Page 123 of Paladin's Hell

Once I’ve put one of his long tees over my head, pulled it right down until it covers my backside, I take the tablets Rusty hands to me, swallowing them with a fresh bottle of water. Everything hurts. My head, limbs, my back. Overshadowing all that, though, is the fact I’m alive. Bravely I stare Hell in the eyes. “I’m going to be fine.”

The prez steps closer. “How did Taser get you to go with him, Jay?”

I scrunch my eyes shut, remembering my terror, swallowing hard. “He said Pal had come off his bike, was badly injured, probably dying, and was in the hospital.”

Pal swears loudly, his hand grasping mine and squeezing as though he knows I wouldn’t have been thinking clearly after hearing that. Raising my hand I touch the graze on his cheek.

“Yeah,” he starts sheepishly. “I may have landed dirty side up. But he didn’t know that, Jay. He lied.”

“That’s the final nail,” Hellfire murmurs.

“I, er, I want to see him.” I sound weak, but it’s a result of what I’ve been through.

“Nah, Doll. You don’t,” Paladin contradicts, softly stroking my cheek, treating me like porcelain. “Why the fuck would you want to do that?”

I narrow my eyes at Pal, then use them to plead with Hellfire. Trying to put more strength in my voice, I ask, “He got his taser with him?”

“We took it off him, Jay. You’ll never have to worry about him again, I promise.”

They misunderstand, seeing me as a frail young girl. I’m not. I’ve survived worse than Taser. This time, I’m in a position to get revenge. Gently moving Pal’s hand away, the ire comes through as my voice deepens. “Hellfire. I want to use his own taser on him. Let him know what it feels like.” I speak louder, “I want to watch him piss himself.” Pulling myself upright, I try to make them understand. “I need this, Hell. Please.”

“You know what?” starts a voice from the doorway. Looking around Pal I see Pyro. Raising his chin toward me he continues, “Had my doubts whether you were ol’ lady material.” He chuckles. “Don’t have any doubts left now. Give her this, Prez.”

Hellfire isn’t convinced. “No, Jay. You don’t want to see him like he is now. We’ve already had… words… with him.”

Beaten the shit out of himmore like. As long as he’s still breathing, I want payback of my own. “He left me to die, Hell. Alone. He nearly succeeded. I don’t know why, don’t understand it. Know you won’t tell me because it’s club business. But let me see him hurt for myself. Please. I need this.”

When I was just a young teenager, men hurt me. I had no control then, like I’d had none today when Taser kidnapped me. I want to make him pay for what he did. I’d like to lock him in a trunk and have him die in the sun. But if I can’t do that, I’ll make him hurt instead.

Pal’s looking at me strangely. Then he says over his shoulder, “Prez. Let her. She does need this. Give her some power for once.”

“If I could have hurt Blackie, I’d have done it.” A female voice sounds. Fuck. Is everyone coming into my room? “I wouldn’t have had regrets. He took something from me, I wasn’t there to make him pay.” Why’s Moira talking about the old president? I park that thought as I don’t understand it, just listen when she continues, “Taser took Jay’s freedom at the least. Put her in a nightmare situation. She could have died had you not found her in time.”

“Lucky for the tracker,” Hell says. “Taser wasn’t saying shit about her. Wouldn’t even admit he took her, just tried to put all the blame on Mace.” He thinks for a moment, then turns away from his wife and looks at Pal. “You know Jayden the best Pal. If you think this is right, I’ll go along with it. Just remember, he isn’t looking pretty.”

“I’m not looking my best either.” I run my finger around my cracked lips. My wrists are bleeding and bruised from where I fought against my ties. I’ve not looked in the mirror, but I’ve a lump on my head, and my eyes still feel swollen. “When I look at him, I hope it will be like seeing my reflection.”

“You look beautiful,” Pal breathes. He’s got blood in his hair too, and a graze on his cheek. He had come off his bike, though Taser hadn’t known it, that part was actually the truth. But that I’m here, alive, and he is too, makes me comprehend what he’s saying. Seeing each other again, is what matters the most. Our injuries will heal. While it will take time to move on from what’s happened, our fear of never seeing each other again, both of us are still here and have a future to look forward to.

The thought makes me want to put him out of his misery. “Yes,” I murmur, so low only he can hear.

“Yes?” He knows what I’m saying, that I’m answering the question he asked the night before last. What I didn’t expect were the tears that appear in his eyes. He hadn’t cried when he found me. Nor when he got me back here. But me agreeing to be his old lady?

“I thought you’d be pleased, not sad,” I tease him.

He places one hand over me, resting it on the bed so he can lean in to give me a kiss. Unfortunately, he’s got too close for Bitch’s comfort. She strikes out with a hiss. As he whips his hand away, I start laughing.

“Fuck knows what’s up with young people today.” Hellfire puts his arm around his wife while shaking his head. “Come on. If you’re up to it, come and do your worst to Taser now.”

I slide to the edge of the bed. Pal hands me my unicorn pyjama bottoms he’s picked up from the chair. I slip them over my legs, and discreetly, covered by his long tee, up over my butt. Sliding my feet into my bunny slippers I realise how ridiculous I must look. But what does one wear when about to face their kidnapper?

I get to my feet, wincing in pain. My legs are stiffening, my back and arms feel bruised as hell, and my head is still throbbing. But I don’t want to miss this chance. I have to do it now while the memories are fresh. Given time, I won’t forgive him, but my resolve to face him might weaken. I hadn’t lied. Something inside tells me I need to make him hurt. To take retribution for myself.

Hellfire catches my arm at the doorway, he stares right down into my eyes. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure. He hurt me, Hellfire.”

Hellfire leads the way. The steps down to the basement are dark, plain concrete. Nothing’s been embellished here. At the bottom, a door appears to be hanging off its hinges, and there, right in front of me, ropes around his wrists attaching his arms to a beam above, is the man who left me to die.

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