Bang, You're Dead.

eighteen

Eighteen 

// because Sophie told me to update and I thought, why the hell not //

The urge to remain indifferent was stronger than the urge to cry out as Monica delivered her fourth punch to my body. It was the second to my face after two to the torso. I felt a trickle of blood fall from my nose but I refused to show pain.

Max stood behind Caroline and Monica with his arms crossed. It was only the four of us in the run down hut. I was tied to a chair, my hands bound to the legs with rough twines of rope. Each time I got hit, my hands struggled against the rope painfully.

Before Monica punched me a fifth time, Max stopped her and stepped forward. I didn't allow myself to be relieved. 

"There's no Alex here to protect you this time, Jade," he said quietly. Thoughtfully.

"He hates me anyway so don't be so surprised," I replied, my voice cold.

Max cocked his head to the side. "I've seen Alex hating someone. Trust me, sweetheart, he does not hate you. If he did, he wouldn't try to protect you."

Caroline narrowed his eyes. "I don't know why he'd want to protect you. You're weak and annoying."

"Better than being a cold-hearted bitch," I retorted quickly.

I received a sharp slap to my cheek. My face stung but knowing I'd offended her was a small triumph I took. 

I looked at Max, determined to be strong. "Go on then, Maxim, hit me. You haven't done it yet and I know you're itching to do so."

"No, I didn't bring you here to hit you," he admitted. "I brought you here to talk. However, I can't control Monica and Caroline. They do as they please."

Monica dealt me another punch. I had to spit the blood from my mouth. My hands strained against the rope, my silent way of screaming out in pain. I was set on remaining impassive. I was not going to react.

Max tapped his chin and looked over me. His gaze made me squirm. I hated the way he looked at me. "You know, my father has a record of all the people in Sector. It was quite interesting reading about you."

My breathing shallowed and he grinned. 

"Watching your mother die mustn't have been fun," he said slowly. "Watching the bullet go through her head. Sitting in a pool of her blood—“

"Don't you dare talk about her," I hissed, my facade breaking as I let my anger get the best of me.

His face changed, knowing I'd hit the right spot. "How did it feel, to sit in a closet, so helpless, so useless, and watch as someone beat her to a pulp—“

"Stop!" I yelled, forgotten images resurfacing in my mind.

"—abuse her—“

"SHUT UP!" I shouted more ferociously than before. 

The images threatened to drown me, drag me back into a dark void that I'd been stuck in for so long after her death. The fight in me started to recede as the pain and grief and loss took over.

He grinned wickedly. "My father told me she died for you. She could've fought her way out had she been alone. You caused her death. It seems like a waste too, considering you have definitely not lived up to the Henley name."

"Please," I whimpered. 

"Aww," he cooed, "you're not getting soft on me now, are you Rookie?" He looked at Caroline and raised his eyebrows.