Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Fifty Five - The consequence.

Punch.

I groan as he lays into me harder, his fists colliding hard with my face and stomach. He shakes his fist from the force of his punch, bouncing backwards on his heel, his adrenaline blowing through the roof.

My swollen face looks up into Amil's, seeing the anger vibrating off him. I can barely see out of my right eye and the longer I go without putting ice on it, the smaller it got.

"You fùcked up Jake!" He yells for the millionth time in the past hour. My head turns to the right and I sneer at Amil's brother. He owns the house I escaped to, instantly ringing Amil to fill him in on what was going on. He was a coward and sat back whilst Amil bought in the money for his greedy, power fuelled family.

Amil's brother gulped at me, the fear clear in his eyes no matter how much he tried to mask it. I know fear, I can smell fear. Amil was the one who taught me that.

"Son of a bitch!" He yells, punching me once more in the side of my head. My face automatically swings to the other side, the muscles in my neck throbbing from the sudden quick blow. I clench my jaw tightly and force myself to stay silent. This is all my own fault, this is what happens when you mess up in the gang.

"You almost got us caught!" He rants, throwing his arms up in the air whilst pacing the room. I keep my eyes trained on the floor, my head spinning from the battering he'd given me. I can feel myself shutting down slowly but I know he wouldn't kill me, I'm too valuable to him.

My temples throb painfully and blood trickles down my bruised face from my skull where he'd smashed my head open.

"Why Jake? Why?!" He shouts, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look him in the eyes. His eyes are dark, full of danger and power. I look back at him emotionless, my eyes empty. I've often stood watching as he did this to other gang members, the only difference is that I'm on the receiving end of his violence.

"Why?!" He hisses at me loudly, his spit landing on my cheek and sliding down. I clench my jaw tighter and Amil's eyes turns from angry to amused knowing he's winding me up. If I could hit him back, I would have but considering I'm tied to the wall with thick ropes, I don't really have much of a choice.

"Speak!" He commands me, slapping my face, the sting pulsing through my cheeks. His brother tuts from the other side of the room, shaking his head and I fight to hold back the growl I so badly want to let go.

I watch Amil's chest rise and fall heavily, his breathing finally settling back to normal. I blow out an imaginary sigh of relief, knowing he's calming down. He pulls something out from his jacket and I immediately snap my attention to it, narrowing my eyes so I can see it clearer. My vision is blurred therefore completely failing me.

He walks up to me, grabbing my face and pointing the barrel of his pistol into my cheek, twisting it hard. So that's what he's holding. . .

I'm no stranger to having a gun pointed at me however when it's your deranged gang leader holding the pistol, fear immediately settles into your stomach.

"Amil, please." I whisper quietly, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I turn my mouth and spit a huge amount of blood onto the floor.

"You bastard, don't spit on my floors!" His brother pipes up from behind Amil. I clench my jaw tighter before turning my head and spitting again, the clump of blood landing next to the previous one. I turn, smirking at him as his eyes widen in disbelief.

Amil shakes his head, chuckling dangerously quietly. His shoulders tense up and I freeze, feeling the bile rise to the back of my throat.

"I think you've forgotten what I'm capable of Melvin..." He drifts off, his eyes shining with sick humour. I watch helplessly as he lifts his gun at my head before aiming.

"Amil, don't do this," I beg him, the blood forming back up into my mouth. I need to spit or else I'll choke on my own blood.

"Please" I gurgle, feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head. Emily's face flashes through my head and I whimper, letting my head hang low. I'd seen the fear in her eyes tonight, she was scared of me, of what I am.

Maybe I'm better off dead.

Maybe she would be better off with me dead. Safe. She doesn't deserve to be mixed in with a world like this, she's too innocent. Too pure.

"Just do it." I spit out, feeling relieved to be able to breathe once more, even if it was only for a few more mere seconds. I stare him down with the only eye that I can force open and Amil lowers his gun, his chest heaving with his deep breaths.

"Fuck up once more and you're dead," he spits out, chucking his gun to the floor before walking out. His brother stands from his chair and takes slow steps in front of me until he's inches away.

"You deserve to be dead," he sneers and I growl loudly like an animal, causing him to jump backwards. I gather as much blood as I can and spat it at him, aiming for his face. It lands on his chest and drips down onto his clothes. He looks down disgusted before his nostrils flare with anger and he storms out, leaving me tied to the wall with a smirk on my face, barely conscious.

*****

Tobias' POV -

The front door opens and I hear a groan followed by a loud thump. I frown and grab the knife I keep under my bed before heading for the stairs. I walk across the landing, carefully making sure I don't expose myself to whoever it is downstairs.

The sight that greets me is a living nightmare.

What looked so little like Jake lay by the door, his clothes ripped in several places. Blood pours from his mouth and his face is black and bruised, one eye completely swollen and shut closed. He leans against the wall, using one arm to prop himself up before groaning loudly, hissing in pain.

I shoot down the stairs, taking them two at a time and jump down the last few.

"Jake!" I yell, kneeling down beside him. I gently lift his face and examine his cuts. He groans from the movement and I clench my jaw tightly, reaching for his hands. They're completely fine, no bruises or cuts. That meant Jake never fought back.

He always fought back unless it was Amil.

My body stiffens as I realise he'd been beaten up for what happened earlier tonight. I punch the floor next to me letting some anger out, my eyes widening in fear for Jake.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" I ask uneasily, knowing if he did, he wouldn't be able to explain this to them. He gingerly shakes his head before closing his one good eye, resting back into the wall.

"Emily," he mutters, blood dripping from his mouth and down his chin. He's a bloody mess. . . Literally.

"She's okay, don't speak."

"Ivory! Get down here!" I yell, knowing I need her help. I don't want her to see this but I can't do it alone. She appears at the top of the stairs within seconds, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Once she see's me with a bloody Jake, she screams, slapping her hand over her mouth.

"Ivory darling, this isn't the time. He needs our help." I tell her firmly, motioning for her to come downstairs and help me. She quickly trots down the stairs and kneels in front of Jake, tears forming in her eyes. She's seen Jake messed up before but not this badly.

He's barely alive right now.

She lets out a loud sob, placing a hand on Jake's cheek and I bite the inside of my cheek forcing myself to stay calm.

"Ivory, grab his other arm. On the count of three."

I pick up his left arm, throwing it over my shoulders and Ivory does the same on his other side. My other hand settles on his lower back —

"One, two, three" I say before heaving him up off the floor. He groans loudly, his knees buckling underneath his weight. I grit my teeth tighter as I struggle to carry most of his weight. He's a heavy bastard.

"You okay Ivory?" I ask and I hear her mumbling in agreement, her voice thick with emotion.

"Up the stairs," I instruct and we both shuffle him forwards slowly towards the staircase, leaving a trail of blood behind us.

The second I lie him down on the bed, he closes his eyes and his body becomes heavy with sleep. I check over his pulse and reach for my phone from my pocket. I'm unable to help him this time, he needs professional help.

I scroll through my contacts landing on an old one before ringing. He immediately answers and I fill him in briefly on Jake's condition before ending the call and waiting impatiently for him to arrive, my leg shaking up and down.

Within twenty minutes, there's a soft knock on the front door, getting my attention. I run down the stairs and swung it open, motioning for him to come in.

"It's good to see you Doctor," I say grimly, leading him up the stairs and to Jake's room.

"Likewise Tobias, where is he?"

I push open the door and point at Jake, the lump in my throat lodged firmly in place. It's painful to see the state he's in, I love him like a brother and he doesn't deserve this. I watch the doctor shake his head in shock before he rushes to Jake's side, checking his pulse. He pulls open the rucksack he bought with him and begins pulling out the medical equipment he needs.

I watch silently as he cleans, stitches and bandages him for the next two hours, occasionally taking a break for a cup of strongly brewed tea.