Depravity

Chapter 26 Knox

KNOX

Keeping to myself has always been a part of who I am.

Filling the air with noise, like Jett does, is a waste of breath. Dangerous, too.

When you don’t stop talking, you don’t have a chance to slow down.

To stay vigilant.

To focus on your rituals and never mess up.

But back there, in the basement, staying silent was a necessity too. And fucking unbearable.

Not being able to tell Skylar it was going to be okay while my family murdered Bronwyn nearly drove me insane.

My throat ached. My lips burned.

She needed me down there in that basement. And I wasn’t able to hug her. Couldn’t talk to her.

All I could do was squeeze her chin tighter, pathetic and useless.

Even now that we’re out of there, I still can’t say a word to comfort Skylar.

Poor thing is out cold on my shoulder as I carry her to my basement. Her limbs hang slack. Her breathing is shallow.

It was all my fucked-up family’s fault. They pushed her, gave Bronwyn the worst they’d ever dealt anyone—at least that I’d seen—just to test me.

By doing so, they might’ve scarred Skylar.

I could kill them. Could crush them with my fist for hurting her.

If they ever pull this shit with her again, I’m done defending them.

As much as I care for my family, Skylar matters more than anyone else in that farmhouse does.

Anyone in the world.

She’s my one and only. And she needs me.

I’ll fix it for her. I’ll be harsh and demanding until every one of her thoughts belongs to me.

Until I’m the only scar today leaves behind.

We’re alone, which makes everything easier. I won’t need to fight anyone while I help her.

Ma and Papa are busy skinning Bronwyn. Jett’s probably there, kissing Papa’s ass while mopping the floors. Reese and Grandpa always crash after an execution.

For the next few hours, I can take care of her in peace.

My boots pound as hard as my heart against the familiar cement of my sanctuary. I lower Skylar onto the table, ripping my mask off her face.

Impatience drives me to strip every scrap of clothing from her body. When I’m done, I set her upright on the rough tabletop.

Fuck them all to hell. They broke her until she wept. The sound that rips from my throat isn’t human. That’s how much I hate them.

That hate births something else inside me. A solution. A brutal one, yes, but better than letting her sink under it. I’ll have to be mean to push their memories out of her, to put her back together again.

I snatch up the rope and bind her wrists tight with both her hands in front of her body.

Her nudity taunts me. The marks I’ve left on her too.

And though I want nothing more than to stuff my fat dick into her right this minute, I stick to my plan.

With my brow furrowed and my muscles drawn tight, I carry her to the center of the basement. Loop the other end of the rope around the hook in the center, the hook that belongs to her.

Tie. Pull. Secure it.

She’s naked and stretched for me, entirely at my mercy.

A hiss rises in my throat, ancient as our damned town.

It whispers, Mine.

No one else is allowed to touch her. Look at her.

Hurt her.

She’s going to learn that now. How the rest of the world is nothing but background noise.

How there’s only me, the reckoning she needs. Her salvation and her damnation, all wrapped up in one.

Knife in hand, I’m ready to start.

“Trouble.” My free hand is a collar around her throat, my lips brushing the corner of her mouth. “Wake up.”

I pull back in time to see her eyebrows drawing tight. Her eyes, still closed, clench in terror.

Terror someone else put in her.

“Skylar, do not test me. Wake”—the knife handle digs into my palm, grooves burning my skin—“the fuck”—I drag the blade slowly over the curve of her waist—“up.”

Even with her hair damp with sweat, she smells like heaven.

Her gasp when I choke her is so sweet.

She jerks. Green eyes flash open. Confusion and panic fill them.

I’m addicted.

“There you are.” Not a greeting. Not a welcome.

Not even I missed you, which I did.

This is a warning.

“Knox?” she whispers, eyes locked on mine, too scared to look anywhere else. She blinks fast. Tests her binds. “They’re here?”

I don’t reassure her. Don’t smile. Don’t wink.

I let her fear build up, pinning her under a gaze meant to haunt her nightmares. There’ll be no Jett there, no Reese applying blush on a dying Bronwyn.

No one but me.

“Answer me.” Terror taints her voice, saturating the air between us. “We’re still there?”

I barely hear her, but I don’t need to. I feel the vibration of the words in her throat. My cock jerks as tears gather on her thick lashes.

“I thought we passed the test. They lied? Oh God. They told you to tie me up, didn’t they?” Eyes wide. Cheeks pale. “To kill me? Bronwyn. Jesus. The things they did…you’re gonna do the same to me. It was either you or me, right?”

Fire burns me everywhere. My skin. My brain. My goddamn bones.

The thought that I’d let anyone force me into mutilating her? Killing her?

I already told her I’d sacrifice myself a million times over before I damage her.

Panicked or not, she should trust me.

I shove aside the sting in my chest, the selfish need that’s clawing at me.

This isn’t about me, this exercise.

It’s about her.

She needs reassurance. It’s more important than anything at this point.

“You tell me.” I loosen my grip on her neck. The small mercy doesn’t send blood to her cheeks. They’re still pale. A little ashen. “Would I ever let anyone take you from me? Hmm? Would I ever kill you? Is my life more important than yours?”

“It is.” A sob. “You have so much to see. So many places to go to. You deserve to have it.”

“No.” I’m done playing. Done dragging this out.

My cock pulses as the blade kisses her waist, breaking skin with a shallow cut. The breath whooshes out of her, her jaw going slack.

Pain seizes her face, how her eyes focus, seeing me anew.

Her home. Her truth.

She’s mine.

“You don’t have to lie, Knox. If you have to kill me, that’s fine.” Two pearly tears roll down her cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You have no other choice. I understand, it’s—”

Clearly, the way I’m handling this does more harm than good. Her mind keeps drifting to my family, and fuck that.

“No one’s making me do anything.” I seethe, grabbing her jaw and twisting her head left and right. Back to me. “We’re home. Their tests are over. And you’re forgetting”—another cut, along the curve of her hip now—“it wouldn’t have mattered if we failed. Wouldn’t have mattered one goddamn bit.”

“There were so many of them…” Her sobs gut me. Rip me apart.

I almost—almost—take her down and crush her to my chest.

Can’t. Won’t. Not yet.

“Let me tell you exactly why we’re here, Trouble.”

With her throat back in my grip, I step back. Just enough space to let my gaze drag over her naked body. Down the swell of her breasts. Her navel.

“Jesus, you’re gorgeous like that. Bleeding for me. Need you. Your sweet pussy, want that too. To rut into you.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “But—no.”

“No, what?” The hook rattles violently. She has no chance against my binding or the bolts that pin it to the ceiling. “Talk to me. Fucking talk to me.”

She doesn’t ask, Why are you doing this? Why the knife?

Deep down, she understands there’s no other way to wipe the others from her memory.

“No, I won’t fuck you, Skylar.” My knife cracks against one of her gashes. “Not yet.”

Precum dampens my cock at the wet sound of the knife connecting with her flesh. At her broken whimper.

“Here’s why.” I drag the blade over her hipbone, carving a third shallow cut. “First…”

Blood coats the steel, and I use the flat edge to smear it across her body, painting her red.

Her anguished groans are the fuel I need to keep going.

“You’ll be here, on this hook…” I release her throat, wrap my arm around her, and pull her to me. Her blood soaks my clothes. Her hot breath mingles with mine. “Until the pain makes the others disappear. Until there’s only me, the best and worst thing you’ll ever live through. Until you get that…”

Talking is hard when I pin the tip of the blade to her flesh. I don’t see but feel it skimming the curve of her ass.

When I press it to her butt cheek, breaking skin, she gasps, and the sound is full of need.

I’m just as hot, as fucking feral for her.

“Get what?” she breathes.

“That as long as I’m alive…” Maybe if I do this, lower my mouth to her neck, part my lips, and bite her, maybe that’ll scare her. “No one touches you.”

She screams, letting me know it does. When I spank her with the knife, and she cries out my name, I almost come in my jeans.

God, I want her.

“I’ll torch the farmhouse. Snap their necks with my bare hands.” I pull her toward me, grinding her naked body against me. “I’m that strong. That feral. I’d have killed your sister myself if they’d let me.”

“Y-Yes.” Her pulse is a ticking bomb beneath my lips. “I swear. I get it. You can let me go now. It hurts.”

I reach around to cut her other butt cheek.

She howls when I grab a fistful of her wounded flesh. “Knox, stop it. You’re hurting me.”

“I don’t want them on you anymore.” Her ass fills my hand, her blood coating the inside of my palm. “Don’t pretend you don’t want that too.”

“There are other ways.” She should be kicking me. Cursing me. Instead, she clings to me, legs wrapping tight around my waist. Desperate. Begging. “We can talk about it. You can hug me.”

Rage slices through me. She considers me a source of comfort instead of the biggest monster out here.

I’m failing her. I’m—

I know what to do. Know how to fix this.

She gets off on pain when it’s inflicted on her. But if I bleed for her, she won’t have it. Hurting her loved ones, that’s what scares Skylar the most.

Her smooth forehead creases when I pry her legs off me. Every step I take backward deepens these lines.

“Where are you going?” Her chest heaves once she’s finally able to speak. “What are you doing? Don’t leave me here.”

“I won’t.” I stop, and with my eyes on hers, I press the blade to my arm, right above my elbow. “I’m right here. Always will be.”

My skin is splitting. Blood trickles from the shallow cut.

Feels so good.

The anguish flashing across her face is better.

“No!” Her face crumples in agony. “No! Stop it!”

While her love—the one she hasn’t admitted to yet—warms my sick, twisted heart, I won’t revel in it.

This isn’t about me.

“I’m doing it for your own good.” The blade sinks deeper, hot rivulets running down my arm, over my elbow, dripping to the floor.

Her chin trembles as she stares at the cut. “How the hell is this for my own good?”

“Their actions were brutal.” The second cut, the third, they don’t even register.

Nothing does except her hardened nipples. The thin red lines I carved into her. Her arousal wetting her inner thighs.

“So?” Her question breaks on a sob.

“Don’t lie to me, Skylar.” I toy with the knife, teasing another untouched strip of skin on my arm. My cock throbs as the beast inside me takes over. “You know damn well why I’m doing this. Say it.”

“Stop!” She bares her teeth to me, fighting against her restraints. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Or what?” I challenge, feeling like we’re getting somewhere.

She slams her mouth shut, her shoulders sagging. She’s changed her entire demeanor in the blink of an eye, tempting me to pity her. To put an end to this. To hug her.

No.

“Talk, Skylar, or else.”

“No or else. I’ll tell you.” She looks at me from beneath her lashes, misery bleeding from her gaze. “I’ll tell you if you just stop hurting yourself. Please. I can’t lose you.”

I tilt my head, not saying a word.

She needs to say it. I have to trust that she understands.

“Thank you.” Her exhale is all emotion. All relief and love.

“Go on.” I adjust my aching cock in my jeans, because this—her, caring for me—is hotter than if she were down here on her knees sucking me off. “You’ve got five seconds to start talking, or I’ll skin my entire arm.”

I’m not bullshitting her. I mean it. For her, I’d do that.

That, and so much more.

“I heard you. I really heard you, I swear. You’re replacing them. The farmhouse, the things I saw there.”

“Replacing them with what?” Keeping my voice level is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I’m choking on how much I love her.

“With you. If all I see is you bleeding for me, I’ll forget them.

” Her chest heaves, breasts rising and falling.

Her bottom lip trembles as she sucks in air.

“You’ve made your point. You’re right. I don’t even care how Bronwyn died anymore, or that I wasn’t the one to kill her.

Okay? Put the knife down. Please. Come to me. ”

I whip my shirt over my head, marking a shallow X cut over my heart. “This,” I say. “This is where you’ll always stay.”

“Please, stop.”

“I will now.”

The knife clatters to the floor. I gather blood from the fresh wound over my chest. When it’s soaked, I go over to her.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” She leans into my hand as I cup her jaw with my blood-soaked hand. “I understand why you did it, but I hated it. If anyone should be bleeding, should be hurting, it should be me. Always me.”

“Like hell.” With my mouth, I take what’s mine, and it’s her. I bite her lip, taste her scream, and chase it with my tongue. “Tell me, what will you remember about today? Ten years from now? Thirty? Fifty?”

When she doesn’t answer, my palm cracks against her ass, then smears her blood on her. We’re a mess—perfect, brutal chaos.

“Please,” she mumbles. “Please.”

Taking a deep breath, I pull back. Tilt her face higher, forcing her to look into my soul.

She does. Her eyes flash as she remembers our bond. The truth of us.

“Out of everything that happened today, I’ll remember you. Only you.” Another tear slips free. “Knox, does that make me a bad person?”

“No, Trouble. Not at all.”