A Tempting Arrangement (Twisted Vows Book 1)

38. Misty

Damon keptme in bed most of the day and by the time we pull up to the back of Elysium, the sun’s setting, casting the entire area in shadow. Damon grasps my hand before I can get out of the car, his brows pulled low. “Are you sure you want to see this?”

“Not even a little bit.” There’s a jitteriness to me that’s so intense I might actually start crackling with the electricity racing under my skin. My stomach is on its one-hundredth revolution of its mad Ferris wheel between nausea and anticipation. It took Damon over an hour to explain the Order of Saints and the Everette family’s role in it. By the end, it was like someone opened a door to an alternate universe. Now, I’m Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

“Anytime you want to go, just tell me. We go. If you want it to stop, I’ll stop it.” He grimaces. “Unfortunately, it is too late for him to live, but you don’t need to have anything to do with that.”

Not alive, dead, murdered.

Holy crap! I’m an accessory to kidnapping and murder!

“Am I going to be arrested?”

I can tell he’s trying to fight his smile but loses. “I’d like to see the cop that would dare. If that’s not comfort enough, we called in our business partners who are particularly skilled in this.”

“Skilled in this?” I raise one brow. “Torture?”

“Murder, body disposal, the entire process.”

He sounds entirely too chill for the conversation at hand, but there’s something about his calmness that has this new reality settling over me.

“What can I expect when we get down there?”

He doesn’t belittle my question. “He’ll likely be chained, beaten fairly badly, but he’ll be conscious.”

“Is it going to smell?” I scrunch my nose.

He chokes on a laugh. “Why would it smell?”

“Bodies smell.”

“Dead bodies smell. The way Rush likes things set up, he’ll have some chemical cleaner there, so it’ll likely smell like that.”

“And Rush is the torturer guy?” I’m acting way too casual now.

“That’s Beck. Rush is more of a handler for the four of them.”

“Four?”

“Rush, Beck, Nico, and Raegan. They’re from the Gentlemen and Mountsummer.”

Damon guides me down the stairs that leads to a hall with several doors. Muffled shouting coming from the first one on the right.

My heart climbs into my throat, and I’m suddenly light-headed. Am I really doing this? Then Damon looks at me, searches my face, and cups my cheeks between his hands.

“You don’t have to go in there. You can go about your day knowing he got exactly what was coming to him.”

Tempting. Tempting to keep my conscience at least a modicum of clean. Damon’s watching me with patience, letting me work this out on my own. But for once, I don’t want to overthink it. I don’t want to be the perfect girl who does perfect things, that everyone likes.

I’m not that girl, and the man tied up inside that room is who made me this way.

I lift on my toes and press a chaste kiss against Damon’s mouth. “My darkness matches your darkness. Right?”

He growls low, tugging me into him, and bites my lower lip hard. “Jesus Christ. You’re lucky I don’t fuck you right here.”

The door swings open behind him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Damon eyes the dark-eyed man. He has two guns strapped in a holster around his shoulders, then nods. “Nico.”

“Are you seriously trying to fuck your girl while you have someone being tortured?”

A girl with fiery red hair peeks her head around his shoulder. She’s in a band T-shirt and short black shorts that show off matching twin guns strapped to her legs. “It’s better than that time we did it during the torture.”

“Okay, Firecracker. Stop fucking with them.” A man wraps his arms around her middle, dwarfing her. His hair is buzzed at the sides, revealing grayscale tattoos that run from his neck all the way down his arms.

She swats him off and holds out her hand to me. “I’m Rae. You ready to torture this asshole?”

I examine her. She’s a few inches shorter than me, probably more than a few pounds. But she’s not afraid of anyone here; she’s not squeamish about what’s happening. She is so fucking cool.

My hands shake when I take hers, and she gives it an extra squeeze. “Love your hair.”

I’d pinned as much of the lavender mass as I could on top of my head. “Thanks. He did it.”

I gesture to Damon, who’s watching me intently.

“No shit!” Rae claps with genuine excitement.

I can already tell the girls would love her. Just have to hide the guns and torture and stuff.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Little Thief, but the punk just came to, and I’m not sure how much longer we’ll have him. I may have gone a little overboard.”

Terror would’ve overwhelmed me at the sight of the guy, now towering over us, blond hair slicked back, blood splattered over his cheeks, partially covering his multicolored tattoos. It’s the way he’s looking at Rae like she hung his literal moon that keeps him from looking scary.

“Are you covered in blood?” The words are out before I can stop them.

There’s a dimple in the blond’s cheek when he faces me. “You can be, too, if you want.”

He winks—freaking winks—before turning back into the room.

Damon’s hands hold my upper arms, supporting me. “You know, most people are afraid of them.”

I tilt my head back to read his expression. “Should I be afraid?”

“Of Beck? Normally. But you never have to be afraid when you’re with me. Nothing bad will ever happen to you.”

Lightness fills my chest, like years of weight have been lifted from my shoulders. “Let’s see, shall we.”

He doesn’t let go of my arms when I walk into the room, and I quickly realize why. My knees wobble and knock together at the sight of Thomas. He’s in the middle of the space, sitting on a bench, and his arms are strung up with chains to the ceiling.

It’s like reality smacks me in the face, and I’m suddenly not sure about any of this anymore.

“Fucking slut. You never could do what you’re told.” Thomas spits blood out. “Did you tell him how fucking broken you are? How useless you are to him.”

Damon tenses behind me, but I’m already closing the distance between Thomas and me, slamming my palm upward into his nose. I wince at the sickening crunch it makes, but I don’t back off.

Beck rolls back on his heels. “Fucking nice.” He approaches me, twirling what looks to be a surgeon’s blade between his fingers before holding it out to me handle side first. “I hear he gave you some scars. I thought you might like to return the favor.”

The metals cool to the touch and weighs more than I expected. “Um…thank you?”

I move around to Thomas’s back, who is now thrashing against his chains. I hold the knife awkwardly between us. I don’t have the first clue what I’m doing.

“I’ll help you.” Damon steps into my back, his hand forming around mine.

He brings the knife to Thomas’s back but lets me be the one to apply pressure. It’s squishy and gross, and I don’t like it at all. But I love the way Thomas hisses. How he pleads for me to stop.

In the end, the cut is only a quarter the size he left on me, but I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction when he looks up at me with terror.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am broken. Maybe that’s exactly what I’m meant to be.

“Soooo do you want to do the honors, or can I?” Beck asks gleefully.

Rae slaps the back of her hand against his stomach. “Don’t freak her out.”

Beck leans in, kissing her temple, only for Rush to kiss the other, and suddenly, their relationship is way more interesting than torturing Thomas.

“Are you guys together?” I ask.

“Yes,” Rae replies, eyes slitted as she waits for my reaction.

“Oh my God. You have to meet Mia.” I’m too excited to notice the four matching looks of surprise.

Beck leans in and play whispers, “Who’s Mia?”

I smile wide with pride. “My friend who has two NHL hockey player boyfriends. I’m sure there’s like tips and tricks you guys can talk about.”

“She should try it with a third,” Nico, who’s been silently scowling from the corner, chimes in.

My head jerks back as I look at all of them, and then realization dawns on me.

“You have three hot mafia boyfriends?” I practically squeal the words, and Rae grins.

“Why, are you looking for more?” she asks.

“Back off my wife.” Damon’s arm crosses my chest possessively.

I glance up, placing a kiss under his chin. “Relax. Just girl talk.”

Wet coughing draws my attention back to Thomas, who I magically forgot was here. He’s turned a putrid green color as he watches us with narrowed eyes. There’s pure hate there, and I know if given the chance, he’d make it so I’d never be safe again.

I hand the blade to Damon. “You do it.”

“My pleasure.” He stalks toward Thomas, whose eyes are wide with visible terror.

“Please. Don…don’t kill me…just let me go.” Thomas’s voice cracks around the syllables as the distance between the two of them closes.

“You don’t want me to kill you?” Damon asks.

“I’ll do anything. Whatever you want. You’ll never see me again, I swear.”

“Okay.”

What?The air catches in my lungs. I can’t believe Damon would just let him go. I won’t believe it.

“You just have to do one thing first.” Damon slices through the fabric of a struggling Thomas’s pants.

“Fuck you. No. Stop?—”

Thomas’s shouts are morphed into excruciating cries. Nausea crawls up my throat. With Damon’s back blocking my line of sight, I can’t see exactly what’s happening, but from his hand placement and the way Thomas is screaming, I can guess.

Damon stands and looks down at a now limp Thomas. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You want to be free, don’t you?”

His only reply is a whimpered plea as Damon’s bloody fingers grip his jaw, prying it open before shoving something in.

Thomas chokes and gags until the sharp knife is pressed below his neck, grazing his throat.

“I thought you’d enjoy this? You like putting your dick where it doesn’t belong.”

I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“Now, chew,” Damon commands, voice flat as Thomas thrashes against the grip he has on him and forces his mouth open and closed like a puppet.

The muscles in Thomas’s jaw clench as he does before he gags and vomits around his own flesh.

Damon’s already out of the way, twisting the handle of the knife in his fingers.

Tears streak down my ex’s cheeks. “I did what you said. Now, let me go.”

Damon just laughs before bringing the knife back to Thomas’s throat. “You really thought I’d let you live? You’re lucky I’m going to let you die.”

The knife easily cuts through Thomas’s skin, and I hold my breath as the iron smell of blood hits my nose, not daring to inhale. The world grows fuzzy and dark around me.

“Fuck. Catch her.”

Strong arms circle me, and I’m lifted into the air and pressed into a hard chest.

“I’ve got you.” Damon’s familiar cologne scent fills my nose seconds before everything goes black.