Dollface

Part 76

Isa's POV
I couldn't stop crying, and the continuous flow of my tears annoyed the men sitting next to me in the mysterious car I was thrown into. We seem to be driving through the streets of Hollywood-like streets, that is, driving to a warehouse just seconds away.

?: For heaven's sake, do you ever run out of tears?

A man growls next to me. My sadness and fear rebel into this kind of anger, causing me to go head first into the man's face. A loud crack and a groan sounds out and an angry blow is delivered to my cheek.

I clench my jaw, thoughts wandering from the physical pain in my cheek to the mental torture circling back and forth in my head. Simon... he was shot. He was killed. He's dead.

The pain is too much to imagine, causing another stream of tears to stream down my face. I can't help but think about how much I'm going to miss seeing him. Damn, I'll never be able to see his face again. Those eyes... I can't stop the brief image of them staring into my soul, their dark beauty consuming my entire being.

And how I can't stop the shaking of my whole body and the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, it felt like it was growing until my throat felt so tight, I was on the verge of puking all over this back seat.

I gasp and heave for oxygen, fighting to get some no matter how hard I try, the overwhelmed tears make me choke on my own breath, and before I know it, I'm hyperventilating.

Simon was always good at helping me when I felt like this; when I can't stop crying. He always knew how to calm me down. How to comfort me. How to make me feel loved, no one will make me feel like he does...

There is a mix of emotions I can't quite put my finger on. I'm on the verge of losing my mind. Hands grabbing my arms, pulling me out of the car with offensive words, the man I broke his nose is walking behind us, calling me a "whiny little bitch," and I'm just urging, itching to kill this man. To physically end his life, the urge is unbelievable. And it just seems reasonable in my head. They are the reason for Simon's death, they killed him.

?: Welcome to your grave, love.

He leans down to whisper to me, whiskey-smelling breath blowing against my lips, a disgusted grimace covering my face, and in seconds I gather enough saliva to spit it in his face.

The unexpected action makes him flinch and wipe his right palm across his face, the same hand stopping before it makes hard contact with my cheek again.

??: ROY! You can't kill here yet, Adam will turn his shit around.

A deep creak erupts from his throat, black beady eyes staring at me.

R: Fine, but I'll kill that bitch myself.

I feel so much resentment for everything, so much I pray to God, the only one I have left in this situation. The only thing I have left is to pray.

My eyes observe the surroundings around me, an empty warehouse, a few parked cars here and there, a table with a few chairs around it, as if I assume the many men standing around will do it to me in no time, there were all the men for eternities, a sea of eyes watching my every move.

I take a shuddering breath and am violently dragged to a chair to sit on.

R: Hey, Zendaya, where's Adam? Tell him we got the girl.
Z: He's a minute away.

She murmurs, staring at me for a brief moment with a feeling of discreet sympathy.

R: Did you kill Simon?
Z: Yes, all done.

She whispers, staring at her shoes with her jaw clenched.

R: Uh, after all, the kid was good, but not good enough.