Page 2 of Volatile

“Or?”

His fingers wrap around my wrist. The touch is the gentlest thing I’ve ever felt, and his voice is lower, deeper, with his attempt to convince me to live.

“Or you kill the part of you that’s made you feel like this and grow up to do the same to the people who did.”

Either way I’ll be a murderer.

Is it worse if it’s myself or someone else?

The Break

vitali

twenty-five years old

My t-shirt is sticking to my skin. The blood is already drying and my brain rattles as I try to force my way into consciousness. I can almost imagine I’m on a farm and the heavy breathing is some big beast rather than the dumbass who would get high with Valentin when they were teenagers.

I’ve been beaten since before I can remember, there’s nothing these fucks could do that’s new. I didn’t expect a warm welcome, but they could have at least been gracious kidnap hosts and not drugged me. My head is foggy, and I can’t make sense of where we are. The last time my eyes were open it was a basement but the Kadares have their own warehouses so this must be a different building. I’ll thank them when I piss on their graves and there’s no longer blood in my mouth.

When the voices die down, I peel my eyes open, and my limbs are heavier with the chains dragging them down. Weak cunts, they couldn’t fucking fight me one on one and had to chain me up. The chains wrap around my wrists, keeping them at my back and the excess is held against the wall with a hook.

But it’s my father’s voice in my head, the same shit he’d repeat on a continuous cycle when I clearly have more pressing things to think about, like getting out of this torture basement.

“Don’t be weak. Stand up.”

“I’m making you strong.”

“Don’t fucking cry.”

“You’re a little bitch.”

“Fight.”

The fuckers have put me on my knees, so I’ll have to deal with Len’s bullshit if he finds out. I’ve woken up chained in some little basement and he’s what I’m fucking worried about?

The chains rattle, getting Roel’s attention as I attempt to get my feet out from under me. His rage is misplaced, the dumb fuck, and my shoulders burn as I try to get myself free with his fists slicing into my cheek. The brass wrapped around his knuckles pushes against my bone and I bite down on my tongue.

Don’t fucking scream. I didn’t when Len would restrain me and force Vlad to beat the shit out of me, I won’t fucking do it now.

My jaw aches from how hard I’m clenching it, and the dickhead finally gives me enough space to be able to react. Spitting out the blood pooling in my mouth, I look up with one eye already swollen and the pain is settling in, making it harder to talk.

“Fuck. You.”

The small amount of space the chains allow between my body and the wall is obliterated as he cocks his leg back and his boot lands on my jaw.

Just fucking kill me already.

There’s not going to be a ransom paid for my life, it’ll be Vlad martyring himself to save me from death, but he’ll leave me in a life where Len has uncontrolled access. At least if I die, I get to fucking escape the cunt and his fucking wife. I’m close enough to the wall to reach the chain and I try to stand as the Albanian’s leader takes them for their little meeting.

They’ve left me with their robotic guard. I’ve seen the way Aron looks at my ex, how she looks at him. Any man in our world is ruled by his ego and I prod it, so he’ll react.

“All this because I fucked one of yours?” My hands shake, rattling the chains with fatigue and adrenaline mixing together, but I manage to get to my feet. “She wasn’t even a decent lay.”

My morals aren’t the same as other people’s, the code I have is reserved for my family. I’ll go against everything I believe in for them and sign my soul over to the devil himself in order to get away from Len.

But Aron doesn’t pick up a knife. Or a gun. He takes a drill and I plant my feet while trying to pull my arms free. It’s useless, the chains are embedded into the wall, and I can’t use my fists with the heavy weight keeping them at my back. The crazy fucker is going to do something irreversible, and I kick out to create distance. It doesn’t fucking work, as he grabs my shin in a bruising grip. Biting down on my teeth hard enough for them to turn to dust, I push away the consequences of what’s about to happen.

The drill whirrs and pain radiates through my entire body as he pushes it into my kneecap.It’s Len’s fucking voice in my head, again, and I turn into a kid, unable to stop the screams. My muscles tense and it makes it worse. The pain embedding itself further into every fiber of my body and sweat breaks out on my skin.

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