Deadly Vows Rewrite - Chapter FortyFive (Patreon)

Luca

As we drive up the mountain, I’ve never felt so anxious. If Elise is up here, after everything I did to Alexander as a threat, there is a good chance that I could have sped up the end of her life.

“Can’t you go any faster?” I hiss at Nicolai.

“Not unless you want to go off the side of the cliff,” he says firmly.

The drive alone takes an hour, and the roads are still being cleared. The only reason we’ve been able to go ahead of everyone is that we commandeered a snow plow, cramming Romelo, Nicolai, and me into one as we race to the top.

I know I’m being unreasonable in rushing him, which is why I made him drive in the first place. I can’t protect Elise if I’m dead.

“Shit,” Nicoali murmurs as we come upon a wreck. It’s an expensive SUV that crashed into a tree; the body of the car is mangled. There is snow piled up inside of it, signaling that it has been here for a while.

“Stop,” I say.

Nicolai slows the snow plow, and I jump out of the car to inspect the wreckage. The windows are all shattered from the impact. But there’s no sign of anyone inside the car. And if there was, the snow has already covered any footsteps left behind.

“How far are reinforcements?” I ask Romelo as he circles the car.

“Forty-five minutes to an hour,” he says, shifting his attention to the passenger side. He narrows his gaze slightly.

“There’s something other than blood in here,” he calls to me.

I narrow my gaze, moving around to the passenger side. The snow has soaked up whatever is in the passenger seat, giving it a strange shape. Whoever wrecked did this before the snow settled in.

“Have them test the blood and whatever this is. We can’t waste time speculating,” I say, turning away from the wreck. The jangle of keys fills the air, and I turn to see Romelo pulling them from the wreckage. He eyes them closely before looking at me.

“There’s a garage opener,” he says.

My stomach twists in terror as I try to hide my true feelings. If this is Elise’s doing, there’s no way she survived.

After what feels like forever, we finally reach Alexander’s home. Anger settles in my bones to think that the last time I was here, it is possible that Elise was as well. I should have been more thorough. I thought he wouldn’t be the fool to take her since he knows who I am. But my arrogance has caused her to slip through my fingers once again. From the moment my father was murdered, there was blood in the water. And the sharks have circled.

Nicolai shuts off the engine, and we’re all out of the car with our weapons ready as I make my way to the front door. I press the doorbell, stepping back as I wait for the frail old woman who runs his house to answer the door.

The door slowly creaks open, and the same old maid who let me in last time answers, but she barely opens the door as she peeks her head out.

“Mr. Volski isn’t taking visitors today—ah!” I hold my gun against her temple, stepping forward.

“Move,” I growl out.

I easily brush past her, and Nicolai snatches her, holding her tight as he places his gun against her head. “Scream and I pull the trigger,” he says.

I turn to face her, attempting to remain calm as I look at the woman who willingly helped hide my wife from me.

“Where is he?” I ask.

Her eyes are wide as she opens her mouth, barely able to form a sentence. It never ceases to amaze me how these people can go against someone like me, knowing the consequences, and act shocked when I actually show up at their door.

“I-in his-s-study,” she whispers.

I shift my attention to Nicolai, who hits her hard enough on the back of her neck to knock her out. I don’t care at this point if it kills her. It’d be better than what I have planned for her if I find Elise.

I move through Alexander’s home, following the same path I took only hours ago when I initially arrived. The door to his study is already cracked, and I kick it open easily to reveal a much different-looking Alexander than the one I spoke with last.

He looks like shit. His flesh is swollen from infection and attempts at closing the wounds given to him, especially one on the side of his throat. And even though he’s been stitched up, blood soaks his shirt as he looks at me with tired eyes and clammy skin. I doubt he can even speak. His breathing is heavy and wheezing as he glares at me, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Look around,” I call to Romelo while keeping my eyes on Alexander.

“So am I to assume your maid did this to you?” I ask, chuckling.

Part of me is happy to see the fight Elise may have put up. Another part that is barely holding on to my sanity is acknowledging that Alexander is still alive. And Elise may have paid the price for doing this to him.

“Luca,” Nicolai calls to me, and when I look at him, he’s watching Alexander’s computer screen, his skin pale as he looks back at me.

“You might want to see this,” I note that his voice is trembling as he speaks.

I quickly round the desk, and it takes me seconds to register what I’m seeing. Elise is being beaten with a belt that has jeweled embellishments. And each strike takes a chunk of her flesh with it. I narrow my gaze, sifting through the footage.

Alexander has many videos, all of which he is torturing her—beating her within an inch of her life. Some, he has her bound while he chokes her until she passes out. She was here. She was here when I came and I missed her.

I shift my attention to Alexander.

“Where is she?” I ask.

He musters all of his strength, flinching in pain as he attempts to speak.

“That’s the question of the century,” he says. His voice is cracked and hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

I feel Nicolai’s hand on my shoulder as he attempts to calm me down.

“Luca…think about Elise,” he says.

I slap his hand away, moving past the desk to Alexander. I put my gun away, pulling a knife out of its holster as I come to stand over him, and his eyes follow the motion.

“I won’t ask again,” I say.

Alexander smiles wickedly. “I knew you would come back for her sooner or later. I just planned to have her mangled corpse waiting for you when you did. You should have heard her screaming for you as she watched you leave her all alone…,” he says.

I lunge at him, but it is Romelo who has me this time, his grip tight as he holds me back.

“This is what he wants. He wants you to kill him quickly, and then you’ll have no lead on Elise. Calm down, Luca.” It’s Romelo’s voice of reason that calms me out of my haze.

“I’m fine!” I shout, pulling away.

They sit me in the chair, and Romelo walks closer to Alexander, ripping his shirt up to expose the nasty scarring beneath. “How’d you get those stitches?” he asks.

Romelo studies them closely, not waiting for a response.

“They look fresh. Very thick tissue damage also. Like someone did that frantically. Not calculated, but in a panic. And definitely not strong enough to get a clean slice,” he says. 

I study the stitching. He’s right.

“We found these in that car down the road.” Romelo pulls out a set of keys, dangling them in the air. “Along with some blood in the seat.”

He points to a button. “This works your garage, and I am assuming these are your keys. But that wreck didn’t cause this damage, did it?” he asks.

“Is Elise here or not?” he finishes.

Alexander still doesn’t budge. He glares at Romelo with all the hatred he can muster.

“You know where she is? Dead. I left her in the storm after I found her barely conscious in my car. I’m sure the wolves must have gotten to her body by now,” he chuckles.

I see red as I lunge across the room. This time, Romelo can’t catch me as my hands wrap around Alexander’s throat. His eyes are wide as he claws at my grip, but he is weak from his injuries. His pulse becomes weaker beneath my fingertips along with his struggles, but before I can end him completely, my body is jerked backwards, and I watch in disappointment as Alexander hunches forward, coughing violently, holding his reopened wounds.

“I will never forget the sound of her screams as she begged me to spare her. Her cries as I ripped her apart slowly and painfully!” he tries to shout with his cracked voice.

I can’t bring myself to move as Romelo holds me. He is lying. I won’t believe it. I refuse to.

“You should have seen the fear in her eyes. It’s something that will keep me smiling in my dreams for a long time,” he laughs.

Suddenly, Nicolai’s fist collides with Alexander’s face, knocking him instantly unconscious. Silence fills the air as no one dares to be the one to speak first. Not even me, as I try to come to terms with what he said. She can’t be dead. It’s impossible. He’s lying to get a rise out of me.

Romelo slowly relaxes his grip, and I step forward, feeling numb.

“Get the maid. And see if you can recover all recently deleted footage. We’re going to find her,” I say.

Elise

I must be dead. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I’m warm, under the blankets of a soft bed, and the scent of wood burning drifts under my nose, accompanied by the occasional crackle of a fire.

I slowly open my eyes, greeted by a small and unfamiliar room. The walls are log, with paintings of the mountainside adorning them. Directly in front of the bed is the fireplace that awakened me from my dreams. As I shift my attention to the curtains, I note that the window slightly behind it reveals more snow.

My stomach dips in dread. I’m still in the mountains.

I slowly sit up, clenching my teeth as pain washes over me. When I bring my hands to my head, I note that there are bandages over them. I’m still wearing the clothes I escaped in underneath an oversized T-shirt, I note. I quickly look around the room for the coat I was wearing, ignoring the nausea that hits me as I jump out of bed to check its pockets.

The knife is still there.

I release a sigh of relief, shifting my attention to the door. It’s cracked. I make sure to take the weapon with me as I open the door, stepping into the hallway.

The smell of bacon hits me instantly, and I note that my stomach constricts in pain as I follow it from my hunger. Once I exit the hallway, I enter a large living room with an A-frame window overlooking the snow. The fireplace is also going in here, and when I look beyond the living room to the kitchen, I notice the man moving around as he cooks breakfast.

I tense when suddenly a growl sounds from the living room, my eyes widening as a husky lifts its head, pulling its owners attention.

“Rosco, down,” he calls to the dog.

I hold my blade up, my terror fueling me at being caught by another wicked man. But this one doesn’t seem threatening as he lifts his hands in surrender, his blue eyes reminding me of the ocean.

“Whoa there… You shouldn’t be up with those injuries,” he says to me.

But I keep my grip firm on the blade, pointing it at him. 

“Who are you? Where am I?” I ask.

“I mean you no harm. My name is Wyatt. My dog picked up your scent, and it would have been evil of me to leave you out there like that,” he says. He points to the glass. “As for where you are, you’re in my cabin in the mountains,” he says.

My skin suddenly feels clammy as I struggle to keep a grip on the blade in my hand.

“I need to get out of here. You need to take me out of here before he finds me—” I stop myself, eyeing Wyatt in distrust. I don’t know if he works for Alexander or not. Or if this is some kind of sick game to make me believe I won.

“Miss, just calm down. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I found you outside after Rosco tracked you down, barely alive. You had no ID on you, and you looked pretty banged up. I called the police, but they didn’t—”

“No! No police!” I scream.

His eyes widen, and he nods his head.

“Okay, no police,” he says.

Silence drifts between us, and I narrow my gaze, looking back to the dog watching us curiously from the couch. If he wanted, he could have let the dog attack me by now. But I’ve been manipulated too many times to let my guard down now.

“Listen, I know you must have been through something pretty rough. I’m not here to hurt you,” he says.

“Why are you helping me? What do you want out of this?” I hiss.

His eyes widen in confusion, and he lowers his hands.

“Where I’m from, if somebody is in need, you help them out,” he says.

Silence passes between us as I fight with myself to trust this man. Where I’m from, no one helps anyone without wanting something in return. Especially the men.

He suddenly moves, and I hold the blade up, aiming it at him as he reaches in his pocket, pulling out a phone. His eyes remain on me as he lowers it to the ground, sliding it over to me.

“You’re probably tired and want to call someone to let them know you’re okay. There’s a shower through there, and I’m making breakfast. You can leave anytime you want,” he says, slowly backing away.

I wait until he’s a good distance away to pick up the phone. And as I slowly back out of the room, I note that he doesn’t follow me.

Once I’m safely in the hallway, I sprint to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. The phone isn’t locked, and as soon as I open it to dial a number, I realize that I don’t know Luca’s number. He kept me so isolated that I never had a reason to call him. He was always with me.

I slowly look away from the phone at myself in the mirror.

I’m covered in bandages. Some covering the wounds caused by Alexander and some from the wreck. Even my back screams in pain from the bruises and split skin from his constant beatings. My eyes are black from the force of his hit last night. It’s probably why I was unable to remain conscious. He hit me so hard he gave me a concussion.

Tears slowly well up in my eyes, falling down my cheeks as a soft chuckle leaves my lips.

I escaped. I’m free.