RYDER (Slater Brothers 4)(70)

Surprisingly, I didn’t move a muscle; instead I sat still as I felt blood seep out of the hole that now marred my shoulder.

Things were quiet and eerily peaceful in that moment until suddenly the shock of what just happened wore off and the agony set in. I cried out when what felt like fire filled my shoulder, and thigh then quickly turned to a sickening throbbing. Each pain pulse reminding me that this was real, and not some sick nightmare.

I’m really somebody’s captive, and he is really going to kill me.

“Stop your screaming,” Big Phil hissed. “They’re just flesh wounds, not deep enough for you to bleed out, so stop.”

Oh, they were just flesh wounds. That made them not hurt.

“Ryder?” he suddenly said, tapping on the screen on his phone and placing it against his ear. “Are you still there?”

I held my breath when Big Phil spoke even though the throbbing in my shoulder and thigh demanded I scream to release some of the pain I felt.

“I’m going to cut to the chase, I want Kane for Branna.”

Silence.

“You want to test me right now?” the sick f*ck laughed. “I’m putting you back on speaker. I want you to hear her more clearly so you understand I’m not playing.”

He put his phone down on the table close by and he advanced on me once more, his eyes locked on me with a sick smirk on his face.

“Get away from me,” I pleaded then screamed bloody murder when he reached me and grabbed hold of my wounded shoulder, pressing his thumb into the wound.

“I’ll kill you!” Ryder’s voice screamed through the phone.

Big Phil laughed some more as he moved away from me and picked up the poker from the fire. I cried then, tears falling from my eyes in streams.

“Please,” I sobbed. “Please don’t do this. I’m beggin’ you.”

My pleas only fuelled him on, and in seconds he was standing before me holding the burning red head poker inches away from my skin. I could already feel the boiling heat from it, and I whimpered in fear.

“Tell Ryder what I have in my hand, Branna.”

“A…a hot poker.” I answered, my voice shaking.

Big Phil nodded. “And what am I going to do with it?”

I cried. “Please, don’t.”

“You’re bleeding more than I’d like, so it has to be done.” He said to me making it sound like he was doing me a favour.

“You shouldn’t have stabbed me then!” I shouted.

Big Phil ignored me, and pressed the hot end of the poker against my wound and for a few seconds I was consumed by darkness. I came to just as the same blinding pain consumed my leg and I blacked out once more, my body falling to the side and hitting the floor with a loud thud.

“Branna?” Ryder’s voice screamed. “BRANNA?”

“Shut up f*cking screaming!” Big Phil snapped as he lifted the chair, and me, back to an upright position. “She’s fine, just passed out for a second. I used the scalding poker end to burn her wounds to stop her bleeding. You’re welcome.”

“When I f*cking get my hands on you,” Ryder swore, “I’m going to kill you slowly. I’m going to make you beg for death!”

“I’m not afraid to die,” Big Phil dryly replied. “It’s only a heartbeat away.”

I willed myself to stay awake, though my body pleaded desperately to succumb to the bliss that was darkness. I managed to open my eyes in time to see that the next thing Big Phil cut was the restraints on my ankles and wrists. I fell forward when my limbs fell free, but he caught me and hauled me over to the big sofa near the fire. He dropped me onto it, and it was the stupidest thing to think of considering the circumstances, but the sofa was like landing on a soft cloud and for a moment I felt like I was already in Heaven.

“If you move, you’ll be sorry.”

I didn’t reply to Big Phil when he spoke to me because I was simply too weak to. I hurt all over, and felt like never moving again. I heard more talking and shouting coming from both parties on the phone, but I couldn’t pay attention any longer and I allowed myself to fall into sweet, sweet darkness.




“Wake up.”

Those two words were the first thing I heard, the second was my own heartbeat, and the third was my scream as it tore from my throat. Pain. So much f*cking pain. It filled me from head to toe and it was constant.

I opened my eyes and whimpered when I realised I was still trapped in Hell.

“Please,” I pleaded to no one. “Please, help me.”

My voice sounded scratchy, and felt like it needed a big glass of water to soothe away the ache in my throat.

“They’re in the building,” Big Phil mumbled, making his presence known. “I just buzzed them in.”

I had no idea who he was talking to; I looked at him and found him gazing out of the window with a gun in one hand, and a glass of brown liquid in the other. My eyes lingered on the gun for a few moments, and I prayed to God that he wouldn’t use it.

“Wha-what are you sayin’?” I asked as I lifted my right arm and used my hand to press against my left wounded shoulder in an attempt to stop the pulsing sting.

“The Slaters,” Big Phil replied. “I just buzzed them into the building, they’ll be here soon. I unlocked the front door for them.”