Krinos (Take Over Series) (5 page)

“Hi, Krinos. We’re going to take a little ride, and you’re going to be a good girl,” he says, sliding in next to me.

“Like fuck I am,” I spit, turn around and punch him in the jaw. The door next to me opens and someone hits me hard in my kidneys. It takes me a moment to turn around, and when I do, I see the guy from the strip joint.

“Fucking great,” I mutter. Just then, the car takes off with Paul driving; now I understand why he was shaking. Fucking bastard, I’ll stab him myself. Fucked-up drugo dude leans in and smells me; I push him away, and he laughs.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, bitch, you won’t know what hit you. Then I’m going to take that knife you stabbed Christian with, shove it up your cunt and fuck you with that.” I elbow him in the nose, and he screams. I try to reach over him to get to the door handle, and I’m stabbed in the leg with something sharp.

I turn around to look at Christian, and he is smiling victoriously. He leans in close to me while I’m trying not to scream from the pain and whispers in my ear. “You think you can do a man’s job? I won’t be taking orders from a woman, ever, bitch. This is a man’s business, no room for pussy; that’s only good for one thing.” Then he leans in and licks up my face. I try my hardest not to puke from disgust and look back down at my leg; the knife is still in there. I go to remove it, and he stops me, pushing it in further.

“Don’t touch it, bitch,” Christian tells me; the next thing I know, my head hurts.

I wake up with my head pounding. I can’t feel my arms, and I open my eyes to look around. I’m in another warehouse; it looks similar to the one we were just visiting. I look down and see I’m completely naked. I’m in an upright position with my hands tied to two poles on either side of me; my legs are separated and tied to the poles, as well. Now I see where I am. I look up at my wrist to see if I can try to free myself, but it’s useless. I hang there, awake, tired and sore, for at least a good twenty minutes till someone comes walking in.

“Rise and shine, sleeping bitch,” Christian greets me as he’s walking in, carrying my knife. He sees me looking and puts it in front of my face. “Oh, yes, I remember this,” he says, showing it to me. He smiles sickly at me then lightly traces the knife over my breast and down to my stomach. I feel sick and angry with this bastard; I look him in the eyes, and that seems to piss him off more. He expects me to cry, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.

He looks like he’s about to walk away when he suddenly turns around and stabs me in my stomach. I feel the pain almost immediately, and all I want to do is hunch over and cradle myself to the floor. I scream out when he removes the knife, and he smiles sweetly at me; I want to stab him again, the stupid bastard.

He walks out smiling and leaves me there, bleeding out.

Over the next day, I only see Christian. He comes in to see me then stabs part of my body. Sometimes, he doesn’t stab, though; he will slice. I scream at myself to not cry in front of him, but I’m getting weaker. As soon as he leaves, I feel tears leave my eyes.

It’s nighttime when he comes back in; he looks like he is high as a kite. He struts over to me, and he has nothing in his hands, which pleases me; it means I will not be stabbed today. He goes behind me and removes the ties around my wrists; I drop to the floor in a heap. He also removes the ties from my feet and then grabs hold of my hair, pulling me to a chair. “Sit,” he says, slurring his words. I can hardly move my body parts as it is, and I’m pretty sure I have lost too much blood; I’m light-headed and haven’t been fed or drank anything since I’ve been here. He grabs a zip tie, ties my hands to the back of the chair and walks around to stand in front of me.

He looks me up and down, leans in and grabs my breast hard. I watch as his mouth comes down on my nipple, and I try not to throw up, as I have nothing in my belly. He sees me cringe and bites my nipple so hard, all I can do is scream; he repeats the process on the other one until I have blood covering both of my breasts.

I don’t know how he can touch me; I am covered in blood and have urine on my legs from being tied up for so long. I watch as he stands and undoes his pants; now I know I am going to be sick. He brings out his already-erect penis and puts it near my face; the only thing I can do is throw up all over it. And for that, I see black again.

––––––––

I
wake up angry; I wake with the need to kill and to live. I’m still on the chair, naked, when I hear commotion. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I try using all my strength to get free. The zip ties are loose, and I manage to slip my hands out of them; I try to stand and fall to the floor in a heap. I look around for anything that could help me if someone comes in, and I can’t see anything. I crawl my way to the door when it comes flying open, just missing my face. I can’t see who it is, as my eyesight is shit, and I’m too weak to lift my head. I feel the life draining out of me when a set of hands pick me up and cradle me.

I wake to machines beeping all around me; I look to my left and notice I’m in a hospital. I don’t know how I got here, but I’m thankful that I am. I hear someone to the right of me, and I turn my head to see a blonde male model sitting in my room, asleep. I look him up and down and wonder why he is in my room; if he is one of my father’s goons, I have never seen him before, and I sure as hell would’ve noticed him.  I see him stir and open his eyes to look at me; I’m met with the most gorgeous, baby blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Eliza, how are you feeling?” As soon as he says my name, I know he isn’t with my father; no one calls me Eliza apart from my mother. Just as I’m about to answer him, my father comes in.  I’m so happy to see him, I smile brightly at him.

“Krinos, baby, you’re awake.” He comes over to me, kisses me on the cheek and grabs my hand; I realize then he is afraid to touch me. I’m guessing he knows the extent of my injuries, though I’m pretty sure whatever drugs I’m on now are stopping me from feeling them.

My father looks to Blue Eyes then back to me. “Detective, I would like some time alone with my daughter,” my father tells Blue Eyes. The man looks at me for longer than necessary before standing up and telling us he will be at the door.

“Krinos, I have never been more afraid in my life than that day. I thought the birth of you was tough, but that just proved me wrong. Krinos, I don’t want you in this life anymore. It was wrong of me to bring you in it, so I’m taking you out.” I look up at him in disbelief. I don’t want out; now I want in more than ever. I will slice and dice that motherfucker who did this to me, then I’ll send that out as a message.

“Sorry, Father, not happening; this is my life, and I choose what I want.” He looks at me like he wants to argue but leaves it alone.

“I died this morning; my heart literally stopped when I saw you,” he says to me, and I know he is more than likely referring to the way I looked. He kisses me on the cheek and walks out, telling me he will be back soon.

As soon as my father leaves, Detective Blue Eyes walks back in the door. He comes over, takes the seat he was occupying before, sits down and looks at me. He doesn’t speak straight away, just looks; it’s kind of making me nervous, which is something I hardly ever am.

“Eliza, I’m Detective Chase; but please, just call me Chase.” I nod at him, and he brings out a notepad.

“I have to ask you some questions; anything you can remember will be great,” he says, looking at me with those eyes. It makes me want to tell him the truth, though I know I won’t.

“Do you know who held you hostage?” I shake my head no, and he moves straight on to the next.

“What where you doing before you got taken?”

“I was meeting friends for lunch. Someone knocked me on the back of the head, and that’s all I remember.” He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me, and I don’t blame him.

He goes on asking me questions about times and dates, where I exactly was, and if I knew anyone who would want to hurt to me. I shake my head no at the question, and he gets up to leave.

“I know who you are, Krinos, and even though I don’t believe your story, I do truly hope you get better.” He walks over to me, leaves his card on my bed and walks to the door. Just as he reaches it, he stops and turns around. I can see he wants to say something else, though he chooses not to and walks out.

Not long after Chase leaves, a nurse comes into my room. She smiles sweetly at me and tells me she is here to change my dressings. She sits me up, and I have my first glance of my front area with the robe off; I want to ask her to cover me back up. I have stitches everywhere: my stomach, my legs and I also have some around my right breast. As she is cleaning my breast, she gives me a sympathetic look, and that pisses me off; I don’t need anyone’s sympathy or remorse. These scars will remind me every day what I must do to survive, and I will survive.

I lay in my hospital bed that night, planning my revenge; I plan to cut his penis off first. Then stab him in all his major organs and watch as he bleeds out at my feet. I may have said I haven’t wanted to kill someone, but this man will die by my hands. As for Druggy, I will inflict the same treatment on him, as well.

––––––––

I
spend two days in the hospital, and that whole time, I haven’t seen Stefanos once; I haven’t asked about him, either. Chase has come to visit me twice, though, seeing if he can receive any more info from me; he has had no luck. On the second day, he comes in with lunch for me. I smile at him, and we eat in silence.

“I know you’re getting discharged today, but please call me if you need me, Eliza,” he tells me, standing up to leave. I nod my head at him and watch as he leaves. He opens the door to go, and Stefanos is standing there—in a suit, I might add—looking mighty fine. I see Chase look from me then back to Stefanos, and he asks me a question while facing him.

“Do you need me to stay, Eliza?” he says to Stefanos though speaking to me. I watch as Stefanos’ eyes flick to me then back to the detective.

“Who the fuck are you?” Stefanos asks him, standing tall and pissed off.

“Detective Chase, and who might you be?”

“None of your fucking business now leave.” Chase looks back to me, and I nod my head to say it will be fine. He turns back to leave and barges through Stefanos on his way out.

“Princess, you ready to come home?” The cheek of him! Stupid, fucking arrogant bastard.

“Yes, but not with you, cocksucker.” I cross my hands over my chest and watch as he smirks at me.

“You know I love the dirty talk, but it is time to get you home.” He walks over, grabs my bag and throws my stuff in it, then pulls out a maxi dress for me and starts to undo my robe. I freeze when his hands are on my back and push him away. I may be comfortable seeing the scars now, but other people wouldn’t be, and I don’t want anyone to see them.

“I can dress myself. Leave,” I tell him, still holding my robe up. He steps back and looks at me. He wants to argue with me, I can see it in his eyes, but I don’t allow him and point toward the door. He gets the hint and walks out, slamming the door.

I get myself out of bed and drop my gown; I look in the mirror and see all the scars over my body. It makes me so mad to see them, to know someone took advantage of me in such a way and is still breathing.

Once I’m dressed and in my maxi dress, I walk out to see Stefanos leaning against the door, waiting for me. I slowly look up to meet his eyes and see them on me; I look away quickly and make my way to leave.

“Are you going to ignore me, Princess?” he asks when we are almost home. I look at him then turn my head back to the window.

I arrive home and make a beeline for the front door. Stefanos catches me around the waist, and one of his hands is on my stomach where my scar is. I elbow him in the ribs, and once he lets go, I take off.

Once I’m in my room, locked away from all things Stefanos, I lie down on my bed and breathe a sigh of relief. It feels good to be home, but I really need to get out and keep my mind occupied.

My father comes in once he knows I’m home and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. He looks up at me with sympathy, and I sit up so I can see him better and show him I’m fine.