Chapter Eighteen: The Car

"I-I'm sorry." Porcelain cried and he shushed her as he gently rocked her back and forth until she eventually stopped crying.

"It's okay. I'm here now. I'm right here." He continued to comfort her, making me swallow hard.

"Georgie." Her brother croaked, clutching his stomach, his face contorting in pain. Now that I studied his face a little closer, I could see the resemblance between the two. He also had red hair and green eyes. I could also see freckles here and there where they weren't covered by blood and bruises. He stood up slowly, Jackass watching him like a hawk with his arms still around Porcelain. When Gia's brother took a step towards her, Jackass growled.

"Don't you dare get anywhere near her, or so help me God I will tear you apart with my bare hands." He threatened his voice low and dangerous.

"Don't let him get between us Georgie." Her brother said, looking straight at her and ignoring Jackass' threat.

"You got between us George. Anthony did nothing wrong." She said in a small voice. I furrowed my brows at the man's name. Did the psychopath really have to have my father's name?

"That's not true. Don't let him brainwash you." Ge- Psycho said, taking another step towards her. Jackass tucked her underneath his arm, shielding her with his muscular body.

"I'm warning you George." Jackass spat, and Pyscho continued ignoring him and walked closer to them, watching his sister with a concentrated gaze.

"I'm all you have left Georgie. I protected you when mom and dad died. I raised you; made sure you had all that you wanted. And this is how you repay me?" he shouted out of the blue; his fists curled.

"We don't have to listen to this shit. We're going. And you better be gone when I come back, or I'll send you back to hell myself." Jackass said to psycho as he walked past him, elbowing him in the gut. He didn't even look at me as he walked past and further into the house, leaving me with the creep. The staff bolted to the kitchen from where they were hiding. I turned on my heel and was about to follow Jackass when an icy cold hand wrapped around my wrist and yanked me back. I opened my mouth to scream but another cold and damp hand clasped over my mouth, muffling my screams. His hot breath fanned at the back of my neck, before his cold lips touched my ear,

"If I have to leave, you're coming with me." He whispered dangerously in my ear, sending chills down my spine. Tears pricked my eyes as I unsuccessfully struggled and thrashed against him. He had his bloody hand pressed firmly against my lips, the taste of it making me sick. He had both of my hands behind my back, gathered in one of his. I'm trapped. Just when my heart was frozen solid with terror, he started pulling me backwards. He's pulling me out of the house.

I try to scream, but it was just a muffled south that disappeared in the air. There was no one around. Jackass and Gia had disappeared somewhere in the house, the staff too. I kicked at anything I could, but there was nothing within my reach that could break and make a noise. The psycho chuckled sadistically in my ear as I continued to struggle against him. My vision was blurred with my tears, my heart stuck in my throat. We're outside. Oh no, no please no. The words were stuck on my tongue, unable to squeeze through his bloody fingers. Before I could comprehend what was going on, I was shoved into a trunk. And the trunk was closed before I was done processing where I was. I started screaming, banging my hands and feet on the trunk door, hoping, praying that someone would hear and save me. But such only happens in the movies and in the books. It doesn't happen to me. I am never the damsel that gets saved. I'm the damsel that gets wiped from memories. And yet I screamed. I screamed until my throat was raw. No one came. Instead, the car moved.

ANTHONY'S POV

Red.

It's all I can see as I carry my errant wife up the stairs. Why are women so fucking stupid? How many times did he have to beat her up and violate her before she realised that he's just a psychopath with a serious mental problem? I want to kill him. I want to rip him apart and feed the pieces to my dogs while I drink a shot of Jameson on the rocks. Fuck! I kick the useless small table we have in the hallway leading to our bedroom, suddenly irritated by the sight of it. Why the fuck do we need tables in the hallway, anyway?

"Anthony." Even the sound of her voice pisses me off. How could she be so stupid? I choose to ignore her, instead focused on my breathing to calm myself down.

"Anthony, please say something." She's using that voice; the voice she uses to manipulate me. I used to find it cute at some point in my life. But we're grown, and I'm not a fucking idiot anymore. I kicked our bedroom door open, barely feeling her weight in my arms. I headed straight to our bathroom, depositing her gently on the side of the tub.

"Anthony." She pleaded,

"What do you want me to say G? You don't heed my warnings. You do whatever you feel like, so what is it that you want me to say that I haven't said already?" I can't keep the malice out of my voice. I know I should be patient with her. It's harder for her than it is for me. She's been going through it her whole life, and I've only experienced half of it. And half of that time, I didn't even know. Still, I can't shake off my irritation.

"It's not like that..." She's still using that voice, making me angrier. I don't need to be manipulated right now. I need honesty. I'm tired of this back and forth.

"Yes, it is! I told you to stay far away from him, didn't I? But you went ahead and invited him to my house behind my back. To my fucking house Georgiana!" look for five things you can see. Four things you can touch. Three things you can hear. Two things you can smell. And focus on the taste in your mouth.

"It wasn't like that-" I taste blood.

"You are my wife Georgiana! I promised in front of God, our family and friends that I would protect you till death do us part! And you made me break that promise the minute you made up your mind to bring him here. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something worse had happened to you. It's bad enough that I couldn't protect you all those years ago, but I can now. And you won't let me! Do you have any bloody idea how frustrating that is?" five things you can see,

"I'm sorry Anthony, I didn't think it through." I see red. Red, red, red and more red.

"Obviously." I can't stop myself from staring at her. This is the woman I married, my high school sweetheart. Yet, I can't recognize her at all.

"What did he do to you?" I ask after a few beats of silence. I am burning to know. And if he has violated her ... four things you can touch.

"He didn't do anything." She says, her voice soft as a mouse. I put my hand on the glass wall overlooking my entire estate, the glass cold against my palm.

"I don't have the patience for more lies, G. What did he do to you?" there's a car driving out of the gate. It's not any of mine. He left. Good.

"He ... he uhm, he ... he wanted ..."

"Your words G, use them." My voice is calm. Three things you can hear.

"He wanted to take off my blouse. And when I refused and fought back, he slapped me. He said he was going to freshen up, and that's when I called you. When he came back and saw the phone in my hand, he ..." the rush of the water from the tap into the tub is a violent sound, resonating the rush of my blood to my head.

"Why can't you see that he wants to hurt you?" I ask her softly, struggling to comprehend why she doesn't see him for what he is.

"He didn't mean to do it. I angered him. It was my fault." It hurts me to hear my wife speaking like this. Georgiana is a head strong woman. She is bright and intelligent, and as sharp as a needle. But all of this flies out the window when you add her fucking twin in the mix.

"Baby," the sigh leaves without permission. Two things you can smell.

"No Anthony. George would never hurt me intentionally. I made him angry, that's why he lashed out. He's my brother, my twin brother for that fact. He would never hurt me." The scent from her bath salts erupted, making the whole room smell like lavender. I shut the water off.

Turning to my wife, I give her my hand, and help her stand. It hurts me to look at her face. Her beautiful face. He left a mark on her cheek, which I trace with the back of my fingers. She's wet with tears, her eyes and nose red and swollen. I undress her, making sure to be as gentle as possible. There are more marks on her arms and across her stomach. Focus on the taste in your mouth.

I finish undressing her and move to wipe her tears, but no, those aren't her tears that are blinding me. They are mine. Fuck. Five things you can see Anthony. The tub, the mat on the floor, the light, the clothes on the floor, Gia. She wraps her small arms around me, and I have to fight myself to keep from squeezing her against me. We stand there for a few moments, holding each other. How do I save someone who does not want to be saved?

I leave her to take a bath, I need a fucking drink. There go my plans for that car show, huh. Miss Wyatt is going to be so disappointed. Speaking of which, I need to find her and explain this entire mess. I'm such an ass. I pulled her out of school on her birthday only to throw her into the middle of this crap.

My living room is a mess. I should check on the staff. I can't believe Gia endangered them. What a fucking mess. Azania isn't in the lounge, could she have retreated to her room?

Cedric, our butler, appears from somewhere behind me. His ability to appear and disappear quietly unnerves me. He looks distraught. Silently, I walk towards the kitchen, Cedric on my heels. The sight in the kitchen almost breaks me. My staff is huddled in the corner, talking softly amongst each other. Fear and anxiety are hanging thick in the air, rousing my own. Cedric puts his gloved hand on my shoulder, his own way of providing comfort. He's been with me since I was an infant. I'm about to address the staff when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I wasn't even aware I still had it on me. It's George. Wyatt, not that son of a bitch. I'm nervous to take his call. Granted, he gave me permission to take Azania to the car show, but I don't know how he would feel about the events that happened here this morning. I press the green button.

"Anthony? Where are you?" the urgency in his voice stills me. He can't know. No one has said anything.

"I'm at the house, why?" I try to sound calm.

"Why is my daughter's phone spamming me with SOS texts? What the hell is going on?" he's screaming, and it takes me a moment to realize what he just said.

"Azania is here in the house with me." Right? As I say this, Cedric seems to understand what is going on because he instructs the staff to locate Azania immediately.

"Are you with her? Are you sure?" fivethingsyoucansee,fourthingsyoucantouch,threethingsyoucanhear,twothingsyoucansmell,focusonthetasteinyourmouth. I can't answer him. I'm running, calling out her name, kicking down doors. No.

Fivethingsyoucans- no! no no no no.

Where is she? I can't breathe. Cedric is talking, he looks worried. People are moving all around us. The phone in my hand is yanked away, I sink to my knees. The car.