If You Were Ours

Chapter Thirty One - Kinsley

Kinsley ~

My eyes fluttered open as the credits rolled on our movie. Dane must have been just as tired as I had been because he was still sleeping soundly next to me on the massive couch.

I sat up and pressed play for the next movie in the trilogy we'd decided to watch. The surround sound boomed around me causing Dane's eyes to open slightly.

"You okay?" He asked in a groggy voice that was thick with sleep.

"Yeah, I'm gonna run to the bathroom before the second movie starts." I said quietly.

"Okay baby." Dane mumbled, closing his eyes again and raising his arm, releasing me from his hold.

The tiled floor was cold on my bare feet as I made my way to the small bathroom next to the media room, grateful for a break from the sound of the movie that Dane had cranked up ridiculously loud.

I stood and washed my hands, but jumped when I heard a muffled scream echo from down the hall.

What the hell was that?

Opening the bathroom door slowly, I peeked my head around the door frame and listened through the quiet. Another scream.

"Dane?" I called out quietly, but got no response.

I reached out and pushed the media room door open, revealing Dane still sound asleep on the couch.

Another scream bounced off of the tile floor and hit my ears, causing me to whip my head to the right.

It's not Dane and it's not the movie. Is Tyson home? Is he screaming?

My feet moved quickly and silently down a hall that I'd never explored before until I followed the sound to a door.

Another scream.

My curiosity was overpowering my fear and I quietly grasped the handle and turned it, revealing nothing but a staircase.

The basement. Someone's screaming in the basement.

Tyson kept his word and must have been in the basement with the men who had trashed my apartment. I felt my heart rate pick up as another loud gut wrenching scream floated up the stairs.

I knew I should have gone back to the media room. That I should have shut that door and walked away, forgetting I'd ever seen it, but I didn't. I was too curious. I wanted to see what Tyson was doing. I wanted to see the faces of the men who had tried to hurt me and most of all, a part of me wanted to see what Tyson was capable of.

Deep down I knew I wasn't going to like what I was about to see, but I needed to see every part of Tyson, even the parts that were difficult to witness.

Before I could reason with myself, my foot extended down onto the stairs and I quietly tip toed my way down to a second door.

Holding my breath, I twisted the handle and opened it as silently as I could, letting a sliver of light escape the room as I peeked through the crack.

My eyes went wide and my breath hitched in my throat at what I saw. Multiple men were beating and two people that were chained to the floor. They were mercilessly beating and cutting the men as they begged for their lives, groaning and screaming between blows.

There was blood spraying and the sound of thudding of fists and crunching bone.

My eyes searched the room until they landed on Tyson. The leader, who was leaned against a counter that was full of weapons, watching the beating take place with a sadistic expression on his face.