Page 116 of Disturbed Lucidity

When he didn’t respond, I stood straighter, pushed off the wall, and took a step toward him. “You raped my mother.”

He stepped back.

I stepped forward.

“You raped your daughter.”

He took another step back.

“You sick son of a bitch. You used me for your own perversions. Let your perverted friends play with me. Sold me like discarded trash to have me killed.”

“I was teaching you a lesson!” he shouted when his back hit the wall behind him.

Taking another step, I tilted my head. “And what lesson was that, asshole?”

“That you were to serve me. You were mine. I created you. You were perfect, but you couldn’t do the one thing I wanted.”

I nodded, understanding what he was trying to say. He was nothing more than a sociopath with psychotic tendencies. The man wasn’t a sadist. He was a pedophile who enjoyed inflicting pain on little girls to show his dominance, and when those girls became no longer worthy, he used them to breed another, hoping the next one would do better. He was looking for the perfect, obedient woman.

Too bad for him.

There was no such thing.

“You wanted another daughter so you could train her like you trained me. You prefer them little because they don’t fight back and you can manipulate, warp their minds into accepting what you do is normal. You sick FUCK!”

“You have no right to judge me!” Father shouted, shaking his head. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but I understand right and wrong. I may ignore it most of the time and do whatever the fuck I want. I know there is a difference between the two. And you are fucking wrong. Everything about you is. From the twisted glint in your eyes to the sadistic air that you breathe. You are an abomination and need to be destroyed.”

“I’m God’s vessel!” he sneered. “You can’t destroy me.”

I laughed. Really laughed.

“You can’t be that stupid.” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. “You are not God! You are a fucking piece of shit who enjoys diddling little girls and it stops right now!”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Luc

I couldn’t think about anything but getting to Ivy. I knew I’d broken protocol. There was a particular way Disturbed functioned.

It was what made us different from all the others.

Like a well-oiled machine, the club still adhered to all military protocols regarding any encroachments or attacks. It was my job to structure everything. Perfectly calculate and plan for every contingency to the best of my abilities. I took nothing to chance and ensured the best outcome for all involved. But all that training flew out the window the second Elvis told me that sick motherfucker had my woman. I thought it strange that over the many years of specialized military training, that I could easily forget everything for one woman.

But Ivy wasn’t just any woman.

She was my woman.

“Go!” I shouted, running towards the warehouse. “Kill them all!”

Bravo Team didn’t need to be told twice as they stealthily started taking them down one by one, and men scattered like rats, seeking cover. The element of surprise was over. All that remained was a war zone and only the strong would survive.

“Is he dead, Elvis?” I yelled, my feet pounding hard on the ground as I made my way toward the warehouse, ducking behind a large metal container. I didn’t want that motherfucker’s hands on her any longer than necessary. My thoughts kept flashing images of her mangled body lying there on the ground, broken.

No. She was stronger than that. Nothing would break her.

Not him.

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