Killa, Part 2 (Unholy Savages MC #2)

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CASSIDY

The bedroom door swings open and slams against the wall, and I shoot up in bed.

What the hell?

Killa stands before me with pure, unadulterated hatred seething from his blue eyes. They’re so dark they’re deadly, holding a promise of retribution.

He isn’t the Killa I know him to be.

The one who runs baths for Noah, the one who holds me during my nightmares or takes control in situations that have me panicking. The protector.

Right now, standing before me is the Killa who hates me with every fiber of his being, the one who would kill me in a heartbeat and not spare me even a breath of air. He’s volatile, and, like a predator, ready to strike at any minute, consequences be damned.

“Killa?” I search his face for answers as to his change in demeanor.

The glare that bores into me is filled with deadly contempt, and I struggle to swallow the dread building in my mouth.

An alarm bell is ringing in my head to move, but I remain still.

I know what he wants, what he craves, and while I might not be able to give him the answers he deserves, I can give him the retribution and control he needs.

His hand darts out and grips my throat so tightly I know he’s going to leave marks, but I still refuse to cower to him or even attempt to struggle.

Nostrils flaring, the blue in his eyes has darkened to almost black, and the scent of alcohol rolls off him in unrelenting waves.

Jesus, I’m in trouble.

“What a beautiful Little Demon you are. I’m going to love destroying you.”

My heart skips a beat.

“I wanna play, Little Demon,” he growls, low and sexy, and somehow manages to throw me across the bed and flip me onto my stomach.

The feel of the mattress dipping lets me know he’s on the bed, and when his thick hand presses my face against the sheets, I know he’s detached himself from me again.

He’s lost in his head; I’m the enemy holding the key to his questions, and he’s the devil seeking answers that might always remain hidden.

He tugs down my sleep shorts, and I hate the excitement throbbing between my legs. I shouldn’t get off on this, I shouldn’t crave the orgasm his talented hands bring, but I do, and I loathe myself for it.

As I push back against his jeans, he slaps my ass hard with his free hand. “You trying to make a mess on my jeans, Little Demon?” One of his fingers dips down to my mouth, and I use my lips to pull it inside, to suck on it while he lowers his zipper. “You bein’ a little slut for me.”

I buck beneath him. “Gonna fuck you so hard,” he spits out. Then he thrusts his fingers inside me. “You have a wet cunt, for someone being forced to fuck.”

He knows he isn’t forcing me, that I want it; I think I always will.

I’d beg, plead, melt beneath his touch, it’s like I was created for him to toy with, and while I would walk into a fire for him, he would be the one to light it, knowing it was going to hurt me, knowing I would be burned.

He’d set me alight with a smile on his face, the same face I long to kiss, to witness laugh, and create new memories with.

“I’m going to use you all the time.” He thrusts forward hard, his thick cock stretching me to capacity, but I welcome it and his filthy words.

“Fuck. Even when you’re pregnant with my baby.

” He slams into me harder, faster. The thought of him wanting me pregnant sends a rush of exhilaration through me.

Jeez, I’m truly broken.

How can the thoughts of being pregnant with a baby by someone who hates me turn me on? And I’m sure as hell in no position to have another child; I can barely afford the one I’ve got.

“I’m going to keep taking you.” His cock slams in and out, in and out, faster and faster, and my ass bounces against his solid hips, his cock plunging deeper and deeper inside me.

Each filthy word he chants becomes a promise.

“Until you’re all round and knocked up with my kid while I fuck you.

” His hand glides over my stomach, and he groans.

“Fuck, I want that. Then you’ll be mine forever. ”

Is that what he plans? Me to be his forever? For me to be tied to him with a child.

The scenario causes me to whimper, and I push down the pain that thought brings with it. Somehow, I choke back the sob gathering in my chest. I don’t want that. Not again.

If I was to have another baby, I’d want it to be born out of love, not hate. Not again. Something I gave up on a long time ago.

The mattress squeaks beneath his quickening pace, and his grip tightens.

“Jesus, Cass.” The use of my nickname gives me hope. Maybe he’s coming back to me. Maybe his barely restrained rage is not a mask after all. “Gonna come,” he grits out as if it pains him to admit it.

On another deep thrust, he expands inside me, and warmth coats my inner walls. I want to revel in the fact that I gave him such pleasure, but the grip on my hip is bruising, and the tightening of his fingers tells me he isn’t finished, that the crescendo is yet to come.

I close my eyes, waiting for it to happen, and when he slides out of me, I squeeze my eyes closed tighter.

He removes his hand from my face, and the relief is instant, allowing me to breathe easier.

His heavy breaths fill the room, and I lie in wait for his command.

Without speaking a word, he repositions over the top of my ass and guides his slick cock up and down my asshole, and I can’t help but clench my cheeks together.

“You gonna make it difficult, Little Demon?” He chuckles sinisterly.

“No,” I quip back, and he slaps my ass hard.

“Then fuckin’ relax and let me take it.” His blunt demands are followed by another sharp slap to my ass. “Drives me fuckin’ wild that someone took some of your firsts from me. This hole is mine first.”

The anguish in his tone has me relaxing, and I bite my bottom lip to disguise the cry lodged in my throat. He can’t truly know the enormity behind them, but still, they hurt. He continues to slide the thick head of his cock up and down my hole, and I fight against the need to stiffen.

“You’re nice and wet with my cum, Little Demon. Gonna shove it deep inside your ass as well as your little cunt.”

His filthy words should disgust me, but I crave them and find myself pushing back, eager for more, eager to block out the turmoil from him wanting me so badly.

“Fuck, you want me to ride your tight, little hole.” He groans as the engorged head of his thick cock stretches me. “Relax, let me in.”

I reach out to grip the bedsheets.

“Fuck, it’s good.” The awe in his tone when he pushes another inch inside helps me ignore the burning sensation I feel with the stretch of his cock forcing my hole wider.

“Fuck, it looks so damn good, Cass. Your little asshole stretched open with my big cock.” He smooths a hand over my back, and I melt into his touch. “Yes, baby,” he pants out heavily.

The warmth of his caress and the softness of his voice send a rush of wetness between my legs, and the feeling of being full has me panting. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Holy shit, need to move. Need to fuck you so damn hard.” His fingers bite into my flesh.

Then he withdraws almost all the way out, causing me to wince, and he slams back inside me so hard a whoosh of air leaves my lungs and I cry out. “Oh god!”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up and let me take it.” His hips pump as if they work of their own accord.

Then he leans down to my ear, and the scent of alcohol flows over my face.

“Don’t want you waking Noah, baby.” His rough actions are a contrast to his tender words.

The fact he wants to punish me but protect Noah sends a flurry of happiness coupled with hurt through my body.

At least he’s proving to have some control while delivering this darkness, and it’s this that has me complying, giving myself to him willingly.

I push my face into the sheets and listen to the methodical sounds of his pants, grunts, and groans. Instead of becoming lost in my mind, I take comfort from his actions. The ache in my core intensifies with each brutal thrust.

“Jesus,” I pant out, and push back into him.

He slaps my ass, and the sting is euphoric. “Fuck. Fuck, baby.” Holding himself deep inside me, he stills, and I know the moment his orgasm has ebbed because I feel the change in him.

When he pulls out, I bite into the sheet to stop the pain of his oncoming rejection from lancing through me. My heart pounds against my chest, and I hate that I miss his warmth. I will myself not to cry. Not over this.

An almighty roar erupts from him, and I turn just in time to watch him clear my few belongings off the dresser.

His spent cock is tucked away, his chest heaves, and when he turns to face me, his eyes are deadly.

“I can’t keep doing this, Cass.” There’s an anguish behind them I want to diminish.

“I want to hurt you so fuckin’ bad,” he bellows, and tugs on his hair.

The action makes him appear deranged as he paces the room.

A sob catches in my chest. I know how much he wants to hurt me, and I want him to. I want him to take away the pain, mine and his, and if that means using me to do it, then so be it.

“Do you hear me?” His voice gets louder, gaining momentum at my silence. “I need fuckin’ answers.” He stabs his chest with his finger, and I want to tell him I don’t have them, but I know he won’t believe me. My response will only anger him further.

“You’re hiding shit from me.” His tone is pained. “You told me Gavin was a nobody. That you never slept with him.” Hurt flashes in his eyes before it’s quickly replaced with anger. “He’s Noah’s father.”

I flinch, realizing he’s been digging into my private life. Gavin assured me those records would be difficult to find, yet somehow, he found them. What else can he uncover? I pull the sheets up to my chin, clinging to them as if they’re going to protect me from his words.

“You’re a liar, Cassidy. A fuckin’ liar!” His chest heaves, his nostrils flare, and the vein at the side of his neck pulsates. “A goddamn liar!”

“I’m not. I swear I’m not,” I mumble and shake my head, but it’s futile. He’s too far gone. A desperate need to bring back the Killa I know overtakes me, and I sit up and let the sheet slip from me. “Killa, please listen. I-I… I’m not lying.”

His eyes sharpen, and his fists pump beside him, and when he steps closer toward the bed, I back up against the pillows because this is different. He’s different.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap. Wrong response, Cassidy.

The atmosphere intensifies in the blink of an eye.

The words between us hang in the air as he stares back at me.

He stills, and something flashes in his eyes before he straightens his shoulders.

“And you’re gonna fuckin’ tell me what it is you know.

You’re a lying little bitch, and it’s time you learned your fuckin’ lesson. ”

The callousness in his tone has a foreboding awareness running up my spine. His self-control is lost, his hatred now fully consuming him to the point of no return.

“You lied about Gavin, and you’re probably lyin’ about Alisha.”

“No!”

The veins on his neck protrude, and his eyes spark with outrage.

“You’re a liar. A fuckin’ good one, I’ll give you that!

” he bellows, and I wince at the spittle from his mouth landing on the floor, worried he’s going to wake Noah during this tirade.

Darkness consumes him—the rage in his eyes, his hate for me has finally taken over, and I fear there’s no coming back from it.

“I deserve the truth, Cassidy!” He points toward his chest. “My sister could be hurtin’.”

My body quivers. “I know. I swear I don’t know anything.”

“Liar! You’re a fuckin’ liar!”

“I’m not!”

He takes a menacing step forward.

“Please, don’t.” I shake my head, not knowing what he has in store for me, but I know that feeling of dark uncertainty and what comes with it. “Please.” My bottom lip trembles.

He grabs me from under my arms, and I fight against him, hitting his solid, bare chest with my fists, and when he dumps me on the floor, I stare up at him with confusion. Was it really that easy? Has he changed his mind?

His eyes are cold and calculated, full of malice, a deranged look that causes a tight coiling in my belly. Oh, Jesus. Urgency grips me. I need him to understand.

“Kill—”

Metal clicking in place has me darting my head to the side, and the chill of something being attached to my scarred wrist causes me to jolt.

Oh God.

No.

Please no.

Pure panic hits me, and I can’t breathe.

He’s handcuffed me to the radiator.

I move my wrist, but the sound of it clanking against the radiator sends a wave of nausea rolling through me.

No.

Not again.

Please.

“Please. No,” I cry out, taking sharp gasps of breath until my lungs feel like they’re collapsing. “Please, Killa.”

He bends down, takes my chin between his fingers, and searches my eyes with his deranged ones. “You gonna tell me where my sister is? Who’s involved?”

“I-I don’t know.” Tears cloud my vision. “I swear it.” My eyes implore him, to no avail.

A cruel smile encompasses his face before he delivers a stream of spittle onto my face, shocking me. “Then you stay here until you give me answers.” The resolve in his tone sends my heart plummeting to my feet.

He stands tall, and my eyes widen.

Oh God, no.

He’s leaving me here. Trapped.

Locked in a world of darkness.

“Killa. Please.” I rattle the handcuff against the radiator, fighting against the need to vomit.

“Please!” My cries become louder as he spins on his boots, ignoring my every word, my every plea.

“Please, don’t do this!” Every step he takes feels like he’s tearing me apart from the inside out.

“Not this. Please, not this!” I beg, and he walks out the door.

“Please, Killa.” I want to tell him I love him.

I want him to believe every word I say, but how can I?

How can I love someone so brutally cruel to me.

How?

I knew he would destroy me someday.

I just didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did the last time I felt this pain.

Have I walked out of one monster’s arms and willingly walked into the arms of another?