Present day
My heart sits somewhere in my throat, and my stomach is in knots. He remains above me, my hands restrained in one of his, and every part of him pressed against me.
“I don’t want to see it,” I lie, “I don’t want anything from you.”
“Oh, Snow,” he drops his head, running his nose up the side of my face, inhaling as he goes as if memorizing the scent of me, “You will want everything. It’s you and me, baby, it always has been. Do you really think I’ve been far from you the past three years? You think I haven’t watched and made sure you’re safe? I never left you, and I never will.”
“So, you stalked me, that’s what you’re saying.”
I feel him smile against my skin, right before he grazes his teeth down the edge of my jaw. Goosebumps chase over my skin, and warmth pools between my legs.
“Are you ready to come with me now?” He whispers, mouth moving down my throat. I swallow when I feel his tongue.
“If it gets you off me,” I breathe.
He chuckles, but unpeels himself away from me, and then offers a hand to help me stand. I refuse it and roll off, keeping my distance from him.
“Follow me,” he orders, grabbing a t-shirt hanging over the back of a chair. He pulls it on as he walks, me following at a safe distance behind. He stops at one of those doors with a security pad and presses his thumb to the sensor. The light flashes once before it turns green, and the door audibly unlocks. He guides me through.
The first thing that hits me is the smell.
Damp. Rotten.
Instantly, my heart picks up speed, memories of the time spent with the Syndicate flashing in my mind. The walls damp and mold growing in the corners, the blood stains on the floor and the smell of piss and sweat, they all flood my senses making my skin suddenly ice cold. I press back against the door, finding it locked and no matter how much I ram on it, pushing on the handle, it doesn’t open.
The memories, they keep coming. One after the other, visions of the people who ‘visited’ me, the ones who touched softly and the others who were more brutal with the caresses. Old wounds throb as I remember how I got each one, the broken fingers when I fought back the first time they touched me against my will when I was just fifteen, the burns on the backs of my thighs made by cigarettes when they forced me to feed them and serve them only to use me as an ashtray the whole time. I can remember every single thing they did. It haunts me, follows me like a shadow, never giving me peace.
The scream that rips from my throat is one filled with terror, it’s filled with pain. I can feel my legs giving out, my air being constricted. Hands touch me, restraining my thrashing arms.
“No!” I scream, “No, don’t touch me! Let me go!”
“Isobel!” A deep, commanding voice yells. “Isobel, it’s me!”
I know that voice.
“No!” The claws of the memory are in deep, dragging me back to that place.
“Shh,” a hand smooths down the back of my hair, “Shh.” It feels like a comfort, but how many times had I been told shh, told to be quiet and take it. I push on a chest.
“Snow, listen to me,” the voice, that voice that had comforted me before, both awake and in my dreams, “You’re safe here. I’d never hurt you, and no one ever will again. I promise you that. I promise you the revenge you deserve. Do you hear me, Snow?”
He cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my bottom lip.
“I’ve got you. I will always have you, Isobel. No one is here. It’s just me.”
The tremors slow, the black fog inside my brain, the one plagued with nightmares, starts to recede.
“Hunter?”
“It’s me, Snow, do you hear me?”
I nod.
“That’s it,” he trails his fingers down my spine, grounding me and pulls me against his chest, “I understand. I understand your fear, and your pain. I want to take that away from you, Snow. No one will ever hurt you again, I mean that. I would sooner burn this whole fucking world down to ensure you were safe. I will give you what you need. I will never leave you.”
“Where are you taking me?” I whisper, unable to manage more.
“I have something to show you, but I can bring it out, though it’s easier if we go there.”
“How far?”
“Just down one flight and–” he flicks a switch next to me, “It’s always lit, okay? No shadows. No darkness.”
“Okay.”
When he takes my hand, I let him, I allow the comfort it brings just for now. I need it right now.
He takes it slow, but he was right, there isn’t a single inch of the space around us that was dark. It was as bad as it smelled, the walls sweating, droplets of water running down the roughened surfaces. There were no doors though, no screams.
It was only when we reached the very end of the hall that I heard and saw anything. He opens the door without a second thought and now all I smell is blood and piss. And those noises, those were whimpers from the four grown men chained to the wall.
They wear dirty clothes that hang off their frames, blood and other things I don’t want to name mark the fabric and their faces, a couple are bruised and swollen, others are just dirty and bloody. I meet the eyes of one of them.
“Do you recognize these men, Snow?” Hunter asks from behind. I hadn’t realized I’d taken a step forward.
I study each of their faces. I didn’t know their names, I never did, but their faces, yeah, those faces were ones I’d never forget. I remembered every single one.
The one on the end with the balding head had a thing for the younger ones, and only ever visited me until he deemed me too old for his depraved preferences. I curl my lip, sickness rolling through me. The one next to him, he was a cop. I begged him. I begged and he still hurt me, and then left me there.
“I do.” I admit.
“These are for you, just the start of a very long list of people who will be punished for what they did to you.”
“And to the others,” I add, “to all the girls.”
It wasn’t something I hid, I made sure I helped where I could when it came to victims of such rings and other horrific things. My friend, Wren, who lives in the US with her mafia king husband, she was helping too. She was taking down known rings for me and freeing those girls.
“You did this?” I ask, stepping closer.
“Yes,” Hunter answers, “There aren’t many left to go through anymore.”
My head whips around, “What?”
“I wanted to keep them all for you,” he cocks his head, studying me. There was something very primal in the move, something incredibly animalistic. “But I may have got a little carried away with most of them.”
“You’ve hunted them all down?”
“Nearly.”
“Why?”
“I promised you,” he says, “I promised to make them pay. That night when they hurt you, when they made me watch, I vowed to hunt every single one and so I have.”
“What are you doing with these ones?” I ask.
He steps up close and presses something into my hand, “You know I noticed how you always favored a blade, I thought this may be your preferred method, but I have other things you can use.”
“You want me to kill them?”
He shrugs, “You can, or you can leave them here to rot. I don’t care. They’re yours to do with as you please.”
“Please,” one of them croaks behind me, “please, I have a family.”
Hunter sighs impatiently.
I whip around to him, “So did I!”
My feet thud on the hard, cold floor as I storm towards the one who spoke, “I had a family and a life before you took it.”
“I didn’t!”
“You may not have orchestrated it, but you are as much to blame as the rest of them. You used your greed and disgusting, perverted need, drive you to my cell. You raped me. Where was your compassion when I begged you to stop!?”
“I’m sorry!” He cries.
“I don’t forgive you.” I raise the blade, lining it up to his throat. My heart pounds in anticipation of this slither of revenge but then I stop myself.
“Leave them here,” I say to Hunter, “Let them rot. Let them experience just a little bit of what I had to for six fucking years.”
“As you wish.” Hunter smiles cruelly. “You can change your mind at any point.”
I nod once and turn my back to the prisoners, “Take me back upstairs. I never want to see them again.”