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4

TIANA

A fter leaving those two fuckwads to stew in their predicament, I threw up again in the kitchen. Emotionlessly, almost like a robot, I cleaned the kitchen to perfection, brushed my teeth twice, then scrubbed my body in the shower until the water ran cold. My phone had a random video playing that periodically played laughter and faint crying in the basement to keep them company.

I’ve been lying naked in my bed, staring at the ceiling ever since I got out of the shower, wondering why I don’t feel worse about what I did. There’s a sick exhilaration that I get out of toying with them like my own voodoo dolls. My hand snakes between my thighs to find myself still dripping despite the small orgasm I gave myself in the shower, the lingering bloodlust pulsing under my skin. To try for a second one would be useless.

Taking my time in the eerily vacant house, I lay my outfit out before moisturizing my body. My skin glows, a rich, warm bronze, like I’ve been kissed by summer and never let it go. Despite knowing I’ll likely have to do this all over again, the routine fuels my anticipation. This is all a twisted game to me. Zipping my sports bra up, I throw on an all-black shirt with matching cargo pants and slip into my favorite boots. My hair has a mind of its own, thick spirals spilling over my shoulders, refusing to be tamed. As I pull it back into a loose ponytail, I feel ready for anything. For the finishing touch, I loop my mother’s favorite leather belt through the straps—the one with the heavy, metal belt buckle.

This was just the reset I needed before round two. My boots stomp on the hardwood floor. For once, I don’t have to tiptoe around this house. Seeing the fresh arrangement of fruit on the counter makes my stomach talk to me, so I answer with a green apple that makes my eyes roll back. Grabbing a banana, too, I check the live feed on my laptop. They’re both out cold. I expected as much since it’s almost been two hours since I graced them with my presence.

Stacking two of our biggest pans over each other, then a funnel, some thick kitchen gloves, and the bowl of rotten milk, I carry everything into the basement. The room brightens up with every switch I flick on, but they remain asleep. Banging either end of the pans against each other vigorously, I walk around Elias and Bianca.

“Time to wake up!” I shout. They both startle awake, their breathing picking up as they find what woke them. “We’re not done here. Don’t you remember when you woke me up like this in the mornings, Mami ?” I pout, before returning to Elias, banging them louder. “Well, welcome to the family Elias. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Tiana…Stop this,” Elias rasps weakly.

I halt my actions to act pensive, the room falling silent instantly. If hope is all he has left, I’ll dangle it in his face. “Maybe I am taking things too far. Fine…All I want you to do is admit what you’ve done wrong and all will be forgiven. Then, If you’re a good boy, I’ll give you two choices.”

A spark of hope grows in his eyes. “Anything. I’ll do anything for you. I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I was wrong for fucking around, I will never cheat on you again. Please, baby.”

For a man with his life on the line, that was the most pathetic excuse for an apology I have ever heard. Cheating was the last straw, but is he seriously convinced he hasn’t done anything else wrong? As if I would ever forgive him based on his meaningless words, much less let him live. Yet, he still disappointed me.

My humorless laugh echoes throughout the room. “Your jaw or your kneecaps,” I say, turning my back to him.

“What?”

“Pick.” I grab my weapon of choice, gliding my fingers alongside the metal’s cool edge. His eyes never leave the hammer when I prowl toward him, circling behind him out of sight.

“I- I don’t know what you’re asking of me,” Elias says with a shaky voice.

Twisting his middle finger to his knuckle until I hear a sickening pop, I shout over his screams. “It will be both if you don’t make a decision.” His finger hangs limply as he writhes in pain, unable to move.

“Ah! T- Th- The…knee,” he whimpers.

Bianca mumbles a rapid prayer in the background, as if anyone could save her now. The one man who has never shown anything but unshakable confidence and intimidation now cowers before me in a blubbering, bloody mess. I love it.

“Bummer,” I say, releasing his hand. Rounding to face him, I commit his features to memory.

This is the Elias I want to remember, not the one who towered over me and hurt me. An image of him forcing me under him invades my thoughts unbidden and it’s all I need to crash down on the first kneecap with all my force. His bone shatters with a painful crunch.

“I fucking hate you,” I choke out.

My voice cracks under the weight of my emotions. I’m supposed to stand strong and tall right now. I can’t let them see me break anymore. The hammer pounds into the same kneecap before going down harder on the other.

“Do you see me now? You will never hurt me again!” I scream.

I don’t stop there. Bianca’s pleas only spur me on the louder they grow. His ankles, his thighs, his pelvis, all of it gets beaten until my arms give out. Blood spurts in violent arcs, soaking through my shirt and onto my skin. It’s only then that I notice I collapsed to my knees. It’s then that I realize Elias is bleeding out so badly that he’s hardly conscious anymore.

Cracking my neck on either side, I twist almost unnaturally to look at Bianca. “You,” I snarl. She clamps her mouth shut as I take a minute by the table to compose myself. I welcome the silence while I pull gloves on my shaky hands. They’re already stained with fresh blood, but I can’t be too careful with all the fluids flying around.

Bianca’s eyes are blown wide, fresh tears streaming down her face as she shakes her head in denial. She knows why I’m doing this. She must remember all the times she force-fed me rotten milk and food, only to turn around and complain about the eating disorder that I have because of her. Bianca was no mother to me.

“Open your mouth,” I grit through my teeth.

“Listen, you can’t-”

I sigh harshly, sounding more like a growl when I get in her face. “No. You listen to me. All my life you have tried to tell me what I can’t do, what I’m not capable of. I’m here to show you what the fuck I’m capable of. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance, because now I’m the nightmare you can’t escape from.” I lean back with a satisfied smile. “Open your fucking mouth, or do I need to drill a bigger hole in your face?”

When her mouth opens to retort, I shove the funnel inside, cocking a brow when she tries to fight it. The putrid scent of the milk has me holding my breath while I pour it down her throat. The reaction is almost instant, pushing back against the funnel until I have to toss it aside and hold her mouth shut with my covered hand.

“Swallow, like the whore you are,” I seethed.

I wait, unmoving until she manages to swallow everything in her mouth. Squeezing her cheeks with extra pressure on the wound, I pour the rest of the curdled liquid over her entire face. Seconds later, I just miss her projectile vomit.

“You…” Bianca says through a cough. Her voice is croaky and hoarse when she speaks again, blood mixed with bile leaking from her mouth and cheek. “You won’t…get away with this.” I roll my eyes, turning away from her and removing my gloves. “ Estás loca! People will look for me and they will find us. What will you do then?” Her voice cracks on the last word, sending her into a fit of uncontrollable sobs.

Her grating voice drives me insane. I’m only crazy because she made me crazy! My palms press over my ears tightly, but nothing drowns out her voice. She won’t shut up. Won’t shut up.

“That’s IT!” I yell, flipping the table over with all the contents crashing to the ground. In one swift motion, I yank the belt around my waist off in the same way she does. Crack! Without warning I whip her relentlessly, my breaths getting heavier with each sharp slap.

“Please…Stop,” Bianca cries in a weak, strained voice. Crack! “You’re…a monster.”

That pulls a crazed laugh out of me. Finally, she’s listening.

“ You are the monster that created greatness through her hate.” Crack! “I let your hatred spread through my veins like the poison it was and take root. After all…I am my mother’s daughter.” When she opens her mouth to get another word in, I continue my assault with her belt. “Why? Do. You. Keep. Talking,” I punctuate each word with a crack, each one harder than the last until I’m sweating from the exertion with a deafening scream. It’s cathartic. “ Púdrete, maldita perra. Rot in hell, bitch. I’m sure they’ll welcome you with open arms.”

Only my mother would use her last breath just to taunt me. “At least…I’ll see…you there.”

With a new twitch in my eye, I rummage through the dusty drawers under the staircase until I find my grandmother’s sewing kit. “You never did know when to shut the fuck up, Bianca,” I say lowly as I approach. “Let me show you what it means to be quiet. You listen to me now.”

Taking the needle with the thickest thread, I slam her head back against the pillar, holding her mouth in place. I pierce through her upper lip and then into her bottom lip, pulling it taut with a painful tug as blood begins to leak down her chin. Bianca trembles from the anguish as I loop the thread from one corner to the other and tie it off, leaving the remaining piece to hang. Tears mix with the crimson dripping from her face as nothing but a faint mumble can leave her now.

Releasing a satisfied sigh, I say, “Perfect. My pretty, bloody doll.”

“What…have you done?” Elias croaks weakly behind me.

Twisting my head to throw a glance at him, I roll my eyes. “Ugh, I thought you died already. Why did you wake up?”

With heaving breaths, he tries to speak, but all that comes out is a hard sigh. Both of my dolls are barely hanging by a thread, soaked in the essence of my rage and stewing in the ripples of my pain. It’s a beautiful sight to see my demons slaughtered. I did that , and all I feel is triumph.

Walking to Elias, I tip his chin up to meet his eyes. “This will all be over soon. Since you’ve been so good for me, you can be the first to die while she watches.” When I turn to grab my favorite knife, I stop short to take in the room.

Oh dear, what a mess.

Side-stepping the pile of junk in my way, I skip up the staircase in search of the butcher knife. It calls my name, leading me to the final pieces of their reckoning. Humming my way to the garage, I locate the big, red jug that will clean this whole mess up for me in a neatly singed present.

At least, that’s the goal.

My grip on the knife tightens when I freeze, the blood draining from my face at finding the door to the basement ajar. I slammed this door shut when I came up, I remember it clearly. The front door is locked and I’m home alone, so how the hell…My eyes shoot to the back sliding door that leads to the garden.

Fuck! Somebody is in here. Somebody knows what I’ve done.

Light, hurried steps take me to my laptop screen, but the feed is dead. I have no eyes down there. With a deep inhale, I hold it in as I creep down the steps silently. How does that saying go? Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, right?

“Help! Please!” Elias uses the last bit of his strength in his begging and it makes my thundering heart pick up speed.

They’ll be dead before they can try to help. It’s time to finish what I started.

Until I see her, and my world comes to a screeching halt. Every last thought in my mind quiets until all I can hear is the air particles around me singing to the melody of my pulse.

Rhea Andino.

The girl who confused my heart, then ran away with it. She left to join the military abruptly five years ago and hasn't been heard from since. I sent many letters that went unanswered, but no matter what I’ve always hoped she was safe wherever she was. Asking Elias about her got me nowhere, like he didn’t know or even care to. Her new tactical fashion look is undeniably sexy with the all-black short-sleeved button-down, combat pants, and boots combo.

Is she really here? I can’t believe it. Rhea, in all her divine glory. She’s beautiful, a stark contrast to Elias. Her features are unique and resemble her mom, whereas Elias is the spitting image of his father. He has a sharp, defined countenance where hers is soft and round, with the cutest freckles sprinkled across her face. Though, now she carries a new air of stoic confidence with her. Even in stillness, she radiates energy—something untamed, something impossible to pin down.

Rhea is a goddess, one that I would spend the rest of my days worshipping if she gave me the time of day. But now? Now that she surely knows I’m responsible for the death of her only brother—no matter how sick that asshole was—she’ll see me as a monster too.

“Rhea, you came for me.” Elias visibly relaxes while Bianca struggles to communicate.

They can’t see me from this angle, but I see them all, frozen to my spot. Rhea’s bitter laughter catches me by surprise.

She sizes him before getting in his face, her emotion unreadable. Golden curls frame her face as she cocks her head, the kind that look soft but probably have a mind of their own. “I don’t believe it. This has to be the best welcome home gift.”

Elias stills, eyes growing wide. “What?” His voice trembles.

“Go fuck yourself, Elias.” Rhea’s cold words shock me. “You deserve to rot in your misery, and watching the light leave your eyes will be the only good memory I’ll keep of you.”

I’ve never heard her speak that way, but who knows what she has experienced these past years. More importantly, what the hell did he do to her? I’m well aware that if I expose myself now, I risk this being a set-up to pull me out of my hiding place, but I need to see her, really see her. I need to touch her and make sure this isn’t a hallucination. I need to know what he did to warrant this reaction from her.

Holding my lungs captive, I inch my way fully down the stairs. Elias and Bianca’s gaze shoots to me, filling with fear. The moment Rhea notices she goes rigid. I take a step closer, and finally, she shifts to face me, forcing my breath to escape me.

When I see her, it’s like an explosion of color and sound. Sky-blue eyes stun me, sending a spark of electricity down to my toes.They hit me like a slow burn—light, sharp, and impossible to look away from. That hasn’t changed after all these years. Neither has the storm of emotions that tear through me when I’m near her.

Her poker face falters, and I know she feels it too.

“Tiana.” My name rolls off her lips like a prayer, as if she’s been waiting for this moment as much as I have.

I won’t let her go this time.