The Devil’s Chaos (The Brotherhood #2)

37. Thirty-Seven

37

THIRTY-SEVEN

HAVEN

D eath felt different than I expected. I had always thought that when I died, there would be some bright light I needed to walk toward. At least, that’s what the movies and books said.

But they all lied.

There was no bright light.

There was only darkness.

An icy, impenetrable darkness that consumed you, leaving you paralyzed and powerless in its endless grip.

I struggled to remember what had happened to me. I was there at the club, helping Mila escape so that I could finally be free of my brother and his sick games. For so long, I had been a prisoner, all because I was a woman born into the Benson world. My father was equally as cruel as my brother. It takes a monster to create a monster. I was not raised in a home full of love. No, I was raised in a world of greed and death, one where the men took what they wanted, and if you dared to say no to them, you’d end up in a shallow grave, beaten, raped, and hardly human. Or worse yet, fed to the pigs, never to be found again.

That’s what happened to my mother.

She was strong and beautiful. Far too beautiful for my father. She protected me until it led to her death. It’s a strange thing that when you are dying, you start to remember things that you hid deep in the recesses of your mind. I was back on the day of my mother’s death—only six years old, not yet soiled by the cruelty of the world I was born into.

It was raining, and my mother had packed me into her black Lexus. We drove for hours before reaching a gas station in the middle of nowhere.

“Mommy is going to get some gas. Why don’t you go inside and get some snacks?” She handed me a twenty dollar bill and squeezed my hand.

“Okay, Mommy. Do you want anything?”

“No, darling. Make it quick. We need to get back on the road.”

I nodded and hopped out of the car, skipping toward the gas station door. It was one of those gas stations that still had a pay phone on the outside and one of those little carousels for children; the bright paint faded and chipped from years in the sun. I pushed the door open, the bell at the top chiming loudly to announce my arrival to the attendant. I walked through the aisles, looking for the candy aisle. I spotted it and grabbed my favorite purple bag with the words “Share Me” on the packaging. Standing on my tiptoes, I reached for chocolate milk, my fingers barely touching it before I heard a loud screeching noise. I looked over my right shoulder and saw a black suburban slide to a stop next to Mommy's car, and Daddy’s bodyguards emerged.

My mother’s strong hands grabbed me from behind, carried me into the back room of the gas station, and set me down behind some boxes that she had moved to create a tiny crawl space.

“Haven, Mommy needs you to play a game of hide and seek, except I need you to hide and not come out until Mommy and Daddy leave.” Her blue eyes were filled with tears, and her hands were ice cold and sweaty.

“No, Mommy. Don’t leave me.”

“Oh, sweet girl. Don’t be afraid. Once we are gone, you can come out and give this paper to the man at the register. Tell him to call this number. Someone will come and get you, and you’ll be safe.”

“But Mommy…you’re scaring me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, baby. I thought we’d have more time. I love you, my angel, always. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She planted kisses all over my cheeks and held my face in her hands, soaking in my appearance like it was the last time she would see me.

“Promise me, you’ll stay here until it’s quiet,” she whispered, the sound of the bell chiming at the entrance forcing her to lower her volume.

“I promise,” I nodded, tears running down my cheeks. I watched her disappear through the door, leaving me in the darkness. I clutched my doll tight between my fingers and stayed quiet, hidden behind the boxes, just like she instructed me.

Murmured voices drifted underneath the door, and it sounded like my mother was arguing with someone. There were sounds of commotion and glass breaking, followed by several popping noises. I tuned my ears in to listen for any noises that would tell me if it was quiet enough to leave my hiding place. The front bell chimed, and then more silence. I stayed in my hiding spot for a few minutes before the door to the backroom I was in opened. Curling into my body, I tried to make myself as small as possible. The sound of heavy footsteps walking in my direction had my heart racing. I tried to control my breathing, hoping whoever was out there wouldn’t hear me. I could tell by the sound of the footsteps that it was not my mother, and I was terrified.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, little Haven. It’s Sergei. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Sergei was my father’s right-hand man and had been with our family since I was born. As I aged, I heard that he was a high-ranking member of the Spetsnaz , the Russian equivalent of Navy Seals, but he had left Russia in search of a new family after the Pakhan of a prominent Bratva he was a part of was killed off. He had a penchant for blood and destruction, and he found a home with my father. I never knew why or how, but he had always been there. But until this day, I had always looked up to him as my silent protector.

I dared not move, not even a muscle, as his voice filled the room. His tone was smooth, but there was an underlying edge to it that sent shivers down my spine. I clutched my doll tighter, willing myself to be invisible and blend into the darkness surrounding me.

But fate had other plans for me that day.

Sergei seemed to sense my presence, his heavy footsteps drawing closer and closer until he stood right outside the stack of boxes behind which I crouched. I held my breath, praying that he wouldn’t find me, that he would give up and leave me alone so I could go and find my mommy. The smell of motor oil and dust filled my nostrils as I pressed my back against the wall, holding my breath.

“Haven, darling Haven,” Sergei crooned, his voice now just a whisper away. “There’s no need to hide. Your mommy and daddy are waiting for you outside.”

Silence.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of my breathing, loud in my ears, and fear gripped me like a vice. Then, suddenly, the footsteps retreated, moving away from the room I was hiding in. I held my doll so tightly that its eyes seemed to stare back at me accusingly. Every sound made me flinch. Every creak sent a jolt of fear through me. I needed to find my mommy. I summoned all my courage and peeked out from behind the boxes. The room was empty, bathed in a dim light that filtered in through a small window high above. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself up from the floor and crept toward the door. I strained my ears for any sign of danger, any hint that Sergei or anyone else was lurking nearby. I opened the door slowly and peered out into the deserted hallway, shadows dancing along the walls like specters. The air in the hallway was thick with the scent of gasoline and something else, something metallic that made my stomach churn. Clutching my doll, I stepped out into the hallway, and strong arms scooped me up, lifting me off the ground and holding me tight to their chest. I screamed and cried as the Skittles fell from my fingers, decorating the worn-out, stained carpet with small rainbow candies.

“Let me go!”

“Easy now, malyshka .” Sergei hushed. “It’s time for you to come out and join your father and mother.”

I fought against him, but my tiny fists were nothing against his large frame. It was like hitting a brick wall. We passed the counter, and the metallic smell got stronger. I saw the attendant crumpled up against the wall, blood splattered behind him, with little pieces of skull and brain matter decorating the wall and floor around him. That was the first time I saw a dead body, and I thought it would scare me and send me into a fit of hysterics, but all I could think about was whether or not they would be able to get the blood stain off the wall.

Sergei carried me out of the gas station, his grip firm and unyielding. As we emerged into the bright sunlight, I squinted, tears streaming down my cheeks as I frantically searched for my mother. Sergei carried me toward my father at the back of the Suburban, where he and his bodyguards stood with grim expressions on their faces. My mother lay crumpled in the back of the Suburban, her blue dress stained with blood. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to make sense of the scene before me.

My mother’s eyes met mine briefly before her head fell, unable to hold my gaze.

“Mommy!” I cried out, reaching toward her with outstretched arms. But Sergei held me back, his grip unyielding.

“Let her go, Sergei,” my father’s voice was cold and commanding. “She needs to see what happens when you betray me.”

Sergei hesitated momentarily before finally setting me down on the ground. I stumbled toward the back of the car and crawled into the back with my mother. I wrapped my arms around her, clinging to her, feeling the familiar safety of her embrace.

“Mommy. You’re bleeding,” I turned to look back at my father and Sergei, who made no effort to help her. I couldn’t understand why no one was helping her. “Daddy, Mommy needs help. She’s bleeding.”

My father’s expression was unreadable as he met my stare. I pressed my hands against her stomach, the source of the blood. The harder I pushed, the more the hot crimson blood seeped through my fingers, covering my hands and dripping onto the floor.

My mother’s hands trembled as she reached out for me. “My love, I’m so…sorry.”

“This is your fault, Maria,” my father’s voice said menacingly.

“Abel, please don’t make her watch this,” my mother pleaded. “She’s just a little girl.”

“It’s time she learns what it means to betray a Benson. You’ve kept her sheltered too long.”

He nodded to Sergei, who closed the liftgate door. I watched them walk around and get into the front and middle seats, where one of the guards kept their gun pointed at my mother. My father’s driver drove us farther away from the city and into the country. I kept my hands pressed tight against my mother’s wound and curled into her body, trying to keep her warm. Her skin felt so cold, and her body trembled.

“It’s going to be okay, my love,” she whispered against my forehead as the car drove farther into the countryside.

As the sun began to set, we stopped by a large red barn in the middle of an open field. A quaint white farmhouse stood close by, with an old blue truck parked in front of it.

The liftgate opened, and I held onto my mother for dear life.

“Let’s go, Haven,” my father’s cold voice ordered me.

“Where are we, Daddy?” I asked, looking up at him with tears in my eyes.

“Get out of the car, now!” he yelled, sending chills down my spine.

I stayed rooted to my spot, crossing my arms in defiance. He nodded toward Sergei, and I was lifted from the car like a rag doll. I squirmed, trying to get away from him, but his grip was too strong.

“Mommy! Mommy, help!”

The barn door opened, and the cold, stale air hit us as we stepped inside. I looked around, taking in the damp hay and the shadowy corners. It was dark and smelled of mold, decay, and an overpowering stench of pig manure. Sergei carried me toward a wooden pen, and I peeked over the wooden fence to see several big pigs rustling around in the mud before he set me down.

“Bring her over here,” my father instructed another one of his bodyguards. He carried my mother’s limp body toward the gate. Her trembling body shook harder as she struggled to breathe, and her face was now ghostly pale, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to stand, and I reached out to help her, but her body slumped to the ground.

“Mommy?” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. Her cold fingers brushed against mine, and I held on, not wanting to let go.

“What did you think you were doing, Maria? Did you really think you could escape with my only daughter? My child?

“What are you doing to her?” I looked toward my father, who stared at my mother with a stare I had never witnessed before. His light blue eyes were darker, devoid of emotion.

There was nothing there, and I was terrified.

My father nodded toward his bodyguards, and I watched as they walked over to my mother and picked her up underneath her armpits. I could see the blood that had soaked through the fabric of her once pristine blue dress, and my heart ached as I watched my father approach her with a long, thin knife. I held my breath, fearing what was about to happen, but unable to tear my eyes away.

“Mommy? What’s happening?”

“Abel, please don’t make her watch this. If you ever loved me, please grant me this,” my mother begged, tears running down her pale cheeks, her skin a dusky color and sweat covering her brow.

Her voice made my stomach drop. The desperation and fear dripping off her lips starkly contrasted with the calm, soothing voice I knew. My father moved the knife swiftly and with purpose, slicing into the flesh of my mother’s stomach. Blood gushed out in a torrent, splattering all over him.

My mother’s screams echoed through the barn as she begged him to stop.

But he didn’t.

He kept cutting and cutting until her head fell, lifeless, her blood-stained, thin frame held up only by the arms of the bodyguards at either side. They tossed her over the wooden fence into the pig pen as if she weighed nothing. I shook my head, trying to deny the reality being presented before me, but I was met with a firm grip on my arm. Sergei dragged me toward the pen, and I fought every step of the way.

Was my father going to hurt me next? Would he throw me over the pen like my mother?

Sergei picked me up, forcing me to look at my mother’s lifeless body, strewn carelessly and without love, covered in blood and mud. Her olive skin was a sickly green, and her hollow eyes met mine. I could see the fear and pain she was trying to communicate. I screamed her name, but it was drowned out by the echo of my father’s voice.

“This is what happens to people who think they can betray me, Haven. This is a lesson she will remember forever, Maria.”

Pigs grunted and squealed around her, their eyes reflecting curiosity and something else.

Hunger.

My father’s lips twisted into a cruel smile as the pig’s eyes locked onto my mother's body. Their curious grunts turned into a low, menacing growl as they closed in around her.

“There’s no running from the legacy I’ve created, Daughter. You will learn to live with what you’ve seen today, and you will carry it for the rest of your life.” He grabbed my chin, digging his thin fingers into my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. “If you ever think of following in your mother’s footsteps, I will make this punishment look like a mere drop in a bucket.”

I tried to scream, to tell him that I would never betray him, to please let my mother go and grant her mercy, but my voice caught in my throat. Instead, the piercing sound of her agonizing screams forced me to turn and face her. I watched as the pigs feasted on her flesh, the stench of manure and blood overwhelming my senses. I tried to close my eyes to block out the horrifying image, but Sergei forced my eyes open.

My whole world shattered as the pigs tore into my mother’s body, their grunts and snorts echoing through the barn. Sergei’s grip on me tightened, my father’s voice ringing in my ears, reminding me of my place in this twisted world that he had created. I wanted to run, to escape, but I was frozen in fear as my body shook uncontrollably.

I looked down at my mother’s mutilated body, her once beautiful eyes vacant and lifeless. Tears streamed down my face, and I felt the weight of my mother's death bearing down on me. My father ordered Sergei to take me back to the car. I couldn't move, I couldn't cry, I couldn't scream. I was frozen, trapped in my own nightmare.

In the car, I curled up in the backseat, trying to remember what my mother had taught me, the things she whispered in my ear, the stories she had told me to help me sleep at night. But all I could think about was the monster who had taken her from me, the man who claimed he loved me but had shown me nothing by cruelty and betrayal.

My father .