I wished I could enter her mind and see which asshole haunted her.
My hands curled at the thought of the man, Smith. The cocksucker responsible. His heart now rested under a rose bush, his body torn to pieces and burned. Or did she see the man who'd raped the girl beside her, earning the wrath of Franco cutting off his cock. Either way-it didn't matter.
She was in hell-so the fuck was I.
This was my burden. I was the reason she was broken. I was the reason she'd lost so much. And I was the only one who could bring her back. And I had to do it before …
I don't know how long I have to fix her.
The thought slipped through my carefully fortified defences. I refused to think so morbidly-but I couldn't lie to myself. They were coming. And I had no intention of leaving Tess like this if they achieved what they wanted.
Are you ready to do this?
Never. But I moved forward anyway. Tess flinched; eyes hazy and unfocused. She hadn't looked around the room or asked where she was. None of that mattered because all she cared about was freedom. Freedom from a third kidnapping and pain.
I wanted to scream: 'whoever you see in your head-they're dead. I slaughtered them. Their blood stains my hands.'
But I didn't. She had to believe this was true. She had to give in completely.
Now. Do it now. I didn't know how long the pill would last. I had a lot to accomplish before it ended.
With trembling hands, I reached above and undid the fastening. I'd strung her from a low hanging chandelier-deliberately drawing all the curtains and turning on no lights. I didn't want Tess to see the room until I was ready. Once she returned to me-then she'd understand.
I pulled the cord around her wrists; she stumbled forward. Her body landed on mine and I groaned as her breasts squished against my chest. So soft. So pure. So fucking perfect.
My heart bucked with need. I would've given anything to be able to tackle her to the floor and drive myself inside. To take and give and consume and adore.
I swallowed hard as my eyes landed on her pussy. My mouth watered to taste her-to dip my tongue inside. She'd been wet, soaking before.
I'd wanted to make her come. I'd wanted to give her one burst of pleasure before the drugs stole her, but I'd been too slow.
Now, it was up to me to be a bastard all in the name of curing her. I had one chance at breaking her nightmares, and I refused to fuck it up.
Yanking the rope, I dragged her forward. She moaned in pain as blood rushed back from having her arms up for so long.
"Stop bitching." My cock ached. Fuck, it ached. Everything about what I did called to the monster. Tess's fear clogged my nostrils, making it so damn hard to remember I was doing this for her. Not for me.
"So you're the master who doesn't let himself play." Smith's voice slammed into my head. It didn't matter I'd stolen his heart-he'd come to destroy me.
My back locked straight as I growled under my breath, repeating what I'd said to him that night. "I'm the man who knows right from wrong."
"No, you live in denial. One day you'll see the truth. It will happen. You can't ignore who you truly are forever. One day the decision won't be yours anymore, and when that happens operations like ours will be your saving grace."
Fuck.
I couldn't live like this much longer. I couldn't live so torn.
I clutched my head, sucking in greedy breaths, forcing my mind to fill with images. Images I deliberately blocked from my past.
"Do you want a taste, Quincy? You keep sneaking into rooms you're forbidden to fucking go, all because you want a piece of pussy?" My father motioned me forward with his free hand, while his other thrust thick fingers into a screaming blonde.
My ten-year-old stomach threatened to evict the cherry pie Mrs. Sucre had made me, but if my father told me to do something, I had no choice but to do it.
Inching across the carpet, my eyes fell on a tangled mess of hair and limbs. A girl. Skin that should've been dusky and pink was now grey and lifeless. Even her blood had turned from bright red to brown.
My feet reeled backward, faster and faster. "No!" I screamed. "I'll never be like you. I'll never touch a girl like you!"
My father laughed. It started as a chuckle but grew and grew until it felt as if the entire room shook with corruption. "You're wrong, boy. You have my blood in your veins. You'll grow up needing exactly what I need. And there's nothing you can do to fucking stop it."
Hitting the blonde so hard she fell onto her knees, he held out his hand again. "Now, come. Take your place as my son and heir. Come and play with your subjects like a good Mercer boy. I'll even let you fuck one of them."
I ran.
I ran away from my father. I ran away from any hope at having a mentor in my life. I ran to my mother, only to find she'd drunk herself into a stupor.