Depravity

Chapter 24 Skylar

SKYLAR

Hands clenching and unclenching. My breath is ragged. Heated.

It’s killing me to wait here for Knox without knowing what’s going on.

My gut tells me something’s wrong.

But what?

He peeked in here earlier and then left. I got so mad when he closed the door behind him, so nervous that I jumped to my feet and haven’t been able to sit down since.

My feet carry me across the basement floor, back and forth, over and over. I’m sure I’ve worn a path into it.

What’s taking him forever?

The question plays on a loop in my head.

At least he’s alive and not fighting anyone upstairs. I hear his low, grumbly voice right outside the door.

I hope it stays that way.

As big and terrifying as he is, if they decide to execute him for protecting me, they could likely manage it.

They’re four bloodthirsty adults against the two of us.

The longer he’s up there, the more agitated I become. My teeth disturb my bottom lip.

All my senses home in on the damn door.

On him.

I keep waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

“Fuck,” I groan. “Fuck.”

I have to do something else besides pace.

Like get ready in case they bring the fight to us.

I rush to the table and pull on one of Knox’s shirts and a pair of his sweatpants that hang four sizes too big. Even when I yank the drawstrings tight, they slide right back down, so I roll the waistband until it finally stays in place.

Now what?

Wait some more?

My fingers twitch at my sides.

I need to put them to good use. I need my arms wrapped around Knox.

And since he isn’t here, I do the next best thing. Pace and braid my hair. Unbraid it. Braid it. Unbraid—

The basement door slides open with a soft whoosh.

My adrenaline-soaked body registers it like a gunshot through an empty hall.

I whip around and there he is. Filling the doorway, his barely restrained wrath vibrating from him.

“They asked you to hurt me, didn’t they?” Being left alone has poisoned me with panic. Thoughts I wouldn’t have voiced minutes ago spit out of my dark, terrified subconscious at rapid speed. “Chop a finger off to prove your loyalty?”

Knox descends the stairs in terrifying silence. One thunk and his walkie drops to the floor.

My chin is squeezed between two calloused, demanding fingers that tilt my face up.

This close to Knox, breathing him in, I see him with perfect clarity.

He isn’t angry.

Feral protectiveness rolls off him in waves. The word mine is practically written all over his face.

“They didn’t ask that. And even if they did, I’d cut my own hand off before I touched one of your fingers.” His teeth grind loud enough for me to hear. His fingers will fracture my chin if he keeps crushing it like that. “My whole arm.”

I believe him. But there’s more he isn’t telling me. “What did they say, then?”

“Your sister’s going to die today,” he deadpans.

That doesn’t surprise me. Her death here was never a question of if, but when.

What rips a whimper from my throat, what sends tears to my eyes, is the unfairness of it all.

Murdering her is my right. My revenge.

Not theirs.

And Knox isn’t going to do a damn thing about it.

Of course he won’t. I never told him I wanted her blood in the first place. He isn’t a mind reader.

As more tears slide down my cheeks, Knox’s patience snaps.

“What’s this?” He shakes my head. His features twist into a cruel expression. I still can’t bring myself to tell him what a monster I’ve become. “Are you fucking pitying her?”

Heat prickles under my skin, knees threatening to give out beneath me.

My body revolts against the idea.

Knox watches me closely, cursing under his breath.

Then, he huffs.

Ever-so-slowly, his intimidating silence transforms into It’s fine, you can cry.

So I cry. Because I won’t be able to have my revenge. Because I can’t be completely honest with him.

While I do, he’s giving me his undivided attention, waiting it out with me.

Eventually, my tears slow to a stop. I’ve got this.

“Okay, so, they’re going to kill her.” Getting through today, that’s what I have to focus on. That’s what matters. I’ll have to find another way to deal with Bronwyn’s betrayal by myself. I brush the tears off. Stand up straighter. “What else did they want? What are we up against?”

The moment I say we, his entire body tenses.

I think his heart’s stopped.

All because I said we, like we’re a team.

Well, we are. And we are going to make it out of here. Together.

“They want to watch you break.” His expression is back to neutral. Harsh and calculating. “Want to crush you emotionally, as a test for me. To see if you’ve softened me. If I step in to protect you from these sights.”

Sadly, it makes sense that they’d suspect us. That they’d want this test.

We’ve been reckless, staying here, isolated from the world for too long. He hasn’t invited any of them to mock me, to torture me.

We’re going to pay for our mistakes.

“They’re going to make me be there.” The more I think about it, as I remember the axe, I start losing it for real. My lips go numb. Blood pressure plummets. “When they torture her, right?”

Before I collapse to the floor, I manage to cling to Knox’s shirt. He already has an arm hooked around my back.

“Yes.” The word lands like a surgeon saying “scalpel.” Emotionless. Precise. He’s bracing me for what’s coming, forcing me to be as cold as he is. “You’ll get to see her die. Get the revenge you wanted, even if you won’t be the one killing her.”

“Excuse me?” My cheeks burn. My heart pounds. Is this his way of telling me he knows I’m a monster? How he’s breaking up with me? “I never said I wanted to kill her.”

“Skylar.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I shudder. “It’s okay to want that. Bad people deserve to die.”

“Oh…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re really okay with me wanting it?”

“Of course. She was going to kill you.” His words steady me, and when my eyes open, his are soft.

“I wish I could let you get your revenge, but this is all we have. The only caveat is watching her be tortured, which no one should have to endure. It’ll be a lot for you.

Just remember I’m there, that I’ve got you. Okay?”

Thoughts of gore, suffering, and the axe are jammed in the back of my mind.

What fills me instead is Knox. He’s seen the darkest part of me and hasn’t turned away. He isn’t disgusted. He isn’t gone.

He’s still here, caressing me, steadying me with his thumb.

His eyes talk to me.

Say yes.

“Okay.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. What will go down there might haunt me for the rest of my life, but I’m not doing it for them. I’m going to be there for Knox. “Okay.”

After letting out a satisfied hum, he scoops me up, cradling me until we get to the table, where he puts me down.

With his gaze sealed on mine, he reaches behind me, grabbing something.

I see what he has there when he holds it up to my face.

His mask.

“They won’t get to see your face.” He loosens the cords, his hand sliding to the side of my neck. He holds my gaze for a long second before leaning in to retie them around my neck. “The mask will stand between you and them. All you have to do is promise me not to make a sound, even if you cry.”

My heart expands at the gesture. It feels so good, so right, to let him put his mask on me.

Despite the violence simmering just beneath his skin, he doesn’t yank on the cords. Doesn’t pull a single strand of my hair.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He shrugs, then returns to adjusting the mask, which lies askew on my face.

That’s when it hits me. This mask isn’t just a shield. It’s a badge of honor. His way of binding himself to me.

As I think about it, something unfurls inside me.

Knox’s spirit is giving me strength…while he’s still alive. There’s something about the mask, about him, that’s turning me colder. Stronger.

“Better.” His entire face tightens. His resolve is an impenetrable rock. “Fucking better. And so goddamn beautiful, Trouble.”

His gaze is unyielding. Consuming. Promising me that with him, I’ll always be protected. That he won’t hesitate to kill if it means I’ll be safe.

His darkness is my light. My warmth.

We should strategize. I have to brace myself for what I’m about to witness.

I rebel against doing either.

There’s something else on my mind.

A sharp memory of the first night I was here.

In the guest room.

The way he played my body, how he used his mask and tongue to make me come…

Jesus fuck.

As if having a mind of their own, my fingers drift up, brushing the mask just above my lips, right at the slit. Just like his tongue licked me, I swipe my tongue over my fingers, then my entire palm as Knox’s stare stalks my every move.

He’s eating it up, his breathing as labored as mine. As I make love to my hand, the sheer depravity of the moment becomes a third entity in the room.

There’s no stopping this, all this lust and murderous energy.

The fire we’re creating stokes higher when Knox grabs my wrist and shoves my wet hand to his crotch.

He’s hard, throbbing. Constricted by his jeans and begging to be taken out.

I’m just as eager to have him in my palm.

“I could help you.” I don’t sound like I did the first time I offered him help. I hardly recognize my own voice, it’s so rugged.

He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes.” I’m breathless, my fingers closing over the button of his jeans, my eyes pleading with him to let me. “You know I can. Here, if I could just…”

“No time. I want to get it over with.” He scowls, looking just as agonized as I feel. “But when we’re back, I’ll fuck your hand. And I won’t stop there.”

When we’re back feels too far away. Like it might never come at all.

Like there’s a chance I might lose him.

And that’s where the mask fails me.

As empowered as I feel, I can’t stop worrying about Knox.

His family might’ve lied about just making me watch my sister’s murder. Sick bastards they are, they might take it further.

If they touch me, Knox would try to protect me. He might fail.

The image of him paralyzed and at their mercy sends shivers down my spine. Bile rises in my throat. I think I’m going to be sick.

“Come on.” Confident and fearless, he cups my cheeks, his touch hot despite the mask separating us. “You’ll be better off once it’s behind us. Let’s go.”

Together, we climb the stairs and stop in the living room. He drops onto a worn couch, settles me beside him, and kisses the top of my head. I watch him shove on socks and boots before slinging me over his shoulder.

His love surrounds me, sinking into my pores with every step he takes.

When we stop at the farmhouse’s front porch, Knox firms his hold on me.

“Skylar,” he speaks in a low voice.

“Yes?”

I wish more than anything that I could flatten my hands on his back and rub him. Can’t. They’ll be here any moment now.

“Remember what I said? No matter what goes on in there…” Groaning, he slides me off him and to the ground. “No matter what they do, you stay quiet, Trouble.”

He presses two fingers under my chin, tipping my face higher. Letting me bathe in his intensity and the power he radiates.

“You can cry silently. That’s it.” He puts a thumb to my mouth, rubbing the still-damp slit. “Twist your lips into a snarl, for all I care. You don’t make a sound, you hear?”

I hear him. Him…and the footsteps heading toward us.

Every ominous step fucks with my psyche further.

Fear. Desire.

Violence.

I want to murder every single person in that farmhouse—my sister included.

“Skylar.” Knox brushes my hair to the front of my body. When he takes too long, I realize what he’s doing. Hiding the hickeys and bite marks. “Promise me.”

Even with all these feelings raging inside me, I find it in myself to give him the one thing he needs. My word.

As quietly as I can, I whisper, “I promise.”