push. But I can’t. Something in me just won’t allow it.

“I know where he is…” Breccan speaks quietly. He slowly turns to face me and puts his hands above his head. “Put the gun down and slide it towards me. I’ll tell you where he is, Victoria.” I rack my brain
… who could he possibly be referring to? Only one thing comes to mind, but that’s impossible. He notices I’m not completely convinced, as I’m still pointing the gun directly at his chest.

“I know what happened to you when you were in foster care
, Victoria. I know what that monster did to you. I killed him for you. I took care of it. I didn’t want to see the light go out of your eyes ever again like it did after he hurt you. I was just a boy then. I’m a man now. I can protect you… if you let me.” He was rambling at this point and I was beginning to think he was even crazier than I am. I soul search into his eyes…his green eyes. I’m taken back in a rush of memories. A small boy, no older than ten. Small in stature, weak and quiet. But those green eyes. I thought I’d never forget those green eyes. The ones that told me to run, the ones that saved me. But they didn’t save me from myself. How could they when I had all of that blame?

“It was you…”
I respond. He smiles half-heartedly, but I only frown. If this is him, the boy with the green eyes… then the monster…that monster that stole my innocence… he took it all away from me. I was good…I was surviving the loss of my parents. I relied on him like a father figure and he ruined me…he used me.

“But wait…you don’t have the same name now as that little boy! So are you lying now or were you lying then? Which is it, Michael?” My eardrums feel like they may burst from the loud noise I’m inflicting upon them. I remember his name, if nothing else. That little boy fucking saved me. At least from his sick father. He allowed me a chance to escape, I took it. I never looked back. A huge part of me thought my past would never catch up with me. But truth be told, it’s never really left. It hasn’t left my soul, my mind, or my heart. His father broke me before I had a chance to enter the real world. He used me. I was just a kid. I didn’t deserve that. But guess fucking what, that’s life, isn’t it? I narrow my eyes and look up at the boy, the one I want so badly to hate, but I can’t. Why the fuck can’t I?

“My name is Michael,” he begins, tears welling in his eyes, just enough for me to notice. “But I go by Breccan, which is my middle name. I don’t want to share the same name as that monster any longer. I want to create my own legacy.” His words touch me. I can sense his hurt. But I push his down deep, my own pain secreting from the pores of my now drenched skin.

“Why shouldn’t I shoot you right between your fucking eyes…
? You’re his son…you’re that piece of shit’s spawn!” I get angrier by the second. How dare this man think he’s going to save me? Sure he did it once, what good that did him. But he’s reminding me of it all now. I don’t need a fucking reminder! How dare he bring up the very thing I’ve been dying to forget.

“Because I killed him.” He looks hurt by my revelation. I can almost see love behind his eyes when he looks at me. How could anyone love a fucked up individual such as myself?

“Stop looking at me like that! You’re fucking sick, just like your father!” I scream. I want him to go away. I just want to end all this. I try to pull the trigger. I send the signals from my brain to my fingers and nothing happens.

“You know I’m nothing like him. You know how I feel about you. I would never hurt you, Victoria. I have always loved you. Love is an understatement to the way I crave your existence. You were the only thing bright in my dreary world. The day you left, the light died. I’ve been praying to get it back ever since. I know you’re not the same…that much is obvious. You’ve gotten hard, you’ve had to. I don’t hold it against you. So many times I’ve wanted to hate you. I’ve wanted to mourn the loss of someone so pure, but instead I celebrate the you that is still here. I want to get the light back.”

“Don’t celebrate me. I’m broken and I don’t want to fucking be fixed. I’m having fun. In fact, I’m having the time of my fucking life. Don’t mourn the loss of that pathetic, weak girl. She never would have survived the life of
big fuck you in the asses with something rough and sand-papery
like I have. I am better for it. I am the best version of myself.” Even I couldn’t muster up enough conviction to make these statements sound true. My confidence had flew out the window from the start of this conversation. A small part of me wanted to believe I could turn back the hands of time and go back to the way I used to be. The girl that never hurt anyone. If I really think about it, there were moments when I was happy then, too. But I couldn’t just forget and I would never be forgiven. My judgment day will come and I know I’ll burn when the trial takes place. I walk a step closer and aim the gun at Breccan’s heart.

“I’ll take your pain away, too. You shouldn’t want me… I
’m no good for you or anyone else.” Before I have a chance to do anything, he throws his hand up like a stop sign.

“Wait! Just hear me out…I know where Jaxon is.” My heart drops into my feet. How does he know his name?

“Jaxon is dead! Don’t you ever fucking bring up his name again!” I shout. Pain floods my entire being and tears begin to come down unceremoniously, soaking my face.

“He’s not dead, Victoria. I can take you to him. He’s alive! I promise you, he’s alive.” There’s no fucking way. He can’t be. He died along with my parents. There was a baby casket at the funeral. He was buried right next to them. The hospital told me his carseat came unlatched and he flew through the window. They told me all about the car accident in great detail, no holds barred. You’d think that would fuck up a child, but they didn’t care. I wasn’t going home with them at the end of the day. I shak
e my head furiously from left to right and humming loudly to myself. I can’t listen to him. He’s trying to get inside my head. He’s trying to detour what I have to do.

“Stop! It’s the truth! Jaxon is eight years old now,
he just had a birthday! He lives with a family in Michigan. I can take you to him. You have to trust me.” His words are eating their way into my brain. I want to believe him. I’m so fucking sick that I want to believe what he’s saying is true with every ounce of my being.

“And why in the hell should I believe you?” I snarl. Why I am even kind of considering this to be a reality is beyond me.

“Because you have no other choice but to believe me. I’m the only one that knows how to find him. I have all of the sealed records. So shoot me or don’t. We don’t have all day.” Pretty fucking confident for someone walking on the tight rope of life and death.

Chapter Ten

The Night Before the last: Breccan POV

She’s going to leave. She’s going to run far, fast, and never look back when I tell her the truth. I’m not sure how much she actually knows. Sometimes she looks at me with recognition on her face and other times she treats me like one of her regular unknown fuck buddies. Actually, I take that back, she doesn’t have fuck buddies. It generally only lasts one night. I know the truth and I know what she’s capable of. I know both sides of her, though, which is what gives me this damn problem. I love her. I’ve loved her since I first saw her stand up to my Father like I’d never been able to. I was unable to protect my mother from him and the other foster kids he abused. He never abused me. At least not in the same way he did her. He stole her innocence away. An already beaten down girl, that had nothing left in the world but unending trust. He fucking stole it. So I killed him.

I made it look like an accident and my
mother corroborated my story. The house caught fire when he was drunk, smoking, and fell asleep in his chair. We barely escaped by the skin of our teeth. It wasn’t unbelievable. Everyone knew all he did was drink. They knew nothing of the abuse, though. My mother hid her bruises. The foster kids thought they deserved it and never said anything. The only one that ever deserved any abuse was him. And I delivered.

I’m not a violent person. Maybe I am by nature, but I fight against it every single day. I try my damnedest to not even
be remotely close to my son of a bitch sperm donor. I shied away in the corner. I was there, but not really living. Just going through the motions and trying to make it long enough to escape for good. Then she came around and the light was suddenly back in my eyes. Her ever present calm always managed to mellow me. The rage teased and tempted to come out, but it didn’t. Not around her, never around her.