Valor

Chapter 50

*Short chapter and honestly lowkey kinda cheesy but bare w me

 I never thought I would wake up in this cell ever again. I never wanted to, don't get me wrong, but if it it's either me or Dame, I would pick me everyday.

The cold cement is stained red with blood, mostly mine from when I was down here, but there are a few new splotches; not enough to get rid of the ghost of me though.

The reminder of what I went through hits me like an avalanche. It feels like a lifetime ago, but was it? Was it really that long ago that I was lost to the world?

The world around me continues to go on, and I'm stuck in my 14 year old self, locked away from everything I care about.

Cared about.

It's hard to imagine staying here for the rest of my life. Or at least I get pregnant and have a kid. Of course a kid isn't accurate either; a son.

No doubt that Marco still has his mind set on all of that shit.

I thought I could escape this type of life. I thought my in with the Valor brothers would allow me to do something other than wallow in my past.

I would take a moment to take a look around, but in reality there is nothing else to look at.

The old mattress where I got raped on a daily basis. The chains that hang from the ceiling that held me up for days until my shoulders dislocated. The handcuffs on the wall that held me in place while Marco and his friends cut into my skin and burned me.

It's all my past though. I got through it and I'll get through it now.

"You left." comes from behind me.

"I left." I say, turning my body around to face the exact man that made me leave in the first plae.

We're silent. I was scared of Marco in the beginning, but after he conditioned me it stopped. He went from being the devil to being some sort of annoying and abusive boyfriend.

Does that even make sense?

"We were finally happy. After four years Lilah. We were happy." He says, his voice devoid of emotion even though his words contrast.

I let out a breath. My time here isn't going to change. I can't go back to the doting wife who submits to her husband 24/7 and then occasionally has sex or gets beaten by him.

Absolute insanity.

"I wasn't happy Marco. You kidnapped me, tortured me, killed by sister and father." I say, rolling my eyes. I don't know where the confidence comes from. To be honest I'm only digging myself into an early grave.

I guess what's changes have been the past few months. The brothers.

I'm not sure when it happened, but they inspired me. They made me feel all my emotions and for the first time the ghosts of my past didn't haunt me. I felt like a real person for once. I didn't feel like the assassin or the sister or the abused girl. I felt like me.

They all tested me in ways I didn't expect. Now, here with Marco, I don't feel the need to cower.

"It seems you need some reminding before we continue." Marco says nonchalantly, waving his hand around his face like he's shooing a fly.

I want to laugh at him. He's such an entitled twat. It seems crazy that I was able to convince myself that I could love him, that I deserved the bullshit he put me through.

I went through a phase while I was here where I blamed myself for Sarah's death, my dad's too. It got so bad that I stopped reacting. I stopped eating. I let it all go away until I was skin and bones, barely alive.

I woke up a week later in the hospital, hooked up to machines and locked to my bed on suicide watch. I wondered at the time why Marco even bothered to save me. He made it clear that I was his little pet, so why did he do this?

The hospital room was huge, all I could think about was how much money he spent to have me here.

That was the first time I convinced myself Marco cared for me and his reactions were simply his way of dealing with my disdeeds. How fucking crazy is that? Now that I've gotten a lot of time away from him, I've realized how crazy that was. How crazy I was.

I turn to face Marco completely, squaring my shoulders until I seem like the most intimidating person in the world. I don't care that my clothes are torn and dirty or that my body is riddled with bruises from the transport. I force myself to ease confidence.

"You can't break me Marco, you should know that by now. I'm better, Im stronger now. I'm not the fourteen year old girl you stole. I won't submit to you. Ever." I feel like a hero in a movie and damn it if that makes me feel shitter. I'm not a hero, I'm a slave to my own life, and that speech proved it.

I will break, I know deep in my bones I've already given up hope for the future. All that I can do now is bid my time until he kills me.

Maybe I deserve it after everthing I've done. Maybe my time with the Valors was just to give me one last hurray.

I will admit the sex was pretty good.

"You're right. It's not like I am capable of killing all those you care about." He deadpans, looking at me like I'm an idiot for my 'speech.' "Or was Casey not proof enough of that."

I see blood. "Don't say her name." I seethe, gripping the bars that hold me inside this horrible prison. He has no right to say her name.

Marco laughs, gripping his chest like I said the funniest thing on earth. Finally his chuckles die down and he looks at me with an amused smile. "Remember Lilah." He says, staring at me with the eyes that hold nothing but murder. "There are three people out there who you don't want to die."

It's then that he turns away, subsequently to walk up the stairs. It's odd seeing this scene unfold again. Him walking away and leaving me alone in this prison that will be the death of me.

Just as he's almost at the top of the stairs, out of view, I speak.

"Four." I say lowly, my voice hoarse with anger.

Marco stiffens and turns around to glare at me. "Four." he says again, never taking his eyes off of me. "He threw you away, and you still think he deserves to live?" He asks.

"He didn't throw me away." I grit out, my teeth grinding together in anger.

Marco shakes his head before walking up the rest of the stairs, moving out of sight. "You're still just a stupid girl." He mutters as he shuts the door with a bang.

I turn around and let the tears fall down my cheeks. The tears I was holding back this entire time. I close my eyes and let the sadness overwhelm me, but only for a minute.

I let the horror and depression flow through me like a river, drowning everything and everyone in it's wake until my body is desolate.

I let it happen, but as soon as those 60 seconds are over i stop. There's no point in feeling sorry for myself.

"He didn't throw me away." I say to myself, my brow furrowing. He didn't.

I just have to have faith.

Have faith.

Faith.