Page 42 of Don't Trust Him

“Love? What are you—”

She cuts me short, slapping me as hard as she can. I feel the taste of copper inside my mouth, and then blood trickles down from my bottom lip.

“You shouldn’t lie to your mother, Eliza,” she tells me, and then turns to the man holding the gun against my neck. “Bring her. It’s time we end this.”

Next thing I know, the guy hits me in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Darkness takes over me.

“Wake up, Eliza.”

There’s

a voice somewhere and, oddly enough, it resembles that of my mother. But that can’t be true. My mother’s long dead.

“Wake up. It’s time we stop playing games,” that voices returns, and then I feel the splash of cold water on my face. Groaning, I force my eyelids up and feel my surroundings spin around me. My head hurts like hell and, as I try to move, I realize that both my ankles and wrists have been tied to a chair. I’m sitting in the middle of an expansive but empty warehouse, and the whole place is covered in shadows.

My mother is standing right in front of me, wearing a pencil skirt and a button-up white shirt. Her hair is tied up behind her head, and she looks like a business woman hellbent on getting the other party to sign whatever deal she’s hurting for. Thing is, this deal she wants...she wants it signed in blood.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it? I expected great things from you, Eliza. But now, here we are. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Fuck you,” I spit toward her, and she just offers me a vicious grin.

She’s enjoying this.

“No, I’m not in charge of that department,” she chuckles lightly, closing the distance between me and her. “But you know who is? Dozens of members of our little cartel. No, make it hundreds. They’re all in charge of the fuck you department. And they’re all more than willing to fuck you. Oh, I bet they’ll enjoy that very much. But you already know that, don’t you? Always dressing up, teasing everyone you meet. You’ve noticed how everyone lusts after you, and you like it. You’re nothing but a common whore.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Oh, she has spunk, hasn’t she?” She laughs, looking back over her shoulder at the man standing behind her. He’s wearing a leather jacket, and there’s a somber expression on his face; in his hand, there’s a gun. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying this, but he doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered by it. Just another job for him.

“Well, my lovely daughter,” my mother continues. “There’s still some hope for you. Just tell me everything, and maybe we’ll let this one slip. Your hard work throughout the years has bought you some good will from the boss.”

“I don’t know—”

She slaps me again, this time so hard that I feel the chair rocking back on its hind legs.

“Oh, cut the bullshit, will you? After the visit I paid you in the hotel, I got an interesting piece of information. Want to know what it is? Well, apparently you and Mr. Teague have already produced a batch of coke squared. Funny how you forgot to tell that to the boss, isn’t it?”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to give me everything you have. Tell me where the formula is. Tell me where that batch of cocaine is stored. Give me that, and you might just walk…” Reaching behind her, she grabs a knife she had tucked on her skirt and closes in on me. She uses it to cut my blouse, and then presses the blade against my skin, using it to trace a line that goes from my neck to my stomach. Blood starts pouring out from the cuts and, even though I know these are superficial wounds, she’s just getting started.

“Spit it out, Eliza, or it’s just going to get worse,” she hisses, not a trace of the woman I thought I knew in her voice. She’s not even a woman. No, standing in front of me is a monster.

“Fuck you. If you want to torture me, go right ahead and do it. Just shut the fuck up already, will you? You’re as annoying as I remember you,” I throw back at her, rage welling up inside of me. I might be going down, but I sure as fuck won’t go gentle into that long night.

If I have to go, I’ll go kicking and screaming.

“Very well, you petulant child,” she growls, raising the knife up in the air and burying the blade on my leg. I let out a wild scream as pain spreads all over my body, and the room starts spinning around me once more. “If this is what you want, this is what you’re going to get...but I assure you, I’ll get what I’m after, one way or the other. And when I’m done, I’ll just hand you back to Cabeza Dios…Caroline will delight in having you as a whore in her stable. You’re fresh and young, she’ll make sure you’re pounded for all your worth. And that’s all you’ll be worth after this.”

Gritting my teeth, I let pain wash over me as she works her knife on my body. Cutting, dragging it along my skin, draining me of blood. I drift in and out of consciousness and, even though she hits me repeatedly, screaming at me to tell her everything, I still have enough strength in me to offer her a grin and give her a piece of what’s on my mind.

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll cut your vocal cords, swear to God I will,” she threatens me, pushing the blade up against my neck. “I went to a surgical store just for that, so you can take all the cartel dick you can handle and more, you little bitch, and you won’t even be able to scream.”

“Then just do it already.”

“Oh, I will, Eliza. Believe me,” she says.

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