You Belong to Me

Hurt

*authors note*

Hey guys, just wanted to drop a trigger warning for anyone against violence and abuse.

This chapter contains graphic violence.

Please be aware and if those things will bother you or make you upset, please please wait till the next chapter to continue reading.

Thank you 🙏🏻

Kai's POV

I got his name after only one punch.

Granted, I asked for it after I hit him.

His blood sprayed across my knuckles and splashed on my shirt. Mostly the reason why I always wear black.

Francis. But he said I could call him Frank. Well, Frankie here was hired by Cameron to kidnap Evie.

I grabbed him by the tight ropes wrapped around his torso and pulled him back up to face me.

He started crying again.

Begging and pleading for dear life and mercy for his kids who would end up fatherless.

I laughed.

"Maybe you should have thought of your kids before fucking with my group. Do you have any idea- any inkling- of who you just pissed off? Frankie, dear-" I was openly mocking him. "No matter what, this won't end well for you. So I strongly suggest cooperating as much as possible."

He was shaking his head eagerly.

"Please, please don't kill me. If- if it's about the girl- she meant nothing to m-" I punched him again. I could feel the painful sting as his teeth cut into my knuckles but I couldn't care less right now.

What was Cameron thinking? What is he planning?

"Why did Cameron want you to take her?" I asked Frankie.

"He didn't say. Just told me if I brought the girl, he'd pay me a lot of money. My kids, they want to go to college. To Yale-" another hard punch and I actually managed to knock a couple of his teeth out. They scattered across the floor noisily.

I grinned and wound my arm back, preparing for another hit.

I lost track of time. That's not something you really bother with when your victim is completely helpless and has no where to go.

I was sitting in the chair in a corner of the room, admiring my work, icy cold glass bottle of my father's very expensive whiskey in hand. Taking a drink every other minute and watching for any signs of his breathing. So far, I think it's been just over five minutes since he last showed any signs of life. I felt like a cat watching its mouse prey so that it may pounce on it for the finishing blow if it moved again.

His blood slowly pooled out around him, staining the crisp white linoleum tile. It wouldn't be the first time the maids would have to replace that in order to hide evidence. A sudden nerve stung in my hands and I looked down at them, his red sticky life essence was plastered all over my hands and up my forearms. And if I had the use of a mirror, I'd bet even my face would be stained. I used the alcohol in my hand to wash away some of the stains and disinfect my wounds. It burned sweetly. I laid back in the chair, wiping a lock of my hair out of my eyes.

"That bottle was over seven hundred dollars, you know." I heard my father say sternly, disapproving of my wasting his drink.

"I'll buy you another one." That seemed to be my life's motto whenever this man reminds me how much of his money he's spent on me or I've taken and wasted.

"What did you get out of him?" He asked, stepping closer to examine the body. His Italian leather shoe tiptoeing out to nudge the lifeless body.

"Nothing of any use. It seems Banks found him in a Craigslist ad and hired him for a random job. He's a nobody."

But his name was Francis. I called him Frankie.

"Shame. We're still working on Cam in the other room. Come join us." He ordered and marched out of the room, already knowing I had no choice but to follow.

I got up from my chair, grabbed my jacket and followed him into the other room. I saw that Cam wasn't looking much different than Frankie.

He looked like he was just barely grappling on to life by a thread.

Some of my associates were still taking turns working him over. My bosses finally ordered them to stop.

"Now, Cameron. The only reason you will be allowed to live-" Cam sputtered out more blood, coughing it up like it was a reflex at this point. "As I was saying, you are allowed to live, but you're only going to be given one last chance. Bring back our money, plus an additional ten grand, and you're free to go. See? How easy is that?" My father patted him on his already injured shoulder, making Cameron wince. The poor fool had just enough senses to nod his head, acknowledging how fortunate he was right now.

Everyone slowly left the room, leaving me and my father alone.

"Make sure he doesn't take off again." He ordered me, turning around to follow everyone else out. He handed me the silk handkerchief from his pocket square and handed it to me. "You've got blood on you." He said so casually before sauntering out of the room.

I dropped the piece of fabric, not really giving a shit about my appearance. Cameron seemed to have finally passed out now, his breathing coming in ragged. I untied him from the chair and slung him over my shoulder like a weighted sack.

I carried Cameron outside, trustworthy Roy was waiting for me as usual. He popped open the back tailgate of the car so I could dump Cameron's unconscious body inside. I sat in the backseat like normal.

"Where to now?" Roy asked me as he climbed in the drivers seat and buckled himself in.

"Home."