Page 7

Aries

“The court rewards full custody of Rayne Clark to Aries Clark. It will award Ms. Malott one afternoon per week with the child under the supervision of Mrs. Nancy Malott, Mr. Clark, or Mr. Boone Davidson. A thirty-day suspension of Ms. Malott’s visitation will follow any failure of the mandatory weekly drug screenings. At which time, the court will perform a second drug screening and if Ms. Malott passes, we will reinstate her visitation.”

The bang of the judge’s gavel echoes throughout the court, and Boone and I wait for him to exit the courtroom before speaking.

The second he does, I turn to Boone and just as my mouth opens, Tana’s screaming interrupts us. Her arms fly around her and the only thing stopping her from leaping over the table is her mother, Nancy.

“You stupid son of a bitch! How dare you take my child from me! You will regret the day you crossed me, you sorry sack of shit.”

A huff of laughter escapes me, and I make my way around the table and toward the exit. I stop just in front of the small wooden gate and look over my shoulder at her. “Rayne needs a mother in her life and that will always be my number one priority. But you need to get sober and think about what truly matters. Until that is your daughter, I have nothing else to say to you. Goodbye Tana. Nancy, see you next weekend.”

I don’t stick around to hear Tana’s rebuttal; she screams at me as I walk out of the courtroom. My little girl is with a random social worker and I need her back safely in my arms, where she belongs.

Unfortunately for me, I had no idea what was waiting for me just a few short weeks after that successful day.

I shake my head to rid the thoughts from the first day of my ticket to hell and let my attention fall back to the water dripping on the floor from a leak in the ceiling.

Two months. Two miserable months I’ve been stuck in this damn cage.

Gone are the days when I stayed up retracing my steps, trying to figure out how the hell I ended up here because it grew pointless after a while.

I had tried to find where I missed a signal that would have blared flashing red lights that this was coming, but I came up empty every time.

My mind then wandered to what my fate would be like inside this gilded cage.

Every day is the same.

A masked man comes, tosses a bottle of water at my face, along with a peanut butter sandwich. He then proceeds to spew words that make me believe a lobotomy would be less painful.

And if I’m lucky, after hours of mental torture, he delivers a swift kick to my head, allowing me to pass out instead of staying up for days, dwelling on the fact that this is my new future.

I have tried to predict his patterns in hopes I could tune him out, but do you know what they say about trying to predict the future?

Don’t.

Don’t try to guess. Don’t try to force an outcome. Don’t make an effort to change the path that you are destined to be on.

Why?

Because life, fate, and the universe will come in and make a mockery of you by changing the entire game.

Or, in my case, my masked nemesis will change the topic from my daughter that I let slip through my hands to Braveheart and the family that falls under my protection.

Boone, Tucker, Zoro, Indy, Reagan, Taylor, or any of the loyal members of Braveheart.

Raynie seems to be the psycho’s favorite topic, but oddly, Boone and Taylor are close behind.

I have no idea why or how this dickhead knows the inner workings of the club that I fought Landon Hayes tooth and nail on to build as strong as it is.

I wish I had the energy to dig and read between the lines, but I don’t.

Whoever this is, they are very calculated with their words and know exactly what to say to throw me off if I even try to question anything.

As if I conjured the devil himself, footsteps sound on the wood stairs and a man dressed in all black head to toe, the only color coming from the white mask decorated with a painted crimson smile, appears in front of the cage.

“Hello Aries. Sleep well?” His robotic voice filters through the cell and I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response and stare down at the ground.

The sound of metal scraping against concrete rings in my ears and I don’t bother looking up even when his shoes come into view.

“Aww. Big man scared today?”

I grunt and keep my eyes on the ground.

I watch as his foot lifts in slow motion and comes up to my chin at full force, my head flying backward and smacking against the concrete wall.

It feels as if he’s knocked all the air out of me, and before I can recover, his gloved hand grips my face, forcing me to look at his masked face.

“When I speak, you fucking look at me, you sorry sack of shit!”

The man’s rancid breath filters through the mouth of the mask and bile rises in my throat.

“Maybe I would if you used a breath mint.”

I don’t even try to brace myself for the kick to my ribs as the words leave my mouth. And because I’m a sadistic piece of shit that knows I’m never leaving this hellhole, I smile up at him through the coughing and say, “Touchy subject? Sorry. I’ll be sure to do it again later.”

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and punches me in the bicep before dragging a stool over, his hands bracing on his knees.

The white and crimson mask stares deep into my soul, the same face that has been haunting all my nightmares.

“I really hope you don’t speak to your crew like this. If you do, I can see why no one has come for your sorry ass.”

He waits for my response, but I don’t give it to him.

“Oh c'mon, tough guy. Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about why you’ve been stuck down here for months and no one has even attempted to rescue you. Have you ever stopped to think it's because everyone is happier without you? That maybe I did them a favor by taking you off their hands?”

My teeth grind and I feel my fingernails digging into my palm.

His head tilts to the side. “Didn’t like the sound of that? How about this? I’ve checked on your little friend, Taylor. She’s got great legs, by the way. Please tell me you’ve tapped that little ass? I’m sure she’s fun to toss around.”

Unable to stop myself, I let out a low growl. “Shut the fuck up.”

A maniacal laugh falls from the mask, and I want to put a bullet through his head.

“What? Mad that I found out about your little girlfriend? Oh wait. She’s not your girl, is she? At least that's what I’ve heard. So that means she’s free.” He sits back in the chair and strokes his gloved hand over his chin. “Maybe I’ll have to go give her a test ride. Claim her as mine and toss her aside like the garbage she is. After all, she needs to be punished for even associating with someone like you. But I think it will be fun. And of course, when I dump her body after I wreck her little hole, I’ll be sure she knows you are the one to thank.”

All I see is red. My arms rip and tug at the chains, the wounds on my wrist ripping open. “LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

I’m going to kill him. I’m going to rip his head from his body and shove it up his ass.

My eyes close and all I see is him on top of a screaming Taylor. His words replay in my mind like some messed up movie.

Laughter echoes throughout the cage, and my eyes fly open just in time to see him standing. “Have a good rest of your night, Aries. I’m off to find me a pretty little black-haired girl covered in butterflies.”

“NO! Leave her alone. Whatever game you’re playing doesn’t involve her. If your end goal was her, you should have killed me already. Actually fucking do it. Kill me. I’ll go without a fight. Just leave my team and Taylor alone.”

Any other day I wouldn’t give in this easily, but it’s been two months. This cage is my future and I will not be getting out of here until my heart stops beating. So if the last thing I can do is save my team and Taylor, I will do anything to stop him.

He stares down at me for a moment before moving to stand at my feet and crouches down to level his masked gaze with mine. “If you think you have any control or say in what goes on outside of your cage, you’ve got it all wrong. Your pathetic life is at the mercy of me. I control you. I decide your fate. You made this mess and I will be sure anyone that I take as punishment for knowing you understands it is all your fault.”

I expect him to deliver a blow to my face or ribs, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands and walks out of the cage.

As the sound of the metal scraping on the ground and the locks engaging echo through the dark room, all I can feel is guilt.

I glance down at my tattered jeans and say the words I wish I could say to the bright-eyed girl I would give anything to see in this moment. “I’m sorry, Hellhound. Please forgive me. Hope to not see you on the other side.”

I spend the next few hours fighting sleep, but eventually exhaustion and pain overwhelm my senses.

As I drift off to sleep, Taylor’s face fills my mind and my heart breaks for the thousandth time.

And just before my mind goes blank, I send up the same wish to the universe that I have done for the past month, except this time adding in one extra wish.

Let this be my final time I go to sleep because I’m tired of existing on this fucked up timeline. Keep Taylor safe. She has been through enough. And if this omen is too late, give her the strength of all the men that wronged her to fight off one more.

Fight Hellhound. I miss you.