Burning Truths (Consume Me #2)

4. Kenna

Chapter Four

KENNA

My thumb passes over the raised ink at the dip of my hip again. Over and over. My eyes trace each line, bump, crack in the ceiling. I do everything I can to keep my mind busy without allowing myself to study the faces staring at me around the room. Hank has only been back twice over the last three days with two sandwiches and once he even brought chips. I guess he knows I have the sink for water, so at least I won’t die of thirst. Not that I’d allow that to happen. I’ve been conditioned to drink my piss if I have to and I fucking will to get back to my family. What’s left of it.

The rustling of keys pulls me from the trance I’ve been stuck in for fuck knows how long. I’ve repeated the last 10 years of my life over and over in my head to sort fact from fiction. He’s slowly breaking down who I am and trying to rewrite me into the Kenna he thinks I should be. I refuse to let him. Though I give him what he wants in the end all the same, because the pain is too much to bear. Dragging in a deep breath, I force myself to sit up in the large bed that’s far too familiar. Two seconds pass before the green door slowly opens to Hank Harlow carrying another small plate, yet a sandwich is missing and in its place is a small portion of macaroni and cheese. My stomach grumbles at the sight.

His smile pulls at the skin around his eyes showing the age he tries to hide. No amount of hair dye and grooming stops the age from creeping back through. I bite my tongue from telling him just that and instead give him a shallow grin of my own. Scooting to the edge of the bed, I mentally stop myself from clenching the sheets in an attempt to slow my movements, but the food urges me forward.

“Come eat, Princessa.” He purrs.

If I weren’t starving I’d gag from the sickening way he mewls at me. Breathing through my nose I keep my teeth clenched and that smile in place. Bide your time Kens . My ass meets the edge of the bed and that’s when Hank makes his move to step between my thighs. I should have known when he left the shorts and tank on the bed last night that I’d regret wearing them. Not that I had a choice, after all I’m wearing a collar that knocks a few brain cells loose every time I disobey. His clammy fingers grip my chin tilting my head up to force my gaze on his.

“You’ve been such a good little girl.” He says, voice low and hungry.

My lip twitches, but I control myself, “Thank you.” I say my tone flat.

He wants to be praised. To be thanked for giving me food, a bed, a place to relieve myself. That’s how he functions. After he sets the plate on the table beside me, he pulls a single rose from behind him and hands it to me. A thorn stabs my finger so I quickly plop it into my mouth to clean the crimson from my skin. Licking his lips, he moves even closer until our thighs are pressing against each other. Mine tremble with the friction, but he reads the reaction wrong.

“Mmmh. Maybe you are ready for me.” His eyes trail down my frame.

Recoiling back I sneer, “Touch me like that and Ryker-”

Red hot searing pain rips through me. A scream tears from my throat, my legs giving out, and my ass slipping from the bed to the floor. My entire body shakes with the force of the after shock floating through me. Tears that I can’t stop start to fall, but still I hold his stare. Dropping to his knees, he adjusts his legs to straddle me without fully giving me his weight, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling the stiffness in his jeans.

“I’m Ryker now, Princessa. Say his name to me again and I’ll fuck you until you’re nothing but a broken mess at his feet. And then I’ll kill him in front of you before I fuck you into the floor. A beautiful bleeding mess that we made together. Is that understood?”

He slaps my face hard. Once. Twice. A third. My lip splits back open. Blood invades my mouth, filling the back of my throat until I swallow down the copper liquid. Still my eyes clash with his. Pupils growing darker, his eyes wide, frantic.

“Ryker would- “

My limbs lock. Bile and blood mix together. I sling myself sideways and hurl everything I have inside me onto the floor. Hank's rage flows from him in waves. The button in his hand continuously being pressed. My brain and body war with each other until my eyes grow weak.

Breathe through the pain.

All I see are lilies and Caramel eyes. Oranges, reds. Yellows, pinks, and blacks. The smell of throw up and flowers swirl through my nose. My muscles seem to take forever to finally release, but once I’m able to open my eyes again Hank is standing at the door pacing. His hands rake through his hair, pulling at the ends, pacing back and forth. Wiping my mouth, I drag myself up against the bottom of the bed so I can fully sit up. My entire body screams in pain, but I inhale through my nose ignoring the taste in the back of my throat.

“You said you had a present for me.” I rasp.

My voice, shaken and damaged from screaming. Hank stops with his back to me, both hands on the top of his head, unmoving. The way his shirt hugs his back has my mind flashing back to Ryker, but I quickly shake away that image. It’s a silent few minutes before he belts out a loud laugh that has me jumping. Spinning to face me, he almost seems back at ease with my question.

“Hmmm. I did say that, didn’t I.” Looking back at the door before moving forward a few steps, he pulls out a napkin from his pocket.

Rubbing it between his fingers, his legs eat up the distance to me and suddenly he’s crouching down at my side. Lifting my face to his, I take in his expression watching for anything, something, that will give me more. I need to know more. Why? Instead he holds my face under my jaw and uses the napkin to clean up my face from the blood and puke that’s covering my lips and cheek. The whole time he does this he hums out a slow melody that pulls at something in the back of my head. It lulls me into a state that is almost impossible to escape. My limbs feel heavier.

“You’ll get better, I promise. Once you see how much I love you, you’ll know that this is where you belong.” He coos at me.

“R-” I start, but slam my lips closed at the look that crosses his face.

Bending closer his lips graze my ear, “I’m your Ryker now. The next time you say his name it’ll be when you’re begging me to go deeper.” He grunts the last word against the side of my face.

His wet lips press into my temple, the humming picking back up, his other hand rubbing the other side of my face. The tender flesh smarts when he touches it, but still he rubs it in small circles.

“You’ll get your surprise when you learn who truly deserves you.” He says.

Leaning back on the heels of his feet, he waits for any sign of fight, but I push it down. Being strong sometimes means keeping yourself safe until you’re stronger. This isn’t a battle I’m waiting to die for. I’ll always belong to Ryker, but for right now I’ll bite my tongue to stay breathing for him. Instead I ask for the one thing that will keep me sane in this moment.

“Can I just have one thing?” I ask, my words soft.

Batting my eyes I try to soften my expression, but not too hard. The sudden shift would be too obvious for a man like Hank. He’s aware that his hold on me is weak, so switching up too soon would be far too easy. Looking away to break the hold he has on me, I let the tears fall, but I remind myself that it doesn’t take away from the fight I have burning inside of me. Instead its fuel to the flames that stoke the fire that threatens to consume the room we reside in.

“And what do you want my beautiful Princessa?” He hums.

Looking up at him through my lashes, I smile sheepishly at him.

“Could you bring me a pack of Cigarettes? It’ll help with the nerves for when I ask you to join me here.” I rub my hand behind me on the bed sheets.

A lump gathers in my throat, but I swallow it down, and hold my composure. Hank Harlow assess me, watching me, reading my face. I know he knows that I don’t smoke. He knows everything. Does he know it’s the only way I’ll be able to taste Ryker? Does he know that it’s the only thing that will keep me from joining Alec and Cole? My lip quivers.

Bending forward he presses his mouth to mine, applying the softest amount of pressure, but our eyes stay wide open. He waits to see if I pull away and everything in me screams at me too, but I hold steady. My soul weeps for the truth I’ve yet to admit, but then he finally pulls away with a satisfied smirk.

“Ok.” Is all he says.

Standing he moves towards the door before stopping and looking at me over his shoulder.

“Clean this mess up before I get back.” He orders.

Once he’s gone I scramble up from the floor and run towards the bathroom. Throwing myself at the toilet, barely making it in time to dry heave all the empty stomach acid I have left. Tossing my head back I wail into the vacant void around me. Flushing, I stand and step over to the sink. Turning on the hot water until it's scorching, I scoop it up and fill my mouth. Everything is on fire. My skin, my lips, my mouth, it all feels like it’s drenched in flames. Yet, the real fire is in my chest, tearing a hole in my heart. A hole that used to house a family I’m not sure I’ll ever get back. Will I ever deserve them again? As the question crosses my mind, I break a little more inside.

Flipping the water to cool, I splash some on my face over and over again. Scrubbing until my flesh is raw and blistered. Looking up at the woman in the mirror. No, a girl. She’s a scared little girl who is struggling to find the signature Kingston fire inside her. Hank is slowly digging himself deeper and deeper in her skin. Dark circles lay underneath her eyes, broken, bloody and bruised.

My hands white knuckle the counter top as my head hangs down and my eyes pinch shut. After taking a deep breath to collect myself, I shut the water off and move away from the reflection that haunts me. Licking my lips, my body winces from the pain that shoots through me. Catching remnants of blood that remain along the cut, the taste of copper sprouts along my taste buds. Everything aches, my mind, body and soul.

Walking back into the bedroom I stare down at the mess on the floor, but choose to leave it for another time. He never comes more than once a day. Instead, I make my way towards the bed. My ass plops on to the mattress before I gently lift the plate and spoon. With each bite comes a steady throb from filling my starved stomach, but the hunger is worse in more than one way. The smell of the room makes it unbearable to eat in until it blends in with the pain. Soon I feel nothing at all. Soon, my legs are pressed into my chest. Soon, my fingers are tracing the tattoo. Soon, my eyes are drifting closed. Soon, I’m lost to the darkness.

“What the fuck is this?”

I wake with a jolt when rough hands drag down the band of my shorts to reveal Rykers name on my skin. My eyes open to a red faced Hank who’s heaving with fury. My hand jerks to cover my exposed flesh, but before I can he’s pressing the remote sending my eyes to the back of my head.

“I see he has his claws deeper than I thought. Don’t worry, Princessa. I’ll fix this for us.” He growls.

My thighs spasm around the shock. My chest falls with my next breath only to heave when I see the sinister look he gives me.

“Move and I’ll slice your throat wide open.” He orders.

He’s gone in seconds, only the wind from his movements left to skate over me, the door slamming behind him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck!

I fell asleep. How long was I out? Sitting up, I turn to the mess on the floor and find it clean and gone. Shit. I’m losing time. The sound of footsteps storming towards the room has my heart stopping in my chest. When the door finally opens again my eyes almost roll to the back of my head. Panic sets in and I scramble to the far side of the bed.

“No! No. No. I’m sorry. I- I”

“He did this to you. To us. I’ll fix it, don't worry. I’ll make you whole again.” His words are gargled behind his anger.

I’m climbing the walls, blocked in, stuck in a corner with nowhere to go. Hank stands at the edge of the bed with a remote in one hand and a hot iron in the other. Steam billows from the latter while his thumb hoovers over the other.

“Crawl to me.” He demands.

My skin itches with the order. Something once said to me by Ryker now tainted with the voice of the devil. A demon. A succubus consuming my life. My head shakes back and forth but not in refusal. No, I'm too far gone in utter fear to deny this man anything. My body is reacting in any way it can to hold off the pain to come. One he’s caused once before by the flames that licked up my leg.

“Crawl. To. Me.” He grunts through clenched teeth.

I make my way to him. Crawling on my hands and feet like a fucking dog. It takes a millisecond for me to pause before he’s pressing the button and grabbing my ankles at the same time. In the throws of my shakes, my legs end up wrapped around his waist. Thrashing. I'm thrashing and screaming, but no one can hear me. My wails bounce off the walls around us, my eyes meet those around the room watching us. The stares of the past watching him break me. Dropping the remote, he snatches my throat and slams me into the mattress twice to gain my attention. My vision blurs, from pain or panic I don’t know, but then I feel the cool air on my bare skin. He’s pulled down my shorts and my eyes blow wide.

“I’ll fix this,” he mutters. “I’ll fix this. I’ll cleanse you. I’ll fix this.” He repeats these words over and over again.

Lifting the branding iron, he focuses in on the letters that spell out the one man who will always have my heart. And he slowly. So fucking slowly. Brings it closer. Are we moving in slow motion? I’m watching it happen, but my entire body is cold. It's like I’m floating above us seeing it from another’s point of view. Then, it happens. A sea of flames engulf my flesh.

“Stop!” I screech.

I’m screaming.

My skin bubbles and boils around the iron. The stench of burnt skin and hair fills my nose, bringing back nightmares from the past. My toes curl in from the pain, the clench of my thighs impossibly tighter, as my hands lash out.

“I told you I’d fix it.” He grunts, his breathing ragged from holding me down.

My fingernails dig into his arms. Digging deeper until blood trickles to the surface, slowly dripping down to his hands.

“Please-” My words break off into a silent scream.

I can’t breathe. There is no air to pull into my lungs. The lilies are on fire and my eyes burn from the image in front of me. Shivering. I’m shaking with chills so I must be going into shock. My fingers throb from the hold I have on his skin but I refuse to let go. Blinking past the tears I allow myself to take in the gruesome mess. Melted flesh rips away from the iron when he lifts it, pulling the last of the ink from my body. Yanking the last piece of Ryker from me.

Ryker, are you bleeding? I’m bleeding, are you?

Screaming. So much screaming. The inferno and embers. And then nothing. Black space consumes me. There’s no more Ryker. No more Cole. No more West. Only me and Hank. Only Hank. There is no one else.

Nothing .