Page 25 of Retribution
Papa’s cell starts ringing, the ringtone indicating an elite client. “Fuck!” he exclaims as he digs it out of his pocket, checking the caller ID. He tosses it to Momma who catches it deftly. “Go take it upstairs,” he snarls at her, gripping my arms so tightly I can feel the bones grinding together.
Turning to me, he marches me closer to the table and rips the gag off her mouth. “Tell her, Rebecca. Tell Rosalie why she’s strapped to the table.”
“Please,” I cry back at him. “I’m sorry! J—just let us go back to our rooms. We’ll be good. I’ll take extra shifts, anything! Please, Papa!”
“Tell her!” he screams back at me, his eyes manic, waves of hatred pouring off of him.
Aqua eyes meet green ones, and before I even open my mouth, she knows. “What did you do, Becca?” she whispers fearfully.
Bowing my head, I murmur back, “I tried to escape. I tried to bring the police to save us.”
Anger surges across her face as she struggles once more against her restraints. “And I get to be punished for it? That’s not fair!” she cries out in a shaky voice.
“Shut up!” Papa shouts back, his grip on me tightening further. Grabbing a chain from a hook on the wall, he starts to wrap it around my wrist. “Earl, what have you been wanting to do to your girl here?”
Earl snickers, running a hand up Rosalie’s leg, grabbing onto her knee forcefully while he clutches his knife firmly in the other. “I want to open her up from chest to hips.” He climbs up on top of her, straddling her waist. Rosalie starts crying, her sobs echoing across the room. “And then, I want to fuck your corpse, my little Irish fairy. I want to fuck all your holes, and cum in your gaping chest.” The knife glints briefly before he brings it down, piercing her heart.
Her eyes bulge, a loud breath puncturing the silence, then she stills, my beautiful sister gone from this world.
“I’m sorry, Rosalie,” I whisper, my shoulders jerking on a sob. Horror, sorrow, pain, and grief pour through me, dizzying me. The chain clinks at my side, the soft sound shooting through me like a bullet. Everything goes red, then black, and I can feel something snap inside of me. The room spins, my feet unsteady beneath me, Papa’s hand loosening its grip as an otherworldly roar rips itself from me.
Rage consumes me, that tiny flame so long nurtured roaring to life, a blazing inferno burning me from the inside out. There’s nothing left but fury and thoughts of revenge. The room shrinks and expands, breaths coming in sharp pants as adrenaline courses through me.
Whipping around, the chain flies through the air, knocking Papa to the ground, his head hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Earl’s eyes fly wide as he catches the snarl on my face, and he jumps off the table, running from the room with a shout.
Peeling the chain from my arm, it clatters to the ground as I give chase. Up the basement stairs, through the hallway, he’s out the door before I can get my hands on him. The sound of his car revving has me letting out a scream of frustration as I storm to the kitchen, grabbing one of the butcher knives from the block.
Stealthily climbing the stairs, I hunt down the bitch that’s helped to make our lives a living hell. Running my fingertips along the wall, I stalk silently, listening. Her voice coming from my room calls to me, and I thrust the knife behind my back as I go in.
She’s sitting on my bed, her back against the wall, and she throws me a dark look as she finishes up the phone call. “What are you—” her words end on a shriek as I stab into her abdomen, slicing and hacking at her until her intestines spill out across her lap.
Laughter spills from my lips as I do a little twirl, blood splattering from my knife, decorating the walls with ruby-colored droplets. Momma is gasping for air, watching me with horror. Falling to my knees beside the bed, I look up at her, trying and failing to hide my smile.
“You should have protected us from the monsters, Momma,” I tell her conversationally. Lifting the knife, I scrape it up and down her arm, a parody of a mother’s loving touch. “You could have stopped him. Now you’ll die alone, and I pray my sisters come to drag your soul to hell.” Getting up, I pat her on the head, leaving her behind to draw her last breaths.
She doesn’t deserve to have someone comfort her in her final moments.
As I throw myself down the stairs, I jump down the final two just as the basement door slams open. A maniacal grin stretches across my face as I skip into the living room, waiting for Papa.
“Rebecca!” comes the shout, no one left but me to hear. “Dolores, you lazy cunt! Where the fuck are you?”
Snickering under my breath, I duck behind the door, enjoying this little game of hide-and-seek.Come find me, you bastard.
His shadow precedes him, and I whip my arm out, catching him in the stomach with the blade. He staggers, roaring out in pain and fury, outraged that I dare fight against him. Stepping into him, I push him back, forcing him to fall back onto the sofa.
“Where’s the key?” I shout at him, black shadows beginning to swirl around me, invisible demons hungry for blood.
Papa glares up at me, but stays still, clutching his abdomen as blood seeps out between his fingers. “What key?”
My eyes narrow as rage flows through me. “What key do you think? Rachel’s key!”
Papa throws his head back, laughter ringing out that quickly dissolves into coughing as he hunches over his wound. “You fucking crazy bitch. Rachel’s dead. You killed her, remember?”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I scream out, the shadows getting darker, their inky blackness tugging on me. “Give me the key! I’m not going to let her die in that cage. Where is it?”
Papa laughs again. “You watched me swallow it. That little cunt will—” His words dissolve into gurgles as I plunge the knife into his belly again and again. Ripping, slicing, tearing, Papa’s screams loud and filled with the same terror he visited on all of us. Tossing the knife to the ground, I use my hands to cleave into him, shredding organs and muscles, searching, seeking, needing that key.
I can’t let her die. Not Rachel.
