SWNOVELS Fear The Reapers: Chapter 7
“I’m here to repay Malcolm Warner’s debt.”
As they slipped past my lips, the foul words left a bitter taste on my tongue. It was one thing to repeat the words over and over again in my head and another thing entirely to say them out loud.
The cryptic message didn’t faze the stone-faced guard, who greeted me at the guard post. He offered nothing more than silence and an averted stare as he ushered me towards the main gate.
It shouldn’t have surprised me. The men at Alessandro’s treated me with the same indifference. Speaking once, before blindfolding me, throwing me into their car, and leaving me here. I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but the indifference of it all was unsettling.
Once we reached the main gate, Stone-faced handed me over before rushing back to the empty post at the bottom of the hill. The three guards he left me with were the ones tasked with allowing me entry into the property. They looked exactly like what you’d expect seedy security guards to look like. Muscled, filthy, and dangerous.
The short, stocky one was the first to step forward. He was all business as he motioned for me to hand over my duffle bag and rifled through my belongings. His movements were quick and efficient, and I could tell by his cool disregard and composure that he’d been doing this job for a while.
The lanky blonde one was the next to make a move. His face looked bored as he gestured for me to pass him my handbag. I placed the bag in his hands and tried not to watch as he rummaged through my most prized possessions. Within a few seconds, Lanky Blonde found the cell phone I tried to hide in the lining and snatched it away with no explanation. My heart sunk, but I maintained my composure. I knew it could happen, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch.
Then there was guard number three, the average-looking meathead. He differed from the other two. The moment he caught sight of me, he puffed out his chest, rested his hand on his gun holster, and gave me a smug smirk. I’d bet my life savings that he was the newest of the three and therefore, had the most to prove.
He glued his dull eyes to my form as he informed me of the full body search he would be conducting. The outfit I had on left little to the imagination. He and I both knew there was no way I could hide anything. Meathead just wanted to put on a show of dominance for his buddies and unfortunately for me, I was at his mercy.
Gritting my teeth, I followed Meathead’s orders and stood wide, raising my arms to help expedite the process. I could feel his hot breath cascading down my neck and without looking, I already knew he was standing too close to conduct a normal search.
His clammy hands roamed my body, pressing harder than necessary and forming a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.
I let myself relax a little once Meathead had made it down to my ankles. He’s almost done, just keep breathing… But when his hands went for another round of grazing my ass, the unease in my chest skyrocketed.
I looked to the other guards for help, but they saw nothing, too caught up in their own tasks. My mouth wanted to call out for help, but I worried that bringing attention to it may only end up making it worse for me. I didn’t know any of these men; who’s to say they wouldn’t just join in on the action.
Meathead took full advantage of our ‘privacy’ and began painfully squeezing and rubbing my denim-clad flesh. A wave of nausea hit me and my mouth pooled, preparing for the vomit that was threatening to surface. I tried to stop it, but the sensation of his hands violating me had consumed me. I tried to squirm out of his reach but only exceeded in egging him on even further.
Meathead’s idiotic self took my wiggling as a sign of my body reacting positively to him and stepped in even closer. The second I felt his vile erection press against my ass cheeks, I fractured. My pulse thundered in my veins and a gleam of sticky sweat coated my skin. I tried to regain my composure, to focus on my breathing again, but all I could see was red. All I could feel was disgust.
Eyeing the foot he stupidly planted beside mine, I stomped down on his cheap black loafer with full force, relishing in the crunch of bones underneath my heel. The yelp that escaped his lips felt like a healing balm, washing away most of the nausea in my gut.
“You stupid bitch!” He reeled, gripping my bicep to swing me around like a rag doll.
I kept my face expressionless. Meathead seemed like the type of guy that enjoyed people’s fear, and I refused to feed into his ego by cowering beneath him. He was just a tiny blip on the mountain of shit I was in, and I had much bigger things to be afraid of.
“I’m sorry, it was an accident.” I deadpanned, staring off into space.
“Let her go, Nate.” Short and Stocky ordered, grabbing Meathead by his beefy arm.
“Fuck that.” He spat, shaking out of his hold. “She needs to learn respect.”
“She isn’t yours to touch, you idiot.” Lanky Blonde mumbled, not even bothering to look up from the purse he was still searching through.
“I don’t give a fuck who she belongs to!” Meathead yelled, sending spit flying in every direction. “She ain’t going to disrespect me and get away with it.”
I made a show of wiping his spit off my cheek before staring off into space again. He wanted a reaction, but he was barking up the wrong tree. My emotions were like Fort Knox, and the bastard would get nothing from me.
“You should give a fuck,” Short and Stocky warned, “for all our sakes.”
Meathead had gone off the deep end and refused to let go. Minutes ticked by and I could already feel the bruise forming under the pads of his dirty fingers as he increased the pressure. He wanted me to cower, but I refused to. My mother’s conditioning ensured that I now had complete control over my emotions. The dumb asshole was fighting a losing battle.
“I hope she’s worth dying for.” Short and Stocky mumbled, “If you don’t let go, we call the bosses, otherwise they’ll kill us too.”
That threat finally struck a chord, and I felt his grip lessen. No matter how big and bad meathead thought he was, he knew The Reapers were much worse.
“Forget it.” He said, flinging my arm away from him like discarded trash. “The bitch is obviously fucking crazy. She didn’t even try to fight me off.”
“Of course I am.” I said gesturing towards the gate behind them. “Why else would anyone agree to come here willingly?”
No one said another word. They knew what being here meant and based on the looks in Short and Stocky and Lanky Blonde’s eyes; it was a fate they wouldn’t wish on their worst enemy.
My eyes drifted to the monstrous gate as the two guards resumed their searches and Meathead trekked back into the guard station he crawled out of. With the threat of Meathead now far in the back of my mind, I refocused on the task at hand; getting through the gate.
The gate itself was gigantic, standing tall at least twelve feet of ornate metal. The thick metal bars were slippery; slick with dewdrops of the evening’s mist. My eyes clung to the beads of precipitation as they slowly rolled down, softly gliding and building momentum only to plummet to their unceremonious death. It was a morbid distraction from the feeling of dread trying to creep its way into my thoughts.
If I lingered too long on what was happening and what was most likely going to happen once I entered that gate, I’d either run away or crumple in on myself and neither of those were real options.
The two guards finally handed back my belongings and stood to the side as the heavy metal gate slowly crept open. My heart rate kicked up a notch as my eyes flicked up, searching for what was next.
So much in this world was kept under wraps, and no one bothered to fill me in on the details. From the moment I arrived at Alessandro’s, no one said a thing. I didn’t know where I was going or who I would encounter. When I tried to ask questions, I’d get ignored. It was as if my thoughts and opinions no longer mattered, and I had no say in anything that happened to me from here on out.
That’s why when my eyes spotted a literal mansion in the distance, I audibly gasped. I prepared myself for a lot of things, but I did not prepare myself for that.
The colossal home was strangely disarming, and its overwhelming elegance almost made me forget it should terrify me. Large tinted floor to ceiling windows encompassed the entire first floor, illuminating the front of the house in a soft inviting light. The wide modern moat that surrounded the property was bottomless and if I wasn’t studying every detail, I would’ve missed the discrete slate slabs that rose from its inky depths at my arrival.
It was a dream home in every sense of the word and a far cry from where I expected The Reapers to live. But I was quickly learning that in this world, it was better to expect the unexpected.
Stepping over the slabs, I quickly made my way towards the front door and tried to calm my nerves. I couldn’t swim; having to walk over thirty feet of seemingly bottomless water wasn’t helping the situation.
The moment I stepped off the last slab, I heard the whoosh of water moving. Looking back at the path I’d taken, I watched as the slate slabs descended back into the water, leaving me with no escape.
I felt the fear bubble up again, but I stuffed it right back down. I refused to show them my fear. Villains love to prey on helpless victims. I was many things, but I wasn’t a victim. Not anymore.
Taking a deep breath, I shook off the last bit of nerves and raised my fist to knock on the door. I watched the heavy door slide open and a man’s scrutinizing eyes peered out. Hidden by the door’s shadow, it was impossible for me to see much more than the vivid green eyes staring back at me. The silence hung heavy in the air as he continued to stare without speaking a word.
After a few tense moments, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore, so I repeated the only proper words that had left my lips since I entered their world.
“I’m here to repay Malcolm Warner’s debt.”
I fought the instinct to run as he pulled himself out from behind the door. His stride was graceful for such a large man, and as he moved to stand before me, the difference in stature was almost comical. I stood at around 5’5 on a good day and he had to be nearly a foot taller than me. His soft emerald eyes scanned the vacant air around us before looking down to settle on me again. His gaze was penetrating, and I was at a loss for words.
I didn’t expect him to look like that. He was painfully handsome. His silky brushed back dark hair and bold, striking brows combined with his full lips, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones made him arguably the most attractive man I’d ever seen. He had the height and striking facial structure of a male model and the physique of a Greek god. If his body wasn’t covered from the neck down in ornate tattoos, I would’ve assumed I had the wrong house.
His enormous frame slowly circled mine, like a beast sizing up his prey. I ignored his bout of machismo and the delicious wisps of crisp citrus and spice his movements created, focusing instead on the carvings of the massive door he had closed behind him.
Much like the house itself, the door was intricate and polished. It was beautiful. Hell, everything about this place was beautiful. And if I didn’t know what kind of sadistic deals went on behind that door, I probably would’ve fallen for the illusion.
After years of living in a world full of lies and deceit, I knew better. Before her passing, all my mother cared about was her image and what other well-off people thought of her. She spent her entire life pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Even married men she didn’t love because they looked good on her arm. But like most webs of lies, you can get tangled in them if you aren’t careful. Eventually the false narrative she created grew to be too much for her to manage and the skeletons in her closet made their escape.
The house, much like the man standing before me, was just a beautiful facade masking the ugliness hidden within. It was imperative I remembered that beyond all the fancy cars loaded in the driveway and the glitzy bullshit, this was hell and the men that lived here were the gatekeepers.
“You aren’t who we were expecting.” He mused in a cold, lifeless tone.
All the moisture on my tongue dissipated. I didn’t think they would know who to expect.
“I’m better.” I purred, trying to sound seductive. “She’s weak. She’ll break easily. I won’t.” I finished, offering him a playful wink.
My attempt at seduction reeked of desperation, and if I was in my right mind, I would’ve winced at how pathetic the attempt was. But frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. Desperation became my friend long before this man came into my life and I’d do whatever I could to make The Reapers forget all about her. As far as they knew, she never existed.
“Sorry princess, tell Malcolm a deal is a deal.” He hissed, glaring at me. “Now get out of here before you do something you’re going to regret.” He said, roughly turning my body back towards the gates.
I instantly deflated. This can’t be happening. I needed to do something. Anything. I couldn’t let them get their hands on her.
“She died.” I lied, keeping my expression blank as I turned back to face him. “Malcolm didn’t want to disappoint, so he sent me instead.”
A frown formed across his face, but vanished almost as quickly as it arrived. He flashed me a smile that was anything but friendly as he gave me another once over and turned to leave.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.” He shot over his shoulder as he walked back inside, leaving the door open in his wake.
I ignored his words; nothing he could say would stop me.
Steeling my nerves and shaking off the last bits of hesitation, I gave the doorway one last hard look. I knew that the moment my feet crossed the threshold, my life would no longer belong to me and everything that happened from then on out would be because of my own choices.
I dug my grave with The Reapers of Caspian Hills, and tonight; it was time to lie in it.