Give this to the right man.
P.S. You’re still an asshole.
-Heath
He and I weren’t ones for exchanging lots of words, for explaining our feelings down to the bone. He would read between the lines and know what I’d done, and by the time he read the note, I’d already be dead.
And he wouldn’t retaliate…because he would understand that Catalina was still important to me.
And by extension, her brother.
I promised her I would never hurt him, and I would keep that promise.
I stepped through the double door entryway and entered his luxury home, seeing the older lady who halted when she saw me standing there, her eyes wide.
She looked terrified.
I winked. “Name’s Heath.”
Damien pushed me forward, shoving his palm right between my shoulder blades. “Move.”
I stumbled forward, my hands tied behind my back. “Where? This place is three floors.”
He stuffed his gun into the back of his jeans and grabbed me by the arm so he could escort me forward.
I didn’t say it, but I could get out of this if I wanted to. His men didn’t tie the rope tight enough. I could slip out of the restraints and bash his head into the wall.
But I didn’t.
For once in my life…I gave up.
He took me down the hallway until we reached a large wooden door. He opened it, revealing stairs that traveled deep underground. The lights were on, so I watched my step as I moved farther underground. When I reached the bottom, I took in the sight of the large basement, which was made of concrete and had stored belongings piled in the corner. There was a large cage against the opposite wall.
I turned to him, a grin on my face. “This is starting to look like a porno, Damien.”
He punched me in the face.
I staggered back, keeping my balance despite my wrists being restrained.
He opened the door and stared at me.
Now I understood he would torture me until he got tired of me. Only then would he kill me. It was disappointing because I’d hoped to have a clean death. But I still lived on the wild side, remained sarcastic, because I had nothing left to lose anymore. “It’s definitely not the Marriott…”
“You put my sister in a cage.” He shoved me inside and shut the door. “So, I’m going to do the same to you.”
Now that I was locked behind the metal bars, I loosened the rope and tossed it on the ground.
Damien’s eyes narrowed in surprise.
“Does that mean you’re going to let me go, too?” I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest. “I also brought her bagels, cream cheese… But she did attack me with a plunger. Funny story…”
Damien stared at me through the bars, not the least bit amused by my jokes. “I’m going to wipe that smile off your face very soon, asshole.”
I didn’t know how much time had passed. There were no windows down here, so I only had the fluorescent lights for illumination. I leaned against the wall and thought about the last time I’d looked her in the eye, the last time I’d held her.
She was repulsed by me.
That made this so much easier. When I saw nothing in her gaze, I lost all hope.
Gave up.
I’d expected to die young, but in a different way. I’d expected to be murdered by my enemies, wounded in a shootout, dead on the spot with only minutes to suffer. I never expected to be thrown into a cage like an animal.
And to put myself there.
The door opened, and Damien came down the stairs. He was just in his sweatpants without a shirt, like he expected to get dirty, expected my blood to splash everywhere. He approached the cage and stared down at me.
He hadn’t given me food or water.
I didn’t ask for any.
He pulled out his key and unlocked the door. It creaked as it came open.
I continued to sit against the wall, staring at him with no interest. “If you think beating me and torturing me will give you satisfaction, it won’t. I won’t make a sound, won’t beg for mercy. I’ll just wait until you finally give me the sweet release of death.”
“And if I don’t?”
I stared at him without blinking. “I can give it to myself, if it comes to it.”
Damien didn’t scream at me. He didn’t say anything at all. But the look on his face showed his rage, how the past still weighed heavily on his shoulders, how my relationship with his sister tore him up deep inside. The vein that ran down his forehead was fat and vibrating, and the red tint to his face showed how hard his heart was beating, how the blood was circulating everywhere. “Get your ass up.”
I held up my forefinger. “Say please.”
That was when he snapped and came at me, fists flying with powerful punches that seemed to come from fury, not muscle.