CHAPTER THIRTY

CRYBABY

Screams of pain echoed throughout the room Angeline was inside. She was pretty sure, through her hazy and tear-blurred vision, she saw one of the men guarding the room visibly wince at one of her first cries. It was piercing and loud, like hearing a child scream. Angeline wasn't aware she had the ability to scream so badly, but she couldn't help it with the amount of pain she was in.

She felt like she was going to be sick as Williams carved into her forearm behind her back. Yet again, she'd been flung into the chair and tied to it. They'd stuck a huge t-shirt back over her body and, in a very humiliating fashion, pulled a pair of underwear up her legs, but it was soaked to the brim by cold water, making her tremble.

"Stop! Stop! Please!" Angeline howled, thrashing about.

Hot, thick blood dripped down her wrists, past her fingers and onto the ground. She could feel it, but she couldn't see it. It was a huge contrast to the icy water. Angeline was pretty sure he was writing something into her forearm, but whatever it was, she couldn't make it out. Whether she made it out of here alive or not, she was going to have some very ugly scars to remember it by.

"The codes, Angeline!" Williams growled, "Give me the codes, and I'll stop all of this right now."

"Please!" Angeline sobbed, ignoring him - giving him the codes wasn't an option. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Angeline didn't know why she was apologising, but it felt like a natural reaction. She just wanted the hot flashes of pain and the dragging of the blade to stop. She tried not to thrash too much, terrified he'd go deeper than intended and make her bleed out, but at the same time, death didn't sound too bad right now.

"How about I guess, huh? Does it start with A? B? C?"

In a fit of rage and pain, Angeline spat, "It starts with: fuck you, you fucking wanker."

After all, she figured the pain couldn't get any worse than this. She was wrong. Williams' hand that wasn't holding the knife moved to squeeze her arm, causing her to attempt to kick out her tied legs and more screams to tumble past her raw, broken throat.

"The only way that mouth is going to get you out of here alive, Angeline, is if it's giving me the codes," he replied harshly. "I'm done with your little branding anyway."

She felt him release her, but she was still crying softly at the pain as he walked in front of her, crouching back down slightly.

"Maybe I should start cutting off your fingers now," he muttered, "We're running out of time."

Angeline began to cry harder. "I hope you fucking die the most painful fucking death," she spat.

Williams laughed loudly, thoroughly amused. "Aren't you just the cutest?" He turned towards his men. "Let's get a table over here, yeah?" He looked back at her. "It's a lot easier to cut off fingers on a hard surface."

Angeline knew that he most likely was done with all of the threats. She had realised that when he had beaten her naked body and then carved letters into her arms, letters that she had yet to see. Maybe she'd die without knowing them. That would be good.

Her whole body ached. She tilted her head back, staring up at the ceiling and feeling hot tears cascade down. People were moving around her, setting up a table she was pretty sure, but Angeline tried to block them out. Her brown eyes burned above, nearly blank, her heart pounding. She could feel it pulsating in her wound. A reminder that she was alive and breathing. Surviving.

People moved behind her and untied her hands. Angeline struggled against them, trying to resist with the little fight she had left inside of her. The two large men pinned her arms on the table in front, shackling them back down to the table. Angeline resisted the urge to scream at them all, but did stomp her feet a little against the chair she was tied to, frustrated and exhausted.

Williams sat in front of her. His icy eyes bored into hers, and then she felt something cold against her skin. Angeline glanced down, her gaze first casting to the blade he had grazing across her fingers, and then immediately darting to her blood-drenched forearm. The brunette choked back a gag.

CRYBABY

"Poor little Princess Angeline," Williams mocked, "Pretty skin all damaged. Just a reminder to the people who attend your funeral that you died weak and crying."

Angeline's face scrunched up. How could he have possibly known that that would hurt her the most? How she hated being called a crybaby or a princess or anything of the sort. It reminded her of her father, how he always ridiculed her and made her feel pathetic.

"Nothing to say?" Williams chuckled, "No witty comeback?"

Angeline glared at him. "It's quite hard to come up with them on the spot, you know. Especially when someone has a knife pointed at you."

"I'm disappointed," he said.

"Good," she spat back. "Hurry up, then. Which are you taking off first? Thumb or pinkie? Left or right?"

Williams growled, lifting the knife to her hands. Angeline immediately grimaced, her heart leaping as she tucked her head to the side, not wanting to watch, however, there was an explosion outside the door. Everybody jumped, including Williams, all eyes going straight to the door.

All of the big men sort of looked at each other and Williams.

"Go!" Williams yelled at them all. "Don't just stand around. Figure out what the hell that -"

Gunshots began to sound out everywhere. Angeline lowered her head, wishing she wasn't attached to the table and chair so she could hide herself better. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt sick.

"Grab the girl," Williams hissed at one of the men. "Take her out the emergency exit. You have the keys. I'll make sure Mila is safe and -"

There was a gunshot louder than the rest and Williams was cut off abruptly. His body fell forwards, slumping over the table, right on top of Angeline's arms. She shrieked, flashbacks of Zimmerman flooding her head, and she tried to get him away from her with the limited movement.

She heard the guard behind her hiss a couple of curse words and he stopped trying to get her feet untied. He left her and started to rush towards the other door, but another bullet whizzed through the air, over Angeline's head, and straight into the man's skull.

Angeline's eyes were wide and glassy, horrified even as she stared into the eyes of her big brother. Elliot sent her a small nod, pursing his lips, and then he moved forwards, tucking his gun away and reaching the shackles at the table.

"Ell -" Angeline struggled to find her voice. "Elliot. What - Elliot, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Dad's men have been stationed outside here for a while now," Elliot replied, "Realised it was Williams who had you a little later than dad would like to admit. He thought it was just you and Rapp hiding out again."

"Elliot," she repeated, eyes not leaving him even when her wrists were finally free and he budged her chair backwards so that he could find her ankles.

Gunshots continued to go off outside the room.

"Don't worry about it," Elliot said, "We're getting out of here, Angeline. And dad's going to forgive you for running away. He told me he would if you cooperated."

Angeline began to shake her head quickly. "No, no. He's lying, Elliot. He's a liar."

"No -"

"Elliot, he's going to kill me," Angeline panicked, "I know the codes. He's just told you that so you would cooperate, Elliot."

"It's going to be different," Elliot reassured her, "This - This whole experience will show you how good you have it at home, and dad will try and include you more in the family business, and you don't need to go off to college and be a clinical psychologist or whatever it was."

Angeline was surprised he had been paying attention, but she didn't dwell on that. As soon as her brother had freed her completely, Angeline struggled to get away from him, yanking her arm out of his hand when he reached for her.

"Leave me alone," Angeline warned him. "You're - Dad's a terrorist, Elliot. I'm not getting involved with that, dad knows that. He wants me so he can make sure I'm dead."

Elliot ran a hand through his hair. The gunshots seemed to cease outside and then a couple of people Angeline swore she had seen once or twice in passing entered.

"Mr Lewis, Williams' men have been dealt with. We need to leave immediately to avoid ambush from more of his men, though," the person said.

Elliot glanced towards his sister. "Look. Either you come with me the easy way, and we can get you fixed up and taken to dad, or I'm going to have to get someone to pick you up, Angeline."

Angeline swallowed thickly. "Well, I suppose I'm not going down without a fight then."

Then, there was a shower of bullets. Angeline made sure to duck down properly this time, trying to shield herself by the table, her hand desperately clinging onto one of the legs. Williams' men must have arrived quicker than Elliot and the others had expected.

Elliot shot her a look from where he was hiding behind the table with her, the man from before shooting to protect the two of them. Angeline knew Elliot had always been an idiot. Stupid enough to believe their father back then, and still stupid enough to believe him now.

Angeline closed her eyes and willed her heart to stop beating so harshly. She had to make a decision quickly. Did she want to die at the hands of her father or one of Williams' men? If Darcy was still alive, maybe she would come and finish the job for her dad.

The gunshots made it back into the room. The man that had been covering for them was the last left of Lewis' men and Angeline clenched her fists.

"I've called for backup," Elliot whispered as they listened to the man get shot down.

"Come out from behind the table," an unfamiliar voice said.

Elliot grasped his gun, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Angeline found herself saying nothing as he peeked over the table and shot, a grunt coming from the other side, before a bullet hit Elliot himself.

Angeline shrieked when her brother fell backwards, bleeding out clearly from his chest. She came out of her hiding place, perhaps stupidly, her hands pressing down on his wound to try and stop the rapid bleeding. The blood was warm and sticky, like Zimmerman's had been, and she tried to stop the flashes in her head that reminded her of him.

Her hands shook and she faintly heard people calling her name, a hand grabbing her arm. Angeline shook them off, crying loudly, everything underwater as she tried to help Elliot. Elliot, who was an idiot and a bad person and had very sociopathic tendencies, but also Elliot, who was her brother and had taught her how to cheat in maths exams in primary school and let her play football with him and his friends when hers cancelled on her.

"Elliot, please," Angeline sobbed, shaking him hard when he didn't respond.

It wasn't Zimmerman in front of her anymore, but Mitch. They were in the woods, he was bleeding from his bullet wound, going in and out of consciousness, and she was trying to help him. Angeline had failed. Mitch had died, and now Elliot was dead too.

...

There was blood everywhere. Mila, or Darcy as Angeline had always called her, lay dead among bodies of men who had fought for Williams. Mitch was slightly disappointed that he himself hadn't been the one to put the bullet through her head and watch her blonde locks turn crimson. He'd be thrilled to do it after what she had done to Angeline.

"Rapp," Phelps gasped, rushing forwards. "It was a close one. It - I was right, that was borderline suicidal going in there with just the four of us. Hayes was shot. He's alive, but he needs medical -"

"Angeline, Phelps," Mitch snapped, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt briefly as he passed him in the door frame, diving into the hallway. "Is she really here? Did you find her? Is she -"

"She's with Larson and Hayes," Phelps nodded quickly. "Follow me."

"Is she hurt?" Mitch demanded, his heart pounding so hard now that he swore he could hear it in the air surrounding him.

They passed multiple dead bodies as Phelps led him through the penthouse, down a hallway that was slightly secluded from the rest of the place.

"I'll let you see for yourself."

Before Mitch could angrily demand that Phelps just tell him if she was hurt or not, he found himself stumbling through a door that was like entering a new universe. It was a room with no windows, padding on the walls that made it soundproof to anybody outside it. There was a table that had been tilted sideways, a knife discarded on the ground, Williams dead, another guy dead, and... and Angeline.

Angeline was alive - that much was obvious from how badly she was crying. Her hands gripped hold of the bloody shirt of another man. Mitch's lips parted when he realised she was sobbing over the body of her older brother. It was Elliot.

Mitch felt his heart break a little in a way he wasn't used to. He felt ounces of sympathy at a time, but this was different. He could almost see himself and Milly there on that beach, he could feel the warmth of her own blood as he tried to apply pressure, as people looked at him sympathetically, clutching their own loved ones even closer than before.

"Angeline."

His voice wasn't heard above her sobs. It barely came out as a whisper. Maybe Mitch didn't mean to call for her, maybe he was just confirming it in her head. She was there, she was alive, she was breathing.

That was supposed to be enough for him, but the wounds she clearly sported made him tremble with anger, and if Williams wasn't already dead a few feet away, he would have been tortured into a slow, agonising death.

"Angeline," Mitch repeated, a little louder this time, stepping forwards.

Her head snapped up to face him. He saw her split lip, the light bruising on her cheekbone and the wetness of her dark hair. When their eyes met, when he watched them enlarge in surprise, he felt his heart lurch. It wasn't sympathy or anger like before.

No, Mitch didn't like this. He didn't like that feeling at all.

"We have to go," Mitch said immediately, "Come on."

"Mitch?" Angeline choked, her fingers slowly releasing her brother's shirt.

"Yeah, it's me," Mitch replied, moving closer towards her, his hand finding her elbow as he helped her up to her feet, briefly recognising the fact that she was merely in a large shirt and some underwear. "I'll assess your injuries later, but we have to go now. Backup for either side could be on their way."

"Mitch," Angeline mumbled, her head clearly a mess, her feet barely moving with his own as they tried to move out the door that they had come through.

"Shit!" Larson suddenly burst back through one of the doors ahead. "It's Lewis' men. They're coming up."

"There's gotta be another way out," Mitch muttered.

"This is why I said we should have staked out longer and assessed the building and all it's escape routes -"

"We had no choice," Mitch spat, "Lewis' men raided before us."

Angeline was blinking quickly, her breaths quick and her eyes still leaking tears. Her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts per second, but she managed to clear it for a moment.

"The - the other door," Angeline fumbled for the right words. "Williams mentioned to the other guy in that room, his keys lead out to some - some emergency exit."

"Right," Phelps said quickly, "Come on then."

It was a blur really. Angeline was there, but she wasn't at the same time. She felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack, a mix of everything that had just happened to her, her brother being murdered in front of her, and Mitch fucking Rapp being alive and talking to her like it was no big deal.

The men seemed to do most of the work. Everything was a blur to her. She heard them begin to yell at each other when they struggled with the keys at a certain door, but that felt like it was over in under two seconds, and then they were plunged into the coolness of the outdoors, the bright lights burning Angeline's eyes, and then she was shoved into a car.

Angeline blinked and Mitch was speeding down a road. She swallowed thickly, studying him. Her hand inched to her bare thigh and she pinched it. This wasn't a dream and the blood running down her mutilated arm reassured her that she hadn't just woken up from a nightmare during another one of her and Mitch's road trips.

His eyes were on the road, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white on the wheel. Mitch didn't even look at her, not until she began to sob. The adrenaline was wearing off and her arm hurt, her ribs hurt, everything hurt.

"We'll be somewhere safe soon," Mitch told her quickly. "I can assess your wounds there."

"They told me you were dead," Angeline cried, her weeping like knives to his heart. "I thought you were dead and it was my fault."

Mitch didn't say anything for a few moments. He didn't know what to say. "I'm here," he managed, hoping it sounded at least a little reassuring for her. "I'm right here."

Was she blacking out from the mental pain or the physical pain? Angeline wasn't completely sure, but she was soon in some sort of room in a building she couldn't remember entering. Her entire body trembled as Mitch led her over to a chair, yanking it out and twisting it.

"Sit on it backwards, lean on the back," Mitch told her. "I have to do something first. It's going to hurt, but it's going to save both our asses, okay?"

Angeline merely nodded, obeying Mitch. She felt him brush her hair out of the way, over her shoulders, exposing the back of her neck to him. The cold pads of his fingers pressed to her skin, making her brows momentarily furrow in confusion.

"What's -"

"You have a chip in the back of your neck," Mitch told her immediately, his tone sounding as though he was a doctor and not... whatever the hell they were to each other. "Your father's been using it to track you this whole time. I'm going to get it out, okay? I can feel a hard spot beneath my fingers when I press here. Can you feel it?"

Angeline nodded a little when she felt him dip his fingers deeper into a point at the back of her neck.

"I'm going to have to cut it out of you, Angeline."

"No more," Angeline cried, suddenly turning to face him. "Please, Mitch, I can't do it again. I don't want to do that ever again -"

"I'll try and make it as painless as possible, okay?" Mitch reassured her, but the distance in his eyes seemed to provide Angeline little to no comfort. "And it will be over quickly. I'm not going to be violent, I'm -" Mitch swallowed. "I'm going to take care of you, okay, Angel?"

Angeline's breath hitched before she exhaled in relief, the visible stiffness in her shoulders diminishing ever so slightly. Her hands trembled as they gripped the back of the chair and she turned back around to face away from him. Angeline felt his fingers on her neck again.

"This one should be sharp enough."

Angeline hadn't even heard the others arrive. Or maybe she had but her brain wasn't processing it properly. She was so overwhelmed. Mitch was alive, her brother and Williams were dead, and she was alive. Angeline had been sure she was going to die. She had been preparing for it.

There was a sharp pain in the back of her neck. Angeline grimaced, a small whimper choking from her. One of the other men told her that she was doing well, but Mitch was silent and clinical, making sure he didn't cut her too deep or hurt her or go in the wrong place. Tweezers were then at the back of her neck, and she felt something being pulled from her. It made her cry out in disgust, violating her body.

"Is it out?" Angeline cried. "Did you get it?"

"We got it," Mitch replied, "It's out. You're fine. It was so small I barely had to cut you."

She felt the stinging of rubbing alcohol on the back of her neck, the shock of it making her cry out and grit her teeth again. Angeline knew worse was to come when Mitch eventually saw her scarred arm. That was going to sting like a real bitch.

"We need to move," one of the men said. "Lewis could be tracking that chip right now."

"Let me check the rest of her wounds," Mitch replied.

"No, no," Angeline swallowed, "We can go. It can wait - I want - I want to go."

Mitch stared at her a few moments longer, hazel eyes unsure, and then he gave a firm nod. He picked up all of the medical supplies they had brought and then helped her out of the building and back into the car. Angeline moved to put her seatbelt on, crying out when the rough material brushed against her cuts.

Mitch glanced down, his eyes narrowing. "What's that?" He demanded, grabbing her wrist. "Angeline -"

"He carved it into my arm," Angeline sniffled a little, pulling her arm back from him.

"Fuck," Mitch breathed as he started the car, resisting the urge to punch the steering wheel in front of him as they headed off down a straight road. "Fuck, Angeline. What else did he do to you?"

Memories of being drowned in cold water filled her head, as well as being naked on the floor and having the crap beaten out of her by a grown man. Her ribs still ached, but now that she was thinking about it, it felt so much worse. She thought of Darcy and how she had punched her so hard around the face that it had knocked her down, how she had told her that -

"Ciara," Angeline choked, "Ciara and Paige. Are they - They told me they were dead, Mitch. Please tell me - Please tell me that they were just fucking with me."

Mitch's brows furrowed. "We can check, Angeline. What did they do to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Angeline breathed, her fingers gripping the seatbelt, her wide eyes trained on the scenery outside. "Not right now. Please."

"Okay," Mitch said, "But you will have to talk to me about it soon, okay?"

Angeline didn't reply. Her body wouldn't stop shaking. Every time she shut her eyes, she expected to open them again and to be in that room. Maybe still hunched over her brother, weeping for him to come back to her, wishing that she had saved him from their father sooner rather than allowing him to become so easily manipulated.

Angeline didn't realise her leg had been bouncing so badly until a large hand planted itself on top of it. She nearly flinched away, nearly kicked him off of her, but when his thumb began to brush back and forth in a comforting motion, Angeline suddenly felt safe.

She was safe with Mitch.

...

they're back!!! and so am i. apologies for the long wait guys. i'm going to uni next week so i will probably be really busy again for a while, but dont worry - this book will not be left unfinished. also, I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH, but please dont ask me when the next update is going to be! i get messages like this all the time even on tumblr and instagram and stuff, but i am never sure when the next update will be, and it just lowkey stresses me out a bit. i hope nobody takes that the wrong way because i really love all of your comments and i appreciate your love for this fic so much, but yeah :) hopefully you understand and no worries if you've asked me before, i'm not annoyed don't worry <333

thanks so much for reading <333

word count: 4.0k

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