Page 115 of Volatile Waters

When they saw the bloody knife in one hand and a gun with a silencer in my other, they trampled each other to get into an available room. They desperately tried to shut the door, but I was already there, pushing it open. After barging in, I shot one and stabbed the other. “Whitney, I am so sorry…” I left, leaving the knife so I could retrieve my extra gun.

Now, it was time for my father’s two minions.

Slowly rounding the corner, I saw them past the monitor room, laughing and talking to each other, as if they were drinking vodka at a card game. I guess there was no need for them to shoot at me any longer. Their mission had been completed.

It is so hard to put blinders back on once you begin to see clearly. In fact, my blinders no longer fit me. I was an irrevocably changed man now. And, even if there was a chance of going back to who I had been, I knew I no longer wanted to. I was moving only forward from here on out.

When they saw me, they lifted their hands into the air, still acting casual and relaxed. The one who had been harder on Wolf smiled at the guns hanging at my sides. “Hey, no hard feelings, right? Just doing what we are told.”

No hard feelings? Wrong. I pretended to laugh. “It is your job, after all.”

They walked toward me. The other minion said, “They’re just slaves, right?”

“Right.” I lifted the barrels and shot them both. “Just slaves.” Then I stared at the bodies on the floor until a whisper pulled me from my thoughts.

“Yury?”

Trying not to look obvious, since I wasn’t sure where father had hidden cameras anymore, I walked past Wolf’s door, whispering, “It’s me. Showtime.” I hoped he understood that meant to act like a slave in front of the cameras. I exhaled relief as I heard him scuffle to his kneeling position.

Whitney’s door wasn’t locked. There was nothing left to do but go inside and see what was left of her mental state. Horrific didn’t describe the heartbroken girl I now witnessed. She was naked, collarless, and her body had red marks from where she had been hit and pinched. Cum dripped from her little breasts, stomach, and hair. Her eyes were closed, and she was leaning against the dark grey blocks, slapping her chest, again and again, calling out for Link to help her.

Oh, how I instantly wished my blinders still fit, and I still owned the ability to freeze my heart, but neither applied. All I had was sorrow and regret to offer her, so I set the guns on the floor so they could cool off, then pulled the note from my pocket. As I touched her arms to try to explain, I was greeted with fierce hits from her tiny, angry, little fists. Whitney blindly fought, not knowing it was me, but she was not going to be raped again without a fight.

I called out, “Whitney. It’s me. Stop. Stop…”

Once she opened her eyes and stopped striking me, I held up the note.