Delinquent: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 2

  Arron closes his eyes with a pained expression on his face and turns away. I have no idea what he’s about to say, but I can’t stop the way my stomach twists with unease.

  Arron’s head whips back around, and the ice blue eyes which perfectly mirror my own, lock onto my face. His mouth opens, and the one word confession hits me like a freight train; it damn near stops my heart beating in my fucking chest.

  “You.”

  Leeann

  I can’t believe Arron could be so fucking selfish and stupid. I’m struggling to wrap my head around how he could possibly bet me in a game of whatever he was playing. What kind of monster should I expect to come knocking, claiming me as their prize? A knot of unease sits heavily in my stomach, and I can’t help wondering what sort of people Arron is associating with to even accept such a ludicrous wager.

  I don’t know what is going to happen to me now, but the only conclusion I can come to is that I’m not going to sit here and wait for fate or some ruthless, immoral criminal to claim me. Fuck that. I’d sooner run than be a sitting duck, waiting to be blown out of the water by an unknown threat.

  “Arron, explain what the hell you mean when you say you bet me! How in the hell could you bet me? It makes no sense, and I don’t understand,” I bite out with unconcealed exasperation and anger in my voice.

  “I-I ran out of money. When they asked me to pay up, I didn’t know what else to do. You don’t fuck with these guys. It’s pay or die, Lee-Lee. I took a calculated risk, which didn’t pay off. In one last-ditch attempt to win and clear my debt, I bet either I would win, or they could have you. Fuck…knowing them they would have taken you anyway,” he says bitterly.

  My heart twists at his words and at how easily he pawned me off instead of quitting like he promised me he would. I’ve forgiven Arron for so many things. I’ve let his faults slide time and time again because he’s my brother, but no more. I see no way of ever being able to forgive him for this.

  “I’m leaving, Arron. I’m not fucking waiting around for whoever they are to come and get me. If they want me, then they’re going to have to fucking find me. Fuck, Arron, I can’t believe you did this to me,” I tell him, my throat clogging with emotion as I make my way over to the door. I don’t even want to look at him right now.

  I’ve barely closed my fingers around the handle when I feel Arron’s hand close around my upper arm. I wrench my arm away, attempting to free myself from his hold, but his grip just gets tighter. Grimacing at the bite of his fingers into my skin, I turn and lash out at him, landing another slap across his cheek.

  “Arron, let me go!” I demand, struggling to pry myself loose.

  “No. Do you have any idea what they’ll do to me if I don’t hand you over to them?” he hisses, grabbing my other arm.

  Arron pushes me up against the only doorway in the apartment that leads to freedom. I tilt my chin, meeting his angry and frustrated gaze with a fierce look of my own, but he doesn’t waver. Instead, he shakes his head and proceeds to drag me away from the front door, across the living room, and toward my bedroom. Not willing to let him take me so easily, I kick out at anything in reach, especially him as I thrash in his hold.

  I don’t want to meet the kind of people who would accept a person as payment in a fucking card game, and right now, I don’t give a shit what they’ll do to him when he doesn’t hand me over. Arron can go fuck himself if he thinks I’ll get him out of this colossal mess he’s thrown me into.

  “Arron, let me go! Get your fucking hands off me, you lousy piece of shit! I’m ashamed to be related to your lying ass! You said you’d quit! How could you do this to me? I’m your baby sister…you’re supposed to look after me, not sell me to the goddamned wolves!” I scream at him, my voice getting higher and more choked up with every word.

  Arron’s betrayal cuts deep as he ignores me and my futile attempts to fight against him. I hook my foot around the edge of the doorframe to my room in a final attempt to halt his progress, and he finally stops. Before I can react, though, he picks me up and throws me down on my bed where I land on the mattress with a thump and creak of bedsprings. I’m immediately on my feet, ready to hurtle across the room, but I’m too late. Arron has already exited the room and slammed the door shut behind him, blocking my only means of escape.

  “No!” I scream over the sound of something large being pushed up against the wooden doorframe on the other side.

  Mentally cursing the idiots who decided the internal doors in this apartment should open outward instead of inward, I try to push it open, but it won’t budge.

  “I’m sorry, Lee-Lee. I’m so fucking sorry, but this way we might both make it out alive.” Arron’s mournful apology reaches my ears.

  “Arron! Let me the hell out of here! Don’t do this!” I shout at the top of my lungs, banging my fists against the wooden door.

  Silence is the only answer he gives me, so I let my fury off its leash: I curse, shout, and plead until my voice is hoarse, and my fists are grazed and aching from pounding on the door. I’ll never be able to forgive him for doing this to me…to us.

  I go to the bedroom window and tugging at the old, rusted latch, I groan from the effort of trying to get it open. It doesn’t budge, and in all honesty, I wouldn’t like to climb out even if I could open it because we’re four floors up in this shitty apartment building. We have neighbors, but this building and the surrounding area aren’t the best. Everyone minds their own business, so screaming won’t help me. In other words, I’m fucked and have no way out of this except in the company of Arron’s ‘friends’…whoever they are.

  Leeann

  I’ve barely managed to drift off into a light sleep when I’m roughly awoken by a hand shaking my shoulder.

  “Fuck off, Arron. I don’t want to talk to you. You’re a conniving, two-faced bastard,” I grumble, slowly opening my eyes.

  My gaze lands on his face and terror rips through me at the unfamiliar features glaring down at me. I let out a scream and fling the covers off, scrambling to my feet on the opposite side of the bed to where a strange man is standing. He grabs my arm with a fierce grip, digging jagged nails into my skin when I attempt to dash past him. I let out a yelp of pain and fight against him, raking my fingernails down his face.

  Another hand grabs me by the hair, pulling my head back until it aches, and I find myself staring up into another unfamiliar face.

  “Let me go!” I scream, kicking behind me blindly and connecting with bone.

  A grunt escapes from one of them, and the man holding my arm loosens his grip. Wrenching my arm away, I twist my body toward the man currently fisting my hair, so I’m facing him. I wince from the pain of the roots being torn from my scalp, and I knee him in the junk. By the time he’s let go and is clutching his balls, I’m already halfway across the room, and he can do nothing to stop me. But before I can make good my escape, fingers wrap around my wrist, and I’m pulled backward by the other man present. I stumble and lose my footing, crashing to the floor in a heap. Unable to right myself, I’m now lying prone and pinned beneath him.

  “Arron!” I shriek, calling out for my brother in the hopes he’ll do something.

  “Shut up!” one of the men growls at me, and his rough, scratchy voice makes me cringe.

  “Arron!” I scream, louder this time.

  A sweaty hand clamps over my mouth, and I gag at the feel of it on my skin.

  I’m unable to do anything more than choke and whimper when he proceeds to cuff my wrists and ankles. I stare up at the ceiling and pray for a miracle to get me out of this. I’m hauled up onto my feet where I wobble on unsteady legs. Hesitantly, I move one of my feet and nearly fall on my face. I’m unable to walk with the restraints holding me in place.

  “Arron!” I try once more to rouse my brother into action.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” the man behind me barks.

  A hand slaps me across the side of my face, making my ears ring. I gasp at the sting of pain and pinch my e
yes together. Arron isn’t coming.

  “What have you done to my brother?” I snap.

  “Nothing. He let us in,” the rough voice rasps in my ear, and my heart thuds painfully at his words.

  My eyes flit over to the doorway, and I take in the shape of my brother standing there watching everything.

  “Payment is secure. We’ll be leaving now,” the man behind me tells Arron.

  The two men then grab me by the arms. I watch Arron’s face, and his impassive stare cuts deeper than the callous actions which led these men to our apartment and into my life.

  “How could you?” I ask as I’m dragged slowly past him and out of my bedroom, but he doesn’t answer.

  Arron doesn’t move to help me; he simply stands in place and allows these monsters to steal me from our home.

  “I tried to win, Lee-Lee, but my lucky streak ran out...big time. Just go with them. It’s better this way, trust me.” Arron’s faint reply drifts across the apartment.

  “I’d rather see you dead than have you do this to me. At least then I wouldn’t have the disappointment to take to my grave along with your memory,” I spit back at him, and a chuckle escapes from one of the men.

  The moment the front door is opened, I let out a piercing scream in the small, desperate hope that one of our neighbors will hear and intervene. Blinding agony sears through the front of my skull when my head is slammed into the wall…and then blackness.

  * * *

  I wake with a groan. My head is throbbing, and when I put my hand up to rub it, I wince as my fingers brush over a tender area.

  “Owwww,” I whine, blinking rapidly. Then looking around to distract myself from the pain, I realize I’m lying on what appears to be a basement floor.

  “She’s awake,” a female voice says, and I jerk my head in the direction it came from, instantly regretting the sharp movement when nausea threatens to empty my stomach.

  A woman approaches me, and I attempt to move away, scrambling upright and shuffling backward on my ass. I hit something hard and warm behind me, and when I look up to see what I’ve bumped into, recognition floods through me at the sight of one of the men who attacked me in my home.

  “Don’t fucking touch me!” I shout when he reaches for me, but he ignores me and grabs me roughly by the arm, pulling me to my feet. “You fucking bastard, let me go!”

  I kick out, but I’m unsteady and I overbalance. Falling to the ground, I pull him down with me. Now I’m trapped with his heavy body lying on top of mine, again. I feel him start to get hard the more I struggle and fight to dislodge him .

  “Get the fuck off me you twisted piece of shit!” I shout.

  “Mmm, might have to have a little fun first,” he sneers, grinding against me.

  Feeling sick, I lean forward and bite him on the shoulder, earning a yell in my ear and a smack around the side of the head when I refuse to let go.

  “Fucking bitch,” he growls.

  The blow to my head makes my vision blur, and my headache return full force. He gets to his feet, leaving me lying on the floor where I remain curled up into a ball with my eyes pinched tightly closed, clutching my pounding head. I can’t do anything more than whimper when my wrists are grabbed and bound together behind my back with what feels like duct tape, and the same is wrapped around my ankles.

  “Shouldn’t have taken the damn cuffs off the crazy whore,” he grumbles when he’s done.

  I’m so fucking helpless. I don’t know who these people are, and I have no idea how my brother managed to get mixed up with them. I can only hope that either he comes to his damn senses and gets me out of here, or they kill me quickly.

  Given my current predicament, it seems unlikely that I’ll get my wish. Arron is too much of a coward to face up to his mistakes, and if they were planning to kill me, I suspect they would’ve done it by now.

  Leeann

  The door opens, and I look up wearily, dreading to see the creep who comes down here daily to torment me; he makes my skin crawl. When he visits, he gives me a little food and water, he takes me to the bathroom, and then leaves me alone again, shrouded in the dim gloom of the basement. Walking over to me, my captor pulls off the tape covering my mouth. I let out a cry and suck my sore lips, using what little saliva I have to soothe the sting.

  It’s probably only been a few days since I was thrown down here, but it feels like I’ve been locked in this cold basement with hardly any food or water for weeks. My joints are screaming from the restraints holding me in place, my stomach is cramping, and my lips are cracked and bloody from the repeated removal and reapplication of tape to keep me silent. The first few times the tape was ripped from my mouth I tried to get help by screaming as loudly as I could, but each time I was unsuccessful and received a slap to the face for my efforts before the tape was reapplied.

  “Please,” I beg weakly, my lips throbbing painfully, “No more tape.”

  “Since you beg so nicely,” my captor leers, running his hand down my body to squeeze my ass.

  I cringe and try to move away, but I’m unable to stop him copping a feel. His touch lingers like a disgusting taste in my mouth.

  I still don’t know what they plan to do with me. However, I do know even my tormentor is concerned about the damage being caused to my mouth from the adhesive tape because he uses a strip of material to gag me instead. He ties it tightly around my head before he once again leaves me in the semi-darkness; at least it’s not the fucking tape any more, and my lips will finally have a chance to heal.

  Since I was snatched from my bed, I’ve continued to fight against them. I’ve spent every scrap of energy I have left trying desperately to get free. I’m feeling the effects of my captivity. But although they’ve weakened me, I’m far from broken by what they’ve done.

  * * *

  I wake up to stinking breath on my cheek, and on opening my eyes, I see the face of the bastard who has been my only visitor the whole time I’ve been trapped in this place. I freeze when I feel his hand move down my back. He pinches my ass, and I let out a muffled yelp, which gets stuck in my aching throat. I glare at him, but the sick glint in his eyes makes my breath catch in fear.

  I attempt to sit up, but my bound wrists and ankles restrict my movement, making it difficult to maneuver into an upright position. He tugs the gag from my mouth, and I lick my dry lips. When I catch sight of the way he’s looking at me, I shudder in revulsion

  It’s then I notice someone else is standing in the room, observing the whole exchange, and I narrow my eyes at the cold bitch who locked me down here in the first place.

  “Richard, I’m making the call. Get her ready,” she says, her eyes flashing with something that makes my stomach clench even tighter.

  “What do you want from me?” I shout at the woman.

  The woman answers, her voice is sugary and sickly sweet, “Leverage…and maybe a touch of entertainment. Your brother owes me, and I owe someone else. I have no wish to bloody my hands, but you are the bargaining chip that will save my skin just as you’ve saved your worthless brother’s.”

  When she mentions Arron, I flinch, and her lips turn up into a twisted smile at my reaction to his name.

  “I’m told he was so keen to hand you over that he didn’t even lift a finger to stop my men ripping you out of his life,” she continues, and I feel the ache burn in my heart at the memory.

  “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”

  She pulls out her phone and presses a few buttons before holding it to her ear. Then heading for the door, she speaks quietly into the receiver without sparing me another glance.

  “When I get out of this, I’m going to tear your fucking hair out and choke you with it!” I scream, flailing about while trying to rip the tape off my wrists.

  “Gag her,” she says before she turns the handle and leaves the room.

  The door shuts with a loud click, and I’m left alone with my tormentor who I now know is called Richard. Grasping at the smallest grain of strengt
h I have left, I attempt to jerk myself away from him but only succeed in sprawling on the floor and grazing my cheek.

  “Get away from me, you creep,” I spit, but he ignores me.

  He grabs me, pulling me upright by my arms. My shoulder joints scream in protest at the rough handling and the angle they are being forced into as he leans me against the wall. A few tears finally escape when he approaches and once again mutes me with another strip of cloth.

  Seth

  I don’t normally ride my motorbike to this type of job. It’s not only hard to conceal weapons when riding, but it’s also a pain in the fucking ass being forced to use a backpack to carry anything with me. This job is a little different to the usual ones, however, so it wasn’t necessary to bring my car.

  Now I’ve had time to look over the details and work out how I’m going to handle this assignment, the next step is executing it. Caryn Leslie manages a nightclub, and she owes money to Arthur. I’m here to collect because payment is overdue.

  I need to find out why she hasn’t paid up before I extract it in whichever manner I choose. She’s usually prompt with her repayments, which is why I’m investigating first rather than seeing how many times I have to stab her before she bleeds out enough to cover her debts.

  To begin with, questioning gets me nothing but the standard spiel of bullshit about how she’ll pay it back and is still waiting on one of her idiot clients to clear his debt to her first.

  I haven’t got time for this, but she’s usually good for it, so for now, I’ll grant her a small slice of leniency and give her a week. Then I’ll be back, and I’ll either be collecting what she owes or all hell will be let loose. No rules…only carnage.

  * * *

  It’s been nearly a week since I was given my latest assignment from Arthur. My burn phone ringing at 3AM rouses me from a light sleep. I never sleep deeply, not since Mom was killed.