Page 86 of The Devil's Pawn

“There’s a carpentry factory that Carlito’s uncle owns. They’re there.”

She grumbles off an address, and Dom’s already texting the men in one of our cars outside, so they can head there first and wait for us. If she’s there, they’re bound to find some vehicles outside, and if Carlito moved her, we’ll need to know that too.

I give her my back, marching toward the door.

“Wait!” she calls. “Aren’t you going to let me off this chair? I need a doctor. Please!”

“You’ll stay right there until Raquel is in my custody. My men will cut the ropes when I text them, so this is your last chance to tell me if you’re lying. And you’d better fucking hope she’s alive, or I’ll come back, and this time, the bullet won’t be so kind.”

Then I’m rushing out, hoping like hell that the woman I want to bare my soul to is still alive enough for me to do it.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

RAQUEL

I never realizedhow much trauma a person can withstand before they withdraw and crawl somewhere inside their mind like a child in fear, pulling into a corner of a darkened room.

The walls of my mind surround me from all around, closing in as I hide within them, even while knowing there’s no safety there. Just fear.

My tears fall like pieces of my skin.

My worth.

My dignity.

It’s all been ripped from me by a man my parents sent me to. By my father, who’s merely standing by and allowing the cruelty to happen.

The knowledge of that is deafening, louder than my crying as I sit shackled on this chair. I hear my screams, but they're distant, like I’m being taunted by the noise. Like I’m being chased by it and keep glancing behind me, hoping the monsters are too far to catch me.

But that’s one thing about monsters: they always find you in the end.

His blade lands against my collarbone. “Should I cut your face next? You think he’d still want you if I did? I doubt it.”

His vile chuckle snakes up my stomach, venom seeping through the slices of my skin he left there. There are probably dozens on my body. I stopped counting after the first few.

Maybe I should just let him kill me. Eventually he’ll cut an artery and I’ll be done for. It’s for the best. It’s better than this torture. Better than this agonizing pain.

Does my father hear my screams, begging for his help? Is he listening to them in silence? Does he really not love me enough to help me?

The laceration on my arm burns, but the other cuts compete for my attention. I ache everywhere. My jeans are long gone; I sit in just my panties, waiting for him to cut them off too.

His knife started at my breasts, randomly tearing through my skin, but the gashes didn’t end there. He moved on to my arms, then my stomach, then the sides of my thighs. I’m marred and bloody from head to toe.

“Did you go deaf or mute?” He slaps me hard.

I mutter, my lips trembling out Dante’s name. I’ve been calling out for him for what feels like hours. His name is branded to my lips, but I don’t say it out loud. The pain would be much worse if I did. But I can’t stop thinking about him, needing him, and knowing he would come if he could.

He’s the only thing I have left to cling to. My last dying wish is to see him one last time. No matter what my mother said, I know the truth is far more complicated than she claimed. Something far different than the treachery of her words.

I know he cared about me. I know the time we had wasn’t pretend. She can’t take that from me. No one can.

Dante and I were a complication worth exploring. But it’s too late now. I’ll never know if we could’ve been more than just our bodies wrapped in lies.

“I think I’ll take your cheek now.” Carlito’s voice poisons my thoughts as the blade nears my skin.

My breaths climb while my gaze focuses on the black handle. My stomach rolls with a wave of nausea as the knife draws toward me for the cut I know is coming.

I can’t anymore. I want this to be over.Please let me die. Ple—

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