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I loved it when she screamed.
And begged for help.
Wrapping my arm around her, I dragged her to the couch at the center of the room like a lion leading its prey into a cave. She wiggled around in my arms, attempting to break free.
Good luck with that, baby girl.
I ripped my grandfather’s knife from her bloody fingers and shoved it into my back pocket. My girl was so predictable. I knew she would remember, eventually. And once she did, I knew she would go into self-preservation mode because she thought I was the villain in her story.
Maybe I was.
I was no hero.
She had no reason to believe she was safe with me. Not after all the shit she had put me, my family, and The Devil’s Knights through over the past year.
Alex attempted to kick and slap me, though it was no use. I lowered her onto the couch, pinning her to the cushion. Themusic cranked through the speakers, the beat drowning out her cries.
I used this room for my wild parties. It was ten times the size of a standard living room and had enough furniture to accommodate everyone in Devil’s Creek. “DON’T CHASE THE DEAD” by Marilyn Manson ended, bathing the room in silence as the tracks switched. I prepared a playlist to help Alex remember. “Sweet Dreams” by Marilyn Manson was next.
Marilyn Manson was Aiden’s favorite band. The doctors said familiar smells and sounds triggered memories. Taking her pretty ass to Beacon Bay was all part of the plan. The Serpents were under my command and agreed to play along. Anything to get our queen back. Because even their survival depended on the future of The Devil’s Knights.
Barefoot and dressed in skimpy pajamas, Alex squirmed beneath me as I caged her against the cushion, my hand still over her mouth. She could fight me all she wanted. I was over a foot taller than her and had at least sixty more pounds of muscle.
“If I release my hand, are you going to scream?”
Alex shook her head, her tears wetting my skin. I dropped my hand, and she released a sob.
“What is wrong with you, Luca?” Alex’s chest rose and fell against mine. “Turn on the lights.”
“No.”
She let out a whine, her fear of the dark taking over. This was all part of the plan. I needed to bring out some of her worst fears to trigger her memories. It was a risky treatment, but I would have tried anything once. Her doctors warned me about the adverse effects, but I was desperate.
“I got you, baby.” I swiped my finger beneath her eyes, capturing her tears. “Don’t cry.”
“How could you do that to me? You chased me… You left that knife in my bed. And now what? Are you going to kill me?”
“Do you remember what you did?”
No longer fighting me, she sighed. “Yes.”
It worked.
I flipped the switch in her brain.
Sliding my arm behind her back, I cradled her head against my chest and held Alex as she cried on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Luca,” she gasped. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“In this town, I’m the judge, jury, and executioner.” I grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her to look at me, even though it was too dark to see clearly. “What do you think is an acceptable punishment for attempted murder?”
Her body tensed, and I could feel her withdrawing from me. “I don’t know.”
“Do you know what I do to my enemies? Hmm?”
“I’m afraid to ask,” she muttered.
“I cut off their heads and mail them back to their family.”