unconditional (BOOK #2) [TO BE PUBLISHED]

Chapter 10

A/N: so this has mistakes, because... like all the other chapters, it's not really edited. i mean besides spellcheck and a quick read. Anyways... enjoy :) (WARNING: CHAPTER HAS SOME ABUSE)

Chapter 10 (Gabriels POV)

I’ve done some sick shit in my short life, beat a fucker dead. Prolong a life so evenhandedly I could carry out my sick ongoing torture, on some shithead that crossed my family or me. Taking my sweet time, to break a fucker down, until they were begging me to end their lives. Even then, I continued, ignoring pleas and apologies; not bothering me one bit. 

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“GABRIEL!” I heard Marx shouting, but I couldn’t see him; I’d do anything to see him instead of what I saw now.

“Tell me Chelsea! Tell me why you insist on not following the rules! How many minutes were you over in the shower? Answer me!” Leo roared. You ever have that weird dream where something bad is happening and you just can’t wake up. You’re screaming in the dream and out loud.

This was worse.

I had no control over my body; my body flinched because Chelsea had. My arms tugged because Chelsea’s’ had.

“Three- three minutes,” I said, because Chelsea had. My mouth being forced to spit out the words, she did. I felt her pain. Her defeat. It was like Aunt Camilla had said to Marx, ‘you make my disappointments, your disappointment.’ Well, I felt Chelseas’ fear, like it was my fear. 

“Tell me why the man in the picture doesn’t want you?” thru her I saw Jay holding a young Maggie.

“H-he d-doesn’t want me because I- I am a b-bad girl,” I wailed, as Chelsea had. I couldn’t see Leo, because she hadn’t. My hands shook.

“Three lashes for each minute over Chelsea, and 6 more for having to even tell you again. And I’ll even let you keep count Chelsea cause we both know how forgetful I am,” Leo snarled as she cried. “You don’t count I’ll to start all over again.”

“One,” I shouted, crying, the whip cutting my skin. My back. I pulled at the restraints fruitlessly.

“Two,” my legs. The sound of the whip cutting the air signaling the next blow.

“Three,” I shout, screaming, choking, as I relived Chelseas nightmare, counting all the way to twelve, heaving.

She never begged or pleaded for Leo to stop.

“Wake Chelsea up. He’s reliving-” I heard Jack and for a split second I’m back to Marxs’ kitchen until I’m not again. I can’t lift my head against the padded circle with Jay and Maggie’s smiling face below.

I couldn’t concentrate on where I was or wasn’t. Still bawling, sharp pain swallows me as something, hard – solid - makes contact with my outstretched arm, followed by one to my back, a last blow to my ankle. I hear it, the sound of whatever it was that hit me, make contact. My ankle feeling as though it had been broken.

I can’t hear anymore and I can almost- not feel any injuries. In my heart and head I feel elated. I feel it because she felt it. Chelsea felt death coming. No more blows, but then I felt it. Just a bit before it went black, the first four inches of the three, eight-inch scars on her back.

Then all the pain was gone. Physically speaking that is. I could move my hands, pull them to my chest, and attempt to sit up. I didn’t do any of those things though I just closed my eyes. 

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Mentally and emotionally I was scared for motherfucking life. I was beyond disheartened. My stomach clenched then flipped, bile rising. I snapped my eyes open and oddly Jack had grabbed a trash bin and pushed it towards me, just in time for me to empty my stomach.