The moment he took the disk from Sal’s hands, the sinking feeling returned. He knew what the disk held would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Sal was no longer able to even look at Lucca as he headed out the door to give him some privacy, telling him, “I only watched a few minutes of it before I had to turn it off.”
Staring down at the disk, Lucca shakily put it in the computer. A sick feeling coming to his stomach, his finger wavered over the play button.
If she lived it, I can watch it.
Pressing play meant changing his life forever …
Thirty-Nine
A Living, Breathing Nightmare
Four Years Ago…
Thump.
What was that? Looking at the clock on her nightstand, Chloe saw that her parents wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours. She was still shaken up from the beating Elle had taken at school, so she told herself it was messing with her mind.
Turning off the lamp, she snuggled back under the blankets, her brain still filled with the images of Elle lying on the pavement, until she fell back asleep.
Her sleep didn’t last long before a hand covering her mouth woke her up to a living, breathing nightmare.
She struggled against the dark figure, but it didn’t last long. A hard force knocked her out cold …
Her body being slammed down on a table had her jolting awake. A scream escaped her as she saw men surrounding her in an unfamiliar room.
A tall, slender, older man with black hair and matching black eyes seemed to be the one in charge as two of his men held each of her arms while a third one held her feet.
An evil twist to his lips appeared before he ordered, “Take off her shirt.”
“NO!” Chloe struggled even harder against the men, her tears blurring her vision. She was shocked by how fast her tears had been created before they could even fall.
Despite her best efforts, the two men who were holding her arms ripped off her shirt, exposing her bra.
“Please, please!” she begged, praying they would release her as they removed her shirt completely.
A flash of gold on one of the man’s fingers crossed her vision as he grabbed at her shirt. It was a huge horseshoe diamond ring that she was sure to never forget.
The man who was apparently the leader approached her with a blade, his eyes skimming over her. She felt so small in that moment. Disgusting … Worthless … Tainted as they all stared down at her exposed skin.
Why is this happening to me?
The cold metal table underneath her was a stark contrast to her burning face from what seemed like pointless crying.
“Please! Stop!” No amount of kicking and fighting was a match for what felt like millions of hands holding her down.
The laughter from the evil man who held the knife rang through her ears mockingly.
“Stay still, little girl”—he drew the knife closer to her face—“or it’ll just hurt worse.”
Looking at his abnormally large, black eyes, she was sure she was looking into the eyes of the devil.
The silver blade inched closer and closer to her right eye until it was mere centimeters from her pupil.
“Don’t blink.”
A tear welled up in her eye, making it even harder to keep her eyes open. Her body began to tremble. She was going to blink.
“Don’t blink, little girl,” he warned again.
The tear fell, and her eyes started to close … God help me!
The second her quivering lids shut, she felt the cold knife pierce her skin above her right eyebrow. It sunk deep and true, causing a shrill sound unlike any she had ever released to fill the air around them.
The pain only grew worse as he dragged the blade down her skin slowly, painfully. He then released the pressure on her skin, only for him to dig it back in right under her eye and begin it all over again.
Her shrill screams filled the space once more. However, the struggle in her was dying as she became too weak.
Lifting up the knife, this time he held her face roughly, shushing her screams while he cut a line down the right side of her lips.
When he pulled away again, letting her come up for air, the adrenaline she had used to fight was now gone.
As her blood trickled down her face and burned into her skin, she knew she would never forget the feeling when her tears met the blood to scorch paths of bloody tears down her face.
“Please, just kill …” It was hard for her to whisper her plea through her hoarse voice, but she had to try, hoping for mercy.
The maniac began to laugh while he caressed the edge of the blade over her skin. “Little girl, this is only the beginning.”
Closing her eyes, another tear fell, mixing with the hot blood. Mercy wasn’t going to be given tonight, leaving her with one final hope. To be saved.