HER VENGEANCE, HIS OBSESSION

Chapter 18

Maya's POV

The first thing I noticed was the headache.

The second was the fact that my head felt like someone had used it to practice baseball.

The third?

I couldn't move my f*****g hands.

My eyes snapped open.

Or at least, I tried to. My eyelids felt ridiculously heavy, and my vision was blurry.

Where was I?

I tried to sit up.

Pain shot through my head.

“f**k!”

Then everything came rushing back.

Zakhar.

The argument.

The black van.

One minute, I was arguing with Zakhar, and the next, I was being dragged into a van.

Shit.

I had been kidnapped.

Again.

Ugh. This was the second time now, and I don't even have a knife on me.

Great. Just great.

Who the hell even kidnaps someone in broad daylight?

Bored psychopaths, apparently.

I tugged at my wrists, only to feel the ropes dig deeper into my skin.

Oh, goody.

I twisted my hands, trying to find even the tiniest bit of slack, but whoever has tied me up clearly knew what they were doing.

I leaned forward, braced my feet against the floor, and pulled as hard as I could.

Nothing.

The ropes only dug deeper into my skin.

I slumped back in the chair, glaring at my bound wrists as if they were personally responsible for ruining my life.

They were.

I was Maya Belladonna. I'd survived a house fire, learned how to throw a decent punch and stab people, and dealt with some of the most irritating people on the planet.

And now I was losing a fight against a f*****g rope.

Fantastic.

I glanced around the room.

Gray walls. No windows. One heavy metal door with a lock on the outside. Not a single fan in sight.

Are you kidding me?

The room feel more like a cage than a place meant for human beings.

It might as well be a prison.

Was their plan to suffocate me before they even got a chance to finish me off?

Because if it isn't, they'd better hurry the f**k up.

At least the place I'd been taken to the first time had a tiny window. It wasn't much, but at least I could see the f*****g sky.

Here? Nothing.

The air felt thick and stale, and every breath seemed to make the silence more unbearable. There wasn't a single sound from the other side of the door. No voices. No footsteps. Nothing to tell me where I was or how many people were waiting outside.

I tugged at the ropes again.

And again.

And f*****g again.

No luck.

What the hell were these things made of? And why wouldn't they just loosen?

So I just gave up.

Whoever tied me up had apparently taken their job very seriously. I hoped they were getting paid well because I was going to make their life a living hell if I ever got free.

God, I hate my life.

Eventually, I settled for staring at the door and waiting for someone to show up.

Surely someone would come eventually.

Maybe they'd bring me food. Water. An explanation.

Preferably all three. Hopefully.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Thirty.

An hour.

Not a single sound came from the other side.

My stomach growled.

Oh, for f**k's sake.

Then I remembered that I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch, all because of a certain blue-eyed prick.

Just as I was promising to make Zakhar wish he’d never been born, my stomach growled even louder.

“I know, buddy,” I murmured, glancing down at my stomach.

Another growl answered me.

"Are you trying to get us killed? Because I promise you, if we die in this miserable room, I'm blaming you.”

My stomach growled again.

Unbelievable.

I was actually arguing with my own stomach. There went my last remaining brain cell.

I lifted my head and stared at the door.

"Hello?” I called out.

Nothing.

“Is anyone out there?”

Silence.

I frowned.

“I know you fuckers can hear me.”

Still nothing.

I took a deep breath.

“Could someone please come in here? I promise I don't bite. And when you do, I wouldn't mind some food. Maybe a chicken sandwich. Actually, scratch that. I'm starving. I'll take a burger with fries and I wouldn't mind a giant chocolate milkshake on the side. So, yeah, that'll be all.”

I waited.

"Did you get my order, or should I repeat it?"

Silence.

"You know what? Forget the burger. I'll even settle for a packet of biscuits at this point."

Not a f*****g peep.

“Seriously? Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

My stomach didn't seem to get the memo.

“Oh, shut it. I'm trying my best here. Don't be an ungrateful piece of shit.”

Another growl.

“Yes, I called you a piece of s**t. What are you going to do about it?”

I sighed.

This was officially the lowest point of my life.

“You know, I was actually considering making your deaths quick and painless. Maybe letting some of you off with just an arm or a few missing limbs. But apparently, you assholes would rather let me starve to death, so now I'm going to make each and every one of you suffer a slow and very, very painful death.”

That's assuming I get out of this hellhole.

At this point, I'd started to believe I'd been kidnapped by ghosts.

I shifted in the chair, trying my absolute best to get comfortable, but my shoulders were beginning to ache from being held in the same position for so long.

My butt was literally crying for help.

I was tired, hungry, thirsty, pissed off and really wanted to rip someone's head off.

Talk about a complete package.

Those motherfuckers better hope and pray I don't find a way out. Because if I do, well, someone's going to have a really, really bad day.

And that someone wasn't going to be me.

Eventually, exhaustion caught up with me. My eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, and despite the uncomfortable chair and the ropes digging into my wrists, I drifted off.

—

A loud metallic bang jolted me awake.

My eyes flew open.

For a moment, I had absolutely no idea where I was. My neck hurt, my shoulders ached, and my stomach was practically eating itself.

Then everything came rushing back.

Oh, yeah. I’d been kidnapped.

Ah, my shitty little vacation. Cute, isn't it?

I lifted my head, blinking away the sleepiness.

Was it morning already? Afternoon? Heck, for all I knew, it could have been the middle of the night.

There were no windows to give me even the slightest clue, and whoever had designed this godforsaken room clearly hadn't considered installing a clock.

Dumb f***s.

My bladder was beginning to remind me that I was, in fact, a human being with basic needs.

The last thing I needed was to pee all over myself.

The universe was sure getting creative in finding new ways to make my life even more miserable than it already was.

Aren't I lucky?

I was about to start shouting for my kidnappers to hurry up before I f*****g burst when I heard footsteps approaching.

I immediately straightened.

Thank f**k.

The footsteps grew louder, stopping right outside the door.

"About damn time," I muttered.

A moment later, the lock clicked and the door swung open.

Two men stepped inside.

They were both dressed in black. The first guy had dark hair and looked almost bored. The other one had red hair and gave me a look that promised pain.

I raised an eyebrow.

What did I do?

My gaze moved between them, taking in their expressions.

Then I saw it.

A tattoo.

A f*****g dragon tattoo.

My breath hitched.

It stretched along the side of the dark-haired man's neck, just beneath his jaw.

My heart began pounding against my ribs.

No f*****g way.

I looked at the other man.

A dragon was curled around his forearm, clearly visible against his skin.

I knew those tattoos. They were one of a kind.

I'd spent four years searching for the men who wore them. Four years chasing dead ends, following leads that led nowhere, and trying to piece together what had happened to my parents.

And now, two men with those same tattoos were standing in front of me.

In the same room.

With me tied to a f*****g chair.

Oh, fantastic. Just f*****g fantastic.

Apparently, the universe had decided that ruining my life wasn't enough. Now it wanted to hand me the answers I'd been looking for while I was physically incapable of doing anything about it.

Well, wasn't that just my f*****g luck?

The red-haired man stepped closer.

"Who are you working for?"

I blinked.

What?

"Excuse me?" I asked, feeling rather insulted.

"You heard me.”

Before I could respond, the red-haired man grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back.

I hissed in pain.

My head was on fire.

"Let's see how cooperative you are," he muttered.

"Have you tried asking nicely, you stupid—"

His hand stuck my face.

My head snapped sideways, and pain flared across my cheek.

Oh, you son of a b***h. He actually slapped me.

I slowly turned back, glaring at him.

“Loosen the ropes, and I'll show you what happens when you raise your hands on a woman, you f*****g twerp,” I said darkly.

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Your mouth is still running now, but just wait till I'm done with you.”

“Go to hell.”

His expression darkened.

His fist connected with my stomach.

A strangled gasp escaped my lips as I doubled over as much as the ropes allowed.

Fuck!

Before I could catch my breath, he struck me again.

I clenched my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

“What's wrong?” he sneered. “Lost that smart mouth of yours?”

I lifted my head, glaring at him through watering eyes. “I'm just wondering if your fists are as useless as your face.”

His expression twisted with rage.

This was going to hurt.

He struck my cheek again, and I tasted blood.

The bastard had split my lip.

I breathed through my nose, trying to steady myself. “Are you done?”

Apparently not.

He stormed out of the room, only to return a few seconds later with a f*****g baseball bat.

Shit.

Shit.

SHIT.

He approached me, swinging the bat loosely at his side.

I stared at it, then at him.

"Now, let's see how funny you find this," he sneered.

I was shitting bricks now.

“Are you going to swing, or are you just going to yap like a f*****g child.”

His expression darkened.

The bat struck at my thigh.

A scream escaped me before I could stop it. I desperately tried to pull away, but the ropes to held me in place.

He raised the bat again.

I braced myself, biting down on my lip as he struck me in the stomach.

A strangled cry escaped my throat. Pain flared through my abdomen, and for a moment, I couldn't catch my breath.

"Still feeling funny?” the red-haired prick taunted.

I narrowed my eyes, fighting through the tears.

"Still looking like God's biggest mistake," I rasped.

His jaw clenched.

Oh, I'd definitely hit a nerve.

Just when I thought he'd finish me off, the dark-haired man spoke up. “That's enough, Josh.”

I froze.

Josh.

Why does that name sound familiar?

The black van. The masked men. The man I'd confronted because of his dragon tattoo.

Then the memory hit me.

Josh, carry her. Henry, clean up that mess.

My eyes widened.

Now I understood why he’d been giving me dirty looks.

Josh was one of the men who had kidnapped me the first time. The same fucker whose ass I'd kicked.

Well, well, well. Who knew he’d escaped while I was bathing in the blood of those motherfuckers.

I couldn't help it. I burst into laughter, throwing my head back.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" Josh roared.

I tried to stop laughing. I really did.

But one look at his furious face sent me into another fit.

"Oh, my God," I wheezed. "Your face. I'm going to f*****g die.”

"Josh." The dark-haired man sounded warningly calm.

“Shut it, Henry!”

Henry?

Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.

I eventually stopped laughing, but I was still grinning like an i***t.

Josh's eyes narrowed.

"Still finding this funny?”

His face hardened.

“I may not have killed you the first time, but I’ll make sure to finish you both this time. Mark my words,” I warned.

One thing was becoming clear. Whatever organisation these bastards belonged to, I was going to find it, tear it apart, and make sure none of them could ever hurt another family the way mine had been hurt.

Josh's expression twisted with rage.

Before I could say another word, he swung the bat one last time, striking me hard on the side of the head.

A sharp cry escaped me as white-hot pain exploded through my skull.

My vision blurred, and the room began to spin. I tried to keep my eyes open, but darkness crept into the edges of my vision.

Then everything went black.

—

I groaned, slowly opening my eyes.

My head.

Oh, right. Josh. The baseball bat. The f*****g kidnapping.

At this point, I was honestly losing track of what was going on.

I tried to move, only to realize my wrists were still tied.

Right, how could I forget about that?

"Finally awake?"

I froze.

That voice.

No. No. No.

I slowly lifted my head and turned toward the voice, coming face-to-face with a pair of eyes I knew all too well.

“What the hell are you doing here?”