56 Zombie blues

56 Surprice surprice

Date = 21 January

Place = San Francisco (Haunted house)

POV - Melaena

We’ve been here for hours now. The misty rain outside chills the already cold wind blowing through the tiny window a few more degrees. Covered in goosebumps I pull the thin blanket tighter and move closer to Luke, hoping to transfer more of my body heat over to him and vice versa. The movement wakes Kiara and her eyes flick open, catching mine over the little guy’s head.

We just silently stare at each other, drained loopy eyes looking but not seeing. I know exactly what she’s thinking, that she’s uncomfortable with everything, but she keeps quiet.

We’ve jigged up a plan A, and it needs to work, cause there is no plan B or C as backups. Kiara is not happy with it, and yes I know it’s risky at best, but it’s the only shot we have.

The tiny bean in my tummy seems to tap all my energy and I swear I’m too tired to even close my stiff eyes. I’ve cried out every single tear in my body, and used up a lifetime of mindless prayers, hoping that Damion and the boys will find us in time, and another one to protect my little blob and all of us until they do.

They came to take away my father, and by the excruciating burning screams that break the suffocating darkness every now and then, someone’s having a rough night. I just really hope that it’s not my brother.

The key turns in the lock again and Kiara’s pupils grow bigger, making her eyes seem demonically black. We don’t dare move, hopefully, the person will think we’re asleep and leave again, but no such luck. A hand grabs my arm and jerks me up hardhandedly, waking Luke.

“Hello, babe.” I blink a few times, thinking that maybe I fell asleep and this is just a dream, but the look on Kiara’s face tells me this is painfully real.

“Ren?” The word rolls ghostly from my lips when I eventually close my dropped jaw and manage some control over my vocal cords.

“It’s Darren, actually.” He walks over to the window and then turns back to look at me. Anger slowly starts to push the initial shock aside and bubbles up inside me.

“Fuck you, bastard!”

“Oh, you will soon. We’re just waiting for your irritating lover to arrive.” The glint shining in his eyes predicts that whatever he planned is not anything even relatedly good — it’s bad.

“You’re sick!” The disgust on Kiara’s face is enough to send more than one demon to its death, but it’s not even a fraction of what I’m feeling toward my ex right now.

“I tried to win your heart the normal way, but you just had eyes for that piece of shit. Now he’s going to suffer for breaking the number one rule — trying to take what’s mine.”

“You can’t blame the girl, he’s hot.” A familiar woman’s voice comes through the open door and then the owner of the voice walks in with a huge smile, holding her hands behind her back. Kiara is back to being a frozen statue with a heavily dropped chin.

Then her lips move forming the name.

“Lucinda?” This time ‘surprised’ doesn’t even begin to describe what I am right now. Maybe combine super-surprised with fucking-flabbergasted to get superfuckingly-flabberprised!

“Hi, girls.” She leans her hip against an old broken dresser standing against the wall while her finger pulls a line through the layer of dust as if she’s majorly bored.

“Enjoying the accommodation? See, this was MY room … long ago. That was before your family fucked up our lives.”

“My grandfather did … not us.” I don’t know why I even try. You can’t deter a crazy person. She grunts out in disgust.

“Your brothers are no innocent little victims. What Enrique did to me …” she spits, “He will pay for every minute of pain and rejection I experienced.” I still don’t believe the rape story. Enrique will not do that. She looks from me to her brother. “And Jackson … he beat up my brother and threw him into a pit. Left him in there for hours.” Okay, this I believe. Jackson will do that.

“You can chat with your little friends later, sister, I need to get things ready.” Ren … or Darren glares at me with lustful eyes, but I give him a smile that would freeze an active volcano instantly.

“I’ve been waiting for this a long time.” His hand cups his junk and he shakes it suggestively while my smile grows even colder. Just thinking of him penetrating me pushes up the piece of pizza and I cover my mouth with my palm and swallow hard.

‘Sniff pixie dust and soar!’

The chant runs through my head — Damion’s … or his sister’s Peter Pan shit, that for some reason, always comes to mind when I’m in some kind of trouble. The last words his sister said in this very house.

Okay, shock is over, now we need to get our plan in motion before it’s too late.

“Leave her alone!” Luke jumps up and stands on the bed like a little superhero with his hands on his hips, chest pushed out, and chin up. Ship, what does Haley feed these Grimm boys? They sure move fast, and they like staring death in the eye.

But before I can even try to pull him down, Lucinda swings her arm and slabs Luke from the bed, and he lands with a THUD and a groan on the floor.

“Take him and tie him up with the old guy,” Ren orders. The big bold brute strolls into the room and carries him off over his shoulder. Luke kicks and screams and wiggles — but to no avail. And there goes half our plan with him down the hall.

“Let him go!” I shout, fearful about what might happen to him.

Darren pulls me unwillingly towards the door, while Kiara jolts up, grabs my arm, and tries to hold me back. A silent conversation happens between our eyes and she lets go.

Plan A just shriveled up and died — Luke was supposed to get out and run like the wind to the nearest public place — which would be Paws and Claws — to get help. Kiara would have used the distraction to free Jackson … who would then free me.

But now things have changed. Kiara needs to run. Even though her eyes tell me she’s just as scared as me, she also knows it has to be done — it’s the only way. It’s just that Kiara is not a good runner.

The fucking Lucinda bitch laughs hard, her lips rolling over like a fucked-up horny orangutan. Sorry to all the apes for lowering them to that disgusting level and sorry for swearing like a pirate captain, but under given circumstances, I’m sure I’ll be forgiven.

Darren is holding onto my left arm, the bashed-up one, and the pain only inflates the balloon of anger until it pops and all I see is red — blood red. My right arm flings out and a fist strikes Lucinda solidly with an uppercut on her jaw, throwing her off-balance, and she lands against the dresser behind her. Who knew growing up with four wild brothers would one day come in handy?

“Bitch!” she yells her eyes flickering with surprise that turns into anger. Hell, that look alone is worth the painful knuckles, that’s for sure.

“It’s a hard job, but somebody has to do it!” I can hardly stop now — I have to keep up the bravado. I push my body into Darren to open a path to the door. Kiara sprints through the opening down the hallway before Darren or Lucinda can do anything.

Run my friend. Run. The best you can.

Lucinda turns to face me with a scolding hate-filled face. Her pathetic attempt to slap me fails horribly when I catch her wrist and turn it until she winches in pain.

“Don’t bark if you can’t bite, shrew.” Where is all this coming from? I’m actually scared shitless that they’ll do something to me — to my baby.

The plan now is for Kiara to escape and get help. And hopefully, the distraction will give Jackson an opportunity to do something drastic and throw a curve ball in the works.

Yeah, not the best plan, but it’s all we have.

“Fuck, if this is not turning me on!” Darren growls out a deep laugh, his fingers tightening more painfully around my arm as he drags me out of the room not waiting for his angry sister to follow.

“Go get her back.” If the look on her face is any indication, Lucinda is not happy about being ordered around by her brother, but she drags her feet down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” I ask while being roughly pushed down a huge staircase, the chandelier hanging from the roof flashing a vision from my past into my mind. Flipping hell, what is it with me and this damn haunted house? I stop and turn to Darren, hoping to soften him up a little.

“I saw your dad years ago, standing here.” He was the demon with the shotgun.

Darren looks at me but I can’t see his eyes in the dark.

“I know. You were nine and one of the booby traps shot you through the arm. I was hiding up there,” he says, pointing to the top of the staircase. “After everything happened, we’ve fixed up a small part of the house to stay in whenever we were in town. Memories and all that.” A sadness flicks over his face. “Dad put in some traps for safety measures. To keep out the riffraff.”

“So everything you told me about you was a lie?” I need to keep him talking … distracted … sane.

“No, I told you the truth — like the boarding school in Andover I went to with Chloe, the death of my mother, the fact that I have a sister … I just hid my real identity.”

“That you’re not Ren Steward … but Darren Brown?”

“Even that was mostly the truth. Maybe if any of you snobs managed to remember the kids you used to bully … you could have put two and two together. But you are all too self-absorbed …”

He pulls me towards a room on the right side of the foyer and we pass the hole Kiara fell in — it seems so much smaller and smellier than I remember — or maybe I’m just bigger.

“I was on my way to come and help you, but even back then that asshole ruined everything. I’ve hated him for so long,” he murmurs while dragging me along. So his petty feud with Damion started years ago.

“You know … this is the room where everything happened … it’s as if it’s cursed. Right here —” he points to one side, “— is where they hanged my mom to make it look like suicide.” His voice is hard, laced with hate. Then he signals to the middle of the room, “Here my father was tortured, and over there —” I look at the heap of rubble that was once part of a now broken stairway, “— is where your lover’s little sister died … accidentally,” he sneers the last word sarcastically.

“You killed her?”

“Technically … no … we were in Houston at the time … she activated a booby trap …” I gasp and my heart aches, imagining Damion’s pain.

Darren ties me up. Stuffed against a pillar in the room, the ropes so tight they’re already cutting into my skin, the pain from my broken arm causing me to bite on my teeth — literally.

“And this exact column is where they tied me and my sister up, branded us, and forced us to watch.” I can hear the pain in his voice. And I pity them.

“I feel for you, I really do, but grow the fuck up … we all have issues. Life sucks for everybody.” He sneers and takes out a knife. I swallow and hold my breath.

His hand is slightly shaking as he cuts the buttons from my blouse one by one, unveiling my breasts, now only covered by my violet lacy bra. I regret not opting for a full-cover granny bra and church briefs this morning.

He pulls in a lustful breath and licks his lips, his face and eyes wiped from any emotion.

Watching in horror as his lips move closer, panic soars through me. I turn my head to the side while my chest heaves up and down. But instead of kissing me like expected, he yanks the chain from my neck, Damion’s chain, and puts it into his pocket.

“Fucking bastard,” he swears bitterly, hate radiates through every nerve in his body. And right that instant I know — for sure — that he won’t let Damion live. Fear pulverizes me and I fight for air.

Absentmindedly, I spit into his face, I’m that angry with this fucker. I understand that he went through a terrible ordeal, that he’s filled with hate and wants revenge, but it still doesn’t give him the right to do this to us. None of what happened to them was our fault, it was my grandfather’s and old Garcia’s … maybe my dad’s … Alberto’s.

He slowly wipes his face with an ugly grin and my body shuts down.

As if in slow motion he pulls a gun from his side and sticks it into my mouth. He knows I’m terrified of guns and clowns … I’ve told him once … when we were dating. My heartbeat starts to race as I pant to fill my lungs with some air.

I stare at him, thinking that his face is going to be the last thing I see. My head spins and my body shakes.

My muscles pull tight as I stand rigid against the pillar. I swear time stands still — I see him pulling the trigger; I see the hammer slamming; I close my eyes and wait to die.

Click.

Nothing happens. The gun gets pulled from my mouth.

Darren laughs out loud; a sinister laugh; an ugly laugh. I’m done … broken … scared shitless. That’s one moment in my life I never want to repeat again. My body is shaking so badly that I’m getting concrete burns where my skin scratches against the pillar.

Then his hand with the gun connects with my temple. The gun alone triggers a sudden wave of fear — I’m losing control and start to cry.

I feel something wet running down my cheek and I don’t know if it’s blood or tears or both.

Ren … Darren … asshole … monster … takes my chin in his hand, his fingers bruise my face. He loads the gun and then holds it against my temple. My knees buckle.

“Never do that again.” His voice is low and dark. “You should love and respect your husband.”

“I will never love you … and respect must be earned.” He throws my face to the one side and I look away, praying like never before.

“Say cheese!” I peep through my lashes as a phone clicks. My phone.

He sends a photo to somebody and slips my phone into his pocket, the look on his face must be the exact one a deer sees before it gets killed by a predator. He grabs my hair and yanks it, forcing me to face him.

“I wanted to be your first.” With his other hand, he then cuts my jeans, ripping them from my body and it falls to the floor in a mangled puddle at my feet, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed, standing in only my underwear. It’s chilly and my body is covered in goosebumps, shivering from both cold and fear.

“But you never wanted me.” He runs his hand over my breast and between my legs and I bite on my tongue, forcing myself to keep calm. I’ve never been this terrified in my life.

“Not even when we were young.” I swallow and he lets go of my chin. “Can you even remember me?” I don’t answer him.

“I tried to play with you every time my father took us with him to your grandfather’s place.” I truly don’t remember him. If my math is correct, I was about seven or eight when his mom died and his dad got slaughtered.

“But your brothers always meddled in my business.”

“Oh, they’re so the meddling kind,” I whisper.

“Jackson used to bully me … he almost killed me once … threw me into some kind of well … can you remember that?” I can just stare at him. Right now, I wish Jackson had actually killed him back then. Harsh … but true.

“Yeah, I thought as much. But trust me, babe, you will never forget me again.” I gag and puke on his feet. He pulls another disgusted face. My throat burns, my head hurts, and my tummy turns. Please just let my baby be alright.

He strolls to a table in one corner of the room and pours something that looks like scotch before he falls casually into a chair while taking small sips from his glass. I struggle against the ropes but they just cut deeper and deeper into my arms. It feels as if I’m going to faint, my head is dizzy and my body seems numb, probably from the cold.

“Now we’re just waiting for your b.o.y.f.r.i.e.n.d.” Looks like we’re going to kill some time until Damion gets here. My heart flutters just thinking about the man, but now is not the moment to get all smoochy about my baby-daddy. It’s time to get answers.

“Why did my mom help you?” I use my draining energy to stand up straight, trying to relieve the pain in my arm. He turns the glass around in his hand, the golden liquid catching the light, twinkling like a star.

“I don’t know. It was strange. Alexander’s right-hand man brought her here after the monsters left. She treated our wounds and gave us a car and money to escape.” Okay, now I feel like the guy who got on a plane to sunny Hawaii and ended up in snowy Russia.

He gets up and walks back to me.

“Why did Alexander wait so long before he killed her?” He looks away … his face flushed with guilt.

“He didn’t know who helped us until much later.” I guess that makes sense. “I guess I’m the one who spilled the beans. I didn’t mean for her to die, though.” He doesn’t sound too sorry.

“Your father said he didn’t plant the bomb that killed Alexander … do you know who did?” He holds up his glass and stares at the liquid shining in the light.

“No. But we’re thinking it might have been Alberto. It was definitely an inside job.” I gasp. Alberto? He doesn’t look like the type who would kill his own father — but then again — I don’t know him that well.

“Whoever it was should get a fucking medal.” For once, I agree with him.

Something slips into my mind.

“Your dad said that Alexander burned and broke you and your sister,” I start very softly, careful not to poke the beast. “Did they physically hurt you too?” His eyes lift and find mine. For a second, the harshness is replaced with pain and sadness … before he pulls his face in a not-very-pleasing manner.

He puts the glass down and unbuttons his shirt. He pulls down one side to reveal his left shoulder. A big ugly B is burned into his flesh, right above his heart.

“It stands for Blackburn. Lucinda has one too.” My eyes grow wide. I guess they suffered a hell of a lot. But still — I was not there. I didn’t do shit.

“And what did I ever do to you?” I try one last time to reason with him.

“You had to go and fuck that pretty-boy moron. Why could you not just have stayed with me?” Because you’re a certifiable … crazy … perverted … narcissist. And I have no passion for you … like that of an asexual female panda.

But don’t dare to say it out loud. I have a special something inside me I need to protect. And no matter what … Darren can never find out about that … he will kill Damion’s baby.

Movement at the door interrupts him and the tattoo guy that brought us the pizza drags in my father’s body … or by the looks of it maybe his corps — it’s a naked bloody raw mess of a human being. He throws it down against the pillar next to me and the carcass groans painfully.

Okay, so he’s still alive for now.

“I want your father to watch me take his little girl,” Darren says. My dad whimpers out what sounds like a sad cry. Darren goes back to his table and his drink.

“Sniff pixie dust and soar,” I whisper at my father … hoping he can hear me. He makes a soft whining noise.

I watch as the tattoo dude says something to my ex. Something that doesn’t go down well.

“Fucking idiots!” Darren shouts out and kicks the chair over. Something definitely pissed him off. And I know only one dude that pisses off people THIS much — Jackson. Either that or Kiara found some help. Hope flickers through my tired body and pulls a smile onto my mouth.

“Are they dead?” he shouts as he turns around to look at the pig who’s standing behind him.

“No, just unconscious,” the man answers, “but don’t worry, he won’t go far as long as we have his sister.” Are they talking about Jackson?

“If he ruins my plans I will kill you.” He’s panicking. Good.

My smile increases. Maybe our not-so-good plan worked after all.

“You know, boss, that guy is a freaking lunatic … he took out two of the guards while still tied up. And he kept on smiling like a fucking devil the whole time we tortured him … fucking crazy.” His words send chilling jolts down my spine. Yep, it’s the loony twin alright.

A frantic horselaugh cackles over my lips. Jackson is on the loose. He will save us … I just know it.

I start pulling at the ropes again, fighting the pain and exhaustion.

Darren struts to me and sticks the gun into my stomach. I swallow the banter and stop breathing as my gun phobia spasms through my body. Please don’t shoot my baby, I pray silently, my eyes focused on the gun. I watch him moving his finger on the trigger and it feels as if my heart is going to burst through my chest.

Darren chuckles as if it’s a big joke. My humor is gone. I’m scared to death and I think I’m going slightly insane right now.

“Did you find the girl?” Darren looks at the man who openly stares at me as if he’s going to eat me for lunch.

“Yes, she’s tied up with the young one,” the other guy says without taking his eyes off me, and I’m sure some spit is running from the corner of his mouth, while his hand fiddles with his crotch.

“If you find Jackson and he gives you any trouble just shoot him in the head.” The man nods and walks away. Darren picks up his glass and goes back to his chair again. I look down at my father.

“Dad, Daddy are you okay?” I whisper down to him, not wanting Darren to hear us. He opens his eyes slightly, but I can see that he’s hurt pretty badly.

“Mel, forgive me, girl. I just —” he struggles in a shallow breath, “— wanted what’s best —” Deep inside my gut tells me that this might be our last conversation ever.

“Dad, I forgive you.” I’m not sure if I truly mean it, but I know it’s what he needs to hear right now. His eyes light up a little and he gives me a small smile. Then I lean over, as close as my tied-up body allows, and talk to him with a huffed voice, “Dad, I’m pregnant. You’re gonna be a grandfather soon. Hang on, okay?”

This time he manages a big smile on his bloody face and tears form in his eyes.

“I love you, Mel,” he says and starts coughing, “Don’t worry, our family burns the black.”

A thin trickle of blood now runs from the corner of his mouth. Then he closes his eyes, his breathing an unnatural gurgling sound.