Chapter 20 #3
Bennett repeats the words like a puppet, his face twisted from pain.
And I watch with an open mouth as Achilles makes him say anything he wants, losing his mind over a bruise.
Bennett, a man who used to scare me, who always hated me and went along with Chase's bullying, becomes nothing but a ragdoll repeating that his situation is what happens when someone messes with me.
When he's done, Achilles takes a selfie with Bennett, smiling brightly in it.
"That's really just to show you how invincible I am," he tells Bennett. "I'll put my face on the picture of the crime. You won't be able to see it, but I promise you nothing’s going to happen to me."
"Cheese!" he exclaims as Bennett wails some more. He pulls away again. "I bet you have a lot of numbers on here. Mostly to North Shore friends, huh? Let's just send it to everyone."
His breezy tone is really the most terrifying thing about all this.
"My mom," he cries. "Please, my mom…"
Achilles turns to me. "Has he still got both parents?"
I nod mindlessly.
"A bad day in the Bennett family, am I right? If only you hadn't hurt Nyx." He shakes his head, pretending like he doesn't have a choice. "But anyway." He taps on the phone. "All done."
Throwing the phone to the floor, he faces Bennett.
"Lesson learned?" he asks him.
Bennett nods. "Yes. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Nyx. Please, let me go. Let me go." He bursts into sobs again. "Please, please, please. I learned my lesson."
"I'm glad," Achilles answers.
The movement is swift, violent, unstoppable. The knife slices through Bennett’s throat, opening it widely as blood flows out.
My scream must resonate over the whole town as I turn away, hiding my eyes with both hands.
"Oh my God!" I shriek. "Oh my God. Oh my God."
I scream again when a hand gently touches the back of my head.
"God would have had mercy, mon trésor. I don't."
His hands are covered in blood as he forces mine away from my face.
"Protecting you makes me hard."
I shake my head, taking a step back.
"Are you scared?" he asks, voice low, following my retreating steps.
There's no point in lying. A dead man is hanging upside down less than ten feet away from me. I'm fucking terrified.
I nod, blinking away tears, and I don't get to take another step as two hands clamp around my waist.
He tsks, his predatory smile spreading. "You're not escaping this."
"There's no this. Nothing’s going to happen."
"I'm going to fuck you while you look at the consequences of someone hurting you.
That's what's going to happen. And you, my beautiful girl"—he pulls me up violently, forcing me to face Bennett over his shoulder as I wrap my legs around his waist for balance"—are going to come hard on my dick because that's what you do when I use you. "
"I swear to God, if you touch me—" My sentence dies in a squeak when the same blade that just killed Bennett presses against my throat as he walks us. My back hits a wall, and a grunt escapes me.
"Fuck you."
He chuckles. "The next words I want to hear from you are please, let me come. Then maybe I'll fuck you."
His free hand undoes my jeans and disappears beneath my underwear, his fingers playing with my clit as he keeps talking.
"I need you here at my mercy. I need you scared, turned on, and to let me explore all the emotions in between."
I lose the rhythm of my breathing as pleasure overwhelms me, and just like he does so well, he adds fear to the mix. The knife presses against my throat again as he starts pushing his fingers inside me.
"You know I need your moans and those little whimpers you make when you beg."
Pressure pushes pleasure out of my chest, making me pant.
"I'm selfish, and I'm going to use you for everything you have to give."
I moan shamelessly when he curves his fingers inside me. I have no survival instincts, no way or reason to resist him. Achilles might be the one constantly fucking me, but I'm the one who fucks myself over every time I come back for more.
"Achilles," I panic, about to bring my hands to the knife.
His lethal gaze stops me as it sears into mine. "You're going to be okay."
Going to? I'm not fucking okay right now.
"I can't do this," I pant as he pins me harder against the wall. I'm stuck, and my anxiety doubles when I feel him lower his jeans in one aggressive movement.
"I can't," I cry out. "Please, the knife…"
He rips a condom wrapper open with his teeth.
"I know you're scared, baby. I'm going to make it better." I feel him shift, rolling the rubber on with one hand.
"I can’t do this with you anymore. This…this game—Ah!" Pleasure overwhelms me when his fingers push inside me again.
"That's it," he purrs as he thrusts them in and out, slowly stroking me into calming down.
"Achilles," I whimper. "Please…"
"Please, what?" His fingers disappear, and they press against my clit instead, making me so aware of the wetness coating them. "Please take the knife away? Please be nicer to you? Please keep fucking you until you come all over my fingers?"
My legs tighten around his waist as he pushes inside me again.
"I can't hear you, mon trésor."
"Fuck you," I rage through another moan. "You manipulative fuck… Fuck me."
His voice is a little closer to my right ear when he says. "But aren't you scared?"
The mix of my heart racing from the fear and my breath stuttering from the pleasure is messing with my mind. My arms are wrapped around his neck, the thrill of the knife making me push against his palm, seeking more.
He stays silent while he keeps fucking me, and it enhances the fear. His hand skillfully shoves my panties to the side. The tip of his dick is next, rubbing through my arousal. And then the knife presses slightly harder. My pulse kicks, the fear of dying strong and undeniable.
"Achilles," I whimper once more. "I'm scared."
With one hand still holding the knife, he guides himself inside me.
"Please," I squeak, contracting around him.
He pulls out before the tip is past my entrance and presses back in.
"Oh God," I moan, but my chest is ripping apart, and I'm dying to be reminded that he's not going to hurt me. "Please, take the knife away."
He repeats the process, barely breaching before pulling back. Countless times. He drives me crazy, letting me get lost between my anxious thoughts and destructive lust.
And then he freezes. The tension shifts. It doesn't take away my desperation. The one to hear his pants, the one to feel him. I want everything. He could destroy my entire being, and I would ask for more. And still…still, I can't get past the terror within me.
"Please," I pant. "I'm scared. Take it away."
He pushes me harder against the wall.
"It's the blunt side of the blade, baby," he rasps in my ear before thrusting inside me.
I tighten around him, feeling like I've been waiting for it my entire life. The fear evaporates completely, his assurance fixing all my wounds, and I feel my body finally letting go. Sparks electrify my skin, my stomach liquifies, and I lose my senses as the whole world disappears.
All that’s left is the pure pleasure of Achilles coming in and out of me.
"Come for me, mon trésor," he murmurs so subtly I almost miss it.
My body doesn't miss it. I detonate like a bomb he lit up, and my entire being trembles as he accelerates his thrusts, taking everything I have to give until he explodes with a deep grunt.
And when my vision returns and he lets go of my wrists, I don't even remember what I was scared of in the first place.
The car rolls to a stop after a long drive through the woods. Achilles reaches for a small remote in the middle console and opens the gate in front of us.
The second we drove away from the North Shore, he only said one thing.
"I hope you feel safe now."
And I only replied with, "I do."
I'm not sure why knowing he murdered people scares me less than anything else he's done.
That's for the bruise on her arm.
That's for the bruise on her arm.
That's for the bruise on her arm.
My gaze flicks down to the blue skin.
"It's just a bruise," I murmur.
"And now word is going to spread on your side of town as to what happens when there's just a bruise on you."
He's not worried in the slightest about consequences. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the mark he carved into Bennett before we left the warehouse. It was some kind of small circle on his arm.
"What about your side of town?" I rasp.
He smiles. It's genuine, and those are the kind of smiles that make my heart skip a beat. They make me melt for him, and I forget about the craziness that's always lingering in his eyes.
"Baby, my side of town knows not to cross me. It's only on the North Shore that people underestimated me."
I look at the house that appears in front of us, my eyes widening as we get closer.
"What the fuck is this?" I ask the second he stops on the curved gravel driveway.
We're surrounded by trees, but the sound of water delicately washing over the shore can be heard somewhere around. We drove through Stoneview, so I have no doubt that it's Stoneview Lake I hear behind the trees.
"My lake house."
He jumps out of the car and hurries to open my door for me, helping me out.
"This can't be real," I declare as I gaze up at the huge place.
It's covered in dark cladding that fits in perfectly with the forest surrounding it, and the gables on the second story give it a traditional look that invites coziness.
For a second, I catch myself imagining what it could be like living my life here with my family.
Taking my kids to the lake, cooking in a huge kitchen, spending Sundays with my husband walking through the forest or lounging on the sofa.
It looks like such a beautiful place for a home.
For the kind of family I never had growing up.
Achilles guides me to a dark wooden entrance and shakes his head as we walk in.
"Why do you sound more surprised by this house than Bennett’s fate?"
I shrug. "Maybe I've seen more crimes than beautiful houses in my life. Ever thought of that?"
My statement, no matter that I’d never witnessed something like what he did today, doesn't stop him in his tracks. There's no shocking Achilles. Since we met, he's taken me as I am, and he doesn't seem to care.
"Get comfortable," he says as we enter the living room.
It has the kind of view of Stoneview Lake that you can't get anywhere else.
On our side, the lakeshore isn't developed.
We jump from cliffs in the summer and climb back out however we can.
There's one pebble beach, but it's never safe enough to go to.
The people who hang out there in the summer were always part of something shady, and I avoided the area.
But here, every lake house has a personal wooden pier for their boat. And they all have small-pebble beaches.
"Fucking ridiculous," I mumble without being able to hide the excitement in my voice.
I'm so taken by the view from the living room bay windows that I don't notice Achilles is gone until the front door shuts and he comes back with a sports bag filled to the brim.
"You've known luxury for way too long," I tease. "We should switch."
"Yeah, I have." He drops the bag on the sofa and comes my way. "But we're not switching. You're just joining me."
"Sure," I snort. "I'm homeless anyway."
Hands on my hips, he turns me around to face him. "I'm not joking. No one uses this place. I want you to have it."
"But—"
"It's not a question. It's not a suggestion. And since I know you hate people doing things for you, here's our transaction: You're going to rehearse here. With me. Every day, you'll spend time training so you can become the best goddamn violinist at SFU."
"That's no payment, Achilles. That's you giving me something else. Do you know how many people dream of being trained by you?"
A smirk pulls at his beautiful mouth. "Oh, if you knew the kind of training I'd like to offer you, mon trésor."
I pull away, going past him to check the bag on the couch, so he doesn’t catch the lust his words trigger.
"I'm not only doing this for you," he calls out. "You didn't let me finish."
Opening the bag, I recognize two SFU uniforms folded in there.
"You're going to help me finish my concerto, Nyx," he explains as he approaches me again, but from the rasp in his voice, I know he doesn't mean professional or technical help.
I take the uniforms out of the bag, trying to keep busy so I don't look up at him.
"I can't help you with that."
Achilles thinks of me as his muse, but there’s something inside me that knows it can’t be true. The new toy effect will run out soon, and then who knows what will happen to me? To my heart?
"You already did, and you know it." His lips press against the side of my neck. "You know how I get inspired."
His arms wrap around my waist from the back.
"I write my best work when I have my muse around. Do you really think I'm doing this for you? I’m selfish, don’t you know that by now?"
I don’t say anything, forcing myself to stay still so I don’t melt into his embrace.
"So? Do you take my offer?"
"Do I have a choice?" I throw back.
"No, but it was fun pretending you did." He turns me around, drops a kiss on my lips, and says, "Now let’s get in the shower. We’re covered in blood."