The Good Bad Girl

Chapter 32 One step closer

The early rise of dawn paints the background of the motel in a scenic glow. The dark blue sky with hints of a rising sun brightens the day but what captures my eyes is the woman sitting on the steps of the shady motel.

I park the car on the side and rush out. "What the fuck Olivia-" I pause when I see the blood dripping down her right arm. She had used a torn cloth to stop the bleeding but it was soaked completely in dark red. 

"Hey!" she says in a weak voice. Almost trembling. 

"Who?" Just one word and she flinch at my tone.

 Visions of red cloud my eyes as I imagine someone hurting her. My hands grip my side at the idea of twisting that someone's throat while he begs for forgiveness, the white of my knuckles pulled her eyes to my fist. 

"Calm down." She weakly laughs and taps on the seat beside her, "Sit. I want to talk to you,"

Oh, we have a hell to talk about.

I walk like a robot because if I went into human mode I might annihilate this entire building and the people who own it. "Who did this?" I ask again but instead of answering she leans to my side and rests her head on my chest. My whole body buzzes with teenage goosebumps. It's like I am a nerd and she is my greatest fantasy come to life.  

"God, I needed this," she says and closes her eyes. "I am sorry for last night. I shouldn't have left like that."

"No, you shouldn't," I look ahead to the empty land basking under the sunrise. There was nothing in sight except for the motel behind us.

She takes a deep breath relaxing some of my nerves. Thank god, she is okay. My shaky hands finally seem to calm down as we sit in silence for some time. We watch the rising of the sun, the glowing orange ball inching higher in the sky spreading like fire and swallowing the world with its glamour.

"I am going to tell you a story but you have to promise you won't react," she says after a while,

I stroke her hand.

"I was twelve when Benedict first hit me. It was a week after my mother's death." My heart stopped. 

"Since the start, we never had a good father-daughter relationship. He was good when mom was around but-" she pauses and every cell in my body tensed up. "After her death, it was like my world fell apart with her absence. I became the golden ticket as his punching bag. Whenever things didn't work with the business or some party refused to play his rules he would take the anger out on me. Either with a slap or a punch. He never went extreme with his physical abuse but he did hit me once with a screwdriver."

Rage.

Pure rage is what I am feeling right now. Blood roars to my ears, the tightness of my chest increases as images of Benedict hitting young Olivia take place in my mind. The same hand he hit her with, I am going to rip apart his skin and shred his bones into ashes until he begs me to spare him. 

"Calm down. He can't hurt me now." She says sensing my stiff body. "It went on for four years before Klaus came back from the hostel. After that, he became my savior and protected me against him. Our torture ended when Klaus hit him for the first time shocking both of us. Benedict stopped hitting me after that and Klaus got me a new place for the time being." She pauses tightening her hold on my forearm, "Last night, I found another sick face of Benedict, "

I turn and push her hair back from her face,

She pulls back and bites her lips. Pain and regret covered her eyes. "I don't have to drag it out. You already know who blew the car, don't you?" 

I nod. Luca and Klaus both informed me while I was racing my Mustang in the streets last night. 

Olivia releases a shuddering breath and I know whatever she found out is not good.

"Benedict took Marcello's daughter and used her to make him kill me. I know he is a certified dick but I also know how dangerous he is with y-young girls," her voice crack up and I immediately pull her in my chest. "I am afraid he will do something to her. Something evil or worse, he will scar her childhood. I don't care if he plots against me, I don't care if he wants me dead but he can-t... cannot use a kid, Ash."

I stroke her head and calm her. The crack in her voice soon turned to sniffs and then she was crying in my arms. Shreds of glasses cut my heart into tiny debris each time she sniffs. My heart ached like never before as I see the only person I love in the world crumble because of a bastard. 

A sick evil son of a bitch who doesn't deserve to live. 

This used to be a battle. Me and Benedict. But, now it has become personal. He had hurt someone he shouldn't so much as have touched. I don't think I have felt this much hatred for someone ever. 

The world is slowly turning red wrapping everything with blood and screams. And the only one I want to hear now is his. 

So painful and slow, he will regret his existence. I will burn him then aid him then burn him again and again until his body learns the true meaning of pain. 

My murderous thoughts stop for a minute when I hear a giggle. A vibration of Mi Zorro's body underneath my arms as she laughs against my chest. "You okay?" I ask because I have no idea why a person who was crying a second ago is laughing all of a sudden.

 She pulls back and wipes her tears, "Yeah I am okay. It's just that, I am crying more with you than I ever did with anyone."

Ouch. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no of course not," She looks at me. Her red puffy eyes look so pure and innocent right now. "Just the irony of the situation. I was supposed to kill you along with Benedict but here I am crying my eyes out for the second time complaining. I don't know if I should laugh or be relived at my situation,"

"Why relieved?" 

She leans in and strokes my jaw, "Because you don't make me embarrassed for my feelings." Her eyes move up and lock with mine and suddenly everything stops. The birds chirping gets mute, the air freezes, the sun blinks and covers us in a spotlight. My breath hitches as I match the intensity of her gaze. 

"I feel comfortable expressing my emotions with you. I don't have to hold back or pretend to be strong. I don't have to be something I am not. I can be at my rawest form in front of you, I...don't know why," she says averting her gaze at the last part. "But I do,"

This is the most she said about her real feelings to me. I feel special. Wanted by her and trust me that feeling is everything. The husband in me likes it.

"Mi Zorro," I speak but it comes out in a whisper. Slowly I inch her face back to me. Our gazes lock again, "Let me help you find it then,"