Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Stone
Without warning, I throw open the office door and aim my gun at the pretty blonde whose ass was about to move off her chair. Her startled eyes fill with horror, and I grin with triumph.
“Tape her to the chair!” I throw the tape at Jeremy, and the fuckwit almost drops it as wide eyes meet my gaze. His mouth opens to protest, but I shake my head, and he snaps it shut.
Slowly, his Adam’s apple works down his throat, and he moves toward the woman while I take in the piece of shit.
I’m nothing like him. He’s polished, perfect, and clearly a businessman. The aura of his being oozes from him in slick waves.
Right now, I bet he wishes he was me—the one in control, the demon in the dark reaping havoc on their perfected lives. The grim reaper vindicating his own self.
Betrayal and manipulation are at the forefront of my mind as Jeremy’s hands shake while he tapes the woman to the chair.
She sniffles, and tears spring from her eyes, but I ignore her and keep my eye on the prick.
I hadn’t expected to have a spectator, but it does nothing to curb the growing anticipation of his downfall.
When he finally finishes, he turns to face me and stands to his full height, a mere five-seven compared to my giant self, and I smirk when he broadens his shoulders.
“Do you want money? Is that it?”
“No.”
“The cars? You can take them. All of them.” My eyebrows furrow. Why the fuck would I want his cars when he holds something much more precious close to him?
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
I lick my lips slowly. “Her.”
Fear blanches his now-pale face. He glances over his shoulder toward the woman strapped to the chair. Before his eyes settle back on me, I slam a fist into his face, knocking him off his feet. Her scream ricochets off the walls, and the high pitch of it makes my head throb, which makes me respond more brutally to drone out the sound of her pleas.
I throw myself on top of him and deliver blow after blow, and blood coats my fist as he attempts to push me away. I yank his arm from its socket, and the howl of pain vibrating from him fills my bloodstream with victory.
“That’s for touching what’s mine, motherfucker.”
“Ple—” His voice is muffled as I slam my fist into him again and again. He pathetically attempts to push me away, and when I learn the screams are also Sienna’s, it only heightens my cause for retribution.
“Stone. Stop. Please.”
Slam.
“I’m begging you.”
Slam.
She’s crying for him.
Slam.
“You don’t understand.”
Pleading for him.
Slam.
“You’re going to kill him!”
I lift my fist again, and his unmoving body becomes the target for my raw anger, as to dispel my hurt on someone other than her.
“Keenan. Stop!”
Ice freezes my veins and stills my movement.
The foreign sound of my birth name on her lips is a testament to her traitorous actions. A sneer slides from my lips as I slice my gaze toward her.
She stands there with the loose tape in her hand and tears streaming down her face. “You don’t understand. Let me make you understand.” It comes out as a plea, one I’m not ready for. Her betrayal has gone too far.
Just what the fuck does she know?
Did she know all along we weren’t related?
Was this all a part of an elaborate act to control me?
Manipulate and degrade me?
“He doesn’t love me. He never did,” she whispers, and I cast my eyes down to the piece of shit beneath me. “He loves her.” She tilts her head toward the woman in the chair. “I married him because he loves her.” Her eyes implore mine to understand. “It was an act, Stone. It was all an act.”
“All an act,” I repeat almost robotically, but she doesn’t miss the undertone of my words.
Shaking her head, she swipes away the fresh tears flowing down her pretty little face. So perfect yet so messy, and the sight of her has my cock stirring. “Not that. Never that.” She clutches at her heart as if it pains her to say it. “It’s only ever been you.” I shake my head, refusing to believe her. Why the fuck would I when she’s lied so much? When they’ve all lied so fucking much. My hands find my head, and I clutch it as pain surges through me.
“H-he loves her, S-Stone.” Her chest heaves. “He only ever wanted her, and I only ever wanted you.” Snapping my eyes open, I take in the beauty of her standing in the doorway, so disheveled, but never has she looked so free, as if admitting her truth has finally redeemed her from her lies.
Well, good for her, but what about me?
Anger flares inside me so strong the pain in my head feels catalytic.
What about the lies, the deceit?
She let me live through hell, knowing I was never out of reach. That the thoughts twisting inside my gut were not so disgusting after all. I wasn’t a monster.
What about the torture, the trauma, the depths of hell I’ve been through?
The burns on my body feel as fresh as ever, like someone is pouring salt into those open wounds once again. Her compliance in this, her utter betrayal, feels like my heart that only beat for her has been torn from inside me, ravished so brutally that my vision blurs and my body trembles. “You lied to me.”
Her face pales.
“You lied to me!” I bellow louder.
All this time, I had a family; I had a life; I had hope, and she stood by and allowed me to be a prisoner for their cruel needs. They distorted my outlook on life and left me with nothing. Now I don’t even have her.
How can I?
I stumble forward, falling to my knees, unable to control the pain searing through my body like wildfire.
Her soft hands try to pull my hands from my head, and when I let them fall at my side, I stare back into her emerald eyes, the ones I love, the very same ones that betrayed.
As I grip her throat, not an ounce of fear crosses her face, then I shove her away, and she falls in a heap on the floor. The bastard husband’s blood coats her hands and nightdress, and fury rises through my body like a blazing inferno.
She scoots back, as if sensing my unraveling, and slides in the blood.
“Turn around.” My voice comes out calm and collected, but inside, I’m anything but. She must see the meaning behind my words because her mouth opens, then closes like a fish before she spins onto all fours, practically presenting herself to me. Her body trembles as I unbuckle my pants once again, and my steel cock aches to fill her and bathe her in the treacherous blood as I fill her with my child.
“Beg me to fuck my baby into you,” I growl when I line up my cock, her pussy still gleaming from earlier as she gasps at the realization of my intentions.
“Please,” she whispers.
I snap my hips forward, and she slips in his blood and falls onto her stomach, then I pin her down at the hips, holding her in place as I mount her like a wild animal.
Harder.
I work my hips.
Deeper.
I surge inside her.
Faster.
“Fuck, yes. So beautiful covered in your husband’s blood while your brother fills you with his baby,” I grunt between savage thrusts.
Her moans and the slapping of our skin ring out in my ears as I delight in knowing I have an audience. I lock eyes with the blonde, who stares back at me in disgust. “She loves her brother fucking her.” I grin manically in satisfaction. “I’m filling this cunt with my baby. She’s mine.”
Sienna groans beneath me, and pleasure shoots up my spine. She was made for me.
“Mine!” I roar as my cum shoots spectacularly inside her, coating her womb with my seed.
Slowly, I slide out of Sienna and tuck my cock away, then I casually zip up my pants, as if I didn’t just fuck her ruthlessly and cover her in his demise in the process.
She rolls over to face me, and I try to ignore the guilt that churns in my stomach at the hurt in her eyes, but it freezes me in place, and I’m unable to look away.
My phone buzzes, somehow becoming my anchor in this nightmare, as the tension hangs heavily in the room.
Time is running out. I need to decide what to do, and with that thought in mind, I ignore the turmoil swirling inside me and cast a glance at the tear-streaked woman strapped to the chair. Then down at a blood-soaked Jeremy. He still has a chance to live, they still have a chance, and so do we.
It takes every ounce of strength inside me to swallow back my need for retribution, so I push up off the floor and stomp toward the blonde with a renewed vigor. Then, using my knife, I cut the tape, freeing her hands from the chair, and nod toward the phone on the desk. “Call for help as soon as we leave.” Her eyes widen and her lip wobbles as relief floods her face.
“We’re leaving,” I snap in Sienna’s direction, barely giving her a second glance as she stumbles to her feet.
“What? We can’t,” she begins her protests, and my fists tighten as I side-eye her, unwilling to give her my full attention.
She says she didn’t have a choice, but she chose this one. She let me believe we didn’t have a future despite promising it to me, then chose her freedom as I remained captive.
She had a choice, and she chose this.
If she thinks she didn’t have a choice before, she’s about to discover she doesn’t have one now either.