Chapter 62: Get away from me!.

I rev the drill and bury the tip into his arm, pushing the drill down into bone and cartilage.

Hysterical cries fill the room.

I press down on the drill hard, only when I’m satisfied with the damage and his screams do I let up and step back.

The man breathes heavily, his head dropping forward in a loop.

I wait.

Seconds pass then I hear a laugh.

Quiet at first and almost breathless.

I frown.

The man slowly raises his head. He’s smiling.

"I hear congratulations are in order."

His voice is rough.

"Congratulations?"

He gives a weak laugh.

"Your new wife. The Luciano bitch."

His smile grows wider.

"She’s quite the prize."

My fingers curl slowly at my sides.

"I suggest you choose your next words very carefully."

He coughs.

Then looks directly at me.

"Would be unfortunate if something happened to that pretty little..."

He pauses, then makes a show of licking his lips.

"...cunt."

My jaw clenches. And suddenly, that calm I had moments ago is gone as rage like no other fills me, stealing all rational thought from me.

I reach beneath my shirt and pull the gun from my waistband.

Jeremiah says my name but I don’t hear him.

I can’t help it, he has to pay for spewing such filth about my wife.

The prisoner realizes too late that he’s pushed the wrong nerve when two shots crack through the room.

The man screams and jerks against the restraints.

Silence follows.

I lower the gun slowly, my breathing heavy.

My entire body is tense.

Jeremiah stares at me.

"Great now you’ve killed him."

"He won’t die, I made sure not to hit any major nerves. We have atleast 30mins with him before he bleeds to death. I’ll get the information we need before then."

I turn my attention back to the prisoner.

He is bleeding badly....he wanted a reaction, he got one.

I step closer until I’m standing directly in front of him.

"You don’t get to speak about her like that."

The man looks at me through pain, fear and hate.

Such a lovely combination.

I lean closer.

"And you definitely don’t threaten what belongs under protection.You understand?"

He nods through tear filled eyes.

"Perfect. Now let’s get you talking."

I say picking up the pliers.

————

Nerissa’s POV

My head is killing me. I groan into the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the darkness will somehow make the pounding disappear.

It doesn’t.

If anything, it gets worse.

"Fuck."

My mouth feels like I swallowed a handful of sand.

My stomach feels unsettled, my entire body feels heavy.

I slowly open my eyes.

Sunlight is pouring through the curtains like it has a personal vendetta against me.

Who the hell invented mornings?

I squint at the window and immediately regret it.

It’s too bright, way too bright.

I drag the blanket over my face.

Never again. I am never drinking again.

Ever.

I don’t care if someone puts a gun to my head.

I will not drink.

Okay.

Maybe that’s a lie.

But right now, with my head pounding like someone is hammering nails into my skull, I am very serious about it.

I shift beneath the blanket, trying to find a comfortable position.

My body aches in places I don’t even understand. I stretch my arms above my head, wincing when my shoulders complain.

I shift toward the warmth beside me, It’s comfortable, warm and soft.

I snuggle closer for a few seconds, my eyes closing again.

This is nice....Very nice.

Then my sleepy brain catches up.

Wait.

Warmth?

I freeze.

There is someone beside me.

My heart stops.

Lysander?

I practically launch myself out of the bed.

"AHHH!"

I hit the floor with a loud thud. My legs kicking instinctively as I scramble backward.

"Get away from me!"

The person on the bed jerks upright.

"Nerissa?"

My heart is pounding hard.

I point at the bed.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?!"

The figure blinks at me. Then the person sitting up rubs their eyes.

And that’s when I realize...It’s not Lysander.

It’s Isabella.

I stare and she stares at me.

Then I look around the room.

Oh. My. God.

My face burns.

"Oh my God."

Isabella starts laughing.

"I’m so sorry!"

I cover my face.

"I thought you were your brother."

She laughs harder.

"Shit!"

I drop my hands.

"I genuinely thought Lysander was in my bed."

"Clearly."

She wipes at the corner of her eye.

"Your scream almost killed me."

"I’m sorry!"

I groan.

"This is so embarrassing."

"It’s okay."

She laughs again.

"I understand."

Then she bursts into another fit of laughter.

I glare at her.

Then I hear a soft snore, i slowly turn around.

There is another body lying on the other side of the bed.

I stare.

"Is that Victoria?"

Isabella nods.

"Yep."

I blink.

"She slept here?"

"Apparently."

I stare at Victoria, she is completely unconscious.

Isabella shrugs.

"She can sleep through a hurricane."

I look at the woman again.

"That’s impressive."

"It really is."

I slowly sit on the edge of the bed. The movement sends a sharp pulse through my skull and I wince.

"Fuck."

Isabella looks at me.

"How do you feel?"

I give her a deadpan look.

"Like a thousand cars ran over me."

She laughs.

"Especially my head."

"That’s expected."

I groan.

"I hate you."

"No, you don’t."

"I do."

"You had fun."

I think back.

Lysander.

Oh God.....I threw up on his shoes!

My stomach turns and I put a hand over my mouth.

"Don’t."

"What?"

"Don’t remind me of anything."

She raises both hands.

"Okay."

I close my eyes.

"I am never drinking with you two again."

Isabella grins.

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"I’ll remind you."

"Please do."

She laughs.

Then stands from the bed and stretches.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Downstairs."

I look at her suspiciously.

"Why?"

"I’m going to have Linda make you something for the hangover."

"Linda?"

"Our house keeper. She’s amazing."

I groan.

"She’ll fix you right up."

"I hope so."

Isabella walks toward the door, i glance down at myself.

My clothes from last night are still on, my hair probably looks like a bird built a nest in it.

And I smell...I sniff my shoulder and Immediately regret it.

"Oh, God."

Isabella looks back.

"What?"

"I smell like shit. I need a bath."

"Definitely. I was going to tell you but...."

I grab a pillow and throw it at her. She catches it, laughing.

"Okay, okay. I’ll see you downstairs."

She opens the door.

"Wait."

She turns.

"What?"

I point toward Victoria.

"Are you just going to leave her here?"

Isabella looks back at her friend.

"She’ll wake up eventually."

"Eventually?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Probably next year."

I laugh despite my headache.

"Poor girl."

She walks out and I wait until the door closes behind her before I fall back onto the bed.

My head throbs again from the movement.

I stare at the ceiling.

Last night was officially a disaster.