Rebellion of a Kingdom by G.N. Wright
Chapter 42
ELLE
2 HOURS EARLIER.
There’s a ringing in my ears, or maybe it’s a buzzing, I’m not sure. Am I awake? I don’t know. I try to move, but all I feel is pain. That must mean I’m awake, right? Alive. I attempt to lift up my head, but it’s heavy. The pain sears into my brain and I cry out, but no sound comes from me, or at least I can’t hear any. My vision is blurring in and out as I try to force my eyes to stay open, focusing on one spot until it clears. I’m cold, painfully so, and something bites into my wrists. As I finally manage to clear my eyes, I wish I hadn’t. The room is strikingly familiar. I’ve been here before.
It’s disgustingly the same. From the dirty mattress, metallic smell, and cracked tiles. It’s dark, dingy, and the light is flashing on and off. I’m on the mattress, but I have been thrust up against the wall. I try to move but am immediately restricted. Of course, I’m tied up. I force a thick swallow down my dry throat, as my lips crack from the lack of water and screaming. I take a deep breath as I try to push past the pain and figure out how I got here.
I went for coffee with Jace and Mason. No. Wait. We lost Mason. We were being followed. I spoke to Marcus and then nothing but blackness. But I did speak to Marcus on the phone, right? He will come for me. Us? Fuck. Jace.
I whip my head around the room and the ache crashes into my entire body. I’m really fucking beat up. Flashes of blood and glass assault my mind, as memories of what happened flow through me. All of it pales in comparison though, when I spot Jace’s lifeless, bloodied body on the floor. No. Please. No. His whole body is turned away from me, but I can see his arms are tied above his head, locked into a bolt on the floor and his legs are the same. If they tied him up, he must be alive.
“Jace.” I croak out, but it’s barely above a whisper, so I clear my throat and try again, “Jace.” I can hear the panic in my voice as I breathe through the tears staining my cheeks.
An anguished grunt is followed by, “yeah, I’m here.” His voice is low, and his words panted out through a struggling breath, but I hear them. The relief I feel is unreal, he’s alive. He rolls onto his back with a hiss of pain, and I take in his injured form. Dried blood coats his face and arms and I can tell by the way his shirt clings to him that it’s also soaked through. That’s when I remember, the truck, it followed us, we thought we lost it, but then it came out of nowhere and crashed into us. His side of the car took the main part of the crash, and if I’m in pain, I know he must be. Fuck! How did a simple coffee run turn into this. It’s only then I remember Mason and a fresh wave of pain hits me. If the truck was not only able to follow us, but get to us too, that only means one thing. Mason is dead.
I can’t help the cry I let out, “Jace, I’m so sorry.” My voice wobbles with the tears clogging my throat.
“Don’t…” he starts, but I go on.
“I should have never brought you into this, this is all my fault.” Mason is dead and we are here. I did this. Me.
“We’re in this, together, right?” He grits through his pain, and I nod, even though I wish we weren’t. Tears continue to pour down my face and I can’t even wipe them away. This is it, how it started and how it’s going to end.
I shake my head at the words he has spoken to me once before, closing my eyes tight, like I can just make this all disappear, “I’m sorry it’s come to this, that we’re here.” He might not have been here before, but I have. I know exactly what kind of things happen in the Donovan’s trafficking compound. This is the one thing we won’t walk away from, not intact at least.
“Don’t give up on me yet, Queenie.” He pushes out, and the tender use of my nickname would make me smile, but not today. Today everything changes. Marcus promised he would stay with Cassie and it’s a pinky promise I never want him to break. He isn’t just going to lose me today though, but Jace too. Jace says don’t give up on him, but I can hear the pain and fear in his voice. He knows how fucked we are. I take a deep breath and force a smile, as I respond.
“Never, pretty boy.”
Loud footsteps approach, and for the first time, my eyes lock with Jace’s and we both take a deep breath, “I’m glad I met you Elle King, you gave me a new purpose, even if only for a little while.” He whispers, and my chest cracks open with the pain.
I shake my head, “no, don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Jace Conrad.” I push out through my tears.
“Not goodbye,” he smiles softly, “just a see you soon.”
I don’t get to respond before the door slams open and the Devil himself walks through. Greg Donovan steps inside the same way I imagine he steps into every room, with a smile on his face and death in his eyes. He’s wearing an immaculate gray suit, the kind you would hate to ruin, yet I bet he doesn’t think twice about it getting covered in blood.
The grin he gives me makes my stomach turn, “Ah, there she is. My beautiful bride to be.” He walks over to me and his hand strokes down the side of my face. I snap my head away in disgust, but all that does is make his smile wider.
Jace struggles against his own chains as he spits, “stay away from her.” But Greg doesn’t even spare him a glance. He just leans down, so his face is next to mine as he purrs, “you and I are going to have so much fun.”
I know this is the fight to the death, so my sharp tongue isn’t taking any prisoners, “unless it includes me stabbing you in the fucking throat, then we don’t have the same idea of fun.” I spit out at him.
He laughs wildly, not fazed by my words, “blood play is my favorite kind, princess.” His arm comes out again to caress my cheek and this time I don’t move away. I won’t give him the satisfaction again. The gleam in his eye shines at my defiance. His hand drops to my neck and keeps going down to my waist until he pushes it between my thighs.
“That was my favorite part, you know. It wasn't the feel of that tight, virgin cunt.” He cups me roughly, as he says it and I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood. “it was watching your blood spill down your stomach to cover my cock. Shall we spend our wedding night like that?”
Wedding night. This is all just a big fucking game to him. Getting off on something he thinks is his right. He claimed me that night, but I got away. Now, here I am again, but this time I’m ready to pay whatever price I need to, because he isn’t getting a fucking wife.
“I’m not marrying you, you sick fuck.” I pull forward on my chains until I can get in his space. Show no fear. Panic is what gets you killed. “Not unless you plan on dragging my decomposing corpse down the aisle. My daughter is safe and out of your reach and that's all that matters to me.” My words are bold and brave, which is the opposite to how I’m feeling, but I refuse to go down without a fight. I have to get Jace out of here, even if it’s the last thing I ever do.
He clicks his tongue at the mention of Cassie then moves over to Jace, “Oh, and what about your little friend here?” He brings his foot up and slams it into his ribs and Jace yells out in pain.
“Don’t you fucking touch him!” I scream, and Greg laughs viciously as he smashes my defiant resolve.
“Don’t worry, princess. I have other plans for him.” He bends down, brushing an escaped hair from Jace’s forehead. “He’s going to make me a lot of money with a face and body like his.” He stands up, brushing off invisible dust from his suit jacket and straightening his tie, “but before all of that, I brought you a gift, one to make you more...” He pauses, thinking about his phrasing, “open to my plans, shall we say.”
He has barely finished talking when two guards drag someone in the room. It’s a girl, she’s wearing nothing but a ripped shirt and her underwear, and when the guard rips the bag off her head, I almost choke on my sob in recognition.
“Taylor?” Jace’s voice is barely a whisper as her name slips past his lips. She tries to move her head in the direction of his voice, but Greg slides behind her and fists her hair to pull her back towards him. Her face is covered in bruises and slightly swollen, but it’s definitely her.
“My boys have already had quite the afternoon with her, haven’t they Miss Kennedy?” She doesn’t react to Greg’s words and I know from looking at her that she is high on something and the bile burns my insides as I try to cough it back.
“Taylor.” I whimper, “Taylor, look at me, please.” Her glossy gaze collides with mine, and I see confusion and fear dancing behind her eyes. Jace is still silently staring at her in horror, as I speak to her, “I’m so sorry, but it’s going to be okay, I promise.” She tries to nod, but winces at Greg's grip on her hair and I watch the tear slip down her cheek. She knows that I know how she feels. What we have now both been through.
“Not really in the position to be making those kinds of promises, are you wifey?” Greg laughs, and I take a deep breath through my nose, he knows he’s got me exactly where he wants me. My tears feel bitter against my face, yet I can’t keep them at bay. Jace didn’t want her involved in any of this, yet here she stands, broken and bleeding and it’s all my fault. Another innocent life caught up in my mess. Owen was on her, but I bet Max pulled everyone in when we were taken, leaving her with no one to have her back. Either that or he’s dead too. How many more deaths will be on my conscience?
I’d risk my own life, but I won’t risk Jace and Taylor’s. I close my eyes, forcing my emotions to shut down into nothing, and when I open them, I reply. “You’ve got my attention, you sick, twisted, psychotic fuck.”
He frowns down at the Elle King only my enemies see, “I don’t think I do. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy your fiery side, my little bride to be, but make no mistake, you will submit to me.”
“And if I don’t,” I ask pointlessly, and he grins that savage smile I hate so fucking much. I think about all the ways I want to hurt him. the way I’d mark his face with a different kind of smile, permanently. The way I’d carve his heart out of his chest and serve it to him. The way I’d douse him in gasoline and listen to his screams as I set him on fire. None of them provide enough pain and suffering for the kind of death he deserves.
“That’s what the incentive is for,” he replies, gesturing to Taylor and Jace. “Shall we begin?”
Before I can respond he stabs Taylor in the side.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jace fights against his chains, but Greg just laughs loudly, pulling the knife from her side and getting it ready to use again.
“Okay, okay! What do you want?” I yell at him, my eyes fixed on the blood pouring from Taylor’s wound as she whimpers in distress.
“You know what I want, princess.” He drags the knife down her arm, slicing it open.
“Okay, you win.” I scream, and he pauses, bringing up his empty hand to smear blood across Taylors’s face, as his arm comes around her.
“What was that? I can’t hear you over all the screaming.” He laughs again as Jace continues to yell threats at him.
“You win okay, I'll marry you, just stop. Let Taylor go and free Jace and I'll marry you.” I rush my words out as panic attempts to assault me. She isn’t bleeding that much, so he probably hasn’t hit anything vital, she just needs to get to a hospital. If I can just get them both out of here, then everything will be okay. It has to be.
Greg preens with satisfaction, “You got yourself a deal, Miss King, or should I say, Mrs. Donovan?” He hollers out in celebration, bringing the knife up into the air.
“Except for one thing.” The silver blade glints in the flashing light and then it happens so fast. His sadistic cheer, the grief-stricken scream, the vacant stare. I don’t realize what he’s done until he lets Taylor’s body drop to the floor next to Jace.
“My wife needs to learn her place.” He gleams, “do not defy me again.”
I don’t say anything, just stare at her lifeless body at his feet.
He slit her throat.