He turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, then we descended downstairs. Each time he hit a step it lit up. Other than the light illuminating from the steps, it was total darkness.
I balanced myself with my palm against the wall, my hand trailing against its smooth surface. When we reached a landing, I thought we were wherever he was leading me to, only to follow him deeper.
“Almost there,” he said.
It was a good thing because my claustrophobia was creeping in. The air was still cool, but it felt thick. Maybe from anticipation but it was getting harder for me to breathe. Then I heard it. The faint noise of voices. Thumps. And what sounded like groans and moans.
Lorenzo stepped off the last step, and I followed him through a small corridor, until he reached another door. Once again, he pressed his thumb against a black box, then a soft click followed.
He stopped and looked at me. “What you see is necessary.” His voice was calm and emotionless. “Do not interfere.”
“Okay.”
He pressed the button on the black box, and the door creaked open before he pushed it open all the way. When we stepped inside, the sounds grew louder. The smell of urine, vomit, and blood saturated the air causing me to gag.
“I didn’t think to warn you about the smell,” Lorenzo mumbled.
The walls were upholstered in deep gray, tufted pads. The floor was finished concrete just like you’d find in a basement. And a faint hum vibrated through the space maybe from the ventilation. When we rounded a corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes locked onto Dorian and Sergio.
Dorian hung from the ceiling by thick iron chains looped around his wrists, his body suspended and swaying. His nude body was cover in blood, and bruises. Some fresh, some faded into sickly yellows and greens. Cuts traced his ribs, his thighs, his collarbone, and his chest. His head lolled forward, and his hair was matted to his face.
A single spotlight above him cast a harsh circle of light, isolating him in the center of the room like an exhibit. Around the edges, I noticed hooks embedded in the walls, a table with surgical instruments laid out in perfect order, and a drain in the center of the floor.
This wasn’t just a regular room. It was a place designed for pain. A place to torture.
Sergio was dressed in all black. Black T-shirt, black pants, and black boots. I don’t remember the last time I saw him dressed like this.
He pounded on Dorian, like he was one of those heavy punching bags. With every punch, Dorian’s body swayed, and Sergio moved then punched with each movement of his body. For a minute I watched, mesmerized at how fluid Sergio’s movementswere, and how powerful his punches sounded. But then my gasp caught not only Dorian’s attention but Sergio’s.
Nothing but pure rage covered Sergio’s face when he saw me. “What the hell are you doing here!” Sergio shouted, but I couldn’t respond as my eyes stayed fixed on the brutalized body of Dorian Drakos, my husband, who was now smiling.
At me.
“Nice for you to show up, my love,” Dorian said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sergio
The punch landed square against his jaw, he grunted as blood sprayed across the concrete floor at my feet. I grabbed his jaw, my fingers digging into his bloody skin.
“You don’t fucking speak to her.”
“Fuck you,” he grunted the words barely leaving his mouth.
I punched him in the gut.
My body vibrated with so much rage. She had no business being here.
I stalked to her, and when I stood in front of her, I blocked Dorian from her view. However, there wasn’t anything I could do about his taunting voice in the background short of killing him, and it wasn’t time for that yet.
Her eyes slid to mine, and all I saw was fear and that shit pissed me off even more.
I glared at my brother and he shrugged. “She deserves to be here.” He crossed his arms over his chest like that was a good enough reason for him to bring her down here.
It wasn’t.
I didn’t think she could mentally handle what was happening in this room. Dorian terrorized her, and I was trying to save her from experiencing any more trauma.
