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Merciless Love: A Dark Romance(6)

By:icole Snow


Fuck. I looked for a reason – any reason – to patch her up and let her go at the nearest rest stop.

Nothing. Nothing in my sick head to cling to. She was so perfectly alone, and I'd probably just killed the only fucker who'd ever come looking for her. My mind was made up.

I dragged her back to my car like the fucking devil I am.

No, dammit, there wasn't an alternative. If I left her there with the fuck-head I'd destroyed, she'd be somebody else's problem. Last thing I needed was the police finding her or some do-gooder, let alone more of her fucked up brothers and sisters. If the cult took her, she wouldn't ever see the outside world alive.

So what? Not like she's gonna see shit with you, I thought, clenching my jaw until the pain blotted out the doubt, sinister truths I wasn't in any mood to hear.

As soon as I got her in the car, I was numb. We took off, with her passed out in my seat. For all I knew, she might be torn up too bad for what I needed, and then I'd have to watch her suffer in my own fucking house.

Just now, I didn't care. All I could think about was Ty.

He needed a human sacrifice to set him free, and now a blushing virgin had just fallen into my fucking lap.

If I were an ordinary man, picking her up like this and beating her asshole abuser to death would've made me a hero. Maybe I still was while she snoozed in my backseat, twisting when I turned too sharply, making hurt little sighs that made my heart bleed venom.

Hero or not, it was all goddamned temporary. Soon as I got her home, I'd be reminded what I was, and she'd see the truth.

Her beauty didn't mean shit, and neither did her pain.

I wasn't her savior. Not even close. I was about to become her judge, jury, and quite possibly, her executioner.

She didn't wake up the entire ride. I checked to see she was breathing as I pulled into my big secluded garage. I parked and lifted her by the legs, holding her like a kitten as I carried her into my house.

My fingers touched her cold neck. Wasn't the first time I checked her pulse on the ride in.

A sick part of me deep down almost hoped she'd die. Then I wouldn't be responsible for what was about to happen next. I wouldn't have to give her to a monster, and become one in the fucking process.

Sure as shit, it didn't happen that way. It never does. For a bastard like me, her dying would've been too easy.

I laid her in the room I'd picked out for this occasion.

No sign of Izzy. The bitch had no doubt drank herself into a day long coma, same as she'd been doing all summer. Fine. I wouldn't have to tell her about the girl and deal with her shit until she woke up and started riding my ass.

I spent a long time sitting across from the sweet young thing I laid out in the bed. More sickness swept into my rotten brain like a poison tide.

Fuck, she was beautiful. Her sleek brown hair had just a hint of cinnamon red, glowing through the wetness. Yeah, she was a mess, but I hadn't seen a finer woman since the one I'd lost. The girl looked fragile and full figured all at once, the kinda woman a man should kill for to protect.

Only you've got it backwards, Evan. You're more like her murderer. Not her fucking guardian.

Cut the crap and stop playing hero. You've got a job to do.

I tensed up, roaring inwardly until the sardonic voice in my brain shut the fuck up.

If I had any conscience left, I shouldn't have been looking at her like this. But what the hell was I supposed to do with her laid out, dripping wet and so damned helpless?

I was a red blooded man, goddammit.

All the shit I'd stepped in hadn't ruined those instincts. Took a lot to do it, and I couldn't keep them buried when she was in her bra and panties, pale skin shining and seductive.

My hand trembled a little when I drew the blanket off her, studying her soft outline, tracing her supple curves with my hungry eyes.

Strange to see a woman's shape all mixed up with a girl's innocence, but I guessed most of the poor girls who ended up in Beacon Grove were like this. If the fucker I'd killed hadn't defiled her, she was probably still a virgin.

Virgin. Fuck me again.

There was no doubt about it: I'd found a girl for Borzia. Soon as she woke up and the bloody lashes on her back were all healed, the real hell was going to begin, and I was the jackass who'd marry her off to Satan himself.

I let her sleep for hours before I moved. When she stirred a little, I walked to the bathroom attached to the room, grabbing alcohol and gauze. I should've done it right away, but fuck, sleep was the best thing for her after getting beat up like that and watching me destroy the asshole attacking her.

She wasn't fully awake when I poured the stuff on her back. Her eyes instantly flew open, and she gripped the edges of the blankets, hissing through her teeth.

“Owww! Where am I? What is this place?”

Her questions surprised me. I didn't expect her to be so coherent, worrying about her location instead of the blinding pain prickling at her back.