Corrupted (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

Three Years And One Week Earlier

May 4th 2011

I walk through the door of the flat I share with Lydia. Music is blaring and I can hear her singing along as she gets ready. She must be going out... again.  She’s been going out a lot with this guy from work recently. I’ve been seeing her less and less, but I’m happy for her if she’s finally found her one. I walk to her room and knock on the door.

“Lyd, it’s me can I come in?” I hear her turn the music down and put something in a drawer before the door opens. She is half dressed, almost ready to leave.

“Good day at work?” I walk into her room and plop down on her bed picking up her stuff and inspecting it as she finishes getting ready. I always do this. It used to annoy Lydia to no end how I’m always touching her things, but now she’s used to it. It’s a habit I’ve always had but she mostly ignores me.

“Same old, same old.”

“Any boys catch your eye yet?” Lydia always asks me this, like she thinks all of a sudden my answer would be different. It’s not like we have new staff employed daily at the small events planning company where I do administration work. I roll my eyes.

“Nah. They’
re all too immature. Or old.”

“Hasn’t Tom got his head out his arse yet?”

“Tom is just a friend, Lyd.” Fidgeting around I spot a book poking out from under her pillow. As I reach out to take a look Lydia’s voice startles me.

“Don’t touch that,” she snaps. “Get out, how dare you touch my things, its private
. GET OUT NOW!" Her eyes are filled with untamed rage leaving me speechless. I stand up and walk from her room, heading to my own in a state of shock. I’ve seen Lydia fly off the handle a few times before but never at me. I sit down on the edge of my bed wondering about her reaction to that book. It must be her diary because Lydia never minds me borrowing her books. After a few minutes there is a knock on my door, I look up as Lydia sits down next to me on my bed.

“I’m sorry, I overreacted.  It’s just, I dunno... it’s private. I’m sorry,” her fingers shift through my hair, stroking my dark strands. “Forgive me, Els?” She gives me her puppy dog eyes, all wide and innocent. I smile up at her showing her all is forgiven. After a brief hug she stands to leave.

“Shall I wait up for you?” I ask. A cheeky smile plays on her lips and she shakes her head no.

“Be careful ok, Love you”

“Always.” She kisses my head then exits my room.

I let out a sigh. Lydia has been acting erratic in the last few months. I don’t know what is going on with her but her behaviour has only been like this since she’s been seeing this mystery man. Maybe I need to ask to meet him.

I hear as the door closes behind her before I get up off the bed and head to the shower.

****

Three days later.

Walking home from work, I take out my mobile and dial Lydia but it goes straight to voicemail so I leave a message. “Hey Lyd, it’s me. I’m just on my way home, don’t cook. I’ll pick up chinese. Love you” I hang up and shove my phone in my pocket, making my way to our local fish and chip shop/Chinese.

I have some making up to do. The night of Lydia’s date didn’t go as planned
as she came back hurt and upset. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong,
just shut herself away in her room. We used to share everything with each other but I didn’t want to push her. I waited until last night to broach the subject.

Lydia flew off the handle telling me not to involve myself in her business
, smashing
her dinner plate before storming away. I’ve never felt guiltier in all my life. It was easy to see her pain. It was written all over her face as plain as day. She must have had a falling out with her date.

Forty minutes later, I arrive back at the flat
and the only light on is the one in Lydia's room. I dump all the food on the kitchen counter and call out her name. When I don’t get a response I head to her room. The door is ajar and when I push it open further she isn’t in there. I go to the door to the bathroom, which connects both our rooms with separate doors, and try the door. It’s locked so I knock.

“Lyds, are you in there?” No answer. I frown and turn to check to see if her things are here. She never leaves without her mobile. Everything is on her bed. Puzzled, I go back to the bathroom. “LYDIA,” I call out, banging on the door. Maybe she’s in the shower and can’t hear me. I press my ear against the door but don’t hear water running. An uneasy feeling settles in my gut.

“Lydia!” I shout, but there is still no reply. I bang on the door louder and I can feel myself becoming hysterical. I run to my room and try my door. When it swings open I let out a scream. There is blood, so much blood. I pull her into my arms, blood everywhere. Oh my God, what happened? I grab towels and press them to her, trying to stem the blood but I know it’s too late. My screaming tears through the silent flat. I’m frantic, I don’t know what to do. Why is there so much blood?

Coming to my senses I leave Lydia and grab my phone off my nightstand to call an ambulance. When they answer I’m screaming down the phone for help. I can hear the operator talking to me, asking me ques
tions but I don’t know what
happened. I just know, deep in my heart, that she is gone and the lightness that usually surrounds her is no longer there. Her motionless body is a dead weight as I hold her. Everything is moving in slow motion. I’m seeing everything, but nothing.

Lydia’s lips are blue, her hair is matted from the water and blood, and her naked body is covered in red. I pull her into my lap and wrap a towel around her. She looks so cold
and I want to keep her warm. I can feel my heart breaking with every second that passes. I am alone. Lydia was all I had left and now she’s gone too. I don’t know what to do.

I hear a pounding on the door but my wails drown out the sounds. I can’t make my legs move to answer it. I don’t want to leave her, I need to keep her warm. I hear a crash and then feel arms caging around me, lifting me away. I scream louder, my hoarse voice breaking as I cry for Lydia. I don’t want them to take her. I twist and turn
, trying to escape the body holding me away from my sister. I see a paramedic kneeling down and checking over her and I want to scream for him to not touch her, but I know he’s doing all he can. He lifts his head to look at me, his eyes filled with sadness.

“No, no, no, no. NO! She’s not dead. She’s not.” But I know she is. I can see it in his eyes, he is confirming what I already knew. My beautiful Lydia is dead. Gone. I’m alone.

My legs give way before the darkness takes over.

****

I wake hours later in the hospital. They keep telling me I’m in shock. My brain shut down to protect myself from the pain. Fat lot of good that did. Now I’ve woken filled with more pain than ever before. Why did this happen? It doesn’t make sense.

The next forty-eight hours pass
in a blur of policemen, counselors and hospital staff. Tom stopped by but I told him to leave, I didn’t want to see him again. After answering the same questions again and again I refuse to answer any more. They leave me alone now.

****

Returning to the flat after being released, I stand at the door unable to put the key in the lock. I slump to the floor, frozen, gasping to get air in my lungs. It takes me a while to compose myself. I don’t know if I can face being here. Here is the place where I lost the last of everything and everyone important in my life. The place that was once my home now feels silent and still. I need to find answers. The raging storm of emotions swirling within me won’t help.

Standing up I put the key in the lock. The click is deafening, like a bullet tearing from a gun on a battlefield. I feel as though my body is going in slow motion, everything looks the same, yet different, the flat feels cold. Dead. Lifeless.

I walk to the kitchen. It is exactly as I left it. The bag with the Chinese food is still on the counter, the smell making me gag. I move it to the trash, then open the window. I look around not sure what I’m supposed to do. I feel lost, trapped, caged in. It’s as if everything is happening to someone else and I’m on the outside looking in.

I walk to my room and freeze outside the door. I can’t make myself go in. I don’t want to see the nightmare that has become my life. I turn and head towards Lydia's room
. The light is still on. Nothing is out of place, everything is as it should be. Her sweater is thrown across her bed, shoes scatter the floor, her bag is sitting at the bottom of her bed untouched.

I sit down and pick up her sweater, feeling the softness, inhaling her scent. Her smell hits me and my body shakes as I start to sob uncontrollably. I can’t believe she is gone, that I will never see her again. I lay down and hold her sweater close to me as I cry myself to sleep.

****

May 10th 2011

The next morning when I wake, I am at a complete loss. I don’t know how to survive this
.
I don’t understand why she did this to me, to us. I just feel utter devastation sweeping through my body, holding me captive to the pain.

I slowly start to sit up when my hand brushes something under her pillow
. I reach for it and see it was the book Lydia had the other night, her diary. I pick it up debating whether or not to read it, knowing it might give me some answers, unwilling because I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear them. 

Just as I was about to put it down, a piece of paper falls from it. I bend down to retrieve it and
notice it’s a picture of a beautiful man. Probably the best looking man I have ever seen. This must be mystery man. I flip her diary open to the latest entry and my eyes cloud with tears as I look at Lydia’s handwriting.

May 7th 2011

I HATE MY LIFE!

How could he do this to me? How could he want someone else instead of me? And her of all people? I hate her. She doesn’t deserve him, he’s mine. If I can’t have him then I can’t be here. I can’t watch them be happy together, knowing he’s meant to be mine.

Fuck them. I don’t need either of them. They can live the rest of their lives together. I just hope they know this is all their fault. They ruined me.

I’ve given him my love and he just tossed it out like trash. Damon is all I wanted. The past six months have been the best.
He is beautiful, everything a man should be. Now he’s shown his true colours. He’s the Devil.

He made me love him
, told me he loved me too. It was all a game to him. Probably a game to her as well. He told me all the right things. Everything he told me drew me in deeper and deeper and now I’m lost. I can’t function without him. Can’t breathe or live without him. If I can’t have him then I don’t want to be here.

He has broken my heart
, torn it right from my chest and crushed it, crushing me in the process. He doesn’t want me. He told me I wasn’t who he wanted, that there was someone else. After everything I have done for him how could he do this to me? And her... disgusting! I HATE THEM BOTH!!!

But I love him so much, eve
rything I am is for him, but I’m not enough. I am not who he wants and I can’t live with that, I can’t sit and watch him with her, knowing it should be me making him happy.

I hope they’re happy
. They have destroyed me, taken my soul. Taken my love. Taken my body.

They’ve manipulated me, made me need him then took it away.

Fuck Them! 

I struggle to breathe as I read her words. I look at the picture in my hand and feel my heart harden. This man had destroyed my sister. Now I will do everything I can to destroy him, no matter what it takes. Damon Hunt will pay. He will pay for taking my sister away. I may only be eighteen but I have nothing left to lose.

CHAPTER FOUR

May 12th 2014

It’s been three days since my night with the Demon. Three days of refining my plans. I’ve been watching Damon Hunt for the last three years, I know his routine down to when he goes for a shit. I know everything I need to know.

But plans change. I thought he would have called by now
however I was wrong. I need to set the new plan in action but waiting on his call is trying my patience. I need to get his attention another way, get into his life another way. I won’t call him first. I need to make him see I won’t turn to him for help. I will deal with things alone. If he wants to help he has to offer. It will make him feel like he’s in control, like he’s my knight in shining armour.

Suddenly my phone rings and breaks my train of thought. I run to see if it’s Damon calling and to my luck it is. I don’t answer, just leave it to go to voicemail. Of course he doesn’t leave a message. Typical of him to expect me to call him back. I won’t. I quickly compose a text message to him.

Who is this?

Simple, yet effective. I know it will drive him crazy that I don’t know it’s him.

Demon – It’s your dream come true.

You must have the wrong number. Dreams don’t come true for me.

I smile as I hit send. Knowing his personality he won’t be able to resist the chance to pretend to be a hero.

Demon – Answer your phone. It’s Damon Hunt.

I don’t have time to reply before my phone is ringing in my hand. I wipe the smile from my face before accepting his call.

“Hello
?” I ask in a small voice, making me sound weak. If only he knew.

“Are you okay, Ella?”

“Yes.” I pause just long enough to pique his interest. I let out a sigh. “No... I don’t know. I will be.”

“What’s wrong, what’s happened?” he questions in a demanding voice. I let tears fill my eyes and voice before I reply. Those drama lessons really paid off.

“I…my house was burgled,” I rush out, letting the tears spill down my cheeks. “I…well, I’m a little freaked out to be here alone so I’m packing some clothes to go to a B&B.” My voice breaks before I fake a choked sob.

“Fuck!”

I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the damsel in distress routine. It’s all part of his game. Make them rely on you, make them need you. His games won’t work on me though.

“Stay there, I’m on my way.” He hangs up before I can protest, not that I planned to. Funny, I never told him my address but being who he is I knew he would have already found out. Triumph spreads through my veins like wildfire.

Game, set, go.

I quickly latch the door chain then set about packing a few things to validate my claims.

It takes only fifteen minutes before Damon is knocking down my door. I creep to the door and look through the peephole. He looks stressed, wild, and frantic. I tilt my head to the side to examine him. Why does he look so worried? As far as he’s concerned we’ve only officially met a few times.

“Ella, open
the goddamn door. It’s Damon,” he shouts as he continues pounding on the door. I quickly unhook the chain, unlock the door and unlatch the bolt lock. I pull the door open a crack making sure I look like a scared kitty. I keep my eyes downcast as he passes over the threshold and into my home. A wave of rage builds through me knowing this is another home of mine his presence has infected. I tamp down my anger to play my part.

The Demon’s arms band around me, pulling me to his hard, muscular chest as I cry. He mumbles soothing words into my hair as he gently sways us. I push him away and turn to go to my room and continue to pack. Damon follows behind me quickly.

“What happened? Were you here when it happened?”

“No. I was
out shopping. I came home and everything was a mess. I’m not even sure I know everything they’ve taken yet. I just want to get out of here,” I tell him in an emotionless voice.

“What have the police said?”

“I didn’t report it.”

“WHAT?” he roars. “What the fuck, Ella? Why the hell not?”

“Because they pretend they’re going to help but do nothing really. I just want to forget about it all. I just need to get out of here,” I add a whimper for extra measure. “It will just be local kids trying to make some quick cash. It happens all the time.” 

“When did it happen?” he questions.

“The day before yesterday.”

“What did they take?” he sounds calmer now.

“Nothing of too much importance that I know of but as I said, I’m not sure of everything they’ve taken yet, but I don’t feel safe here now. What If I’d have been home when they came in?” I finish on a whisper. A shudder rolls through me when I feel him close the gap between us. He takes the shudder as fear on my part and pulls me into an embrace.

His smell envelopes me, wrapping me in his fresh, masculine scent. He smells amazing. I breathe deep to take in his unique odour. What the fuck? He’s a Demon, how can I enjoy his smell? I push away from him disgusted at myself. This man killed my sister and I’m enjoying any part of him? How sick does that make me?

I quickly finish gathering a few more items before zipping my suitcase up and pulling it out of my room. Damon takes it from me and carries it down the stairs in front of me. I follow behind him, taking in his frame. Sure the man is a sex god, even I can see that. Every muscle in his body contracts as he moves, bulging in all the right places. I know he’s ripped, but the Demon’s mind takes away all that beauty. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, fooling everyone around him. Not me though, he will never fool me.

“You’ll come and stay with me until you can get something sorted.
Stay as long as you need, Ella,” Damon demands, no room for argument in his tone. I hide my smile. I knew he would do this. That’s his problem. He’s predictable. 

“No, I’m fine, Damon. Thanks for the offer but I don’t want to be a bother. I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re staying with me.” I let out a sigh of defeat.

“Ok.” I follow him out to his car, where he places my suitcase in the boot of his car, and opens the passenger door for me before climbing in behind the wheel.

“Don’t worry, Ella. Everything will be fine.” He pulls out of my drive and speeds back to his place. I remain silent the whole way. It takes a while before I realise that we are not heading to his Fuck Pad in Chelsea, instead we are heading to his home in Kenwood. It’s about a twenty minute drive outside of London and the houses in this area are amazing.

             
This is his home, not his fuck pad. I’ve been here many times when Damon wasn’t around but I let shock and awe show on my face as we pull up to a gated house, which could only be described as magnificent. Damon quickly presses the access code into the panel before the electric gates open, the car moves up the drive until we pull into a circular driveway.

The outside never fails to take my breath away. The framework on the windows, doors, and four-car garage are all made with dark wood, oak maybe? One huge window, which sits forward of the main structure, stretches from floor to roof in the centre of the house, showcasing the impressive staircase inside. Two porches sit either side of the stunning window feature, complete with brown roofs, matching the main roof of the house.

Climbing out of the car, Damon grabs my bag from the boot before taking my hand in his, pulling me into his home.