25. Molly
Molly
One Hour Earlier…
T he Rover’s taillights had barely disappeared when Owen wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me toward him.
I stumbled back a step, trying to move away when his other hand came to rest on my hip, pinning me to his front.
Thank god I’d slipped my phone from the front pocket of my hoodie into the Rover before Owen, or his lackey, could find it.
I’d known about the tracking app that Keir had tried to hide.
That he would use it to find me. My safety didn’t matter, though.
All that mattered was keeping Orla safe, and I had done that.
Now, I was left with the devil.
“This isn’t exactly how I pictured our first time together, kitten, but I can’t wait.” He brushed the loose tendrils of my hair away from my face, nuzzling the side of my neck. “I need to claim you. Need to taste what I’ve been dreaming about for the last nine years.”
He spun me, pressing his mouth to mine in a claiming kiss. My stomach clenched, and I resisted the urge to claw at his face. I had to be smart. I had to bide my time. Neither man had found my phone, nor the knife at my ankle. I wanted it to stay that way, because that blade was my only advantage.
So, I took the assault on my mouth like I did most things.
Enduring it. Tolerating it with the knowledge it would soon be over.
Owen gripped my jaw, squeezing the joint near my ear, forcing my mouth to open wider.
Pain speared through me as his fingers dug in, and I relented, opening to him.
His tongue licked inside, coercing me to join in, but I resisted.
With a dissatisfied grunt, he pulled back, glaring at me. “Come now, kitten. At least try.”
He kissed me again, and this time, I relaxed into the kiss a little more.
There was nothing wrong with how he kissed, but I’d grown accustomed to Keir’s mouth on mine.
To his possessive grip. I could hardly believe I’d only been in his orbit for less than a week, but when you’d experienced the things we had, it felt fitting. It felt right.
“That’s more like it, kitten. How about we go inside, and I can experience your mouth on my cock first-hand, rather than watching it on a screen.
” His mouth slipped up into a slimy smile.
“Keir put on quite a show in my father’s receiving room.
Got me fucking hard watching you submit to him.
All I could think while he was pumping into your mouth was how I wished it was my cock you were choking on.
That it was my cum you were swallowing.”
Bile burned up the back of my throat as shame colored my cheeks. He’d seen us. He’d watched. Humiliation was a point-blank shot through my chest.
Owen tugged on my arm, dragging me inside the farmhouse.
As expected, it was dark, but it wasn’t falling down around us and the rooms I caught a glimpse of were barren and dark.
He pushed me ahead of him up the stairs, and when I reached the landing on the top floor, I could see a bathroom with a separate toilet directly in front of me, and two bedrooms to my left.
Owen placed his hand between my shoulder blades and directed me to the first bedroom.
The door creaked as I pushed it open, my heart pounding against my ribcage when I saw what was inside.
“Do you like it?” he asked, curling his fingers around my hip and resting his chin on my shoulder like we were lovers, and he’d set up a romantic picnic for us to share.
But it wasn’t a picnic I was seeing. Before me stood a replica of my childhood bedroom.
The same one where Brian came for me. The same room where he took my innocence away.
Every minute detail was captured, from the pale pink bedspread with white flowers to the dresser with my hairbrush and hair ties.
The metallic damask wallpaper and orange shag carpet had the same worn patches as my old bedroom.
He had a small desk with a notebook and colored markers, and the same straight-backed chair my mother had picked off the street one garbage collection day.
It had blue flowers painted on it; she’d said they’d reminded her of my eyes.
It had been, perhaps, the only thoughtful thing she’d done for me after my father had died.
My muscles froze as I took it all in, my gaze finally stopping on the bloody baseball bat propped against my nightstand. Owen’s fingers tightened and his erection prodded my ass as we stared at the eerie memento. He let out a soft moan, flexing his hips against me.
“Look familiar, kitten? I got it back for you.”
“The bat?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.
He hummed. “My dad has the Garda Commissioner in his pocket, and I had some dirt about his affair with a hooker.”
Blood pounded in my ears, the frenetic pulse making it hard to focus. “You stole it from evidence?”
He smirked. “I removed all record of your crime. For you, kitten.” He rounded my body, and my eyes dipped to his obscene erection before jumping back to his face. “I’ve fantasized about fucking you in here, but there’s another room I want you to see first.”
He left, almost giddily high, while I stayed behind, unable to believe what I saw.
The detail with which he managed to replicate my life was beyond what I thought was possible.
Had he studied the photos from the investigation?
I had no doubt the Garda had cataloged everything in the house.
But I had a feeling I knew what else he had replicated, and the more I fawned over it, the longer it would be before he finally did something with his raging hard on for me and my murderous past.
I found Owen in the other bedroom, and just as I suspected, he’d reconstructed Orla’s room from nine years ago.
Her room had mirrored mine, except there was no desk and chair.
In its place was a toy chest overflowing with stuffed animals and dolls.
All second-hand from the charity shop, of course, but overflowing all the same.
The same shag carpeting. The same style of bed and lamp on her nightstand.
Owen truly was a psychopath.
“What happened that night, kitten?” he asked, sitting on the edge of Orla’s bed. “I’ve wanted to know for years. The report your sister and mother gave was an obvious lie.”
My gaze darted from the floor to his face. “Why do you want to know?”
He rearranged his erection, which pressed hard against the inside of his slacks.
“Because I’ve jerked myself off to the crime scene photos since I was sixteen years old, knowing it was you who had done that to another human being.
The savagery. The intent to kill. You’re my fucking equal, Caitria.
The only woman whose darkness matches my own. ”
I wanted to correct him, to explain I wasn’t evil, or filled with darkness and rage. I’d simply been a victim who helped another victim. Murder had been the last resort.
“Was it premeditated? Did you go in there that night intending to end his life? To watch the light drain from his eyes? The report said you bashed his head in so thoroughly his eyes popped from their sockets. It said his hands had been—and these were the words of the coroner— pulverized . But to cut off his dick and leave it on the opposite side of the room, that was…” He kissed his fingertips like a chef. “ Perfecto. ”
Having my past actions laid out to me was making my brain shudder and my stomach revolt.
Yes, I’d done those things.
I remembered beating in his skull. Pounding his hands into nothing but splintered bone, but only so he’d never be able to touch me or Orla again.
I remembered taking out his flaccid cock and slicing it away from his body, marveling at how easy it had been to remove.
How Brian had used it as a weapon against me, yet in the end, it was nothing by flesh and blood … like him.
I also remembered forcing myself not to be sick all over the bedroom floor, as the smell of his blood and bowels filled those four walls and soaked into the wallpaper.
“What do you want from me?” My voice was now a hoarse whisper, breaking under the blood-soaked history of my past.
“I’ve already told you what I want. You.
I want you with me, and together we will rule a new clan.
I will make you my wife, so it will be impossible for anyone to touch you.
We will dispose of my enemies together, and when we’re done, we can fuck in pools of their blood.
I can fill your belly with a child who will have the same taste for anarchy and blood. ”
Breathing through my mouth, I swallowed convulsively over the burning lump of bile that burned the back of my throat. Wrapping my arms around myself, I whispered, “I’m not who you think I am. I’m not that person. Not deep down.”
He waved away my concerns, stalking toward me with a gleam in his eye that made my body shake. I flinched as he raised a hand and placed it against my chest, his eyes closing in rapture as he felt my thrashing heart.
Humming, he replied, “I know who you are, kitten. I’m perhaps the only person who knows.”
He was wrong. Keir knew who I was. He knew, and he didn’t flinch. Didn’t falter. Didn’t break. We both hid our darkness behind a mask, but at least we were honest with ourselves. Owen couldn’t see his insanity. Couldn’t see the twisted darkness in his obsessions and proclivities.
He leaned in, brushing his mouth against mine almost gently.
I kept my body still, my mouth passive as I let him take what he wanted.
Walking this line of compliance was the only way I was going to get out of this alive.
When it became clear that I was a not-so-enthusiastic participant, Owen growled and wrapped his hand around my throat.
“Kiss me properly.” His fingers tightened, restricting the airflow into my lungs, but still my mouth remained apathetic to his advances. With an aggravated snarl, he pulled away and shoved me to my knees.
Holding my jaw with one hand, he seethed, “Won’t take my mouth?
Fine, you can choke on my dick.” Fumbling one-handed with the fastenings on his slacks, he got the button undone and shoved down the zipper, then his briefs.
His cock was engorged, the crown purple and already weeping clear fluid.
He fisted himself, pumping his palm from bottom to top almost angrily.
I pressed my lips together to stop this from happening. Trying to control some part of this situation. With a feral look in his eye, he pressed closer, tapping the head of his cock against my mouth.
“Open for me, Caitria.”
I glared at him while I silently shouted that sucking his cock wasn’t on the agenda.
His frustration was building. One of his eyes twitched in irritation as his fingers dug deeper into my jaw. Pain exploded through my skull, making my eyes water and ears ring. He dug in a little deeper until the pain suddenly became too much and my mouth sprung open just to find some relief.
Owen’s lips widened in a triumphant smile, his eyes darkening. “That’s it, kitten. Submit to me and I will give you the wor?—”
His phone rung, the shrill peal shattering whatever spell he had been under.
He released my jaw and pulled the device from his trouser pocket.
“This had better be fucking good,” he snarled.
His face changed from irate to delighted in a heartbeat, his cold eyes fixing on me.
“I’ll get her set up. Let’s get this motherfucking war started. ”
“No!” I screamed as Owen pulled out a gun from the small of his back. I could only watch on helplessly as he raised his hand and slammed the grip against the side of my head.