Page 36 of Damon
When I return to the living room ten minutes later, I throw myself down on the sofa then reach for the remote control, but it’s not in its usual place. My eyes scan the room, then I see it sitting on the sideboard. I never leave it there. Mrs. D must have moved it. Reluctantly I rise to retrieve it, then press the power button upon retaking my seat.
My widescreen television lights up, the image of a naked woman filling the screen. She is bent over as a masked man pumps her from behind. He grabs her hair, pulling her head back roughly. “You like that, little whore, don’t you,” he says. “Be a good little sex doll and come for daddy.” Frantically, I tap random buttons on the remote to change the channel, but it doesn’t budge.
“What the fuck!” I shriek, panicked. I do not watch porn. All my attempts to stop the video fail, and I storm over to pull the plug from the socket. “How the fuck did that get on my TV?” I mutter furiously to myself, completely unsettled by the unexpected scene in my living room.
“I thought it was your home video,” a deep male voice replies from behind me. “Nice place you have here, Kathryn. I do wonder whose fuck on the side you are that you can afford it.”
His voice is both instantly recognizable and petrifying. The use of my real name freezes me to the square of flooring I stand on. “Turn around and face me,” he orders. I continue to stare at the wall, unable to move as terror courses through my veins. “Now. Look me in the eye, snake, and see what that big mouth of yours caused.”
Slowly, I turn one hundred and eighty degrees to face him. Samson Moreno stands opposite with a huge man on either side of him dressed in sharp black suits with white shirts. Each of them wear earpieces that curl down the sides of their neck and beneath their collars.
Moreno is dressed in the same suit I saw him wearing when I spotted him on the street with Damon. His hair is silver-gray now, similar to the color of his eyes. The same neat features which watched me screaming for my parents as he killed them now scan me intently. A burn mark trails from his right ear down the side of his cheek and across his neck. A nasty smile plays on his lips as he surveys my reaction to him.
“Kathryn Haining,” he says. “You weren’t as difficult to track down as I thought you might be. The police witness protection program certainly needs to tighten up their policies. Identities are easily bought.”
“What do you want?” I stammer.
“Revenge,” he replies calmly. “What else? You’re the reason I’ve spent almost a decade behind bars. It was your testimony that closed the cell door. Do you not think you owe me?”
“Owe you? You murdered my parents!” I scream, as my initial fear turns to fury. This man has taken enough from me—my family, my identity, and my future. He won’t take anything else without losing more of himself.
“Still a feisty little bitch, aren’t you? Though you are far more grown-up now, I see.” He turns to one guard and then the other. “Unfortunately, boys, we won’t be able to enjoy her. Time is of the essence, as much as I would like to fuck the little bitch into submission before her disposal.”
“People will look for me,” I hiss. “They’ll know I am missing.”
“Who said you were going to disappear? I was thinking of a death more self-inflicted. Something easy to explain away as the actions of a heartbroken young woman with no family, who discovers the supposed killer of her parents is back on the streets.” I take a step back, and he chuckles. “Do you think you’ll be able to outrun us, Kathryn?”
“My name is Emma,” I snarl. “Kathryn died the same day my parents did.”
“Well, Emma, prepare to die. Restrain her.” As the two men walk over, I dive right and sprint to my kitchen, grabbing for a knife from the block on the worktop. Comically, my hand lands on the smallest blade.
“Size tends to matter in these situations,” Moreno calls to me. “That toothpick would barely graze the skin. Come quietly, and I’ll make it painless. Fight, and you’ll feel every last drop of blood seep from your body.”
“You’ll have to catch me first,” I snap, grabbing the knife block from the counter and hurling it at the first giant; it crashes off his chest. He lunges for me, but I dodge around him. His fingers graze my elbow. Still wearing my heels, my strides are awkward, but I reach my bedroom door before the second man can reach me. As I slam the door shut, his arm shoots through the gap and is crushed between the wood and the doorframe. He makes no sound, only smashes his body against the barrier between us. I push up against it in a feeble attempt to keep him out.
“Emma,” Moreno calls. “You are fighting a losing battle. Let us in, and we’ll be gentle. Resist more, and I’ll go with option B.”
“No,” I hiss then swipe at the man’s hand trying to reach around the door to me with my pathetic knife. The silver slits open a dark blue swirl tattoo on the back of his hand, and blood immediately pours from the wound. He pulls it away, and I take the opportunity to slam the door closed. My eyes search frantically for the lock, but as I reach for it, the door crashes open again and knocks me down. My whole body trembles with the fall, and searing pain engulfs my lower back. I scramble to my feet as the three men come through the doorway.
The first guard who attacked me in the kitchen grabs my arms, pinning them to my sides. “Listen,” he growls. “Fucking behave.” The second man appears with a rope and ties it around my chest, securing my arms. Moreno appears behind them.
“Finally,” he mutters. “Okay, Kathryn. Now that you’re listening, I’ll tell you how tonight will play out.” He steps forward then crouches slightly so we are at eye level. I suck deeply then fire the spit I was holding in my mouth; it hits him square in the eye.
“Disgusting bitch,” he yells, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping at his eyes. He lifts a hand, and I expect it to crack against my cheek, but the blow doesn’t come. Instead, he leans down, removes his shoe and sock, then stuffs the material into my mouth before putting on his shoe again. The vile taste of sweat and unwashed male coats my tastebuds. I gag, but the sickness has nowhere to go.
“Do you want her roughed up, boss?” one of the goons asks. “Teach her a lesson?”
“No, her death needs to look plausible. Stick to the plan. Take her to the bathroom then clean up that mess,” Moreno says, gesturing to the blood splattering the floor and walls from his henchman. The big man visibly deflates, obviously disappointed at not getting to toss me around a bit. “There can’t be any sign that we were here. Make sure the place looks like it did when we arrived before you leave.”
The second guard stands behind me and holds my shoulders firm. “Walk,” he instructs. I take a single step then stop. “Walk,” he repeats firmly. When I don’t move, he knees me harshly in my lower back, exactly in the spot still throbbing from my earlier fall. It stings fiercely, and I wobble but hold my ground.
The next thing I know, my feet are removed from the floor. I am thrown over his shoulder. He stalks out of the room as I wriggle furiously in his grip. As we step through the doorway, he swings me to the side and the top of my head cracks off the frame.
“Be fucking careful,” Moreno snaps. “She needs to look untouched.” My captor grunts but continues on course to my bathroom. When we arrive, I see the tub is already filled with hot water; steam rises from the smooth surface. He sets me back down then unties me.
I feel a sharp prick on my left arm. “A sedative,” Moreno advises.
“What?” I shriek as the tiredness washes over me. I fall to the floor and everything goes black.