Page 37 of Deadly Desires

Melody

I’m shaking from the cold concrete floor that I’m chained to. The room is pitch black, without any windows for light to seep in through. Yesterday, he cut off all my clothes so I have nothing to ward off the cold.

My entire body is hurting from all the cuts he’s inflicted on me, but the one that hurts the most is my hand. I want to gag when I think about what he made me do, how repulsed I now feel about myself.

I’m terrified when I think about what he could possibly do to me today. Sometimes he uses my body, and other times he just wants to hurt me. He slices my body open so he can watch me bleed, like he’s trying to make sure I’m real and alive. I’ve lost count of the days I’ve been held here. It’s hard to keep track when you’re kept in a windowless room with no concept of time.

I’ve begun to lose hope that I’ll even make it out of here alive. He tells me that Jaxon’s car went up in flames when he took me from the scene of the accident and how his screams were the last thing he heard as he drove away. He thoroughly extinguished all hope that I had of Jax finding me. I feel the tears run down my cheeks. I did this to Jax; he didn’t deserve the death he got. It’s all my fault. I should have stayed far away from him the moment the pearls were left in my closet. At least that way, the only person that would have gotten hurt is myself.

I start to hear footsteps down the hall and instantly my body goes taut. I huddle into myself, trying to hide as much of my body that I can. He’s coming for me. I start shaking in absolute terror… What will he do to me today?

Twenty-Six

Jaxon

Once we pull up to Franklin’s house, we all get out and make our way inside. Franklin pours each of us a glass of scotch, and we get to work.

I know there is some sort of link between her school and her attacker, I just don’t know what it is. Or maybe there’s not, and I’m overlooking something so obvious because I’m too focused on it. I’m beyond frustrated. Not having Melody in my arms is an agony I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I miss her so much.

Franklin gives each of us the same documents so we can all review them in case anything was missed.

“Franklin, did you ever look into her graduating class to see if there was any connection when Jaxon asked you before,” James asks.

“I did, yeah. I couldn’t find any correlation between her and the attacker,” Franklin replies, looking up from the file he holds.

The three of us grow more and more frustrated as the night wears on. I hate to even think what Melody is being put through. I refuse to even think that he’s killed her. He wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to get rid of her right away. No, he’s about as obsessed with her as I am, but he definitely has me beat on the psycho scale.

We’ve all agreed we won’t be going to the cops if we discover who this is and where he’s holding her. James has connections to the Bonetti family who runs the Italian mafia along the west coast. He’ll be calling in some favors for how we plan on handling this guy. I can’t wait to get my hands on him. He’s going to wish he was never born by the time we are done with him.

Twenty-Seven

Melody

Ijust want to die and be done with all of this. A part of me wishes each time he comes for me that he will just end me instead of continuing to inflict these monstrosities on me. I have nothing more to give. I’ve been used and abused, and there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

I shiver sitting in this dark room. I haven’t eaten or drank anything since I was brought here. I feel so weak. I know I can only go so long without any water. I have become numb to the hunger pangs, however, my thirst for water is all consuming.

He came for me earlier today. He made me dance while he jerked himself off. If I didn’t dance or I stopped, I was whipped. I have so many lashes on my back that I lost count. At first, I tried not to scream, tried not to give him the satisfaction, but it only lasted a few minutes. By the time the skin on my back split, I was screaming in pain with every slash of the whip. I danced as my blood dripped down my legs and splattered the concrete floor.

Afterwards, he put some sort of salve on my back and secured me in my chains back in the dark room. The fact that he even attended to my wounds tells me he plans on keeping me around for a while. At this point, I just pray that I will eventually die of dehydration. Death would be so much kinder than this hell I’m being forced to endure.

It’s been hours since then and my back is on fire. I can’t move without experiencing agonizing pain. While I try to move into a more comfortable position, which is near impossible, I hear his footsteps returning.

The key slides into the lock and I hear the door open. I close my eyes against the brightness as he turns on the overhead lights. My entire body is trembling with fear. When I don’t hear any movement, I slowly lift my head and open my eyes to a mere squint. He has his mask on like usual, but this time instead of a knife or a whip, he’s holding a glass of water.

“Would you like some water, my sweet Melody,” he asks, his voice altered by some sort of device. Although I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying yes, I nod my head. I hate to think what he would do to me if I disappointed him by saying no.

He walks over and holds out the glass of water. Just as I’m about to grab it, he pulls it out of my reach. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Where are your manners, Melody? You didn’t say please.”

My eyes widen in fear as I hurriedly get out a “please” to placate him. Satisfied, he hands me the water and I greedily start gulping it down, water spilling down my chin and onto my chest. Once I’m done, I hold the glass back out to him, averting my eyes to the ground.

Faster than I can blink he’s slapping the glass out of my hand, and it shatters in front of me. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me to a standing position. My teeth clench with the pain, and I feel the wounds on my back stretching open again. Tears are spilling down my face.

“What did I say about manners, Melody? You can’t even say thank you,” he roars in my face.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry,” I stutter out a reply through my tears. His grasp on my hair feels like he’s ripping out all of my hair from my head. “Th-thank you.”

“It’s a little too late for that now, Melody. I’m going to have to teach you the manners you so desperately need.”

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