36. Erica
Cain’s hand wraps around mine and we hold the scalpel together.
We lower it to Nate’s chest, and the beeping accompanying his pulse gets so fast, I expect him to flatline.
I gasp as the tip of the blade slips into Nate’s skin like a hot knife into butter.
Blood rises from the puncture.
“Don’t be frightened,” Cain says.
“You ain’t doing this alone, Erica. You’ll never have to go through anything alone ever again. I’ll always be here to protect you and guide you. I’ll always be here to love you and cherish you like you deserve.”
He pushes the scalpel in deeper.
My heart beats in my throat as we separate layers of flesh and muscle.
It’s easy.
Too easy.
I don’t know why, but I expected more violence.
A brutal struggle to wrench open skin and tissue.
Nausea ripples in waves through my stomach, and I want to look away, but I can’t.
I don’t actually want to, if I’m honest with myself.
It’s mesmerizing.
Vermillion streaks on pale skin.
“Don’t we need gloves?” I ask.
Cain chuckles.
“Naw, no need to worry about infections. Before I set him up for you, I ran the full spectrum of tests like I do with all my victims. I have a small lab in the side room because I don’t wanna spread around diseased organs. To my surprise, he’s clean.” His lips brush my cheek.
“I wouldn’t risk your health.”
A small laugh escapes me.
“How very considerate.”
“I aim to please,” Cain says, amusement lacing his tone.
We drag the scalpel over Nate’s stomach to his pelvis.
A long gash gapes down his middle, trickles of crimson turning into a sea of red on the silver table.
Tears stream down his cheeks, terror mirrored in his eyes.
A thrill shoots up my spine.
I grin.
He can feel every cut.
The agony must be overwhelming, and I bet Cain has given him something to stop him from passing out.
“What’s it like to know the bastard who ruined you is at your mercy, little dove? Do you feel that raw power, coursing through your bloodstream like a drug?”
I nod, breathless.
God, I feel it.
It’s a buzz filling my veins, making me feel taller and stronger.
My chest almost bursts with confidence, and I can’t stop smiling.
“Do you remember when I said that in this room, I’m your God?” Cain asks.
“Yes, Dr. Morrow.”
He lets out a guttural moan, pushing his erection against my back and I slide my thighs together as arousal blooms between them.
“Fuck, I love when you call me that.” Cain puts the scalpel on the cart and his hand loosely encases my throat.
“I’m still your God, but now, you’re a Goddess, too, and this pathetic little man is my offering to you. He’s a sacrifice to prove my love. You can do anything you want to him.”
“D-don’t you want to donate or sell his organs?”
“No, darlin’. This one’s all yours.”
Butterflies start a riot in my stomach, and I giggle.
Nate is mine to torment.
Cain interlaces our fingers and trails them along the edges of the cut, turning the tips red and sticky.
“Does this get you wet, little dove? And don’t lie to me. I already know you’re soaked, but I wanna hear it from those sinful lips of yours.”
Cain’s dirty talk is like a magic spell, switching off my rational brain.
When I submit to him like a small animal baring its throat to the sharp teeth of a predator, I am free.
“Yes, sir,” I choke out.
“I’m wet.”
“See, you’re just as sick as me,” he says, his voice laden with so much affection, I hear his words for what they are.
A compliment.
The truth .
And it’s about time I accept both.
From the moment we met, Cain recognized the seeds of darkness buried deep inside my heart, and he tended to them with patience until they bloomed.
I can see the world in its vibrant radiance now because of him.
Because he grew a beautiful garden of sin inside my chest, and I am filled with its colors.
His colors.
Cain spreads Nate’s wound with a metal tool, laying bare vulnerable red organs and white bones.
He picks up a small electric device with a round, jagged blade at the end and closes my hand around its hilt.
His guidance is steady as he presses a button on the front.
The machine whirrs to life and Cain brings the spinning blade to Nate’s breastbone.
Goosebumps rush along my arms as the saw makes contact.
A high-pitched, grating whine pierces my ears.
I should be disgusted.
Afraid.
But with Cain by my side, I can only be in awe.
My monster is letting me inside his world.
He’s making me a part of it, and I’ve never felt more at home.
When Cain has opened Nate’s ribs, he puts the saw aside and grabs my hand.
He forces it into the chest cavity, and I twitch, but he holds tight.
We brush past soft, warm meat and the ivory hardness of bone.
“Stomach,” Cain whispers.
We move deeper, higher.
He pushes my fingers into expanding and contracting tissue.
“Lungs. Can you feel them filling and deflating with every breath, little dove?”
My eyes roll as I bite back a moan and nod.
How can something this fucked up be so hot?
“You already own my heart, darlin’, and it will belong to you alone until the day it stops beating,” Cain whispers, guiding my hand higher yet.
“But how about I gift you this bastard’s heart as a trophy, too?”
My fingers touch a large, throbbing lump, and I forget to breathe.
Cain wraps our joined hands around it, and the rapid contractions make me dizzy with a rush of power.
I truly hold Nate’s life in my hand.
The sound of a zipper startles me and Cain flips up my skirt.
His thick cock slides between my thighs, rubbing over my slit in languid thrusts.
I’m still wearing panties, but the friction is enough to send fire through my hips.
“Oh my god…” I rasp as I realize what Cain is about to do.
He’s going to fuck me while we’re elbow-deep in my scumbag ex’s open chest cavity.