Leashed

Chapter 12

The pair of florescent lamps nailed on the ceiling just had to be too bright that she regretted waking up. Her eye lids felt heavy as she slowly adjusted her vision as well as her other senses.

She caught a familiar tangy odor combined with that of medicine--the kind that she'd never be partial to--the smell of any hospital ward. Overhead, there was dextrose dripping sluggishly, and to her left, the sliding glass door revealed to her the image of twilight beyond a small balcony.

She didn't wonder why she was in a hospital, yet it was surprising, to her, that she was alive. When she was falling from the high cliff, significant events in her life flashed before her very eyes. Her parents separated. Her mother left to be with another man. Sol came to her life fixated on masochism. He became obsessed with her, but he was nowhere near her when she needed him the most. Her father exploited the opportunity and forced her to marry Ohm. She ran away on the day of her wedding. Then, with the help of Joule, she came to Cebu. Weeks later, she learned that he was comatose. She wandered aimlessly until she came to Carcar and met someone who drove her away but saved her from would-have-been rapists. The man mysteriously left, and Ohm found her. She tried to escape, but she fell from a cliff.

None of those were part of her plan. She realized that all of those made up a tremendous mistake, but she had been too proud to admit it to herself. She refused to do so, since it pained her ego; it pained to learn that she wasn't as invincible as she thought she was.

Then, as if on cue, a swelling pain unloosed from different parts of her body. There was a cast on her right leg, and her arms and forehead were covered in bandages.

"You're finally awake. That's good."

The voice alone was enough for her to know who it was. She knew him unfortunately too well.

With his leg overlapping the other, Ohm sat on the couch near the foot of her hospital bed. He plastered a lopsided smile while looking intensely at her.

Neoma gritted her teeth as she remembered that he was the reason why she is in this state.

"Damn you," she bitterly muttered. She was still too weak to vent her full disgust towards him.

"Look how you've fallen." He said, meaning this to be figurative and literal.

She shot him a glare, wishing so much that it would faze him--kill him even. "I don't want to see you. Get out of my sight."

He then stood and smirked while he walked towards her. Abruptly, he slapped her square in the face. It was too loud and tempestuous that it made her head tilt to the side.

"You son of a--" She retorted but was cut again with another slap.

He didn't give her another chance to badmouth him. He slapped her left and right, again and again, letting out his pent-up rage to the point that her face painfully reddened.

She was boiling inside and frustrated that she didn't have the strength to fight back.

"You bastard. You bastard. You bastard." This was like a mantra that she uttered over and over again that only stopped when he brutally pulled her hair.

Her refusal to succumb to tears fueled his desire to make her cry. She feebly raised her arms to defend herself, but he swatted them away and stared closely to her eyes.

"I will not permit you to treat me like trash ever again. You will only be my wife; nothing more, nothing less. You will never be above me. I will rip you to shreds until you tell me to stop and beg for mercy."

On the contrary, instead of getting irked, she smiled at him sarcastically. "Just who do you think you're telling that to? And just how much do you think you have to subjugate me?"

"Oh really?"

She then horrifyingly looked at where his other hand was going when it peeled off her blanket. It brushed against her leg then sneaked higher up under her hospital gown until it reached her hip, sensually pinching it.

"Bastard! Asshole! Stop that!"

He started to pull down her underwear, but she managed to trap his hand over the thin fabric.

"You filthy bastard."

Ohm smiled like a victor when he saw her tear broke free; he was convinced that it wasn't because she was hurt all over, but because she lost and lost whatever might she had before.

They were then interrupted by the moan of the door being opened, and there came an addition to her torment. Old Gello, Bun and along with other men were behind him.

"Ohm, hijo, can I talk to my daughter?"

Her eyes widened. Dealing with Ohm was already exhausting, but her father was on a different level. He looked even more menacing than ever before. She never knew that she was terrified of him until he grinned at her.

Ohm retreated back to the couch and watched her father approach her.

"Neoma, hija, I've been worried about you! How are you feeling?" His tone was that of a father overly affectionate towards his child. But of course, we know it's not like that.

In shock, she couldn't speak and just allowed him to embrace her and tuck a bundle of hair behind her ear.

"My poor, poor Neoma. How saddening to have my sweet daughter suffer like this!"

As if pulled from a trance, she scoffed at him. There was also that urge to vomit since his words were nauseating. After hearing those, she wanted to clean her ears until they bleed.

"It saddens you?"

"Of course, it does, hija. I care for you because I am your father after all."

She scowled. "Prove it. If you truly care for me," she looked at Ohm, "Why don't you show it by killing that son of a b***h first?"

He looked at Ohm then to Neoma again. "Hija, it's not good to derogate your future husband like that."

She weakly shoved her father. "You know that I don't want to marry him! Why do you have to force me?!"

"Hija, it has to be that way. I'm sorry."

"No. You're not sorry. Damn you to hell! I loathe you. I hope both you and that asshole Ohm die!"

"It has to be that way, hija. I'm sorry."

Behind his calm demeanor was a man who was rejoicing in how quenching it was to see her disconsolate. To him, it was the same with making her mother suffer before him. In the past weeks, he contacted his ex-wife and reported to her, in detail, how her daughter was pathetically trying to get away from his ploys. Gumamela wanted to reach out to her just like before, but he threatened her that her family will be massacred if she dare interfered. He told her to just be an spectator and watch how Neoma will fall into ruin.

"Oh, and hija, there's another thing I have to apologize to you. The other day, Sol came back from Hong Kong."

"Where is he?"

"That's what I need to apologize about. He's dead."

Skeptical, she eyed her father. "What do you mean?"

"He ambushed us, and he was after me. Gello had no choice but to kill him."

"What the hell are you talking about? He would never--" She did her earnest to sit upright but accidentally rolled over and fell from her bed in a loud thud to the floor. The needle on her hand was yanked and the stand where the dextrose was hung got toppled towards the bed.

"Tell me. That's not true. Sol is not weak. He's my dog! He would never die that easily. You're lying!"

Wile looked down at her and put on the most counterfeit of his rueful expressions. "I'm sorry, hija. This was the only thing left of him."

Gello inched forward and handed her something. She confirmed that it was what she gave him on his twenty-first birthday. It was the silver Breitling watch that she told him never to lose.

Gello then told a junior to call for the doctor while his boss and Ohm left behind a dumbstruck heiress blankly staring at the watch's broken crystal.

The Night Before

Boooogggsssh! Boooogggsssh!

Bun swerved the car to a stop and barely avoided crashing into a column in the underground garage of Petrobel. He looked past the windows and the windshield, but there was only the unsettling quietude of the evening. They were supposed to head back to the Belmonte Estate; however, both the tires in front had been wrecked.

"What was that?!" Cried Gello. There were gunshots--he was doubtless of it--but he didn't know who fired these. He looked behind him to check on Wile. "Are you alright, Boss?"

His boss was in the back seat, composed and smirking. "Oh, I most certainly am. Look in front though, and see who's back."

A figure in a red hoodie was hastily walking towards them. He did not only have a gun, but he also had a maniacal grin.

"Sol." The right hand uttered.

He wasn't quite surprised that he was already in the Philippines. Just the other day, their counterparts in Hong Kong informed them of his escape. This was something his boss had expected yet didn't really take seriously. As usual, he just can't piece how this goes according to his boss' liking.

He could sense the madness in Sol, and it was overwhelming.

"Bun, get out and take the Boss away from here."

Bun frowned and pulled out his gun. "No, man. We can shoot him dead."

"You don't know how crazy he is."

"There's no way--"

Both of them ducked since bullets pierced through the windshield--rigid, loud and perilous. Sol shot them again and again until the gun's magazine was empty.

"Just go!" The aged man yelled at Bun. He found the chance to open the door at his side and immediately released shots at Sol when he reloaded.

He dodged and found a shield in a concrete column.

The other bodyguard complied and quickly escorted his boss away from the commotion. Sol noticed this and aimed his gun at them. Gello, nonetheless, was still brisk for his age and caught him off guard. His hand sprang from below his elbow and smacked his gun. This flung to a compromising distance.

The senior continued his assault utilizing both his punches and kicks with his gun.

The dog mentally complimented his opponent; he wasn't branded as the "Underground Beast" for nothing before. Even he had to admit to himself that he was the only one from the Belmonte henchmen who could best him. When Gello threw a raging punch, a gunshot would follow, and if neither of those succeeded, a crushing kick would land.

For a brief moment, he couldn't fight back and only moved backwards to defend himself. His arms were battered as he made them cover his face from the aged man's hits, and when he lowered them, a fist broke his nose and made him stumble back.

"Boy, know your place," he mocked and pointed his gun at him.

Unfazed, Sol stood straight and laughed aloud which made Gello's brow rise.

"I think you already know where my place is," he said while glaring at him.

He pulled the trigger. But Sol aesthetically evaded the bullets like a serene wave that initially hid its danger.

He clenched his teeth, and his eyes were angered. "You already know that my place is by Neoma's side!"

His shift was splitting that the older man couldn't make out how he crept and slid his shin and bashed his right calf, robbing his balance. The junior twisted his body and struck a racking kick to his face, toppling him to the ground and making him lose grip on his gun.

Gello quickly regained his equilibrium and stood up while dodging and defending himself.

"How dare you tear me apart from Neoma!"

He was livid, and he had seen this type of Sol before. It wasn't fresh news to him that he is obsessed with their young mistress, and it wasn't new to him that he was in a frenzy to kill anyone whom he thought will try to take Neoma away. And this is the second time he wanted to kill their boss.

"Where is she?! What did you do to her?!" His voice has gotten rasp and his movements have gotten wilder. He was now resolved on killing him. In his eyes, he has become a rabid dog after being torn away from his master.

Sure, he was on par with his kinesthetic ability, yet his adrenaline has toughened him up more. His blows were getting rougher that a few more hits and he'll be imperiled, specifically that one strike that coincidentally rammed his silver watch to the concrete. Pieces of cement dropped on the ground along with the broken device.

"I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to kill Wile Belmonte. I'm going to kill everyone who wishes to separate me and Neoma!" Sol roared.

Obsession can certainly make a person crazy, but Gello didn't like extending this fight. He had to end this before he'd go careless to give him an opportunity to kill him. He spotted Sol's gun a few feet behind him.

He let his slicing blow pass over his shoulder but then grabbed Sol by the wrist, elbowed his ribs, and simultaneously trampled his knee caps forcing him to kneel.

Sol clutched on his rib cage. The pain was excruciating that he had it hard to breathe for a moment. He couldn't even recoil when Gello somersaulted over him. He was already late to notice that he grabbed his gun, and even later to elude when the muzzle connected to his chest and a bullet went through it.

His body shivered. The gunshot was boiling hot, and it ripped through his flesh. He gasped.

His aged opponent wanted to make certain that he'd be dead and pulled the trigger again and again but no more bullets came out.

However, he disallowed himself to die just like that. With his last ounce of energy, he plastered his palm on his wound. He stood, grabbed Gello's nape and kneed him straight to the face.

Disoriented, Gello couldn't observe how Sol struggled to get away. Just around this time, three black cars arrived. Other members of the Belmonte henchmen had come.

"Follow that trail of blood. Sol couldn't get that far," he angrily directed to which they obliged.

Wile stepped out of the car which didn't go in search of Sol, and Gello heard him applaud.

"Impressive, Gello. It looks like you won," he said.

"I did my best, Boss," he replied while letting the stinging on his face subside.

"It would have been nice if his corpse is here while I spit on it. Why did you have to let him get away?"

He knew it; his boss wasn't glad about how this turned out to be. "I apologize, Boss. But I'm sure he wouldn't live through severe blood loss."

"I wonder about that."

A little while later, Wile's men returned empty-handed. "Sir, I'm afraid we lost him," one of them said.

He had a grim look on his face, signifying his disgruntlement. "You let him get away, I see. It can't be helped, since you're all useless."

The night ended with them not being able to look their boss in the eye, and with the right-hand man regretting not finishing off Sol when he had the chance to.

Gello was dubious about the fate of Sol after their skirmish. There was a great chance that he'd be dead since he had taken a hit in one his vitals, but it's him being taken into context. He remembered that he was the only one from the men who serve the Belmontes who didn't need to be trained how to fight. There was even that day when he broke the limbs of six of their fellow bodyguards and stabbed one to near death just to get back at their boss who slapped the then young mistress. He is naturally gifted kinesthetically, and what makes him amazing is his drive to be stronger: his obsession towards Neoma. He didn't find it odd that Sol is like that, since he reflected him. He is also leashed to Wile, doing anything for his benefit.

The aged man understood why his boss would feed his daughter with something unconfirmed about her dog, borderline to a lie. He really wants to see her suffer which Gello, now, couldn't care less. If this made him satisfied, then so be it.

The door clacked and out came Bun from Neoma's private ward. He was slightly shaking his head, finding him leaning on the wall on guard by the doorway.

"Tsk. Tsk. I really feel bad for Miss Neoma. She's so quiet and unresponsive; it's so uncanny. I'm not used to her not being nasty," Bun said.

Gello had not expected this; none of the Belmonte henchmen did, considering the nature of the heiress. They thought that she'd be whining or going amuck, reprobating in her earnest how she's confined in the hospital and in the manipulative claws of her father. But what happened had been the opposite. For days now, she did nothing but stare catatonically at the broken watch he handed to her. It was like she lost the will to go on living. Speculations have now risen that the death of Sol may have affected her nobly. The bodyguards are now insinuating that she may have been in love with him, but she was too proud to acknowledge it to herself.

Love? He wondered if she, like her father, is truly capable of developing that emotion. The way he sees it, they can only be insatiably selfish, but he didn't dislike that.

"I wish she'd be back to normal." He heard Bun continue.

Back to normal, huh? He marvels at her current situation too, if she really is not normal right now.

Waaaaaaaaah! Waaaaaaaaah! Waaaaaaaaah!

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha." He panted.

"You there! Stop running!" A Police Chief Master Sergeant yelled to him through a megaphone.

It really had not occurred to him even the slightest that in the 30th of December in Simala, a peaceful barangay of Sibonga, south of Carcar would be where he would be recognized. Moments earlier, he was just eating betamax (dried chicken blood that is shaped into cubes and cooked on grill), yet now, three police mobiles were chasing after him. It turned out that someone in the plaza who followed the news about the Peter Bueno murder case discerned that he was that main suspect whom the authorities were accentuating. Unfortunately, he sold himself out when he took off his mask to eat.

He had been incautious, and he wanted to smack himself for dragging himself into this quagmire, but he ascertained that with what he did, he was bound to get caught. Maybe, it was this time.

He wondered where the agility in his feet went off to; these felt heavy as he ran. He thought that it might be because he didn't have a proper meal for the day, but he later concluded that he just didn't have enough motivation to get away from the police. It was as if he had given up and was waiting for a point where he'll get caught again. If he had wanted to, he could have attacked this handful of officers and killed them on the spot, but he wasn't motivated to do so. He had nothing against them; they didn't do him anything wrong.

He finally came to a narrow passageway between two commercial establishments where a huge concrete wall blocked his path. He turned around to face the police officers who were pointing their guns at him. The bright headlights of their automobiles made him squint.

"Stand down! Don't try to do anything funny!" The senior officer said.

He raised both of his hands as a mark of surrender; however, he wasn't actually planning of going back to prison. For sure, the filthy rich families of his victims will pay the other prisoners to kill him. If he were to die, it should be today.

He quickly took out his knives and armed his hands; then with the speed likened to that of lightning, he went swift and straight to the policemen. Shots were fired, yet none hit.

He leapt to the nose of the automobile in front, flipped in the air over the head of the senior officer, landed on his feet and went on as if to stab the newbie officer behind.

"You better behave, you murderer," the senior officer bitterly told him, and he felt the tip of his gun on his scalp.

The junior policeman heaved as he almost wet his pants. He observed how calmly the wanted criminal dropped his knives.

"Do it then, Sir. I have no intention of surviving through this night anyway."

The policeman scoffed. "That's what we are here to do."

The criminal closed his eyes, awaiting for his doom. A gunshot was then heard, but nothing blew through his head.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhh!" The scream of the senior officer followed. His hand which was holding a gun had been shot.

Dumbfoundingly, other gunshots were fired from above, hitting the police officers, one by one.

"You had an accomplice?!" The officer fumingly asked.

Even he himself did not know who would want to let him escape from the police's grasp.

He gazed above them and saw a dark silhouette--a man whose face he couldn't clearly see. He then promptly picked up his knives on the ground and hurled one to him, to stop him from hurting more of the policemen. The man, nonetheless, adroitly evaded it and retreated where he couldn't spot him.

Leaving behind the shouting injured officers, the wanted criminal made use of the walls close to each other and hopped from one side to the other over and over again until he reached the rooftop where he saw the man.

The second he got there, he launched himself and charged at him with fatal slices. The man, likewise, equalled the intensity of his assault, and used the two guns he's holding for both defense and offense.

"I hope you realize that right now, I want to kill you," he said when they came to a halt as their weapons locked.

The man grinned, and it irked him that he wanted to brush it off his face. "Too bad, I'm not here to kill you though," the man said.

They both backed away and studied each other with the wind blowing from their side.

"Greetings, Owel Balasik," the man then joyously said.

The moon was peculiarly bright tonight that it gave him the liberty to clearly see how the man in front of him looked like. His eyes are small, and he is shorter than him by a few centimeters.

"What do you want, and who are you?" He asked.

"Knowing me is not important, but what I'm going to offer you is," he replied.

"And what is that?"

"My master wants your service. She has seen how remarkable you are; also, I've validated that."

"What kind of service does your 'master' think I can give her?"

"The kind of service where you will defend her or even die for her."

He couldn't help but scoff since the offer sounded so outrageous. "Die for her? Seriously? How important does she think she is?"

"Oh, she's very important to me and to you, especially that she's the one keeping your parents safe."

Something snapped in his head that made him rush to the man before him. He tightly grabbed his collar and pointed his knife at him. "What do you mean?! Did you kidnap my parents?"

The man chuckled. "No, of course not, buddy! My master simply gave them a place to hide from Senator Bueno's wrath."

His facial expression spewed out complete skepticism, but the mention of the senator's name somehow convinced him. "W-What? Where are they?!"

The man carefully removed his grip from his collar and pushed away his hand clutching a knife. "If you want to know, come with me. My master is eager to meet you."

"Who is that person anyway?"

"You'll meet her soon." He smirked. "And by the way, my name is 'Sol.' Nice to meet you."

The sound of fireworks was audible and the giddiness of everyone could be heard in the streets. But none of those were to her interest.

Neoma was still in her ward, ignoring Ohm's two men--Hart and Benjie--standing by on a corner. The older one was unnerved with her presence, yet the latter loved every moment of being able to stare at her comely face.

The door was then opened and their Boss Ohm entered. Just as he saw her, he was annoyed of her dormancy. "How pathetic! Maybe we should send you to a mental institute already."

What annoyed him more was the notion that Sol dying had elephantine impact on her, so he must have meant a lot to her; whereas, even when he's here, she rendered him invisible. Maybe when he'd be the one to die, she'd be laughing her heart out.

Inflamed, he dashed to her and firmly cupped her chin. "Look at me, b***h! Sol is never coming back. He already rots in hell! You will only have me for the rest of your miserable life."

She still didn't respond and just impassively looked at him. This made him slap her square on the face. But at this juncture, she smiled at him and spoke which startled him.

"Let me tell you something, Ohm. Do you know why I will never fall for you?"

He glowered at her. "Hmm?"

"It's because you're stupid."

Electricity was then temporarily cut off. Owel was in the electrical room to do it.

"What the--?" Ohm wondered.

When it was turned back on, Sol was already behind him easily beating to dreamland Hart and Benjie.

Earlier

Neoma quietly commended herself; she should be given an accolade for her acting. She looked at the dots and dashes carved on the clasp of the Breitling watch old Gello gave her.

...--...-...-..-....-......-..

"I will be there." That's what it said. It is Morse code, and she was the one who taught him that.

"Good boy," she silently muttered. It looks like she won't be spending the New Year which was half an hour away inside the hospital.

On the night after her father paid her a visit and told her that Sol died, she noticed the code. And on the struck of 12 and with her watchers, one asleep and the other out, he came to see her.

"Neoma, I missed you so much." His tone was as though he garnered all the affection in the world in that single sentence.

He then stooped, buried his face on her chest and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry I'm late. Thank God you're alive."

Neoma moved to brush his hair lovingly then cupped and lifted his face to stare at his eyes which looked like tears were about to spill. "Yes, Sol. I'm alive, and I'm also glad to see you. You fought with old Gello, right? How did you--?"

He collected her left hand and guided it to his chest. She felt the dressing under his shirt.

"I was shot here, but I survived because I wanted to see you so bad; it suffocated me."

She innocently smiled at him while she caressed his dressed wound. She kept doing so until he felt it stung. She was doing it on purpose until she suddenly poked her finger to it.

Sol clenched his teeth to avoid letting out a moan because of the pain, yet as he is, he still found it pleasurable.

She gazed at him angrily while she tortured him. "Where were you? I kept calling you, but you weren't there. You don't know how much I suffered because you were not with me."

He countered an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I really am. I won't be away from you ever again. I promise you that."

Neoma then brought his face closer to hers and kissed him full on the lips.

It was utterly astonishing to him and bewitching. He never thought that this moment would come where the woman whom he devotes his whole life to but never showed him affection would kiss him with ample passion like he was the only man who mattered in her world. He was drowning in ecstasy--drowning more into her manipulation with her eyes open.

When she severed herself from his still athirst lips, she asked him, "Sol, do you care for me?"

His eyes were delirious as he answered, "Yes, very much, Neoma."

She embraced him and whispered to his ear. "Then, I want you to do something for me."

"Yes, I will do anything for you."

She smirked at his reply. "Good boy."

When Ohm turned around, a bullet dove into each of his legs, and he fell to the floor.

"f**k you!" He shouted. "Aaaaack!"

Sol gently tore Neoma from her hospital bed and carried her.

In his mad attempt, however, Ohm pulled out his gun but couldn't fire it since Sol had overrun him with a shot to his shoulder.

"Aaaaaaah! f**k you! Damn it! f**k you!" Cried him.

Sol aimed at his head, but Neoma stopped him. "Don't, Sol. Let him suffer like that." And then, she smirked at Ohm.

"Ciao," she mockingly told him.

All he could then do was helplessly stare at them as they jumped off from the balcony.