Chapter 85 Chapter 85
"I pulled the sheets over myself consciously, and he looked at me funnily, as if he had not already been down that road."
It wasn't about that, as it was about the fact that our relationship was based on so many things that made me question if it was love and whether we were entitled to sensitive parts of each other's bodies without consent.
"A knock sounded on the door, and I perked up, worried. Every time there was a knock on Damien's door, it was always followed by news of a new turn in the fight. There was never a moment of peace, not even a point where we could breathe a little.
I hadn't heard from Claudia in a long time. She was the reason I was in this mess to begin with, yet here I was, with my heart in my throat every time there was a knock on the door.
Damien walked to it briskly, unaffected by how he looked, and it made me frown. Was he really going to get the door half-naked?
A maid walked in, holding a tray of food, custard, pancakes, steak, and egg.
"Thank you," Damien said as she left. "You should get something to eat." He said, throwing on his shirt.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, frowning at his unofficial outfit.
"Well, this isn't over, and I still have to find out from Marcus what Alexander is really planning." He said and walked closer to the bed to grab his watch.
"Have you had something to eat?" I asked. He moved like a beast, like a god or something. No rest, no food, no sleep.
Almost as if he got his high from a raging war, and it made me wonder if anything else ever happened in this world. Parties, Christmas, birthdays -- birthdays. My birthday was coming up in a few days."
I heaved a sigh and reached for the tray of food. "You should eat something," I said when he didn't respond.
"Well, I already did. I had a cup of coffee and a burrito. I'm good." He hesitated, but leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"You saved my life. You're in this position because you were stubborn and did not wait for me to come to you, but your stubbornness saved me. So, I'll do everything I can to put an end to this stupid war."
He said to me before walking out. My stomach growled hungrily like a monster that had been starved of food for years. We hadn't had any real food to eat in the last seventy two hours. I ravished the meal as if my life depended on it, and perhaps it did.
When I was done, strength returned to my body, and I felt more alive than I had felt in weeks. I got up, realising I was wearing pajama pants and Damien's white shirt, I put on his house slippers and went downstairs.
I visited the underground prison where I knew he was interrogating Marcus, but what I met was not an interrogation; it was a torture chamber.
Damien held Marcus' head above a sink with a bag over his head, and Duke poured ice-cold water on his face. Ice cold because there was a freaking giant ice tray sitting on a table, dripping water at a fast rate into a bucket, and each time, Duke would go there and refill.
I gasped at Marcus' muffled screams and legs tossing up and down. Damien looked completely alien. His eyes had darkened, and the face on his was that of a man who had sold his soul to the devil.
He didn't stop to ask questions. As soon as they were done, he had his men strap Marcus up and put him into an airtight punching bag with the zip drawn up to the base. He grabbed a baton and punched, kicked, and hit and beat the bleeding shit out of the bag.
Marcus' muffled screams emanated from the bag, but barely made it through because his mouth was gagged. I watched his frame in the bag go limp as Damien continued to hit him.
Fear shivered through my body. I shouldn't have been witnessing that.
"Pull him out." His men unzipped the bag and let Marcus fall out with a thud. They placed him back on the chair, and Duke grabbed another bucketful of water and emptied it on him.
Marcus woke up with spluttering gasps as water sprayed out of his mouth, his nose, his hair. He looked terrified. Gasping and breathing as if he had just been called back from the dead.
"That's enough for now," Damien said. He bent down head level with Marcus, a smile printed on his face.
"Now, tell me, what the hell is Alexander plotting?" Damien asked, and I saw Marcus shudder. He was broken.
"I don't know. I swear I don't know. I really, really don't know." He cried, looking from Damien to Duke, terror reflected in every gaze.
"Please, please stop torturing me. I don't know. I really don't know. He just told me he was planning something big, and we were going to discuss it in due time, but he never told me anything for sure. He always spoke in codes.
Damien looked displeased, and so, he laid a sweet punch to his gut. Marcus groaned and crouched in pain, eyes shut as blood splattered from his lips.
"You did business with him for so long, planned my death and funeral. There has to be something that you know." Damien muttered.
"You're right. There is....fuck you!" Marcus yelled, laughing and coughing like a madman. "You are all the same, pieces of shit. Kill yourselves." He continued, and Damien resumed his punches, landing a blow to his face over and over until his face looked like mashed potatoes.
"We will go to hell, but you will get there first. Dust him dry." Damien said in a low tone, smiling at him. Duke and his men grabbed towels and began drying Marcus off. He looked around at them, afraid, struggling against his bonds.
"Let me go, let me go!" Marcus yelled as they continued. When they were done, Duke picked up a container of gasoline and emptied it on Marcus, while Damien got the match.
This time, Marcus' eyes were wide with panic. But just as Damien lit the match, the door flung open, and one of his men walked in.