Page 65 of If You Go
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE MEN THATGavin sent to find me walk me to the all black SUV’s that are parked and running near the port. I am surrounded, one in front of me, one behind me, and one on either side. I can’t run. But that wasn’t what I wanted to do anyways. I have a tiny, but incredibly sharp knife in my shoe. It’s in a sheath so I won’t cut myself. But I am hoping that it’s either small enough they won’t notice or they just won’t search me. I am hoping for the latter since I also have my small revolver tucked into my bra. If I need to take my clothes off, I can keep it in my bra as I take it off.
“After you, Mrs. Kelly.” Says Fuck Face number one. That is what I am going to call all these henchmen. And Fuck Face is the perfect name for each of them. They are all like Gavin. Just as sick and deranged.
“I am Ms. O’Brien. NOT Mrs. Kelly. Never call me that again.” I say this in my most stern voice while making directeye contact. That’s when I am poked in the back by something suspiciously hard and pointy. A gun, probably.
I turn around and look at what I will now refer to as Fuck Face number two. “I know you can’t hurt me. So fuck off with the intimidation, Fuck Face number two.” I turn around and begin walking. They all freeze for a moment before continuing to follow me. I think their new name caught them off guard. I nearly giggle at the looks on their faces, nearly.
I am told to wait with a palm to the chest as one of the Fuck Faces, number three lets call him, slides into the SUV first. I slide in afterward and am forced to the back of a limo-like experience inside this SUV. Unfortunately, there is no music or champagne. A real let down, actually. Another Fuck Face, the first one I think, slides in after me so I am sandwiched between them. Another one shuts the door and goes around to the front passenger seat, and Fuck Face number two goes to the other SUV.
I feel like a celebrity in here. “Is there any champagne?” I ask sweetly to all the Fuck Faces surrounding me. They just stare at me as if I have sprouted a second head. Oh well.
“Hey! Can we turn on the music! I am really in the mood for some The Plot In You!” I look around, and most of them are ignoring me now. The driver looks at me through the rear view mirror. “How aboutDon’t Look Away, one of my fave songs,” I say to the driver. He shakes his head but in after a minute it begins playing really, really quietly. I begin to hum along, just like Brenden said his mom used to do when she was afraid. She was right, it does help.
The drive doesn’t take long, and before I know it, we reach an old, dilapidated-looking building. The surrounding buildings are just as worn down, and I can see the stadium from here. Hopefully, the phone I have stashed in my waistband has told Brenden where I am. I’m glad I turned the service back on beforeI got off the boat, so I don’t need to try and do that now. I know I won’t be keeping it long, but I am hopeful they tracked me here. We will see, I guess. But I do have a plan. That plan is to kill Gavin, really, that’s the only step I have right now. Death. I mentally shrug at myself and my plan. I know that this is going to be harder than I expect. I haven’t seen him in more than ten years. I actually think next month is the eleven-year mark.Holy shit.
“Out,” says Fuck Face number one. I do as I am barked at, and begin to exit the vehicle. Once my feet are planted on the ground outside the vehicle, Fuck Face number two asks for my phone. I pull it out of my waistband and hand it to him. He pockets it and then looks at me once more, not saying a word. I look at him with the most deadpan face I possess, and roll my eyes before turning toward the building we are obviously going to enter and begin walking. Might as well greet fate on my own terms.
“Where do you think you are going, Mrs. Kelly?” Yells one of them, and I roll my eyes.
“I am meeting my fate, Fuck Face..” I turn around to see which one before continuing my walk. “Fuck Face number three. Why wait for fate when I can greet it myself?” I berate myself internally because I guess Richie was right when he said I was going to get all self-sacrificing. I reach the doors by the time I am finished explaining to mysecurityteam, and push the doors open wide before stepping inside.
To my utter disgust, Gavin is standing there. Waiting for me. He looks the same, but more evil. I swear the shit he does sucks more and more soul out of him. He is wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, and lace up shoes. Very weird. I am used to seeing him dressed up a bit more. His brown hair is pushed backward, and he has new tattoos creeping up his neck and down his arms. I see the Irish Mafia on the side of his neck, and I see the RussianMafia down his left arm. The others I don’t recognize, except for one. He has a girl tattooed on his forearm. She is more of an artistic outline, with only three things filled in. Her eyes, they are an emerald green, the same shade as mine. The lips are ruby red and look to be dripping, like blood. Lastly, the throat. There is a slit with blood leaking from it. It’s me. It’s obviously me.
Before he can say anything, I stride further into the building. It is far different than it looks on the outside. The inside is nicely polished, as if in a secret laboratory. There are at least twenty TV monitors on one wall, all in neat rows of five. Underneath there are rows of desks, like when they show the people who stay on the ground when astronauts go into space.Houston, we definitely have a problem right now.Next to them, sitting in a chair, is Bridget. She looks awful, and I am dying to get to her, but I know I have to wait. I turn to look the other way, and I see a few desks with monitors on them and then two hallways. I will need to see if I can figure out where those go.
Finally, I turn back to Gavin and wait. I have nothing to say to him that won’t earn me a slap, so I will wait for him to greet me. But he shocks me in his first act after not seeing me for eleven years.
“Surry Marie O’Brien,” he starts before dropping to one knee. “Will you do me the honor of joining me at my side, ruling the Irish and Russian Mafia, and making me the happiest man on earth by marrying me once more?” I stand there. Stunned. It felt like forever, but I bet it was only twenty seconds before I double over laughing, I don’t know if I have ever laughed this hard.
“You’re kidding, right?” That's all I can manage to say between laughs. The Fuck Faces all around look extremely uncomfortable. “Which of these men were around when I was still trapped in that fucking house by you? Did any of them rape me and impregnate me? Why the actual FUCK, Gavin, would Ido anything with you? Especially willingly? I have been happy. HAPPY. For the past eleven years. Want to know why?” I stand up fully and regain my deadpan expression. “Because you were dead to me. For all I cared, you were dead. And I moved on with my life. I made friends, I started a career, I met a man who treats me as if the sun shines right out of my ass hole. He loves me, and I lov-” WHACK. He slaps me across the face and then grabs my hair and pulls my face toward his. His loving and thoughtful mask is gone, replaced with the real one. The angry, evil, sadistic one. That’s better.
“Oh my Surry, my dearest wife. How you will regret the words you just said to me. Let’s go have a chat, shall we?” He doesn’t let go of my hair and begins to drag me behind me so fast that I eventually fall down, and he actually pulls my body along the ground by my hair. I try to scream and kick all while holding onto my hair with hopes I will have some left after this. Fuck, it hurts. I’m pulled down one of the hallways to the right that I noticed earlier. Bridget is screaming at him from where she is tied in the chair, and I can hear one of Gavin’s men go over and hit her to quiet her. This was a stupid plan. Why did I do this?
My voice has disappeared from all the screaming, so I hold my hair and try to look around, all while I am being actually scalped. The hallways are white with a long glass wall, no. Not a glass wall. There is a girl in there lying on the bed staring straight up at the ceiling. She looks familiar. Before I can place her, I am pulled past the room, then we stop. I look up to see he is punching in a code, 6-9-0 is all I see of the code, but I have a guess as to what it is. A glass panel moves like a door, and he steps in, pulling me with him. He drops my hair, and my head falls and bounces off the cement, making me incredibly dizzy, and I feel a wet heat on the back of my head. Excellent, it’s great to start all this off with a concussion.
“Surry, do you not understand the lengths I have gone to get you back from your little meltdown all those years ago? Have I not proved to you that I need you?”
I just stare at him. I have no idea what to say. He is actually insane and there is no reasoning with insanity. I just close my eyes and hold my head where it is bleeding on the floor. I feel him before I hear him, and he is grabbing my arms and pulling me up. I go limp, I don’t want him to touch me, but unfortunately, he is much bigger than me and can hold my weight. Before I come to a fully standing position, I am thrown onto a bed. I lay there, knowing what to expect. Just because it is familiar doesn’t make it something I can ever get used to. He unties my shoes and takes them off, not noticing the knife I have in the bottom of it, and sets it down on the floor next to the bed I am lying on. Next, he unbuttons my pants and slides them down off my body. I’m left in my socks, underwear, shirt, and coat. I am just praying he doesn’t go for my bra until I can stash it in my coat in the room somewhere. But, unfortunately, life is not always full of granted wishes.
“Sit up. Take your coat off. Get fully undressed, Surry.” I do as he instructs. Fortunately, I am able to take off my bra and shirt together, so that I can hide the gun in it, placing them onto my coat lightly to ensure no noise. I take my socks off and place them with my coat as well. Now I stand before him, completely nude. He begins to look me over, I am sure noticing the new tattoos, the ones covering the scars he left on my body that he never got to see healed. He only saw the wounds.
“What is this scar?” He asks and points to the one that goes from hip to hip, almost like a smiley face.
“It is from when you put me in the hospital when I finally escaped you,” I spat at him.
“Why?”
“Because you all ruined my body. You hurt more than just the outside, you did internal damage, you stupid fuck.” His eyes widen. I think he is finally shocked for once in his whole life.
“Where is my child, Surry?”
“Who’s to say it was yours? How many men was it that day? Twenty? Thirty? I know I stopped counting somewhere in the teens. You raped me and got me pregnant. Then your men raped your pregnant wife,” I pause, waving my index finger in the direction of the hall where we came from and then pointing back to him. He slaps my face again so hard that I fall onto the bed. He then loses it and screams an unintelligible noise before pushing me all the way down on the bed and forcing my thighs open so he can place his knees between.
“Let’s call this man you say loves you, and see if he would enjoy the show. What do you say, Surry?” I don’t answer, just close my eyes and turn my head.
The next thing I hear is the hollow, digital tone of a phone ringing—that mechanical purr that seems to stretch time itself. I open my eyes, momentarily disoriented by the harsh ceiling light, to find Gavin kneeling between my splayed thighs, his eyes fixed on my exposed center with a predatory intensity that makes my skin prickle. His mouth twists into something between a smirk and a snarl as he holds his phone at arm's length, the blue glow illuminating the sweat beading on his collarbone. The speaker icon glows on the screen, broadcasting each ring that reverberates through the otherwise silent room.
