That earns me a smile, and fuck if it doesn’t make me feel good. Her smiles are coming more and more frequently, and I feel so damn proud when I’m the cause.
Trouble shows up a few minutes later. While he talks to Remi, Rella and I go up to our room and she helps me pack. We’ll make a pit stop at my house so I can get a couple more things before heading out of town.
As we pull out of his driveway, Rella and Remi on the porch watching us go, my mind plays havoc with itself. Anticipation rocks through me at what’s to come, while at the same time I’m already anxious to get back.
I SETTLE BACK IN THE shadows as the front door clicks open. Nauseating giggles and disgusting chuckles fill the air before the couple walks through the door. The man flips the switch by the door, and a small lamp by the couch turns on. The light doesn’t reach where I’m standing. Rage boils in my blood as the man cups the woman’s face, leans down, and kisses her passionately.
“God, Gabby, can you imagine how sweet she’s going to be?” he groans into her mouth.
She moans, her hands sliding up her husband’s chest and lacing through his hair. “Sweet, little, and innocent. The best kind there is,” she answers in a husky tone. “And to think, she’ll be with us in just a few weeks.”
I grind my molars together. They’re talking about an infant girl named Angelina they’re in the final stages of adopting. Only three fucking months old. How they managed to pass the extensive applications the state puts all potential adoptive parents through is beyond me. It just goes to show how fucked-up and uncaring our government is. I’m sure Rella wasn’t the first girl they sexually abused, and I’m certain she wasn’t the last. There’s no telling how many girls were in between Rella and Angelina. The thought makes me sick and further ignites my fury.
“Fuck, it’s going to be so good to have a fresh one with us again,” he groans, kissing his way up Gabriela’s neck. “To train her from the beginning just the way we like.”
“Yes,” she hisses, tossing her head back in ecstasy.
I’ve heard enough. My muscles are tense, and I can barely see past the red haze clouding my vision as I stalk over to the demented couple. They don’t see me coming.
Sliding my knife from its sheath, I press the tip against the side of Marco’s neck. I grab a fistful of hair, and yank his head back so hard it has to be close to snapping his neck. I immediately pin the woman with my hate-filled glare. Her eyes widen and her face drains of color. She opens her mouth to scream, and I press the blade harder against Marco’s neck. He grunts when the tip pierces his skin.
“Either of you make a fuckin’ sound, and I’ll hack through his neck and spray your disgusting face with his blood.”
Neither makes a sound or so much as twitches a muscle. Trouble leaves his hiding spot and strides over to us, moving behind Gabriela. She sucks in a sharp breath when she’s suddenly in a choke hold. Marco begins to struggle, which is a stupid move on his part, because it only causes the knife to cut into his neck more. He lets out a pathetic cry and stops moving.
“W-What do you want from us?” he croaks, barely able to talk because of the angle of his head.
“We’ll get to that in a minute,” Trouble answers, yanking Gabriela around and marching her toward the bedroom we scoped out when we first got here.
I knee Marco in the back of the thighs. “Move,” I growl in his ear. It’s awkward for him with his head still yanked back, but he steps forward, following his wife and Trouble down the hallway.
Trouble shoves Gabriela onto the bed, and I reluctantly do the same with Marco, when all I want to do is sink my knife into his gut and drag it through every inch of his flesh.
Gabriela scrambles over to Marco, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders. She huddles against him, tears cascading down her pale cheeks as she visibly trembles.
“Do you know who we are?” Trouble demands, his eyes shooting fire.
“No,” Marco answers. “Should we?”
“Twenty-four years ago, you were given a little girl. Her name was Daisy,” he says casually, pulling a vial and syringe from his pocket. He pushes the needle into the vial and starts drawing the liquid. His eyes slide to Marco. “She was my baby sister.” He puts the needle down on the bedside table and pulls out the other one to fill.
The lack of color in Marco’s face now matches his wife’s. His mouth flops open several times before he manages to speak. What he says sets off my temper even more.
“We don’t know a Daisy. You must have the wrong couple.”
Quicker than either of them can notice, I lurch forward and jam my knife in the soft part of Marco’s thigh. Before he can scream, my hand is gripping his throat, crushing his windpipe. He feebly claws at my hand, but he’s old, weak, and overweight.
I drag his face closer to me. “Do not fuckin’ lie,” I seethe and twist the blade.
Gabriela’s cries are starting to annoy me, so I grip the front of her shirt and shove her across the bed. Trouble catches her by her hair, turning her to face her husband.
“W-What do y-you w-want with us?” she sobs.
Grabbing the full needle, he yanks her head back so she’s looking at him. “What in the hell do you think?” he snarls in her face. “You repeatedly raped my sister for fourteen fucking years. And were going to do the same to another little girl. A goddamn baby,” he growls. “And I’m pretty fuckin’ sure there were others between them.”
Her face scrunches, and snot runs down her nose to mix with her tears. “You’re going to kill us,” she guesses on a sob.
The smile Trouble gives her has her trying to slink away from him, but she gets nowhere with his hand still in her hair.