25. Colton
Chapter 25
Colton
I have to admit, I’m fucking impressed.
My girl is a firebolt from hell, a vicious hellcat I didn’t see coming. I knew she was feisty, and when I learned who she really was, I couldn’t wait to get back to her.
Luella Watts.
The name echoes in my mind, conjuring images of the past I’d rather forget. Daughter of a man who was once close to my father, another old monster with a taste for the innocent. My stomach churns, bile rising at the thought of what she must have endured. The scent of old cigars and whiskey fills my nostrils, a ghostly reminder of the power and corruption that has stained my life.
But then I remember who else she is.
Sophia’s sister.
Sophia, her wide eyes frozen in terror, her skin drained of warmth. She was snuffed out right before me, her life extinguished as easily as a candle in a breeze. The memory assaults me, vivid and relentless—the metallic tang of blood hanging heavy in the air, her screams silenced forever. The quiet that followed was deafening, a void that swallowed all sound, leaving only the dull thud of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I did nothing to save her. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but stare as the light faded from her eyes. The fear of my father’s wrath was a paralyzing force, a cold hand gripping my heart, squeezing until I could barely breathe. The taste of bile rose in my throat as I watched, frozen, as her lifeless body crumpled to the floor.
And here Luella is, like a ghost from the past, trying to avenge her sister. Her eyes, so like Sophia’s, spark with a dangerous mix of determination and pain. But she doesn’t understand the danger she’s in, the depths of depravity that my father indulges in.
Stupid, stupid girl.
The words echo in my mind, a bitter mantra. She walked into the lion’s den, thinking she could tame the beasts within. But she doesn’t know the true nature of the monsters she’s facing, the darkness that has taken root in their souls—in my soul.
I gaze at her, returning to the present as the wind whips around us. I wanted to test her strength, for a start. I wasn’t sure how I would do it, but she took the reins and did it for me. She’s not like the others. I’ve never met anyone who fights like this—who refuses to break. It pisses me off, but it’s also...thrilling, and it makes me want to claim her even more.
Fucking firebolt.
Every breath feels like knives stabbing into my ribs, the pain radiating through my chest. It’s like my lungs can’t expand all the way, like they’re being crushed. Fucking carton, fucking her. I’m going to teach her not to fucking mess with me. I can’t understand the bitch—I’m trying to fucking protect her and she attacks me like that?!
You did rape her; Blackwood by name, Blackwood by nature , the voice reminds me sweetly.
“Fuck you!” I mutter, as Luella struggles in my arms.
She’s fucking strong, her body twists and writhes, every movement proving her strength and resilience. I can feel the raw power in her limbs, the wildness she’s been hiding beneath that sweet, innocent facade. It’s exhilarating and infuriating all at once. I tighten my grip, feeling her fight against me like a wild animal caught in a trap.
“You’re one tough bitch, aren’t you?” I growl, my voice laced with a mix of admiration and frustration. Her blonde hair whips against my face, the strands catching in my stubble. I can smell her fear, her rage, and something else—something primal and defiant. It’s intoxicating.
My vision blurs slightly, the pain in my chest intensifying with each struggle. Everything starts to spin, and I can feel the darkness at the edges of my consciousness threatening to consume me. But I won’t let it. Not yet. Not while she’s still fighting. I need to get her back in the bunker.
“You can either come with me willingly or fight me. I don’t care which, but you’re coming with me regardless.”
“Fuck you! I’ll fight you all the way, sweetheart.” Luella smiles at me, reminding me we aren’t that different after all. She’s as fucked up as me.
The voices in my head whisper again, their chorus a chaotic symphony of torment. They laugh, they mock, they remind me of every goddamn thing I’ve ever done—every mistake, every failure, every fucking sin.
You’re taking her as a prisoner again, Colton? one voice taunts. You’re just like him. Just like your father.
“Shut up!” I snarl, both to the voice and to Luella. I’m so distracted by the voices, I don’t see her elbow as it crashes into my solar plexus, stealing my breath and sending a wave of agony through my body. I double over, my grip almost loosening just enough for her to slip free. But I’m tired and in pain, so I do what I have to do.
I backhand her, hard, watching as the blood spurts from her mouth, the shock in her eyes. But she’s a wildcat, like I said, and even as she falls to the floor, she jumps back up, a fucking vision in blood and rage. Pure fire.
How the fuck does she do that? How does she keep fighting when anyone else would have crumbled?
“You’re not going to kill me, Colton,” Luella says, her voice suddenly calm, her eyes searching mine. She’s looking for a weakness she can exploit. She’s smart, too fucking smart. “You’re not like him. Not yet.”
Her words hit harder than any punch.
“You’re not like him.”
“I know I’m not. This is me, baby.”
The voices howl in protest, their screams deafening. Lies! They’re all lies! You’re a Blackwood, born and bred. You can’t escape your nature.
“Please, Colton,” Luella whispers, her voice barely audible. “Don’t let him win. Don’t let the darkness consume you.”
And there it is—the plea, the offer of redemption. But it’s too late. The darkness is already here, its tendrils wrapping around my heart, squeezing until there’s nothing left but pain and rage.
“He already has,” I say, my voice like ice. And with that, I lunge for her, the darkness roaring in my ears, drowning out the voices, drowning out everything but the storm inside me. She lunges at me, nails bared like claws, a feral scream ripping through the air. I barely dodge her attack, my reflexes slowed by the throbbing pain in my chest. She’s a whirlwind of fury, all pretense of the meek and mild maid vanished. It’s mesmerizing, even if it pisses me off.
“You’re going to have to do better than that, little hellcat,” I taunt, circling her like a predator.
She mirrors my movements, her eyes never leaving mine, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She’s exhausted, but so am I.
This is a battle of wills, and I’ll be damned if I lose.
Every movement feels like fire spreading through my chest. She’s fast, and I can barely keep up. My lungs scream for air, but I push through it. I can’t let her see me weak—not now.
She feints left, then darts right, catching me off guard. Her fist connects with my jaw, sending a burst of pain through my skull. I see stars, but I laugh. I can’t help it. This fucking girl, this tiny, blonde bombshell, is giving me a run for my money.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I spit out, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Her eyes narrow, and she charges again. This time, I’m ready. I catch her wrists, spin her around, and pin her against the wall. Her body trembles with rage and exertion, but she’s trapped.
“Let me go, you fucking bastard!” she screams, thrashing against my hold.
I lean in, my voice a low growl in her ear. “Not a chance, sweetheart. You’re mine now.”
“I won’t let you take me again, Colton,” she hisses, her voice like venom. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
The voices in my head cackle, their laughter echoing through my skull like a nightmare. You hear that, Colton? They won’t stop, their chorus a relentless tide of cruelty. She’s got more fight in her than you ever had. She’s not afraid of you, not like they were.
“You think I won’t?” I growl, my vision still swimming from the pain. I take a step forward, my body swaying slightly. I’m a fucking mess, but I can’t back down. Not now. Not with her. “You think I fucking care if I have to drag your corpse back to that bunker?”
My father would’ve already broken her by now. He wouldn’t have hesitated.
I told you you’re the same as him. The voices are relentless today.
Luella’s lips curl into a snarl, her body tense and ready. She’s not backing down either. She’s fucking fearless, and it’s driving me insane. I can feel the darkness inside me clawing at my insides, begging to be let out. It wants to consume her, to break her, to prove that I’m not the weak fucking failure the voices claim I am.
But there’s another part of me, a part that’s drawn to her strength, her defiance. It’s the part that sees in her a reflection of my own struggle, my own desperate fight against the darkness that threatens to engulf me. It’s the part that whispered promises of redemption in her ears, that begged her to save me from myself.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, trying to silence the warring voices inside me. I need to focus, to decide. Do I give in to the darkness, let it consume me, let it consume her? Or do I fight it, cling to the shred of humanity she’s ignited within me?
Luella takes advantage of my momentary hesitation. She slams her head back, connecting with my nose. Pain explodes across my face, blinding me momentarily. She slips from my grasp, ducks under my arm, and makes a run for it.
I stagger back, cursing under my breath as I try to regain my bearings. Blood pours from my nose, dripping onto the ground. I reach up, touch my face, and stare at the crimson stain on my fingers. The sight of it sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. It’s a wake-up call, a brutal reminder of the reality I’m facing.
The voices scream in my head, their fury deafening. They demand retribution, demand that I chase her down, that I make her pay.
A quiet rage takes over me as I tear after her, my hand curling into a fist at the ends of her hair when I reach her.
There’s no time for conversation now. She’s mine, and I’m taking her back to the safety of the bunker.
God, if my father knew her spirit, he’d be determined to break it...
“Get off me!” Luella screams as I drag her back to the bunker, one hand in her hair, the other around her throat. I tighten my grip as we make it past the front door, and I throw her as far as I can inside. She lands hard on the cold concrete floor, her breath knocked out of her. She looks up at me, eyes filled with a mix of fear, hatred, and defiance. I stand in the doorway, chest heaving, blocking her only exit. The metallic taste of blood still lingers in my mouth, a reminder of the battle we just fought.
The voices in my head are quieter now, subdued by the adrenaline coursing through my veins. But they’re still there, whispering their cruel taunts, urging me to break her, to prove myself. I push them away, lock them in a corner of my mind. I need to think. I need to decide what to do with this wildcat I’ve caught.
Luella glares at me, rubbing her throat where my hand had been. “You’re a fucking monster,” she rasps, her voice hoarse from screaming and fighting.
I smirk, leaning against the doorframe. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”
She watches me warily, like a cornered animal ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness. But I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, the slight tremble in her limbs. She’s reached her limit, and she knows it. For now, she’s trapped.
I step inside the bunker, closing the heavy door behind me. The sound of it shutting echoes through the small space, final and ominous. Luella flinches slightly but holds my gaze, her chin lifted in defiance.
“What now, Colton?” she asks, her voice laced with bitterness. “You going to lock me up again? Beat me into submission?”
I run a hand through my hair, considering her question. I could do that. I could break her, make her submit. It’s what the voices want, what my father would do.
It’s what she deserves, the voice sings, sending fury to every nerve in my body.
“You’re not leaving here,” I tell her, striding into the kitchen. I know I shouldn’t turn my back on her for a second, but she’s exhausted. I pick up the rope and handcuffs I kept hidden there and turn back to her. I dangle both in front of her, watching as her eyes narrow. She knows what’s coming, but she still doesn’t back down. I’m giving her a choice, but we both know it’s just another form of control. “Rope or handcuffs?”
It doesn’t matter what she picks. Either way, she’s mine.