Their Sister, Their Strength (Old)

Chapter 28 - Terror

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Within one minute, four of my brothers had barged into my bedroom followed seconds later by a shirtless Cole and panic seized my thoughts when Mason slammed open the door with a raised gun in his hand.

A gun.

And yet that illegal weapon raised in my bedroom was the least of my worries, the most innocent threat in the room compared to the photo glaring at me from in between the smashed glass shards on the floor.

My heart pounded painfully against my chest as I couldn't divert my gaze from my Mother's lifeless eyes. A snapshot taken from her death, the crimson river of blood seeping out of her and my own lifeless body passed out in the passenger seat just seconds after I had tried desperately to revive her. Red writing was scrawled on the photo as if written in my own premature blood: I'll be back for you soon - D.

The unspoken promise sent my breaths into an erratic sprint but the panic from the threat of my own life was nothing compared to the knowledge that my Mother's death wasn't an accident. She was murdered. That was clear enough, the message was clear. Murdered by my abusive step father. My very much alive step father.

It was fake. The three years we spent together, being a flower girl at their wedding when I was ten, the trip to Disney land, the horror movie marathons. I shoved a hand over my mouth to stop the sob escaping me. It was easier to believe he abused me in blame for my mother's death than believe it was all a lie. That his words of promise at the wedding were spoken through a pretence of love and a fraudulent smile.

He wasn't just an abusive bastard. He was a murderer. A cold blooded, stone hearted murderer sent from Satan. The accident was planned. He killed his wife. He wanted to kill me. Why didn't he kill me? He had the chance. He killed my mother. She was murdered. By him. I was next.

The monster from my nightmares was alive.

In that moment, I had never felt such a violent urge. I wanted to kill him, I wanted to slit his throat and watch him die for ever touching my family.

I barely felt conscious when my knees had started to buckle and familiar arms surrounded me, lowering me to the bed I had just risen from. Stabilising me from collapsing into a heap of jelly on the floor.

"Shh, Bambina. You're okay," I only just recognised Elijah's soothing voice as he ran his fingers through my hair down to my back.

"He killed her," I sobbed a broken cry.

Just when I felt my heart was mending, that my broken pieces shattered by Dominic were slowly being glued back together, it felt like I had been smashed to the ground again like a fragile broken doll whose only purpose was break.

"It's going to be okay," he said.

No it's not! I wanted to scream. It will never be okay! If only I could get the words out.

"We'll figure this out, nobody is going to touch you, Mads. We've got you, Bambina."

I don't know who was trying to reassure more. A few hours ago I might have believed him, but this was Dominic.

His words did nothing to stop the iron fist clamping around my heart and squeezing all the warmth from it until it chilled my blood to ice. My breaths came in short, sharp pants and I desperately clawed for a breath. I couldn't seem to inhale as my world seemed to crash on top of me, suffocating me with a dark blanket of terror that saw no light. Only darkness. The
icy black obsidian darkness that was only found in the deep depths of hell.