34. Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Four
Byron
I can’t sleep. Not with the asshole hugging me like we’re lovers.
His body is flush against mine, his arm heavy around my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck. His cock presses into my side, and I clench my jaw, trying to ignore the weight of him. At least my own ache—raw and nagging—has dulled to discomfort. Small mercies.
The darkness in the room is oppressive, the kind that swallows you whole. Every sound is sharper, louder—the faint hum of the IV, the rustle of sheets, the steady rhythm of his soft snores.
I need to get out of here. Find Gabriela. Warn her.
But I’m fucking weak. My body feels like lead, and even if I managed to make it to my truck, I wouldn’t get far.
Ren’s snores catch my attention. His face is too relaxed, too… beautiful for someone so vile. A killer. A rapist.
I tug at the cuff binding my wrist to the bed frame, the metal biting into my skin. As if by instinct, his arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer. His cock presses harder against my side, and I shove him with my free hand.
“Too fucking close,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
The pressure in my bladder suddenly spikes, sharp and unbearable. The need for relief hits me like a freight train, and the reality of my situation sinks in. I glance around the dark room, scanning for anything I can use. Nothing.
“Hey,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
Ren doesn’t stir. His grip on me remains firm, his breath steady and rhythmic.
“Hey, asshole,” I say louder, my voice cutting through the silence.
He groans, shifting slightly, his arm loosening just enough for me to squirm.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
He rolls onto his back with a grunt, his hand moving lazily to his face. “Then pee,” he says flatly, his voice thick with sleep.
What the fuck does he mean, pee?
Does he seriously expect me to piss myself?
As if reading my thoughts, he adds, his voice low and hoarse, “You can pee, but if you do, I’ll punish you.”
My jaw tightens, heat rising to my face. “Punish me? You fucking—“
His hand clamps over my mouth, silencing me instantly. His body moves over mine, pressing me into the mattress. His hair, damp with sweat, brushes against my forehead, and I feel his breath against my cheek.
“You,” he murmurs, his tone laced with menace, “are more trouble than you’re worth.”
I glare up at him, my chest heaving beneath his weight. His onyx eyes gleam in the faint light, sharp and unyielding.
“I’ve had enough of your lack of gratitude,” he continues, his voice soft but venomous. “You’re safe. You’re fed. You’re taken care of. Now shut up and sleep.”
His hand presses harder against my mouth, and for a moment, I consider biting him. But the look in his eyes stops me cold.
“Do you understand?” he asks, his tone low and deliberate.
I nod, my breath coming in sharp bursts through my nose.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, his voice softening just enough to send a chill down my spine. He pulls his hand away, rolling back onto his side.
This time, only his leg drapes over mine, pinning me in place. Within minutes, his snores return, soft and steady, filling the silence.
I close my eyes, trying to focus on anything but the gnawing pressure in my bladder. The ache sharpens with each passing second, twisting in my gut like a knife.
The darkness feels heavier now, wrapping around me like a second skin. My breaths come shallow, each one a struggle against the weight of my humiliation.
And still, I can’t sleep.
My arms flail in the water—it’s all dark. The burn in my muscles is unbearable as I try to push upward, but when I look down, I see it. The weight chained to my ankle drags me deeper into the abyss, the faint sunlight drifting farther and farther away. The warmth above taunts me, a life I can no longer reach.
I scream, and the last bit of air rushes from my lungs. My chest burns, excruciating and desperate, as water floods in, filling the space where life used to be. My arms go limp, the fight drained from my body as the darkness consumes me. My eyes remain fixed on the shrinking light above—a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost.
Suddenly, warmth envelops me. It wraps around me like a blanket, soft and unexpected, replacing the icy grip of death.
This… this must be death.
“What—“ Ren’s angry voice tears through the fragile calm, yanking me back into his hell.
“You fucking pissed yourself, Byron,” he growls, spitting my name with venom. His voice is sharp, biting, like a parent scolding a child for an unforgivable mistake.
My eyes snap open, and the warmth turns suffocating as I realize where I am. Ren sits up in bed, his movements fluid and controlled. He stands, slipping off his pajama pants, exposing his firm ass, that damn dragon tattoo snaking across his back. The faint light of the storm-drenched window catches the ink just above his groin.
“I told you I’d punish you,” he sneers, his voice cold and calm, as if this is routine.
My pants cling to my skin, damp and sticky, the stench curling up my nose and choking me with shame. I want the earth to split open and swallow me whole, to take me away from this humiliation. But I know better. Ren mumbles something under his breath, and for a fleeting second, I smile—a bitter, twisted smile. If nothing else, this is my moment. My humiliation might be the spark I need.
Ren crosses the room, bare feet silent on the wooden floor, retrieving a key from his nightstand. He holds it up, the faint light gleaming off the metal. His smirk is sharp, predatory.
“Remember, good boys…get rewarded. Try anything, and your sister receives your punishment.”
Gabriela’s face flashes in my mind, her wide, terrified eyes staring back at me, her voice breaking as she screamed my name. The image cuts deeper than any knife.
Ren crouches beside me, close enough for his breath to fan against my skin. His onyx eyes gleam, dark and endless, as if they could swallow me whole. “Words,” he says softly, his tone a silk noose tightening around my throat. “Tell me you understand.”
Before unlocking the cuff, he undoes the IV from my arm, leaving the butterfly line taped to my skin. His fingers move with deliberate slowness, savoring every second of control.
“I understand,” I bite out, my voice hoarse and raw. The adrenaline surges in my veins, my heart pounding like a war drum.
The cuff clicks open. My hand is free.
I don’t hesitate. My fist flies, connecting hard with his jaw. Ren staggers, crashing into the wall. He groans, one hand flying to his face, but the smirk doesn’t leave.
“Oh, you’re in for it now,” he sneers, his tone thick with amusement, as if my defiance is just foreplay.
I don’t stick around to hear more. I lunge for the door, throwing it open; the cool air from the hallway slaps me in the face.
The storm rages outside, thunder shaking the walls, rain hammering the windows with relentless fury. My bare feet slap against the cold floor, each step sending sharp jolts of pain through my body.
The stairs.
I spot them to my right and sprint, my legs trembling beneath me. I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere—anywhere—is better than here.
Behind me, Ren’s footsteps are slow, unhurried, a predator savoring the hunt.
My foot catches on the edge of a step, sending me tumbling. Pain erupts in my side as I hit the landing, gasping; the world spins and tilts around me.
“Oh, yes run,” Ren’s voice calls out, smooth and taunting, cutting through the storm like a blade. “It’ll be fun when I catch you.”
The words send a shiver racing down my spine, but I force myself up, my body screaming in protest. My bare feet hit the ground, and I bolt for the front door.
The cold greets me first. It bites at my skin as I burst outside, the rain slamming against my body like shards of ice. My chest heaves as I look around, disoriented and desperate.
The trees.
I pump my legs harder, the mud sucking at my feet with every step. My breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps, but Gabriela’s face keeps me moving. She’s waiting for me. She needs me.
Thunder cracks, illuminating the clearing ahead. Relief surges through me—I’m close.
But then I see him.
Ren.
He stands in the middle of the clearing, soaked to the bone, a dark silhouette against the violent storm. In his hand, he holds something long and slender, glinting in the lightning like a weapon.
“You’re making this too easy, Thorn,” he says, his voice calm, almost bored.
The rain drips from his hair, plastering it to his forehead. His smirk cuts through the darkness, cruel and sharp.
“Run.”
The cold greets me like a slap, soaking into my skin and stealing my breath as I bolt through the rain. It pounds relentlessly, soaking me to the bone, but I don’t stop. My bare feet slap against the wet grass, each step sending pain shooting up my legs. My chest burns, every breath sharp and ragged, but I keep running.
For Gabriela.
Lightning splits the sky, casting jagged shadows across the ground, and I push harder, my legs trembling as exhaustion claws at me. I glance behind me, heart hammering, but I see nothing.
No Ren.
And that terrifies me more.
The sound of the rain drowns out everything except the blood pounding in my ears. I try to focus, to pinpoint my truck’s location, but everything looks the same, endless and disorienting. My lungs scream for air as my legs falter, and I hit the ground hard, mud squelching beneath me.
“Get up,” I whisper to myself, my voice trembling with fear. “For her.”
I force my body to move, my limbs shaking as I push up, but then I hear it.
A low whistle.
The sound cuts through the storm, sharp and deliberate. My head snaps up, and lightning illuminates the clearing behind me.
He’s there.
Ren stands at the edge of the trees, his figure shrouded in shadow, but his eyes—those onyx orbs—burn through the darkness like fire. In his hand, he holds something sleek and ominous. A gun.
“At least try to make this challenging Byron,” his voice calls out, smooth and taunting, carried effortlessly through the storm. “Or do you want me to catch you? Is that it, my Thorn just needed to be caught by the big bad wolf.”
Thunder crashes, and before I can react, a sharp sting pierces my neck.
I slap a hand to the spot, trembling fingers finding a dart. I rip it free, but it’s too late. The world tilts and warps around me as the drug invades my system, dragging me down like quicksand.
“Run,” Ren’s voice commands, closer now, the amusement in his tone making my stomach churn.
My legs move instinctively, driven by fear, but they’re heavy, sluggish. The trees seem alive, their gnarled limbs stretching toward me like claws, snagging my skin and clothes.
The thick tree in the clearing comes into view, a beacon of hope, and relief surges through me. My truck must be close.
I push harder, each step a desperate plea for freedom. My breath tears from my throat in gasps as I reach the clearing.
But it’s empty.
No truck. No salvation. No freedom.
Clapping. Slow, deliberate, mocking.
“Good job,” Ren’s voice cuts through the storm, smooth and dripping with contempt. “You managed to get nowhere… and piss me off all at the same time.”
I whirl around, slipping in the mud, and there he is, standing at the edge of the clearing. Rain slicks his body, highlighting the sharp lines of his face and the dark ink decorating his chest.
“On your knees,” he commands, the gun in his hand gleaming under the lightning.
I hesitate, and the butt of the gun slams into my temple, sending me sprawling into the mud. Pain explodes in my skull as my knees sink into the wet earth.
“That’s a good pet,” Ren sneers, circling me like a predator savoring its kill. “On his knees for his master. Running toward safety, weren’t you? Thought you could escape?”
I glare up at him, hatred burning in my chest, but the humiliation cuts deeper.
“But there’s no safety, Thorn. No escape. Only me.”
His hand moves to his groin, stroking himself with slow, deliberate motions. My eyes catch the ink just above his groin. “Rotten Pieces.”
“Suck my dick like Gabriela’s life depends on it,” he says, his voice low and venomous. “Show me you’re sorry,” another slow stroke of his cock. “Show me you’re mine to break and rebuild.”
I spit on the ground near his feet, “fuck you.” But all he does is laugh, and then I feel it. The cold press of the gun against my temple sends a shiver down my spine. “Go on, open that filthy mouth of yours.” My mouth falls open, trembling as shame and fear twist into something different, something I don’t want to name.
He thrusts himself inside, filling my mouth with a brutal force that leaves no room for resistance. The rain lashes down, cold and relentless, mingling with the tears streaming down my face. The sharp metallic taste of the barrel pressed against my temple mixes with the salt on my lips, the mud beneath me sucking at my knees, grounding me in this nightmare. Every inch of me feels drenched—by the storm, by my own fear, and by the humiliation pooling low in my stomach.
“Look at me,” he commands, his voice slicing through the storm like a whip, sharp and unyielding.
I force my gaze up, my muscles trembling, my breath stuttering around him. His onyx eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, the world narrows to just us. Those eyes burn with something primal and unholy, a cruel pleasure that tears through me like jagged glass.
The smirk on his lips widens as he tilts the gun to his own temple, the black metal glinting under the fractured light of the storm.
“Maybe luck’s on your side,” he purrs, his tone so rich with mockery it’s almost a caress.
He pulls the trigger.
Click .
No bullet.
A deep, guttural laugh rumbles from his chest, reverberating through me like the growl of an approaching predator. His thrusts grow harder, more deliberate, and each movement forces my body to betray me further. The rain hammers down, masking the obscene wet sounds between us, but nothing can drown out the low, guttural noises slipping from his throat—sounds of triumph, of victory.
Click .
Another empty chamber.
“Do you feel it?” he murmurs, leaning forward, his wet hair plastered against his forehead. The gun shifts, pressing harder into my temple. “Do you feel how close you are to the end? How much control I have over every fucking breath you take?”
The words drip with venom, each syllable sinking into me like needles. My stomach churns, but there’s something worse—something dark and horrifying bubbling just beneath the surface. The heat pooling low in my stomach, the way my body responds against my will, sends fresh waves of shame crashing over me.
Click .
The sound ricochets through my skull like a final judgment. My chest tightens, my lungs burn, and the pressure on my tongue becomes unbearable. His grip on the back of my head tightens, forcing me to take more of him as he drives deeper, harder, his hips a relentless machine of control.
“You’re mine, Thorn,” he growls, his voice low and feral. “All this fight, all this defiance, and still… you break so beautifully.”
The words cut deeper than any blade, and my eyes blur with tears. My throat tightens around him, and he groans, a sound of dark satisfaction that shakes me to my core.
The storm around us seems to quiet for a moment, the thunder fading into the background as the sound of my own heartbeat roars in my ears. I want to scream, to fight, but the cold metal against my temple reminds me of my place.
And then he spills down my throat, the warmth searing against my raw shame. My body shudders violently, and before I can stop it, I feel my own release—a hot, sticky stain spreading across the fabric of my pants.
The humiliation is all-consuming, suffocating me as I slump forward, trembling and defeated.
Ren pulls back slowly, savoring the moment. His smirk remains, cruel and triumphant, as he looks down at me. His free hand moves to wipe a stray drop of cum from the corner of my mouth, smearing it across my cheek like a twisted signature.
“Night night, Thorn,” he whispers, his voice dripping with mockery and satisfaction.
The rain continues to fall as my vision blurs, the edges of the world darkening. The last thing I feel is the cold mud against my skin and the iron grip of his hand around my ankle, dragging me back into the suffocating abyss of his control.