Laughing Eyes: Bittersweet Familia (3) (16 page)

Anna

Sitting on the edge of Nicolas’s bed, my shoulders slumped, defeat knocking my resolve. The man’s words of warning were consuming my thoughts. I was exhausted and the constant fear for my life had drained all energy.

Behind me the door opened and closed, my heart racing again with dreaded anticipation. The bed dipped with the sudden weight, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders, gently massaging.

“What did he say to you?” My body stiffened at the question. Had he been listening? Impossible!

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, Anjo.” His hands gripped tighter, a subtle warning I couldn’t ignore. The last thing I wanted was to have him touch me. I was still hurting, the pain of him being inside me, taking control over of me was too much to bear.

“He said that you wouldn’t lose, that I should forget about beating you.” Immediately his hold lessened, but my shoulders couldn’t relax.

“What else?” His voice, a low growl sent that familiar shiver down my spine.

“That he had never seen you like this, that you’re obsessed.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes,” my single word came out in a terrified whisper.

In one swift motion, Nicolas was off the bed, his arms effortlessly scooping me up, pressing my body against his bare chest. His face, so close, was bearing down on me. He was truly frightening, a force I didn’t want to reckon with. In a few steps, he lowered me back to the mattress, laying me down as if I were spending the night. He watched for a good thirty seconds, his eyes raking the length of my body before moving in front of the large windows, arms folded lost in thought.

With his back to me, I watched him. His dark features even darker in the seemingly endless night.

The shadows caressed his muscles, his intimidating posture one ready for battle.

***

My mind was a black abyss, but I could feel. The sensation was something I had experienced before. A terrifying mix of tentative passion and deathly possession. Lips traveled down my cheek, trailing my neck and into the grooves of my collarbones.

I awoke with a start, determined to get away from the nightmare only to find it all too real. Nicolas was on top of me, his hands slowly pushing my nightie above my waist, his mouth now roaming my sex. Needing to escape, I found my hands tied above my head, him pinning me down, his mouth glistening, hands clenching every few moments. He looked at me and something truly frightening passed between us.

In that very moment, I feared for my life.

There was an unmistakable gleam in his eyes that told me I wouldn’t survive this.

My inaudible words of protest barely sounded after falling into a state of shock. I couldn’t determine how long I had been asleep, an hour or more, or even just a couple of minutes, I just didn’t know. Nicolas had stood at the window, an unmoving statue captured by the moonlight. For a long time, he didn’t move, his chest barely moving with each breath. My eyes had grown heavy, the trauma of the night taking its toll.

Running his tongue over my folds one last time, he moved away, now standing at the end of the bed. After a few seconds of watching my chest rise and fall heavily, wearing a strange mask of indifference, he took a seat on the arm chair facing me.

Not a word was spoken, his face falling into darkness.

What was happening?

Even if the whole room was illuminated, I still wouldn’t be able to decipher his look.

Tears slid down my temples as I pulled against the painful restraints. My heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest and my stomach gripped by nausea.

What felt like a lifetime passed. He made no movement, attempted no conversation. He just watched and waited, feeling the heat of his gaze never leaving mine. He was a predator, lying in wait.

The freezing air surrounding us caused the windows to frost, my skin crawling from both the cold and his touch.

I did everything to stay awake, too scared to even blink. The night seemed to drag, every minute taking a thousand times longer than it should. When I could feel sleep beckoning me, I shifted about as much as possible to stay alert. Each movement only pulled the ropes tighter, my fingers flexing to encourage blood flow.

It was all only temporary relief.

Micro sleeps were claiming me, drawing me deep into its dark world until my body no longer jolted awake.

***

Danny’s face was before me, a pleasurable state of ecstasy roaring through my body. It felt so real, so familiar. My senses were coming to life with his touch and I desperately wanted more, to feel whole with him again. He alone could scare my nightmares from the last twenty-fours away.

But that wasn’t the case.

As the seconds passed, his handsome face dissolved to nothing yet the feeling remained.

Semi-conscious I could feel my nightie sitting above my breasts, a tongue drawing circles on my bare stomach. It wasn’t that which lodged my heart to my throat. It was the two fingers rhythmically sliding inside me. Eyes now wide in alarm, I squeezed my legs closed in an attempt to push Nicolas away. His elbows, acting like a vice, squeezed between my thighs, opening me wider to his assault.

“Please, stop doing this!” I begged, tears of hurt and frustration once again flowing down my temples.

In that moment of sheer desperation and defeat, knowing I could do nothing to save myself, it dawned on me.

I knew what he was doing.

He was draining me of all energy, sucking all will to survive clean from my soul.

This was a game of his. To keep me on edge then wait until I once again became vulnerable.

Leaving and waiting, lulling me into a false sense of peace.

Casting me a single cold and indifferent glance, he lifted himself off the bed resuming his spot on the chair. Without a word, he hooked one ankle across his knee, his head resting on his hand.

My shaky breath was audible, my torment obvious to his ears. I could feel his piercing stare taunting me as I looked to one tiny part of the window frame gleaming in the moonlight. It would be my focal point in an otherwise dark room. My shining star that would keep me awake.

Trapped in a world not my own, my already tired mind was troubled knowing Nicolas’s sick desire would ultimately be my end.

The night was long, endless, consuming.

He was destroying me.

***

The next time I felt him, I didn’t even open my eyes. I couldn’t. All energy had been sucked from me long ago. Stopping him was impossible, begging him went unheard. I could feel his length moving inside me taking the very last thread of hope I possessed. His breath warmed my cheek, the occasional deep guttural sounds of pleasure assaulting my ears. Nicolas cared not for my tears, my whimpers only encouraging him to sink further into me. He was taking his time, every deep thrust as agonizing one. Burying my head into my outstretched arm, I bit my bottom lip to distract from the agony within.

Having none of it, his hand seized my jaw jerking my face to meet his.

“Open,” he instructed with a low growl.

Squeezing my eyes tighter, I refused to obey.

“Open!” he repeated, but I simply didn’t want to see him above me. I didn’t want the visual memory in my head.

As punishment, he smashed his pelvis against mine, his length igniting a fiery pain through my core. A sob mixed with a tortured scream erupted from my mouth, my tears seeping between his fingers and my cheeks.

Surrendering to Nicolas’s will, I opened my eyes, his thrusting now falling back into a rhythm with my compliance.

The hint of light from the moon flicked in his malevolent eyes.

Like me, he was trapped. While my world only existed of nothing but hurt, his world was made for moments like these. He relished within its confines, its impenetrable walls so carefully constructed.

He truly was a monster.

As he moved inside me, his lips met mine. It was such a delicate kiss. An act so in contrast to his intentions.

This time, his hand cupped my cheeks gently, his thumb working gentle circles. His words were poison “You look so much more beautiful broken!”

***

An eternity passed.

Nicolas consumed me. He took control of my body, stripping me of all dignity, banishing what little pride I had left. He revelled in it, each touch, every thrust, a painful reminder that he could do as he pleased. That he could destroy me, just like he had said he would.

When he had finally finished, his evidence running down my thighs, his hands moved the length of my extended arms before untying the restraints. I had lost all feeling in my upper body, my lower half screaming in agony.

Nicolas kissed the last tears from my weary, puffy eyes. How could his tenderness be so destructive? Every intimate gesture was just front lining his desire to ruin me.

“Do you know why I did that to you, Anjo?” His husky voice was velvety smooth.

“No,” I sounded weak, broken.

“You lied to me.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head vehemently denying the accusation. All this over a misunderstanding? How had I lied?

“Oh, but you did. I told you from the very start I have no tolerance for lying.”

“I didn’t, I promise you.”

“I asked you what my man had said.”

“And I told you!”

A small smirk played on his lips as everything the man had said to me on the stairs played over in my head. One line slammed into me like a boulder. Four measly words I didn’t repeat were used against me.

“Yes, Anjo.” He confirmed as if reading my thoughts.

He had spent the last how many hours toying with me because I didn’t tell him it was what I had heard.

He made me live out the exact punishment I had kept to myself.

Anna

The water streamed from the showerhead, the pressure relaxing my constantly tense body. I had woken from an hours sleep, greeted by the orange and pink glow of the sun as it rolled over the hills. Nicolas had left me not long after and returned with a towel granting me the freedom to tidy myself up.

Turning up the temperature, I allowed the heat to warm my chilled bones in this forever freezing house. I scrubbed my body raw, trying to erase the touch of a man who took at will.

Rinsing myself, the water was heaven as it massaged my face. That all changed in a split second. My skin prickled, a chill running down my spine, my breathing at a standstill. I could feel him.

Tanned arms circled my waist, a hand gently cupping my breast. I stared ahead at the textured tiles, watching the water droplets form rivers. I was too scared to move, too frightened to blink. He was fully dressed in the shower, his face unshaven, stubble against my cheek heightening my distress. To anyone watching it would have looked like a romantic gesture. To me, I knew better.

“You are putting me through hell,” he mouthed, tracing his lips down my neck. “You have made me feel …”

I didn’t want him to finish.

“You’ve made me feel like a person,” For a moment he sounded tormented by his own words. “I fucking hate it!” Fisting my hair, he wrenched my face up and twisted an arm behind my back. A strangled cry escaped my lips. “You will see just what fate your lover has made for you with his persistent fucking intrusion.”

The rapid stream of water was slamming me in the face. What had felt like a caress earlier now felt like I was being peppered with bullets. The hand on my breast squeezed hard, my nipple caught in a vice-like grip. Wincing against the pain, my hands wrapped around his offending arm in an attempt to free myself. It was futile.

I was confused. I hadn’t done or said anything so why was he becoming violent so suddenly again? Feeling stupid, I knew the answer. He didn’t need a reason. Nicolas Blanco was a tormenter, a murderer of the sickest degree. A man like him didn’t need an excuse.

“It’s a shame really,” he continued, his voice laced with venom. “His heroism will ultimately be his curse.”

The shower came to an abrupt stop and just as suddenly Nicholas stepped away from me. Looking down at my throbbing breast, I watched the deep purple slowly start to fade, the blood rush slipping away. Turning to face him my cheeks aflame with humiliation, his eyes raked the length of my body. His business like attire was now saturated, his dress shirt clinging to his muscles.

“You have thirty seconds to dry and dress.” Grabbing a towel from the rail, he threw it at me casting one last salacious look over my body. “Tick tock, Anjo.”

***

I slipped my nightie back over my head and towel dried my hair. His scent was still on the fine fabric making my skin feel immediately dirty again. Nicolas was in the room stripping his clothes off, his back to me, totally unconcerned that I was there. Drying himself he changed into a crisp set of clothes similar to the last.

Discarding the towel, a hand circled my upper arm pulling me through the door.

“You don’t want to be late do you?” His tone chilled me to the bone. He wasn’t revealing anything that was happening. I gathered it had something to do with Danny and I fought back the sob that threatened to destroy my resolve.

Downstairs had a handful of men dressed in full black carrying a range of Glocks and sniper guns. They went about their hurried business, barely noticing Nicolas and I.

The bald man appeared from the kitchen, a concerned expression masking his typically bland face.

“It’s a no go,” he said not elaborating on the point. Whatever he was referring to, Nicolas understood. He looked to me, his irritation clear.

“Are we set for everything else?” His eyes hadn’t left mine as he asked, full blame of the situation placed squarely on me.

“It is, and very soon,” was all bald man said in response. I didn’t understand their cryptic conversation. They were holding back from revealing the truth to me.

Nicolas’s grip tightened on my arm and when I flinched a slight smile pulled at his lips.

“Take her back up to the room,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” His man took my arm and led me back the way we came. From what had just transpired I gathered that not everything was running to Nicolas’s plan. It was a strange sense of hope I was willing to hold on to.

“I suggest you keep your head down,” he said quietly.

“What is happening?”

All that hope I built up was suddenly dashed. He looked at me, a glimmer of pity in his eyes.

“Just stay low. You will understand why.”

With that he left me, locking the door behind him.

***

I sat slumped on the ground next to the bed looking out into the distance at the freedom I craved. It was a beautiful day and the sun was already set high in the sky. It had been hours since I last heard anything. I didn’t quite know what I was expecting to happen or if it was in the process of happening.

My thoughts were soon interrupted, gunshots piercing the silence. They were loud and close and I knew then that I needed to heed the bald man’s warning and keep low. Flattening myself on the ground, I held my arms over my head. I listened for a long time to the sporadic sprays of machine guns and the yelling in both Spanish and English. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest it hurt. Somewhere in the house windows smashed one after another, this time followed by screams of agony.

The floor beneath me shook, an explosion causing a terrified scream of my own. I started to pray to whoever would listen that it would soon be over.

Two shiny shoes stopped before me, but I had nowhere to scurry to.

“Get up,” Nicolas’s voice instructed. Grabbing my hand he pulled me to my feet, a smear of blood running down his temple.

“What’s happening?”

“The moment we have all been waiting for.”

His hand snaked around my throat holding me close, his dead eyes frightening. A snarl twisted his face before his lips smashed on to mine. The force of it hurt, the taste of blood on my tongue, yet I could feel the desperation behind it.

The violence of the outside world was coming closer, the noise almost deafening. Forcing me onto the bed, Nicolas sat behind me, his hand still gripping my neck. He was waiting for something, someone. I was too petrified to move, the involuntary shake rippling through me.

I could feel his warm breath on my cheek as he inched closer.

“There is something about destroying you that gets me off.”