Dark Layers Volume 2: Dark Layers (28 page)

"Anile, what's wrong?" He asks soft.

I look around to insure we are in a public place so he cannot do anything to me.

"What is wrong? I will tell you what is wrong. There was a dead body found outside of my apartment door today - the body is unrecognizable, but do you know what I did recognize?" I say powerful with raised eyebrows.

"What?" He asks. He releases my arm and stands very still.

"Someone described the body; it was dressed in blue overalls and covered in blood, but the head was covered with a pink cushion cover that had Barbie written in crystals. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

His entire body language changes. Less than two seconds ago he seemed sympathetic, desperate even, and now, he looks mad. He grits his teeth and curls his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut. Something is off with him, I can feel it. While he starts pacing the curb, I make a run for it.

"Where are you going?" He shouts but I do not stop, I run as fast as I can. I run to the end of the street, then down Mead Row.

After five minutes of my lungs burning, sweat dripping down every inch of my body, and my heart almost breaking free from my chest, I stop and gasp for air. As soon as my lungs are healthily filled, the air is knocked out of me by strong arms that grab me.

I try to scream. "Hel-" but someone places their huge hand over my mouth. They cover my eyes with something, shutting London out completely. Only now do I realize, I am in serious trouble.

Chapter Seventeen

IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING
? Oh God - I need to do something, fast.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" I try to scream through the hand that is covering my mouth. I scratch at every available inch of skin. I kick as hard as I possibly can. The person holding me is too strong - I'm defeated. Tears pool at my eyes, wetting the material that is blinding me. I suddenly give up fighting, wondering if this is what my attacker wants - a fighter - I know some sick Bastard's get off on this shit.

Shockingly, my attacker throws me over their shoulder. "Ah!" I huff as I suffer the enduring pain in my tummy from their long strides throwing me up and down. They are making my brain jumble with every step, over and over, it's making my head hurt. I wonder if the person slaughtered at my apartment was meant to be me? Maybe this is the attacker who has me now. This simmering mental torture overwhelms me and I cry more, and more, and more - wondering how my mother is and if I will ever see her again, even my father flutters around in my head. I want to go home to my parents; I need their protection now more than ever.

We must have been walking for at least ten minutes - where could they possibly be taking me? My kidnapper stops and suddenly drops me to my feet. My feet smash against the hard concrete floor. A shooting pain fires through my legs. I nearly wobble on my feet through sheer loss of balance due to the pain - but strangely, my kidnapper grabs my left arm and holds me in place. This strange feeling washes over me - curiosity, at the tenderness of this person, their gentle grip. I try to see if I can recognize a scent, anything, any kind of clue as to who this is - but I am either crap at this blind detective stuff, or I am just so shocked that all my other senses have stopped working all together.

After a few seconds of calmness, the strong hand keeping me upright suddenly disappears from my body. I quickly try to remove my blindfold but tender hands are back on me. They remove the blindfold for me. I am in utter shock as I stare dumbfounded at Castor, Elijah's brother.

"Castor, you sick Bastard!" I shout, "who the fuck do you think you are? What the hell are you doing?"

I stare at his gorgeousness, almost captivated by his beauty. Why do all the Darks men have to be so beautiful and fucked up?

"Hello Pretty, how have you been?" He asks as his powerful eyes command me. I have never felt one sense from him, not an electric feeling, nor a sinister one; maybe that is why I had absolutely no clue as to who he was.

"Strangely, I have had better days." I snap. I try to walk off but he grabs my arm with too much force, "ouch, you're hurting me Cast, let me go!"

He slowly shakes his head, "sorry, Princess, I cannot do that."

"Don't you dare call me that!" I warn with wild eyes.

"Call you what?" He smiles deviant. His lips are full like Elijah's - pale pink and pouty. 

"You know damn well what. Let me fucking go, Elijah is going to kill you!" I scream.

I search my surroundings; he has me in a stinky alley - lovely! It's dark our end of the alley, shadowed, the bright warm sun cannot quite reach us.

"He has to find me first!" He jokes.

His words send shivers down my spine, and now I wish I was still at the cop shop!

"Please Cast, why are you doing this?" I say angelic. Maybe if I can use his like for me to my advantage, he will let me go.

He releases my arm, strangely, letting go slowly, sliding down my arm with his soft fingers. He stays close to me. His golden hair is way out of whack - he's not his usual tidy self. He's dressed in black trousers, shiny black designer shoes and a black hoodie - whoever told him that blend of clothing is okay needs shooting!

He rubs his golden stubbly chin questionably.

"Hmmm, this is a long story, you may want to come back to mine."

"No, please, we can talk here." I beg on trembling legs. I cannot let him take me - I have to do something!

"No we cannot, this is not quite private enough; and you know, I have been dying to have you to myself for a while now."

He aims to grab my arm again but I beg further, "please, don't take me away, please, let's just talk."

"Anile, Pretty, you can either come willingly, or, I will just carry you to my van. Your choice. But you have around, hmmm, twenty seconds to decide." He jokes as he looks at his gold Rolex.

"What? You're putting me on a clock?" I frown. Panic surges through my entire body. I cannot fucking breathe properly! I grab my throat with quaking hands.

"Eighteen." He counts.

Okay, twenty seconds; how can I get out of here?
Knee him in the balls?
No, that will not work, he is huge and it will definitely take more than that to bring him down. Holy shit, he's going to take me and there is nothing I can bloody do!

He walks closer to me with a sinister smile plastered on his face.

"Come on Anile, you know you want to come with me really." He jokes with pouty lips and glowering eyes. I do not find him remotely funny, not in the slightest.

I hold my hands out, why, I do not know, but I do know that I am not going willingly.

"Please Cast, stop, please don't do this!" I beg.

"Get the fuck away from her!" I hear in a roaring scream from the entrance of the alley.

I quickly scan the alley and my chest deflates as my tummy settles. I see Elijah firmly walking towards me.
Thank fucking God!
I stare up towards the heavens - there is a God after all, and right now it's Elijah!

Suddenly - as a last ditch attempt I presume - Cast lunges at me. He knocks us both to the ground. We fall onto a gravelly surface and a soaring pain affects me, my back is killing. I whack Cast as hard as I can but he grabs my hair, pulling my head down to the ground.

"Ouch!" I scream at the pinching sensation against my skull.

He grasps my face while still holding my hair.

"I bet you taste like heaven." He says with gritted teeth.

He disgustingly lays a dirty wet kiss upon my lips. I try to spit him away but he doesn't move off of me. His lips are possessing, thick, they nominate me to be his whore. I want him off of me, he makes me feel strangely dirty, dirtier than Elijah did the first time he left me in that house of hell. Before he's completely finished with me, he tries to grab my crotch area.

"Ahhh!" I cry; not out of pain, but out of sheer horror.

I grab his hand and use all my strength to try and stop him.

"I am going to kill you!" Elijah screams, witnessing everything.

"Get up off the floor, now!" Castor shouts as he pulls me to my feet by my hair. He pulls me up at full force. My scalp stings with a simmering pain. I cry further, knowing I will have to live with the memory of him trying to assault my sex. I will never remove that dirty memory from my mind.

"Please, Cast, you are hurting me." I sob desperately.

"Are you going to make her one of us? Hmmm? Is she going to proceed with the ritual before you marry her?" Cast shouts at Elijah.

"This is your last chance." Elijah warns.

As we both turn to face him, we are met with a shiny silver gun that is pointing directly at Cast - Jesus Christ!

"Elijah." I breathe with wet fluttering eyes.

"Let her go, otherwise, I will shoot you brother." He warns, elongating 'will'.

Cast immediately sets me free. He pushes me a little and I stumble, falling into Elijah. Cast raises his hands up to wave defeat. He owns a sinister smile - flashing only a hint of his teeth.

I clutch at Elijah's waist feeling safe, I finally feel safe. I breathe steadily again; I welcome everything healthy into my brain - oxygen, Darks flu, my thoughts. He has one arm around my shoulder holding me tightly.

"Get in the car Princess, please." Elijah tells me, slowly removing his arm from my body.

"Elijah - no. I do not want to leave you." I beg, worried for him. I clutch at his suit jacket; I cannot let him go - I don't want to!

He stares down at me, narrowing his eyes. A stabbing feeling hits me like a bolt of lightning - I'm scared for him.

"Get, in, the, fucking, car, now!" He screams.

Scared by his words and terrified of Castor, I do as I'm told. I gently let go of my safety net. I run back down the alley as fast as I possibly can and although the sun is shining right into my eyes, I welcome it as appose to the blindfold. I spot Elijah's driver parked at the curb. I run towards him in a frenzy.

"Miss Gooden, are you okay?" Jonathan asks as he gets out of the car. He looks panicked.

"Please," I say out of breath, "Elijah, he has a gun. And Castor." Is all I can manage.

In no time at all, he's running down the alley towards them both. I open the car and fall into the back seat. I take steady breaths to calm myself and relish in the safety and comfort of my surroundings. Holy shit, I do not think I can take much more of this craziness! I *sigh* and deflate all at once, knowing that I am now safe.

I WAKE AND
immediately scan my surroundings. Where the hell am I? I lean over to the bed side cabinet and see Elijah's mother in a beautiful gold picture frame. I'm in Elijah's bed - ohhh God! Off balance, I feel off balance, like, 'how the hell did I get here'? I sit up and as the soft cream duvet falls off of me, I see bruises all over my arms and remember what has happened. How the hell did I fall asleep? It must have been out of sheer exhaustion - emotionally and physically. And I'm bloody naked! I frown while peering down at myself. Ugh. I see a crisp white shirt hung over the bottom of the bed. I climb out of bed and stand steadily on the soft beige carpet. I grasp the shirt and dress myself in it. Hmmm, it smells fresh out of the washing machine, and it's so soft.

"Elijah," I call while buttoning myself up, "Elijah?"

Please let him be here! I cannot handle another texting round, and then to end up with another day like today.

I gaze around his bedroom and it shocks me like his house did, but, this seems more like Elijah. The focal point is the centred mahogany four poster bed, carved into an ornate design. The bed posts are huge, thick and solid - like Elijah. The bedding is soft vanilla cream with golden floral patterns. The pillows are plush and soft - there are three for each side of the bed. The walls are beige and grand with dark wooden panelling at the bottom half of the walls. There are pictures everywhere; golden pictures with his mother, father and brother, covering all the top half of the walls and the bedside cabinets. They are not in controlled order as you would expect; all the frames are different sizes and dotted all over the place. They look nice this way. The oak windows are open; the breeze from outside is blowing the full length soft silky nets towards me - it's just captivating; it looks heavenly. Thankfully, the sun is still shining, so I still have hope for today yet.

"Elijah." I call once more.

He comes rushing in through the bedroom door.

"Princess, are you okay?"

I stare up at him, losing myself in his blue lagoons. He looks beautiful - worried with too many frown lines - but beautiful with rosy cheeks. He's dressed in dark grey tracksuit bottoms that hang off of his hips. He's naked from the waist up. His body is perfectly ripped and tanned - I damn well know he works out by his tightly carved tummy. His hair is tussled and wet, shower fresh. Hmmm, he looks yummy. I gaze down at his feet - they are naked also and perfect like the rest of him. Who the bloody hell has nice feet? I shake my head unknowingly.

A now familiar desire washes over me. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm becoming fucked up - along with him - how can I feel aroused after what has happened today?