SANTIAGO
After leaving Ciara with Dr. Alvarado, I head to the back of the property and open the trap door before taking the stairs down into the cellar.
Jorge hasn’t arrived yet, but he’s on his way.
I find Pedro busy hanging meat hooks from the metal rings attached to the ceiling, and I see that he’s already brought the embalming table, which has a section for blood to drain through.
To the side stands a table, and I inspect the reciprocating saw, ax, and knives that are lying on display.
Samuel comes in with a first aid kit, and he sets up everything he’ll need to cauterize arteries so the fucker doesn’t bleed out on us too quickly.
“Wait. Fuck. Why are you doing this? Waitwaitwait,” I hear an Irish accent.
Turning to look at the stairs, I watch as Jorge shoves Nolan Walsh down into the cellar.
I don’t know what I expected, but the pasty and freckled boy-man was not it.
He comes to a stop, and holding his hand out in front of him, his terrified eyes snap from Samuel to Pedro, before landing on me.
My lips curve up in a smile. “Welcome. Please make yourself at home. We’re going to spend a lot of time together.”
“What do you want with me?” he asks, looking like he’s about to shit himself. “Who are you people?”
I pull the tarot card out of my pocket and flip it from my index finger to my pinky. His gaze snaps to my hand as I keep flipping the card.
“I’m Santiago Castro.” I hold the card up so he can see it. “And you have a date with Death.”
“W-what?” he stutters, his body wound tight as he remains slightly crouched over with his hands out in front of him.
The smile fades from my face and remembering the fear on Ciara’s face, the way she hid in the fucking trunk, her panic attacks because she was terrified to wipe herself after using the toilet, I level Nolan with a ruthless glare.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you.” The words are filled with vengeance and dripping with merciless brutality.
“I don’t even know you!” the fucker cries. “You have the wrong man.” He shifts his feet, moving in a half circle as his eyes dart wildly around the room. Then he notices the table with the tools, and he turns even paler. “M-my name is N-Nolan Walsh. You have t-the wrong m-man.”
I slowly walk closer to him, and it has him backtracking until he hits a wall behind him. My arm shoots out, and gripping his neck, I slam his head into the plaster.
With my face inches from his, I can smell his fear.
“It took her two weeks before she was brave enough to leave the hospital room. It took her three and a half weeks to sleep in a bed. It took her a month to interact with another person without having a panic attack.”
His fear intensifies, and worry creeps into his eyes, as he squeezes the word out, “W-who?”
Letting go of his neck, I take a step back while a dark chuckle rumbles from me. “Ciara.” I throw the card against his chest. “She chose this card specifically for you.” I watch as he realizes just how fucked he truly is. “She gave me a message to give to you.”
His breaths are audible over his lips, and I can just imagine how fast his heart is beating.
“She belongs to me.”
Ciara was right, it hits him square in the fucking gut and his head snaps back, a crazed look flitting over his face before the fear returns.
“For her birthday she kissed me willingly, and I fucking made her moan. I didn’t have to take shit from her. She gave it freely.”
This time the crazed expression tightens his features, and the fucker actually tries to stare me down.
“Ciara loves sleeping in my arms because it’s the only fucking place she feels safe. She touches me every single chance she gets because she doesn’t want me leaving her side.”
He lifts his chin as he spits out, “Where is she then, if she can’t fuckin’ live without you?” He makes a show of glancing around the room. “I don’t see her glued to your side.”
I lunge at him, and swiping his feet from under him, I forcefully slam him down on the floor before getting right up in his face. “You took a sweet, innocent fucking woman and tortured her for months because your pathetic ass, couldn’t get a woman like her any other way. You chained her like an animal. You took away her free will. You…” I breathe hard in his face. “I’m going to take everything you used to torture her from you.”
Shoving away from the fucker, I rise to my feet, and order, “Strap him down.”
Samuel and Jorge move forward, and Nolan tries to climb to his feet and run, but they grab him without much effort and drag his worthless ass to the mortuary bed.
“No!” he shouts. “No! Wait! No!”
Hauling him onto the steel surface, Pedro secures the shackles around his arms and thighs, securing the fucker in place.
I take a moment to calm down so I don’t kill him too quick. I roll my shoulders, then say, “I’m a fair man. I’ll let you choose.” I wave my hand over the table. “Which do you want me to use on you. The saw, ax, or knife?”
“W-what? No!”
I let out a sigh and walk to the table. “Fine. I’ll choose.” I pick up the reciprocating saw and switch it on. “Don’t say I didn’t do you any favors.”
“Noooo!” he shouts, his eyes wide with terror.
“Calm down. I haven’t even gotten started yet,” I mutter. “Christ, you’re dramatic.”
Pedro lets out a snort, and Samuel’s shoulders shake as he tries to hold in the laughter.
“You’re all fuckin’ crazy,” Nolan shouts while trying to get free from the shackles.
I move to the side of the table and pin his forearm to the steel surface. “I suppose it takes a little insanity to do what I’m about to do to you.” Shrugging, I bring the saw down on his hand, removing four of his fingers.
His scream bounces off the walls, the sound pure fucking music to my ears.
I switch off the saw and set it down on the table before picking up one of the fingers, holding it in front of his face so he can see it.
“I love how it cuts through flesh and bone like it’s butter.”
Nolan gasps, spittle flying from his mouth while sweat coats his skin.
I drink in the sight of the pain in his eyes.
“Come on, suck it up. Losing your fingers is nothing compared to what you put Ciara through.” I pat his cheek. “Dig deep. We still have weeks ahead of us.”
I drop the finger on his chest before I pick up the saw, switching it on again.
“P-please,” he begs, tears rolling over his temples.
Samuel comes to tend to the hand I’m done with while I move to the other side of the table.
I grip hold of his other forearm, and it has Nolan shaking his head wildly. Seeing the petrified expression glazing his eyes, I mutter, “Don’t lose your shit yet. I need you to be coherent for this.”
I bring the saw down, cutting through his wrist.
Nolan’s back arches as he screams in agony, before he slumps down, looking delirious with pain.
With the saw still humming, I step closer to his head and lean over him. “That should take care of the masturbation problem you have.”
When I see my words getting through to him, I say, “I have to thank you for one thing.” I switch off the saw and grin at him before I lean down close and whisper, “I’m going to take Ciara’s virginity. Her innocence will belong to me.”
Straightening up, I give him another smile. “I have to go now. Ciara’s waiting for me.” I glance up and down his body and notice he’s pissed himself. “Try to get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”
I hand the saw to Pedro, and heading to the stairs, I leave the cellar. When I get back to the house, I quickly shower and change into clean clothes before I walk to the clinic.
Rushing into the waiting room, I’m just in time to hear Ciara sniffle and say, “Thank you so much. Is it really okay for you to see me twice a week?”
“Yes. Eventually you’ll only need to see me once a week.”
The women appear from the hallway, Dr. Alvarado rubbing Ciara’s back.
Seeing me, the doctor says, “I told Ciara to have a peaceful night. She needs to rest after the session.”
I nod, reaching for Ciara. She presses close to my side as I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“I’ll make sure she rests,” I assure the doctor before leaving with my woman. Before we head up the road, I bend slightly and scoop her bridal style into my arms.
“I can walk,” she argues while wrapping her arms around my neck.
“Nope. Doc said you need to rest,” I mutter before shooting her a grin. “How did the session go?”
She presses her face into my neck, and when her breath ghosts over my skin, I break out in goosebumps from how good it feels.
“I think it went okay. We talked about the day he took me.”
“Yeah?” I don’t want to push her, but I hope she’ll open up to me.
“Dr. Alvarado said it’s okay for me to be angry because…” another breath hits my neck, “because no one looked for me.”
I looked for her, just in all the wrong fucking places.
“She’s right,” I say.
Ciara left all her belongings behind. No one bothered to check if she even packed a bag.
When I spoke with her uncle yesterday, he said he just had the house cleared out. Everything Ciara owned was either sold or discarded.
We won’t know the state of her bank account until she logs in to it. That’s if she even remembers her login information.
“It’s no one’s fault that he took me. I’m the one who left the house with him.”
I glance down at her. “Can I ask why?”
“He had a gun, and he said he’d kill Grace and me.” She’s quiet for a moment, then adds, “I didn’t want him to hurt Grace. She’s always protected me and was busy fighting Dominik and my father in the office. The next day, she was forced to marry Dominik and Dad was killed.” She shakes her head. “There’s only one person to be angry at. Nolan.”
“If it’s any consolation, he’s in a fuck-ton of pain right now,” I grumble as I carry her into the villa.
I head straight for the veranda and take a seat on my favorite chair with Ciara on my lap.
She moves her hands to my shoulders, and sitting upright, her ass brushes against my cock. She’s wearing cotton pants, her style similar to mine, as if she’s trying to match me. With the thin fabric between us, she has to feel how hard I’m getting beneath her.
Not wanting to upset her, I nudge at her lower back. “You should move, mi sol. That’s something I have zero control over with your sexy ass on my lap.”
Instead of standing up, she surprises me by straddling me, her shins tucked in on either side of me. She lowers her ass to my thighs, then bites her bottom lip, her eyes darting to mine.
I lift my hand and brush my fingers along the curve of her jaw. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”
Ciara takes a deep breath, then she scoots closer and wraps her arms around my neck again. Her eyes lower to my mouth as she whispers, “I want to kiss you.”
“I’m all yours, mi vida,” I chuckle. “You can do whatever you want to me whenever you want.”
Her lips curve up in a beautiful smile before she gives me a tender kiss that has my heart constricting.
