Rapture & Ruin (Rapture & Ruin 1)

I jerked back on instinct, and the movement caused the world to swirl around me. The horrible face wavered and twisted before my eyes. My heart leapt into my throat, blocking my ability to breathe. I gasped for air, and something hot and wet spilled down my cheeks.

A harsh, inhuman sound grated across my senses, like claws scraping down my spine. My hands shook in their bonds, and a sob wracked my body.

Suddenly, the terrible face was gone. My tormentor slid back into the shadows, melting into the darkness. “Do you understand what you’re dealing with now?” The words were strangely rough, as though forced through a mouthful of gravel. “Tell me about your father’s ties to the Bratva. I know he worked with them to destroy my family. You’re going to give me proof. I want details, names. I want every scrap of information in your pretty head. You will tell me. You’re not leaving here until you do.”

“I-I don’t… I w-won’t…” My protests wavered on little hitching breaths. I couldn’t find the air to tell him that I didn’t know what he was talking about, and that I wouldn’t simply say whatever insanity he wanted to hear.

I couldn’t conceal my fear anymore. Not when the burst of terror and swirl of drugs left my head spinning. This nightmare couldn’t be real. That monster couldn’t be real. Nothing he said made any sense, and despite my horror, something deep inside me knew that I couldn’t lie to appease him. I couldn’t betray my father like that, no matter how scared I was.

A low curse hissed from the shadows. “Breathe, Alexandra. I’m not going to hurt you.” Another curse, softer this time. “But I will keep you here until you talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I managed faintly. I closed my eyes to block out the spinning room. It barely helped.

A heavy sigh ghosted around me. His boots stomped against the concrete floor, retreating to the far corner of the basement. I squinted just in time for a flash of bright light to sear my vision. I recognized the sound of a fridge closing as I squeezed my eyes shut tight.

His footsteps approached me, and I shrank back into the unyielding chair. When his body heat kissed my chilled skin, I peeked up at him, dread a lead weight in my stomach. I didn’t want to look into the monster’s face again, but instinct urged me to keep my eyes on the threat.

Mercifully, he remained mostly cloaked in shadow, sparing me his terrible snarl. His hand was illuminated by the light above me as he extended a bottle of water toward my lips. “Here. You need to hydrate.”

I turned my face away, fearful of drinking anything he offered me. He’d already drugged me once.

Another sigh, roughened by an exasperated growl. “It’s just water. I want you to sober up. You’re useless to me like this.”

“Then you shouldn’t have drugged me.” The bitter words popped out before I could think better of antagonizing him.

Something had softened in him since I’d started weeping. The palpable menace that’d pulsed from his huge body ever since I’d woken up seemed to have dissipated. He was still towering over me, still cloaked in darkness, but the shadows concealing his beastly appearance now seemed merciful rather than frightening. He was granting me a reprieve from his terrifying snarl.

I’m not going to hurt you. His low promise played through my mind. He hadn’t hurt me so far. Even the binding around my wrists was smooth and silky, too soft to chafe my skin, no matter how much I twisted and pulled. Now, he was offering me water.

I suddenly became aware of the cotton-wool dryness in my mouth and the sandpaper itch behind my eyes. I couldn’t think clearly through the haze that still blanketed my mind. His words and actions didn’t make any sense to me, but I had a better chance of figuring my way out of this awful scenario if I could sober up.

I glanced sidelong at the water bottle, and my mouth went desert dry. My lips were chapped, and I couldn’t manage to moisten them with my tongue.

He released an annoyed grunt and withdrew the offered water. A soft sound of protest left my chest as I watched him take a sip. I could still barely see his features, but as he lowered the bottle, his free hand tangled in his curls, tugging his hair down over the terrible scar around his eye.

I am a monster out of your worst nightmares. Was that how he thought of himself? He was trying to scare me into giving him false testimony, but he hadn’t laid a hand on me. Did he think his disfigurement was disturbing enough to make me talk?

“Here.” He extended his hand again, offering the water. “Now you know it’s not drugged. Happy?”