Ruthless

Chapter 8 ~ The Devil

A.P showed me to the un-suit, he hands me a white towel and tells me there's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet.

"I'll go get you some clothes, they'll be in here after your done. If you need me I'll be down the hall, to the left in the kitchen." He says, I nod then smile in return and he takes that as his cue to leave. Once I'm alone I close the white bathroom door and lock it.

I walk over to the shower and I open the glass screen door surrounding the shower. I turn on the water and let it run to warm as I take my clothes off.

Once at the perfect hot temperature I step inside and let the hot water pour down my back. I take a deep sigh and let the hot water shower into my hair and I moan quietly in delight.

As I start to wash my hair and I close my eyes so soap doesn't fill them and blind me in stingy pain. Minutes later I reopen my eyes once the shampoo is out of my hair and face. I wash the rest of my body with fresh mango smelling soap.

Once I'm satisfied I smell completely like a fruit salad, I step out of the shower. I turn it off then search around the sparkling clean bathroom for my towel. I find it on the black marble worktop right next to the sink. I wrap it around me tightly then walk over to the bathroom door and unlock it. I step out of the steamy bathroom and enter the A.P's bedroom.

I walk over to his bed and I see what clothes he had given to me, a purple knitted jumper and a pair of blue jeans, much like the outfit I had been wearing when I was held hostage.

I dry off and put my borrowed clothes on, even with the lack of cream. Once I'm finished I fold up the towel and place it on the bottom of the bed.

I bite my lip and walk to his bedroom door, I hesitate before putting on my hand on the doorknob.

I have no idea what's out there. Last thing I remember was A.P's mother turning up and saving us, then telling me my ex-abusive boyfriend had died weeks before.

I smile at the idea he was dead. I had loved him once, the man I feel inlove with was kind, loving, sweet but then something had changed, as it always does.

Money was tight, he was paranoid and believed I was cheating on him because of the lack of his money. He never let me out of the house unless he knew who exactly I was with and where I was going . Ten friends turned into none. I was alone.

And then the abuse started. He had first hit me in the middle of a heated argument. After he had backhanded me on my left cheek we had both stared at eachother for a few seconds before we both burst into tears.

He apologised frequently, grabbing me an ice pack with his trembling hands. He made me sit down incase I was dizzy, then his head fell into my lap and he cried, promising he would never do it again. Stupidly I forgave him as I always did in moments like this.

I swallow and open A.P's bedroom as I blink away tears. I follow his instructions and walk down the hallway, the smell of fresh pancakes hits my nose making my mouth water. Just before I get to the kitchen something catches my eye.

I turn to my right and see a beautiful spray painting splattered across the cream hallway wall. It was a greenish-Blue bird which's wings faded into bright green, it was surrounded by golden yellow flames. I stare at it in awe but it looked so familiar but from where?

"It's a Phoenix" A familiar voice says from behind me, I jump at its suddenness and turn around to see who it belongs to.

"It's been here for years, my aunt painted it way before I was born," A.P informs still looking at the artwork.

I don't turn to look at him, "A Phoenix" I mumble as realisation hits me. I turn to Apollo slowly they artwork looked so familiar and sadly I knew exactly why.

"Your mum, is she Isabelle Cartel?" I question turning to look at him, confusion fills his face. My blood turns cold causing me to shiver. The picture of the Phoenix gave his 'family' away, Mark wore the same symbol on his leather jacket for years. They were people who turned him into a unloveable monster.

A.P didn't have to speak for me to figure out the answer, his face said it all, way more then I wanted to know. His mother was the reason we lost money then causing Mark to turn to alcohol. They taught him how to fight, how to beat people.

"I-i need to leave, now," I mumble rushing past him before he could react.

"Wait Santos! It's not safe," He yells after me, which causes me to turn around to face him. "But it's safer here with you?" I spit, looking at him with general hatred, how dare he? He glances at me shocked and retracts his arm from reaching out to me.

"And your Apollo Cartel- Phoenix, the boy that went missing years ago!" I yell at him, becoming overwhelmed with my situation. I grip my chest to help stop a pending panic attack.

"Is this because of Mark? Look I don't know what he did with this Mafia but it had nothing to do with me," He says calmly, my panicked behaviour didn't seem to faze him, almost like he was used to this sort of reaction.

"Don't mention him, and it's this place, your family. It's your freaking DNA," I retort back at him, but A.P doesn't replying instead he looks behind me, paling slightly.

"Sebastian she didn't mean disrespect, she's just scared," A.P says slowly glancing behind me, then at me. I stiffen completely, it was like I was in a horror movie searching for a monster that had killed my family and was hunting me next, but the audience had seen it behind me the whole time.

I clench my fists and give myself enough courage to turn around and face the devil himself.