Page 36 of Brutal Captivity

I realize that my hands are still clenched around nothing. I let go. Flexing my bloody fingers into my palms, trying to relieve them of the tension still gripping my nervous system.

The room hasn’t changed, but something feels slightly off, like a microscopic drop of blood on an otherwise clean canvas.

I’ve been steady my whole life. This isn’t steady. Then why does it feel so right?

“Should we clean this up?” Fletcher asks, finally breaking the silence that has settled over the room.

“Let them find him. It will be a message to back the fuck off. Let’s make sure there isn’t anything in here or the office we can use.” I look at the room with fresh eyes. I had been so enraged since we got here, I didn’t take a look at my surroundings.

Fletcher and Daron nod, going to find the office, leaving me alone in the room with what used to be De Luca. I ransack the space, trying to push De Luca’s last words from my mind. I have another sister, and my mom is dead. The words keep repeating through my mind, though, and I cannot seem to stop them. After a few minutes, I locate a safe behind a painting. Typical.

I inspect it, realizing that it’s fingerprint activated. I go to De Luca’s body, using a knife to cut off his good thumb. I hope it will work. It’s not too swollen or stiff given that he died a few minutes ago. I press the digit to the high tech scanner on the safe, hearing an audible click a moment later.

I open it, finding at least fifty thousand dollars in unmarked bills along with some papers that look important. I clean my hands as best as I can on the expensive comforter then put all of the money in the backpack I have with me, zipping it up as Fletcher and Daron come back, telling me that they also found some papers that may be important.

“Okay. Here are a few more.” I hand the stack of papers I found in the safe along with De Luca’s phone. It may be useful, and Evan will probably be ableto break into it, no problem. “Will you all take them to Peadar? Tell him that De Luca accidentally died while we were questioning him, a heart attack from shock or whatever. Hopefully the papers will be enough to suffice, and Peadar won’t be too pissed. Also, if he asks, tell him that one of you killed Violet.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask me questions on this. Just make it look right. Tell him she’s at the bottom of the river with a bullet in her skull. Anything. Just make sure he believes she's dead.” Something in my expression must convince them that I’m serious.

“Okay,” they say in unison, nodding.

“I found some cash. I’m gonna go home and get cleaned up then make arun.”

seventeen

“Did you kill someone?”- Callisto

Friday Afternoon…

“IthinkIhearLeo's bike.” My ears perk up at the noise. It’s definitely Leo's bike, and I would be lying if I said I haven’t been on high alert listening for it over the past few hours.

Nico and I have spent the day talking. I didn’t realize how little I actually knew about the man that has served as my personal assistant for months. Guilt sits heavy on my chest. I had considered Nico a friend, yet I never bothered to ask him about his past.

“I definitely hear something.” Nico looks in the direction of the back door.

A few minutes later, Leo walks in. I let out a surprised gasp at his appearance. He is covered in what could only be blood. Dark red and drying on his skin and clothes. I quickly scan Leo's body, looking for any potential injuries, but he seems unharmed. I don't think he’s hurt. He’s not limping or leaning on anything but worry still knots my gut.

“What happened? Are you okay? Is someone hurt? Why aren’t you in the hospital?” I fire off the questions rapidly, my brain trying to process the image in front of me. Daron stands behind Leo, but unlike Leo, Daron’s clothes remain spotless. However, his eyes look tired, as if he has had a long day. His mouth is open as he looks at Leo, seemingly unsure of how to answer me. The two men exchange glances before Leo sighs.

“We’re fine,” is all he says, and my brows crease together in confusion. If it isn’t their blood, then whose blood is it? I look at Leo again, scrutinizing his appearance this time, the worry evaporating, turning into something else entirely. When the realization hits me, it sends the room spinning, my stomach churning with it. I’m going to be sick.

“Did you kill someone?” I swallow the bile that’s rising in my throat. I don’t even need confirmation because I know it’s true. That’s the only plausible explanation if the blood didn’t come from any of Leo's group. There is too much of it. Someone has to be dead. Leo killed someone, and now he stands in front of me, like he was last night. I know that Leo has killed before, but this makesit feel all too real. Forgiving him for his past is one thing, but pretending the present isn’t real is entirely different.

“Nico, I think it’s time we get going. C’mon,” Daron interrupts, his voice hesitant, as if his parents are arguing in front of him. I don't take my eyes off of Leo, as Nico slips past me. His warm hand envelopes my shoulder for a few short seconds, then the door clicks shut, leaving me alone with Leo once again.

“Did you kill someone?” I ask again, my tone firm and unwavering. Leo's body language doesn’t change at all. He doesn't stiffen at the question. He doesn't gasp and deny the accusation. He doesn't physically respond in any way that I am expecting. Nothing. He looks up at me with wide steel blue eyes, blinking every few minutes.

A wave of disgust rolls through every cell of my body. Disgust with myself for ever thinking that Leo was anything other than a cold-hearted criminal. How could I pity him when he killed someone in cold blood then came home with it still drying on his clothes and skin?

“Not now, Callisto. I’m tired, and I have somewhere to be,” Leo finally responds, his voice wavering as if drained, like a car running out of gas slowly. Leo doesn’t say anything else, turns to walk up the stairs.

For a split second, I almost let him go. It would be easier. I could let him go and not demand an explanation. I don't need one, after all. It won’t change the fact that Leo murdered someone. Taking a life is wrong, no matter what. Letting him go upstairs and never speaking to him again would be smart, but my heart pulls toward Leo as he leaves.

“Wait. You can’t just walk away from this conversation, Leo. You have to answer my question.” I follow along behind Leo, the smell of iron filling my nostrils churning my stomach once again.

“Yes, I can. I don’t owe you anything.” Leo opens the door to his room and walks in. I pause for a split second, having never been in his room. Entering feels like a violation of his privacy, an absurd thought when Leo stole my entire life the day, he kidnapped me.