Chapter 45 Kashton
FORTY-FIVE
KASHTON
Haidyn pulls up to her driveway, and I jump out, running into her house. “Eve?” I call out, getting no response. I rush through her living room, past the kitchen, and see a trail of blood that leads to her bedroom. “Everett?” I shout, panicking more than I already was when she ran out of Carnage.
I enter her room, and there’s blood everywhere. Signs of a struggle on the bed as her comforter, sheets, and pillows are disheveled. I follow the trail of blood to her bathroom door. There are handprints smeared all over the white wood.
“Oh, fuck,” Saint whispers, entering the bedroom, followed by Haidyn.
“Eve?” I try to open the door, but it’s locked.
I don’t even bother giving a warning. I grab hold of the doorframe, rear back, and kick the door open. The wood splinters and the door crashes against the interior wall.
She’s sitting on the floor, naked and covered in blood. She holds a bloody butcher knife in her hand, the tip pressing into her neck. I slowly kneel down in front of her. “Eve, I’m here,” I tell her softly to not frighten her.
Her wide eyes look up at mine. “I’m…sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s okay.” I reach out. “Give me the knife, Eve.” Her knuckles are white from gripping the handle.
As if she forgot she was holding it, she drops it to the floor like it’s on fire. Her lips tremble when she whispers, “He’s here.”
“Check the house,” I bark at Saint.
“Who am I looking for, Eve?” Saint asks.
She rocks back and forth, and I reach out, cupping her tear-streaked face. “Look at me, Eve. Eyes on me,” I order and her red-rimmed eyes find mine. She can’t not follow an order. Now I know why. “Who is here, Eve? Tell me. Who are we looking for?” I’m sure I can guess, but I need her to tell me.
“Ev-Evan.”
Saint takes off and Haidyn rips a towel off the counter, tossing it to me.
“I’m sorry…” She reaches for the knife again, but Haidyn picks it up and throws it onto the sink and out of her reach.
“Did she cut herself?” he asks me.
She’s been suicidal before. There’s so much blood that I can’t tell if she’s harmed herself or if he did it.
There was a lot on her bed and the floor.
An obvious path was left where she crawled across the bathroom to where she sits with her back to the wall.
It all can’t be from him, otherwise he’d be dead on the bedroom floor.
The knife is covered in it as well, letting me know it was used.
I grab her arm, stretching it out, and begin to frantically rub the clean hand towel Haidyn handed me across her skin. It just smears the blood. “Did you cut yourself?” I ask her again because she didn’t answer Haidyn.
“I…I’m sorry,” she whispers.
Fuck. “Eve.” I grip her face, forcing her eyes to meet mine. They look glazed over and empty. “Did you take something?” Maybe she took something before he showed up. There’s a cut on the side of her face, but it wouldn’t bleed this much.
She doesn’t answer.
“Check her drawers for pill bottles,” I bark at Haidyn, and he starts opening and slamming them shut. She doesn’t do drugs, but maybe… “He could have given her something. Eve?”
“Place is clear. Blood smeared on the back door tells me he ran.” Saint comes rushing in, interrupting me. “Maybe he heard us pull up.”
She begins to tremble. “I’m sorry.”
There’s so much blood. I can’t find the source.
If someone was bleeding this much, there would be a body.
“Eve,” I snap, getting impatient. My concern grows by the second; I’m terrified she’s going to bleed out right here in front of me.
“Talk to me. What happened, angel? Please,” I beg, desperate for an answer. “What did you do?” She’s looking pale.
“I came,” she whispers, her eyes pinned on my shirt, unable to meet mine. “He told me…that I came.”
“Maybe she’s in shock,” Saint offers.
I grip her face with my blood-covered hand, forcing her head back against the wall once more.
“Listen to me. You didn’t have a choice, Eve.
” The video that Bill and Adam showed us proves that no one could stand a chance at Dollhouse.
“He was here in your house. I need to know…did Evan hurt you or did you hurt yourself?” I can’t help her if I don’t know how.
“I tried to…” She’s gasping, trying to breathe. “I told him to shoot me… If he got in the bathroom, I was going to kill myself,” she whispers. “I won’t let him touch me. Not again.”
My chest tightens at her confession.
“I don’t see anything,” Haidyn says, slamming the last drawer shut before walking into the shower. “Put her in here. Wash off the blood and see where it’s coming from.”
I pick her up, step into the shower, and sit down with her on the cold tile.
Haidyn takes the sprayer and begins to wet her down from her hair to her face and her chest while she coughs and chokes on the running water.
The blood gathers around the drain while I frantically search her, secretly hoping that it’s all his.
She’s shaking and her breathing becomes labored as I look for anything to tell me what the fuck is going on.
“I didn’t cut myself. I promise.” She sniffs.
“What did you do, Eve?” I ask, holding out her arms for Haidyn to wash off. “Huh? Where is the blood coming from?”
She doesn’t answer.
The water runs over her legs. She’s got bruises on her thighs from where she wore the spikes for me the other night.
I knew she got off from pain. Now I’m sick that I allowed myself to do this to her.
Embarrassed that Haidyn is going to ask me where they came from and I’m going to have to explain what I did to his sister.
Blood instantly pours from her inner thigh as soon as it washes away. “Fuck. She cut her leg.” Haidyn hands Saint the sprayer so he can remove his belt. He drops to his knees next to me and I hold her shaking leg out while he wraps his belt around her upper thigh to stop the bleeding.
She crosses her arms around herself and starts rocking back and forth.
“I begged… I came…”
I grab her wet face, forcing her attention back on mine while Saint calls Devin to give him a heads-up that we’re coming. “Listen to me. You didn’t have a choice, Eve,” I remind her. The poor thing isn’t listening. Is she in shock?
She begins to gag.
“Eve.” I sit up and grab her wet hair off her shoulders and chest. She’s about to get sick.
EVERETT
Nineteen years old
I sit cross-legged in the center of the concrete room. Waiting. Always waiting and alone.
I’m so lonely.
The sound of the door creaks open and a figure enters. “Hey, dolly.”
He’s come to visit me. I almost smile.
Kneeling down in front of me, he pushes my hair back from my face. “They said you wanted to see me.” He runs his thumb over my cracked lips, and I part them, but he pulls them away and I whimper. I wanted to taste them so badly. I’m starving.
His laughter fills my room.
“She’s making good progress,” a woman’s voice says. She comes and goes, only visiting to see how I’m doing.
“Told you.” He stands.
“Keep it up,” she states and walks out.
When he begins to follow her, I say, “Pl-ease?” My voice is rough from lack of conversation.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in here alone.
In the dark. I’m going crazy. I keep seeing a figure standing right outside my room.
I talk to her, but she just stares back at me.
Her eyes judging and her lips frowning in disappointment.
It’s my imaginary friend. She’s followed me here, but she no longer speaks to me. Just hovers and stares.
He gets my attention. “What do you want, Eve? Hmm? Want me to fuck you?”
“Yes…please.” This is what he wants, but it’s what I want too. I have this itch between my legs. I need him to help me. He’s the only one who can. No one else touches me but him.
He kneels once more and grips my chin. “Come on, Eve. Beg me to fuck your cunt. Tell me you want to come.”
“I want to come. Please let me come. I’ve been a good dolly.
” I try to reach out to him, but I can’t.
I’m strapped in a straitjacket. It’s tight and my arms have gone numb.
Or they no longer exist, I’m not sure. Haven’t been able to use them in days.
I got in trouble and was strapped in this for punishment.
“I’ll tell you what. You suck my cock really good, and I’ll let you come. How’s that sound?”
I lean forward, parting my lips for him, needing him.
He lowers his zipper and pulls out his dick. His hand slaps me across the face, and I cry out from the sting on my cheek. Gripping my hair, he yanks my head back and shoves his cock into my mouth, gagging me.
I lean over, my hands on the tile. My abs tighten as my body strains while I vomit on the shower floor.
“You’re okay, Eve.” Kashton’s hand softly rubs my back, and I close my watery eyes.
“Such a good dolly.”
I do it again at the memory of his voice. For so long I was able to block him out. Maybe it was the drugs they forcibly shot me up with, or maybe I was just good at denial.
“Get her something to wear,” I hear Kashton order over my dry heaving.
“I’m sorry.” I sniff as drool runs from my parted lips. I spit it onto the shower floor and add, “I…didn’t know.”
He won’t love me. Not anymore. I’m trash. Disgusting. I didn’t know Evan was my half brother at the time, but that doesn’t matter. I was exactly what he trained me to be—his whore.
The thought has me vomiting once again.
“I don’t think we should move her,” Haidyn speaks.
“We need to get her the fuck away from here,” Kashton growls. “She needs medical assistance, and she’s safer at Carnage. We’ll grab something that we can take with us in case she gets sick in the car. Wet a washcloth to bring as well.”
“We need to do something with the cut. That tourniquet isn’t going to be enough. It’s too deep,” Saint observes.
“Eve?” Kashton’s hands are on my wet face, his eyes on mine. “Do you have your bag here with you?”
My bag? “No.” It’s at the motel.
“What bag?” Haidyn demands.
Kashton ignores him, sighing. “Go to the kitchen,” he orders Saint. “Grab a knife and a lighter. She keeps them next to the sink.”
“Kash, man…what the fuck?”
“It’s our only option at the moment,” Kashton snaps at Haidyn.
I don’t understand why or what they’re arguing about.
Kashton pulls me out of the shower and places me on the bathroom floor, flat on my back. He straddles my chest and grabs my wrists, pushing them above my head, pinning them to the cold floor. I’m soaking wet, naked, and freezing. My teeth chatter. “Kash—”
His blue eyes are soft, his lips frowning. “I’m sorry, Eve. This is going to hurt, but it’ll be over quick.”
Fingers grip my thighs, and they’re spread wide open. “Please…” I beg, trying to squirm free, but they’re too strong.
“It’s okay, angel. You’re going to be okay,” Kashton tells me, but I think he’s lying. “Eyes on mine, okay? Look at me.”
Something cold runs over my thigh, and I scream at the burn. It stings. My body starts to tremble under Kashton.
“Hold her,” Haidyn barks.
“I am,” Saint growls.
“Hurry up,” Kashton shouts, his hands tightening around my wrists, making me whimper.
“Please…stop…” A scream is ripped from my mouth, and my back bows off the floor when I feel like they lit my leg on fire.