Fragile Truths (11 page)

“Niko!” Jesus shouted.

I gasped as I opened my eyes after a stagnant moment and found his coiled fist hovering above my face. His blood red face was full of his wrath but I wasn’t sure whether it was the boiling water that caused it or his anger. “You stupid cow,” he hissed in my face as his body straddled mine on the floor and I struggled beneath him.

The door opened and someone I couldn’t see stepped inside. Niko closed his eyes for a fraction then climbed off me and dragged me up by my hair. The tall dark haired guy glared at me, his eyes piercing mine as he looked at me with a deep loathing.

I gulped at the fury he was radiating and cursed myself inwardly once more for my stupidity. Why was I always so reckless? I’d always been the same and I knew one day it would become my downfall, the situation I was in then, verifying it.

He didn’t say anything to me, just turned to Niko and narrowed his eyes. “You have a problem keeping her in fucking line?”

He was angry and my stomach twisted with trepidation. I had a feeling I was going to pay for my attempted escape.

“Took me by surprise, that’s all.” Niko defended.

He snorted then turned his gaze back to me. His eyes roamed up and down my body and a cruel smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. “Strip her.”

I heard Niko sigh and I stared in confusion at the dark haired guy.

“Yard,” Jesus spoke up behind us all.

My brain crashed the memory of Yard into my head and I virtually slapped myself. He had been the guy dancing with Mag`s in the casino where I had met Niko a few years ago. I hadn’t liked him then and I definitely didn’t like him now.

Yard peered over my shoulder with a contemptuous glance at Jesus. “Well hello there Tate, I’d forgotten you had decided to bring yourself to the party.”

“Just leave her alone, Yard. It was my fault, I told her to do it.”

“What?” I choked out. “No.”

Yard rolled his eyes and returned to look at Niko. “Strip her,” he repeated sternly.

“Get off me,” I snapped as I struggled in Niko’s hold. He scowled at me as he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and tried to lift it over my head. “Keep still or you’ll make this worse.” He warned but I ignored him and hit out at him, my hands flaying wildly as he grew angrier and started to rip at my clothes instead of removing them.

I stiffened instantly when Yard wrapped a hand around my throat from behind. “I’m warning you bitch, enough of this shit.”

I conceded and closed my eyes in mortification as Niko succeeded in removing my clothing, leaving me stood completely naked. A shiver racked my body and I froze when I felt Yard’s hand slide down my chest and cup my breast firmly. “Now what do you say, Francesca?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered begrudgingly as I tried to control the sob that was trying to claw up my throat. I wouldn’t give him the bloody satisfaction of witnessing my tears.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded feverishly, my eyes still screwed tight as though it would stop all three men leering at me.

“You see, forgive me but I’m struggling to believe you. I think you ought to be made aware of how it works here.”

My eyes shot open when his fingers circled my throat again and I was pulled backwards, my feet stumbling under me in surprise. “I love how you’ve been referring to Tate over there as Jesus, gave me a proper chuckle, darlin’” he sneered in my ear as he suddenly stopped pulling me. “Let’s see how good you look as his mirror image.”

I was slung around so hard, the side of my face slammed against a column of wood and my breath launched from my lungs so fiercely I choked on it. “No!” I cried as he grabbed my wrists and started to secure them to some leather straps at each side of the horizontal wooden planks, the front of my body squashed harshly against the cross as my backside faced the room.  “Please,” I begged, too scared to care I was giving in. “I promise… I promise…”

“Too late.” He spat in my ear, his hot breath curdling the emptiness that was in my stomach.

“Ahh fuck, Yard!” Jesus, or rather Tate as I’d recently found out, shouted in a panicked tone causing me to frown. Why did he sound so panicked? It was me strung up naked not him… okay, maybe he was in the same position with nails through his hands but at least he wasn’t naked. “No, don’t. I’ll take it, just…”

The scream that launched itself from my lungs when the severe blow hit my back was as intense as the pain that shot through every single nerve ending on my skin.

“Yard!” Tate screamed as another stroke of the whip struck me. I could hear him bucking against his restraints as another scream ripped from me.

The pain was incredible, like nothing I had ever felt before. My skin was on fire as he lavished another whip across my already ravaged back.

“Please…” I sobbed out between yelps and bawls, my tears fluid and thick as they rained down my face as fast and heavy as Yard’s thrashes on me.

I was screaming and crying uncontrollably, trying to focus my brain on nothing as each strike took my breath and devastated my body with agony. Tate was shouting and screaming with each blow as I sagged limply against the structure holding me up and desperately tried to block everything out. My body was conflicting against the fatigue and the pain, its frenzied need to shut off trying to win but the agony overruling anything other than alertness and intense pain.

My fingernails were embedded in my palm and my jaw was clenched tightly, cracking my teeth under the pressure but his relentless punishment went on and on until exhaustion won and I passed out.

Tate

The sobs that racked her body, even in her unconsciousness lasted for hours and I watched each little rise and fall of her chest, feeling her agony as my own.

I screamed out again, more in frustration and devastation than anything else. The bastard had ripped her to shreds, her beautiful soft skin now hung loosely off her back as I watched the trickle of her sweet blood seep onto the white sheet covering the mattress underneath her.

They’d thrown her limp body back on the bed, tied her cuffs back on and fucked off, Yard laughing loudly as his hard dick strained against the crotch of his jeans.

Sick fuck!

Why the hell had I gone running into her apartment? If I had tempered my hot-headedness and held back, I could have been working on a plan to get her out by now.

Her tortured breaths were crippling me and I pulled in vain at the long nails holding me upright. I hissed at the searing pain but yanked harder, determination and fury giving me much needed strength to free myself. I grit my teeth, biting the neckline of my t-shirt as I gave an almighty pull and freed my right hand, a choked cry rumbling from the back of my throat.

Blood poured from the gaping hole as I pulled the nail out and focused on removing the replica from my other hand. I fell awkwardly to the ground, my feet still attached to the fucking cross as my hand came free and I cursed as I head-butted the floor.

I ripped my shirt from my back and tore at it with my teeth, pulling off long strips, creating make-shift bandages to wrap around my palms. Nausea at the pain hung heavy in my gut but I drove on, glimpsing at Frankie to give me all the vigour I needed as I pulled at the ropes binding my feet.

Blood rushed to my head, making the room swim and tilt so I stayed low and crawled across the floor to the bed, pushing off the edge of the mattress to pull myself up.

Her wounds were raw and angry and I stifled the need to scream again in anger, the last thing I needed right then was someone discovering my Houdini act.

My fingers hovered over her. I just wanted to scoop her fragile body up and hold her, take each part of her and soothe it, make everything better and easier. She was too delicate for this shit; she would never survive the Knight’s wrath.

She sobbed again, the sound choked and full of so much pain. “Ahh shit, Capella,” I whispered as I brushed the hair from her face gently. She frowned and murmured something illegible, her cheek squashed against the flat of the mattress as her back remained open and exposed to the stale air in the room.

Blowing out a heavy breath, I forced myself upright; my legs numb from being crucified for way too long and dragged my body into the bathroom.

Jesus Christ! I stared wide eyed around the room, knowing exactly why this place had such a sanitary bathroom but I pushed that sickening thought away and rummaged through the cupboards to find a container to stow some water. Finding nothing suitable, I took apart the small trolley holding some severe crisp white towels and filled one of the raised edge shelves with warm water, then grabbing a few of the towels I made my way back to Frankie.

She was still muttering feverishly in her oblivion, her little body twitching and jerking with her evident agony. My heart ached as I dipped one of the towels into the water and proceeded to dab at the lacerations on her back as gently as I could.

Her body shook with deep shudders as I worked, each one accompanied with a whimper or a sob that tore at my soul. I desperately wanted to close my eyes to the hell displayed on her perfect body but she needed me. I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to be what she needed but I also knew I had to rise above it.

I had always had a sick fascination with blood, the knowledge that without it a body was just a carcass, a void in a matrix of complicated channels and conduits that would die a little more with each drop spilled. Yet as I sat there, swabbing the mass of Frankie’s spilt life source, I grew even more mesmerized. As I soothed Frankie’s skin, her blood soothed me; its deep richness was warmth against the severity of the cold cotton sheets and the copper scent a welcome difference to the chemical odour of disinfectant and detergents cloaking the room.

“Jesus?” Frankie rasped.

“Ssshhh, go back to sleep.” She nuzzled into my hand as I placed my palm softly on her cheek and stroked my thumb across her cheekbone to comfort her.

“It hurts,” she whispered. “It hurts so much.”

“I know, babe.” What else was there to say? Her pain filled voice tore at my guts and right then I would have done anything to alleviate her suffering.

She turned her face until she was looking at me, her bloodshot eyes pleading with me for help and I swallowed harshly at the pain that tore through me. Her lips lifted and the small smile she managed broke my heart. “Thank you, that helps,” she said, referring to my care.

I nodded, my eyes fixed on hers as I continued to rinse the towel and repeat the careful cleansing. “By the way,” I narrowed my eyes teasingly. “My name is Tate.”

She smiled again, her stunning silver streaked eyes glinting mischievously. “Awww, don’t spoil my fun.”

I chuckled but cringed when she winced as I wiped over a particular sore area. “You know,” I whispered as I flicked my eyes up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. “You shouldn’t aggravate these guys, Frankie. They don’t play games; they fight wars - with big guns.”

She nodded but her eyes hardened. “And I don’t back down.”

“Then I hope you are prepared for things to get a whole lot worse, cos’ they will.”

She shrugged but I could see the fear in her face. “You don’t understand Jes…Tate. I’ve fought this war for nearly sixteen years and I won’t stop until the final bullet is fired.”

She swallowed loudly before her sad eyes reached mine again, “I need to ask you something.”

“Go on.” Surely she must have felt me tense but she didn’t let on.

“Gray… Did they?”

She choked out a sob when I sighed heavily, “I’m sorry.”

We both stilled when the door opened.
“Fuck!”
I muttered under my breath as Frankie and I froze in anticipation.

Niko stood in the doorway, his eyes hard and narrow as he witnessed my aid. His eyes flicked to mine and held me for a heartbeat before he lifted two bottles of water up then strode into the room and placed them on the small table sat against the back wall. He didn’t speak or look over again before he walked back out and the door lock clicked loudly in the silence.

My brow creased at his strange behaviour but I welcomed it as I went and snatched up the bottles, instantly holding one to Frankie’s dry lips. “Try and sip it, guzzling it will give you belly ache.” I told her but she greedily gulped at it, trickles of the clear liquid dribbling down her cheek and wetting the sheet in her horizontal position.

As I pulled it away she grabbed my hand and held firm, her eyes on mine as she begged me for more. I nodded, allowing her to have her fill as I relished in her touch, her hand soft over mine with her timid hold, her cool skin almost sizzling against the heat on mine.

“Thank you,” she said eventually with a lighter smile, her pink lips glistening with moisture. I nodded as I drank a quarter of mine; saving her the rest after she’d completely devoured hers.

I pulled the sheet up over her pale bare buttocks, giving her a slice of dignity as I rose from the bed. Her little hand shot out again as her fingers coiled around my wrist, “Stay with me.”

“I’ll just be over…” I pointed to a chair in the corner of the room but she shook her head vigorously.

“No please, stay with me, lay with me.”

I sighed, knowing if we were found together there would be even more trouble but I relented when her whole face pleaded with me. “Okay, budge up.”

She smiled and exhaled with relief then shuffled up to the edge of the bed, her front still plastered heavily to the mattress as I slid down beside her.

Her eyes secured on mine in the dim light of the room, the only brightness from the vague light through the large window to the corridor. We remained silent but gazed at each other, both of us using the other for security and comfort. Her eyes started to droop and I hesitantly lifted my hand to her hair and started to stroke down the length softly, “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

She smiled softly, her eyes even heavier as she watched me. She frowned slightly then tipped her head a little. “What?” I asked as I saw the confusion in her face.