The Deep End

Chapter 3

•Polina•

My father was always adamant that no matter what happens you cannot show that you're afraid. The people in our world revel in the fear of others and if they know they've succeeded it'll only make their pursuit worse. He tried his best to train me to shut the fear off as if it were a switch.

Fear ON— terror thrums through your body like the vibration of a train barreling down the tracks. Fear OFF— your body becomes numb to the point where you feel nothing. You don't truly turn it off, you simply shove it so far in the back of your mind that it gets lost amongst the dark corners there.

For once in my life I'm thankful for the hell my father put me through as the Grim Reaper himself approaches at a slow, methodical pace. I stare into his flat amber gaze knowing death is imminent and it will be a long, drawn out process if the rumors about him are true. One that will have me begging for mercy and wishing for the end to come faster than he will ever allow.

Will he have me spilling Bratva secrets as my guts pour onto the floor from my abdomen? Will each tooth in my mouth be a nail in my fathers coffin? How many pints of blood will be enough to sate his psychotic appetite?

My vision swims and I have to blink a few times before he comes back into focus. After the bald man, Toni, dragged me in here he smacked me so hard my ears rang and I spat blood. The copper taste still lingers on my tongue even hours later. I guess in his defense as soon as he'd cut the cable tie from my wrists I had slammed my elbow into his nose and fought him harder than I'd ever fought anyone in my life. The man with him had to help get me under control, if he hadn't been there I think I could've gotten away. One positive thing was the fact that Toni hadn't actually tied me to Riots bed like Riot had threatened, he'd shackled me to the wall in a bright white basement. The room is spotless and smells of bleach, even the steel hooks bolted in the wall gleam under the light. It's so pristine it looks as if it has never been used.

My arms are tired and my head aches painfully from the wound I received when Toni slammed my head into the brick house. Unfortunately the fear switch doesn't turn off all feelings. My father tried his best to condition me to withstand pain as well but that one was tricky, it wasn't as easily taught as the fear switch because you could physically feel it and your body could only withstand so much. He was adamant that once the pain overwhelmed you, you'd become numb to it but that hadn't been the case with me as of yet.

I push the thoughts of my fathers teachings from my mind as the Grim Reaper comes back into focus. I'd heard rumors about him since we were teenagers, how beautiful and charming he is. Even the daughters of my fathers men were drawn in by his alleged allure and oddly the fear they felt in his presence only seemed to attract them more. The rumors are horrifyingly true about his looks, he's absolutely gorgeous in the most terrifying ways. Before I hit the fear switch I thought I was going to pee myself just from being in his presence, restrained to the wall and completely at his mercy. I force the fear back down as it threatens to envelope me again.

The sharp cut of his jaw and cheek bones looks harsh beneath those amber eyes. With an eye color that shade you'd assume his gaze would be warm but it isn't. His eyes may have well been ice blue with the chill they showed, the amber orbs flat and cold. I'd never looked into someone's eyes and seen death but in his I do. Death, malevolence, and a dark wickedness that should have me trembling in his presence.

It's hard— holding his gaze, keeping my head held high while I'm shackled to a wall. My arms are stretched up high above my head, my legs weak and threatening to give out at any moment. It feels like I've been here for hours. I'm so tired, I wish he would kill me already. The longer I'm here the more my hatred for my father grows.