REVENGE WITH LOVE : CHAPTER 101 – 110
By Presh Alicia Daisy.
CHAPTER 101 & 102.
THE DARK SKY OF HELPLESSNESS.
“On second thought, hold on for a moment.” Raymond directed to Tony, “I’m rather indecisive about what to do first.”
“Should I fuck her first, or should I start with creative arts?” he mused aloud, as if engaged in a conversation with himself.
As he spoke, he still grinded his filthy body against hers. Tesiera wished she could get her hands around his neck, she wished she could do anything at all.
Take your mind away from here. Think of something else.
That would be a great way to get away from this torture, but unfortunately, her mind wasn’t co-operating. It simply zeroed in on the fact that someone had her helpless on the bed and was about to either cut her up or rape her body brutally.
“You know, I have plans to create art…a lot of it.” Raymond said to her, “Perhaps I should start from that, or I could do both at the same time, what do you think?”
He waited a moment. Then he laughed, shaking his head, “Sorry, I forgot you can’t speak. Well, I suppose I’ll make the decision for us.”
Then, he pulled away from her. Crossing the room, Raymond retrieved a knife from a nearby table. Returning to the bed, he climbed onto it and positioned the blade perilously close to the faint bullet scar on her thigh.
“Ah, the beauty of soft skin. One of the perks of being a woman.” he drawled as he plunged the dagger into her flesh, piercing deep until it reached the bone beneath.
He paused, and cocked his head in thought, “No bone, not yet. Gotta make this last first,” he mused.
With the dagger still deeply embedded in her skin, he pulled it down, slicing her thigh open. A cascade of blood followed, creating a crimson trail as he monstrously “drew” on her.
Tesiera was engulfed in a searing agony that left her struggling to catch her breath for what felt like an eternity. The pain was so excruciating that beads of sweat erupted across her skin. Yet, she made no sound at all.
Her tear-filled eyes remained fixed on Raymond’s hand, glaring hard as it etched an indistinct shape on her skin—a shape that seemed to resemble a triangle.
“All that red… So beautiful to see,” Raymond whispered with reverential tone as he observed the pool of blood forming beneath her. However, his expression quickly soured. “But it’s a bit too much.”
“Fetch the tapes, Tony. I’m not allowing her to bleed out, not yet.” he ordered sharply before turning his attention back to her. Raymond clicked his tongue, smirking, “Nice try. You won’t escape me that easily, honey.”
Tony complied and produced the tape. The sound of it being torn from the roll resonated through the room. With a deliberate, torturous pace, Raymond began to wind the tape around the wound.
The adhesive on the tape was exceptionally strong, causing it to cling tenaciously to her skin, even amidst the blood. The intense pain was blinding, momentarily washing Tesiera’s vision in a stark white.
The pain was almost unbearable, yet, she suppressed her cries, not making a sound.
Raymond’s face contorted with frustration. He let out series of curses, his anger mounting as she continued to defy his expectations by maintaining her agonizing silence.
“You’re not giving me any music, damn it!” he seethed. “Cry, scream, do something!”
Tesiera’s only response was a fresh welling of tears, her eyes fixed on him with a defiant glare.
In a fit of rage, he crawled closer and delivered a brutal slap to her cheek that reverberated through the room. “Cry!” he barked, the demand punctuated by a relentless barrage of slaps raining down on both sides of her face.
As a Torturer, Tesiera was all too familiar with the pleasure derived from a victim’s wails, she knew personally the enjoyment…the entertainment a victim’s cries bring to the person delivering the torture.
That knowledge was precisely why she was determined to deny him that satisfaction, even if it meant inviting more torture upon herself…even if it meant enduring unbearable pain. With any luck, it’ll push him over the edge and he’d kill her faster.
Tesiera couldn’t keep track of how many times he struck her, her ears ringing, her face growing heavy and sore. Yet, she remained silent.
“That’s how you wanna do it, huh?” His fury unabated, Raymond seized her ankle and twisted it with a vicious force.
A sickening crack filled the air, the unmistakable sound of her leg breaking.
It hurts…badly. Tesiera’s teeth sank into her lower lip until she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood. It was all she could do to hold back the scream that has built at the back of her throat. Her eyes burned with tears, her heart burned with hatred for this man.
“Scream!!!” he roared, his voice echoing with rage as he gripped her broken leg. He squeezed hard until all Tesiera could see, all she could breathe, was excruciating agony.
All of a sudden, a loud crash broke the silence as the suite’s door flew open. In an instant, everything went into a frenzy. Raymond’s bodyguards reached for their guns and started heading for the bedroom door. They didn’t get far, though.
Two figures stormed into the room with lightning-fast moves. They wielded stun guns and Tasers, knocking out the guards in seconds. Tesiera’s vision was blurry, and she couldn’t see the figures clearly. She was also trying so hard not to pass out from the pain coursing through her body.
Raymond jumped up in panic, but a strong hand grabbed him. A familiar voice filled the room with anger. “YOU BASTARD!!” The voice was unmistakable.
“Kracus,” Tesiera whispered as she felt a rush of emotions all at once—relief, happiness, and most importantly, a profound sense of safety.
Kracus had come for her. He had actually come to rescue her.
Something inside her broke. She heard a woman’s voice weeping, and it took her a moment to realize that it was her own voice.
Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision, cleansing her soul. She was safe.
She was finally safe, because Kracus had come to rescue her.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you, shhh,” Kracus’s soothing voice whispered directly into her ear. In an instant, he appeared by her side, his powerful arms tenderly enveloping her frail form as he gently lifted her from the bed.
The moment she was cradled against him, the familiar scent of him washed over her, filling her senses with a profound sense of comfort and security. She inhaled deeply, as though the essence of him could replenish her strength, as though she needed it more urgently than oxygen itself.
It felt like he could sense her unspoken desperation, pressing her face against his solid, chiseled chest.
“I’m so sorry, baby, so sorry I was late,” Kracus’s voice quivered with remorse as he peppered her face with tender kisses, avoiding the areas marred by swollen bruises. His embrace around her tightened, his own frame trembling with a mixture of relief and sorrow.
No, you weren’t late. Tesiera wanted to reassure him, but her body remained unresponsive. It only allowed her the faintest movement of her lips, a breathy attempt at communication. However, the soft sobs of a female voice still hung in the air around them, tears streaming down her eyes.
Kracus’s own body was shaking. His throat constricted by a rush of emotions too potent to put into words. His gaze fell upon all the blood that stained her, and his heart squeezed tight in his chest.
He knew from the moment he had laid eyes on her helpless form on that bed, with that sadistic sonofabitch hovering over her, that she had been paralyzed. His arms tightened around her fragile, naked figure, his chest heaving with a shuddering breath.
The image of her battered state would be etched into his memory forever.
As Kracus cradled Tesiera in his arms, the room reverberated with agonizing screams…the anguished cries of men. His unwavering gaze remained locked on the woman in his embrace.
Kracus didn’t need to divert his attention to know what was happening, he could sense the primal fury emanating from Bose. He could hear Bose’s fierce attack on Raymond James and his guards. His angry snarls and the satisfacting sounds of a knife making brutal contact—repeatedly—with flesh filled the air.
The sound of Tesiera’s soft weeping was threatening to break him apart. It was killing him from within.
He buried his face onto her neck and simply held her, “So sorry, sweatheart.”
To think that they’d waited anxiously for her signal, completely unaware that she’d been trapped and paralyzed by their target. The very thought of it was like a dagger to his soul, twisting and turning, mercilessly plunging into his core.
The torment of knowing that a strong woman like Tesiera was enduring such horrors while they’d waited at the gala pressed heavily upon him, clawing at his insides as he stood there, listening to the sound of her cries.
She must have felt so helpless, so suffocatingly defenseless. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like, for a woman like her.
“Please!!! Please, I’m sorry!!” Raymond’s desperate pleas pierced through Kracus’s daze.
“Does it feel good!? Tell me, it must feel so damn good, doesn’t it!?” Bose’s voice dripped with rage as he snarled at Raymond.
Kracus turned towards the scene. Bose had wrapped the same tape that Raymond had used on Tesiera’s injured thighs to form a brutal chokehold around Raymond’s neck. The once-confident man now gagged and gasped for air, his struggles futile as Bose continued strangling him using the tape.
“Feels heavenly, doesn’t it!?” Bose hissed as he picked up the dagger on the bed and began to carve into Raymond like a butcher working on a piece of meat. “How dare you lay a hand on her like that!?”
At that moment, a chilling question haunted Kracus: Had Raymond raped her?
Dread filled him and tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He lowered his gaze to the woman whose face was still buried against his chest. Tesiera’s body still trembled against his, and in that moment, he found himself confronted by a torrent of emotions he had never imagined before.
For the first time in his life, Kracus had the overwhelming urge to commit cold-blooded murder. It surged within him, a dark desire to see Raymond suffer. He yearned to string him up on a pole and carve into him like a chicken…to kill the monster over and over and over again.
Kracus had always believed in justice, in the rule of law, but now, for the first time in his life, that conviction was killed by an overpowering need for vengeance. The taste for murder was a primal need clawing inside him.
Howver, even in the face of this overwhelming bloodlust, Kracus clung tightly to Tesiera, refusing to let her go for even a second. The need to protect her, to provide comfort in her moment of agony, overrode his own overpowering instincts for retribution.
Instead, he took satisfaction in watching Bose kill the man in the most excruciating way.
The once pristine bedroom was now a gruesome scene, blood splattered across every surface, and the lifeless forms of two guards lay in tatters upon the floor. But, the most horrific sight awaited on the bed, where Raymond’s now lifeless body lay like a scene out of a horror movie.
Raymond had been torn apart, his limbs scattered around like mangled puzzle pieces. Their job here was done.
“We’ve taken more time, let’s go,” Kracus was glad when his voice emerged strong despite how he felt on the inside.
Bose’s attired was covered with blood. He dashed toward the closet and ravaged through it. He retrieved fresh suits and hastily put them on, discarding his stained clothes. Then, he withdrew a bathrobe, and extended it to his boss.
Kracus took it, wrapping it around Tesiera’s vulnerable, naked form, to provide her with some semblance of modesty. That done, they hurriedly exited the suite.
“Check in with Clinton,” Kracus instructed Bose as they moved.
Bose immediately activated his communicator. “Clinton?”
“Everything’s great here. The target?” Clinton’s voice crackled over the device.
“Eliminated. Did the honors myself. You know what to do,” Bose replied, flatly. Clinton was in charge of their exit strategy.
“Of course. On it. Wait—you said you did the honors yourself? And Tesiera let you?” Clinton’s incredulous tone resonated over the channel.
Bose exchanged a meaningful look with Kracus, whose jaw tightened with a mix of emotions. They both cast their gaze upon the battered woman Kracus held tightly in his arms. Tesiera had stopped weeping, and for that, Bose felt a deep sense of relief.
The heart-wrenching sound, knowing that it emanated from her, had been incredibly heartbreaking. Bose had allowed that anguish to stoke the flames of his rage as he mercilessly unleashed the fires of hell upon Raymond. And he’d enjoyed it, immensely.
Seeking Kracus’s permission to tell Clinton, Bose shot him another meaningful look, and in response, Kracus gave his a nod of approval.
“He got to her. She’s in a bad state.” He admitted to Clinton.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Clinton raged, furiously. “Let’s get out of here; I’m waiting with the car already.”
**********
REVENGE WITH LOVE : CHAPTER 101 – 110
Minutes later, they huddled together in the car, the engine’s roar echoing the urgency of their escape. Clinton was driving. He pushed the vehicle to its limits, white-knuckled and driven by an unwavering determination as he sped through the night as if their very life depended on it.
Kracus occupied the backseat, Tesiera cradled against him. He held her body like a fragile bundle as she slipped in and out of consciousness. Her fingers clung tightly to his chest in a strong grip born, as if she was in a desperate need for connection…an unspoken plea for reassurance.
The only visible indication that she had shed tears lay in the glistening path of dried saline tears that trailed down her cheek. She was losing too much blood. While the tape Raymond had used to torture her had attempted to slow down the bleeding, it wasn’t doing much for the deep gash.
“When will we reach the hotel?” he inquired.
“Approximately thirty minutes, sir,” Bose replied from the front passenger seat.
“Step on the gas, Clinton, she’s losing too much blood,” he ordered, his thoughts on his essential medical supplies.
For once, Kracus found solace in the fact that he carried his extensive medical bag everywhere. He had packed it to the brim for this trip, in case of emergencies like this.
“Understood, Boss,” Clinton affirmed and accelerated.
As Kracus’s eyes scanned Tesiera’s unconscious features, he pondered how his life had led to this very moment. Just six months earlier, he would never have imagined that a woman would come into his life with intentions to kill him, but instead find a place in his heart instead.
Following his past relationship with Mira, he had sworn off getting attached again, at least for a considerable period. It felt as though he had a knack for attracting the wrong kind of women; most of his exes appeared good but later revealed themselves to be filled with deceit, pretense, and plain wickedness.
Perhaps that’s why he had found himself quickly becoming attached to this woman, he mused, observing her fluttering eyes.
In a world saturated with dubious, complaining, and pretentious women, Tesiera was everything none of his exes ever were. She was real, brave, strong, and so damn bold. She was brutally honest, a “what-you-see-is-what-you-get” kind of woman.
What he felt for her had begun as mere fascination. Then turned into attraction, but now, Kracus knew it was something way deeper.
“Have you checked for a shortcut to the hotel?” Kracus spoke up once more.
“Yes, boss,” Clinton replied, glancing at Kracus in the rearview mirror, noticing the tension on his lips. He knew it wasn’t the answer his boss was hoping for, and he winced apologetically.
“I’ll search again,” Bose said, pulling out his phone once more.
Tesiera’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused and filled with panic. “Doc?” she whispered softly, her voice trembling.
“Hey, sweetie, I’m right here. Stay with me,” Kracus murmured, his touch tender as he wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Her eyes found his face, and relief washed over her. “Kracus,” she breathed, her voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and trust.
“Yes, baby, I’ve got you,” he reassured her, leaning in to gently kiss her forehead.
The redness from the slaps on her cheeks was starting to fade, replaced by a deepening shade of purple. Kracus clenched his jaw, his memories of what Raymond had done to her fueling a simmering anger.
Keep it together, Kracus, for her. He repeated the mantra to himself, willing his emotions under control.
“I’ve got you,” he said once more, a vow in his voice.
“Hold me,” Tesiera whispered, nuzzling closer to him, her plea filled with vulnerability. “Don’t let me go…please.”
“Never,” he assured her, his voice unwavering…his heart aching.
As her eyes fluttered closed again, and she slipped back into unconsciousness.
REVENGE WITH LOVE : CHAPTER 101 – 110
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