Ink: A Wings of Diablo MC Novel by Rae Lake (classic reads .TXT) 📗

women in the room following her as well. “Bring her in here; she won’t even have the sight of his face to comfort her.”

Lou picked Angel up and flung her over his shoulder, the motion enough to bring her back to the present.

“Ink! Please, help me! Ink! No, no, no!” She cried and reached out for me, her angelic face crumpled up in fear.

“Angel!” I screamed for her, running in her direction until the force of the chain stopped me in my tracks. “Oh, god, please,” I begged. “Angel, no!”

I pulled at my chains even after they carried her into the room. My heart was constricting in agony at the sound of her yelling out for me in horror at whatever they were doing to her in that room. When the strength in my legs completely dwindled, and the shackles still held me securely in place, I fell to my knees and let my head fall to the floor.

“Oh baby, no, no, not my Angel, please, please.”

Her screams of pain bouncing around the room, broken up by the sounds of my sobs. Every so often, the door to the room would open, and one of the men would walk out sweaty and tired looking, and my heart would shatter just a little more. There were moments I didn’t hear her crying any more or when the whimpering had calmed down to a whispering level, and I thought it was almost over, only to have another blood-curdling scream erupt from the back.

I rocked in place back and forth, the blood from the damage to my wrist congealing on the metal cuffs and my palms.

“Inkpop? Why did you let them hurt me?” I looked up, and Angel was standing right in front of me, completely intact.

“I'm sorry, so sorry, baby. I tried. I couldn’t get to you. I tried.” I croaked out and tried to reach for her again. Another scream echoed, and the image of Angel disappeared. I looked around in confusion. It appeared again to the right of me; she was reading a book this time, only to vanish again when the real Angel cried out. It was a torturous back and forth in my mind.

When I looked around again, the room was dark. We had been in there the whole day, and they were still going at it. Somewhere in between my fight to get to her and the acceptance I’d failed, I had begun to lose my mind. I was seeing the little girl all around, but I knew she wasn’t there. I knew they were still doing horrible things to her in the back room.

“Hey, get up.” Someone was speaking, but I didn’t turn. I was looking for Angel.

“I don’t have time for this shit. Get up!” The person kicked me in the gut, only a force of air leaving my mouth. He used the same foot to kick me over to my back. It was Lou. His face was no longer excited. He was tired.

“Angel? Where is Angel?” I asked my voice, barely a whisper.

“She’s not coming.” He reached down, grabbed one of the metal cuffs using the key he had in his pocket to release me. The limb fell back down to the floor uselessly. He did the same for the other arm.

“Angel…” Her name rolling off my tongue in despair. What did he mean she wasn’t coming, where was she?

He tried to get me to stand up again, but my body was dead, he could have shit on my face at that precise moment, and I wouldn’t have moved.

“Fuck this.” Lou lifted both of my arms over my head and pulled me out of the room, he dragged me back to the empty room Angel and I shared. I crawled over to the bed and tried to calm myself down, but I felt it in my soul. They killed that baby, and now I had nothing left to live for.

***

I laid on my bed for days, waiting to die. I didn’t eat anything. I didn’t drink anything, and I don’t even remember getting up to pee. Lou and Roth took turns checking on me, but no matter what they said, I never responded. It was an utterly lonely feeling. The room so silent even the figments of my rapidly deteriorating mind didn’t come to visit anymore.

The lock to the door opened, and quick-stepping footsteps came in my direction.

“Move,” Roth grunted behind me.

I didn’t make a sound.

“Nico, get up. I have to put her down.” He grunted again.

My head swiveled toward him, and for the first time in days, it felt like I could take a full breath.

He was holding Angel. She was limp and unconscious, but if he was bringing her in, it must mean she was alive.

He placed her down gently, but instead of on her back; he put her on her stomach.

“What did they do? What did they do to her?” I fell to my knees at her head and just watched as her bruised little face moved with every breath she took. I was forcing myself to realize that this little girl was still alive, and this wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

I picked my hand up and gently swiped one of her curly locks from her face, she whimpered and moved away from my touch even in her sleep.

Her lips were cracked and dry like she hadn’t had any water in days. Her fingernails broken off and bloody from her clawing to get away, but it was what I could see at the top of her back that had me seething with anger. The only emotion I had felt since she was locked in that room. There were slash marks and welts. It looked like it was from the cane or some other sort of whipping. I jumped up and grabbed Roth by his shirt, “What did they do to her?” I growled, there was no strength in my grip, but he let me hold him anyway.

“It’s not as bad