The night he took me away

Chapter 30

Ava

       Something was unsettling Francesco through the whole week, and I need to know. He spent most of the nights outside, he didn't keep me company on the table to eat together, neither he visited me on the nights anymore.
    Is it because of me? What have I done wrong?
     He treated me coldly and I hate it. How can he be warm and charming one day and the next day a cold-hearted asshole?
     I thought we were getting closer after spending the whole day together. I thought he was caring for me, not by pithiness or necessity, but because he wants to.
    Fool of me.
   Despair, longing, and remorse control me in a way that makes it hard for me to sleep almost every night. I crave for his warmth and affection that I have become used to from the few nights we shared. His smell and calm breathing are now my addiction. I won't even admit that to him. I'll just enjoy it silently.
      The way I used to be intimate with Matteo can't be compared with Francesco. Every prior memory I lived is blurry. He's starting to make me want more, and honestly, it startles me.
     I remained close to the window crossing my arms over my chest as I watched the full moon that shined intensely outside. This was the only moment where I felt homesick, missing my parents and their sayings. But I was taken back to reality, when I heard the front door open. I bit the edge of my lip at the anticipation of Francesco finally arriving home.
     His footsteps came closer towards me and when I finally turned around I jumped and my whole body tensed. I panted when the man standing near looked at me with disapproval and amusement.
    Erik.
      "I apologize for the intrusion at this time, " He grins and his eyes travel through my whole body. "Is Francesco at home?"
    Anxiety takes over me at his question and my hope rises to Francesco appearing from anywhere to protect me from any harm that Erik wants to cause me.
     I cross my arms, like if it's my protection and finally shake my head. "No, " I say in a soft voice. "But he may come at any moment."
      "Mmm..." he takes a step forward. "Do you know where he might be?" He slightly bents.
      "No. And how would I know if we don't talk at all."
     The words came harshly and I tried my best to stay calm but his threatening tone made me look smaller and fragile. Suddenly he gave me a delighted reaction that I didn't expect at all.
    "I think it will be better if we go and look for him." 
  My heart skipped a beat. "He doesn't allow me to leave the house—"
      "He won't mind," he assured.
     Suddenly he grabbed me violently from my arm and I groaned in pain. "You're hurting me!"
        "Aren't you used to pain?"
   My eyes watered as he dragged me outside and pushed me inside of his car. He placed a brown bag on my head that almost made me throw up at the repulsive smell of blood. I felt fear and frustration with the unknown. With the idea of what he was going to do to me.
     Is that why Franceso has been behaving that way? He can't bare the idea of my death? Of my suffering? The purpose of all?
      A fool again for falling in love with someone who made me believe there are still 'good' people in the world. For making me feel empathy or pithiness for his harsh past.
    Fool of me.
      My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths during the whole ride. It was until the car stopped that I felt like I didn't have enough oxygen in my lungs. The car door opened and I attempted to push him away with my legs but that only caused me a hard punch in my face, leaving me almost unconscious on the floor. I began to taste the bitterness of my blood and hear my loud heartbeat throughout my whole body. He took the brown bag off my head and observed me carefully. Through his eyes, I realized that no matter how I looked or felt, he couldn't care less.
      He lifted me and I began to feel dizzy by the strong headache he caused me. I managed to look around and notice we were in a gray basement with many rooms like Francesco has at home, except that this place was dirtier.
      "All yours, " Erik rasped. He threw me and I fell into the hands of a stranger whose hands began to grope me all over. I struggled against his hold but he only laughed darkly.
      "Let me go!" I screamed.
    I noticed how Erik left me behind and that moment of distraction, I didn't saw coming the rough slap on my face. My cheek began to burn just like my soul did.
       "Don't fight against me while I put my dick inside of you. Be the good whore that you are, " he threatened against my ear as he began to barely choke me.
     My eyes focused on him, and I knew if he raped me I wouldn't forget his pale face and wasted yellow teeth.
      He had greater force than me by the way he easily placed me facing backward kneeling in front of an old chair. My sobs came louder when he pulled my pants down and ripped my underwear aggressively. Panic took over me and I tried to hold on tight against the chair once I heard his belt.
      "You will regret touching her."
   I froze at his voice.
      The man behind me laughed once again but once he acknowledged who he was, he fell silent.
      "Do you even know who she is? Or who she is to me?"
    I finally turned my head and saw how Francesco looked at him with outrage and excitement. He walked with confidence towards us, leaving a short distance between us. His eyes never locked with mine, and I was glad he didn't. I looked scared. Devasted. Hurt.
       "Sir?"
    Francisco bent down and tilted his head.
       "Go on, " he continued.
       "I...I didn't know she was your whore."
    Suddenly he takes one of his small knives out of his holder and furiously blasts it into his leg. The man yelled in pain and fell to the ground.
        "Wrong. Try again."
        "Yo...your...sis—"
    He pulls it out and places it in his stomach making my eyes widen at the scene.
         "Your wife!" He blurted out.
         "Finally!" Francisco threw his hands in the air and smiled at him deviously. "And you know what happens to the men that dare to lay a finger on her?"
      He laughs bitterly. "I cut their dick off and I place it either on their throat or ass." He pauses and closes his eyes, enjoying how it would look like. "It's a beautiful act."
       "Please..." he coughs. "I'm sorry."
       "It's not me who you need to beg for forgiveness."
       "Please."
    Francisco finally looks at me and patiently waits for an answer. "Will you spare his life, my love?"
    Tears fall through my cheeks and that makes him eager to end his life. Yet he waits, but I'm unable to move or even respond to him.
     "I'll take that as a yes."
   His gaze returned to the man laying on the floor. His hand tightened on the knife stuck in his stomach and quickly pulled it out. With the same method, he began to torture him in the worst way possible that I had to look away and cover my ears because I couldn't handle the sound of the cuts and cries.
     Once Francesco finished up his touch made me jump and tremble again. I saw how covered in blood he was and the image made me finally see the monster I was married to. Yet, I felt he was my angel. My protector. My lover.
     I saw how he gently pulled my pants upwards to cover my intimate part that was almost abused. We locked eyes and I felt the need to kiss him but the shock in me was greater than anything else. And I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.
      I finally lowered my head and covered myself with my hands. "Take me away from here, please."
      Without hesitation, I felt how he lifted me and carried me to his car. The ride home was silent, even when we came inside.
      Once he placed me on my feet I broke into tears and pushed him away.
        "Where were you?!"
     I pushed him again but he didn't move.
         "Where were you?!"
     He observed me silently with a soft expression as I sobbed loudly in front of him.
         "I." Push. "Hate." push. "You."
      At the last move, I leaned my head on his chest.
         "I hate you, " I murmured breathlessly, and before I could say anything else he began to slowly undress himself.
       Once he stood naked he waited for me to do the same. And doubtfully I did. He took my hand and guided me towards the shower where he stood below the showerhead until the water became hot enough for me. He grabbed the soap and slowly began to bathe me. He cleaned every small drop of blood that fell on my skin accidentally. His hands traveled to every inch of my body. To each part where my insecurities are. He took his time to even to admire them. Once we both got rinsed, he pulled me against him for a hug, warm water soothing and carrying all our sins and regrets away.
       "I'm sorry, " he finally says. He pulls away and gently touches my bruised lip. "I'll make Erik pay."
      I shake my head. "You can't kill everyone that hurts me."
        "I can and I will, my love. I would burn the entire world to save you."
      I tilt my head and look at him confused.
         "I love you, " he admits.
     The words make my heart melt and my stomach twirl at his confession. My body begins to feel numb and alive at the same time, a strange feeling I yearned for.
         "So this had to happen to make you realize your love for me?"
      He smiles and shakes his head. "I loved you before you even did."
          "Why didn't you confessed it to me?"
          "...because I needed you to see who I am. The monster I'll always be." He pauses. "And because I'll have to let you go one of these days."
     I suck harsh breathe.
       Let me go?
        "I wanted you to hear me saying it at least once."
    He places a delicate kiss on my lips and hugs me again. We remained that way for a long time. His words were engraved in my mind just like the questions did.
     
    My freedom or his love?