Merciless Love: A Dark Romance(62)

Dangerous business pays better than anything, and this fuck is loaded. He laughs at my offers and doesn't tell me what the hell he wants until he's good and ready.

The bastard needs a slave. “Companions,” he calls them, women so physically and mentally fucked they disappear after a few months. They're usually poor bitches his thugs buy off the black market, straight outta Eastern Europe.

This time, he wants an American girl, and he wants me to wrangle her up. He's no dumbass. Bastard coughed up the best goddamned torture he could've thought up in his warped little brain.

By this time, Izzy's losing her fucking mind with drink and being cooped up in this house, waiting to hear about her sister and our boy. When I tell her what he wants, she starts to ride my ass. The guilt that ate her up and set you free wasn't there while she was hitting the sauce.

She tells me we better do anything to bring them back. I pussied out. Didn't want to drag an innocent girl into this, much less one who'll be going to her to doom with Borzia.

I should've fucking listened. If I'd given him what he wanted, then and there, I wouldn't have put you through this shit. I wouldn't have had to watch what happened next. I only would've had to beat my brains out against the wall until I forgot all about doing wrong to some poor bitch.

Adrenaline hit. Pure adrenaline dumped into my veins. Even leaning on this soft, understanding angel didn't help.

Whenever I pictured it, my fucking heart almost exploded, alive with the rage I'd tried to contain for so long and couldn't anymore.

I had to keep it together. I had to re-walk the nightmare and take Cassie with me.

I did the stupidest thing I could've done, babe. I waited until he called me up, then told him to his face there was no fucking deal, and there never would be.

Bastard took it like a challenge.

Next thing I knew, he was on the line again, just a few hours later. This time, he had Jenny strapped in a chair, looking right at me. Her scared, sweet face told me what I already knew: I'd ruined myself and butchered my family.

When I thought he was going to rape her in front of me, I went berserk. If only I were so fucking lucky.

The motherfucker didn't say a damned thing. Just pulled two huge daggers and held them to her neck, hooked around her skin like scimitars. Jenny was looking at the ground, silent and accepting, ready to die for my mistake.

Prophet or bullshit, I don't care. If there's a heaven, she's got to be there after sacrificing herself for me and Ty.

I watched the whole thing.

Borzia cut her throat in one jerk. My vision went red with rage and blood and horror. Nearly tore the whole fucking house apart before I blacked out. Last thing I remember was laying on the ground, watching the screen before blood red turned black.

I let it drain. I cried. I wept like a fucking bitch.

Borzia kicked the love of my life on the ground like she was garbage! I'll never forget it, babe. Never!

Won't pretend it means anything more profound than I'm a fuckup, and I deserve to suffer.

See, Jenny's dull eyes burned a hole in my soul and her blood stained my evil ass forever. Borzia made his damned point: he was willing to kill and destroy everything I ever cared about if I didn't give him what he wanted.

He killed her without batting a fucking eye, and he wouldn't hesitate to murder my son too. I was lost.

I was ready to give him what he wanted 'til yesterday. I was gonna do it, babe, and use you to get Ty home. If Izzy's guardian angel hadn't come back and perched on her shoulder, I would've given you up.

I would've fucked up again and damned myself with the unthinkable.

I'd only blacked out twice in my life. One time happened when I was a dumb kid and this big gorilla biker broke my jaw after I hit on his old lady at a bar. The second time was when I saw my wife's dead eyes and dark red blood – so much fucking blood – thick murder that should've made it impossible to feel a damned thing ever again.

I felt detached, like I was going to fall over and crush her to the floor. I shook my head, fighting the sensation.

“You understand now?” I growled. “I don't give a shit if I came to my senses, Cassie. My fuckup killed my wife, and it would've killed you too if I'd thrown you to the wolf in the white suit. If I don't figure something out, it's still gonna kill my son. I'm a walking curse, babe, and the nightmare you've lived isn't gonna end as long as you're with me.”

Her eyes were huge. Speaking of blood, I was sure she'd torn into my skin with her nails. My fucked up brain enjoyed the tiny warm trickle rolling toward my ass where she clenched me.

All of a sudden, she let go and jerked back. “Oh my God...I'm sorry!”

She looked at her hands. Yep, blood under her nails, but only a little bit. I shook my head.

In the grand scheme of things, bleeding out my confession didn't matter. Hell, it was a match for the way I tore myself open and spilled my poisoned soul, dark and thick as Jenny's blood.