The Death of Us

25. BUNNY

Without Susie, Cade and I would have had to stand between the dark, cold trees in nothing but a robe and dirty, bloody clothes. She was kind enough to hand us boxes of personal items left for the lost and found. There wasn’t much for us to use, mainly little trinkets like glasses, toys…some jewelry. Of those, Cade took a broken watch.

“I’ve always wanted one,” he said, studying the cracked glass.

I plucked out a discolored vintage ring, immediately falling in love with the oval, yellow diamond. It fit perfectly, too, as did some of the clothes left behind.

“Will you stop? They look fine,” I laugh, watching him under the moonlight fidgeting in the fitted slacks. I want to tell him that he looks better than fine—that he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, the way his curls fall across his forehead, how the fabric of this stranger”s white, buttoned shirt hugs his sculpted frame.

Cade is a classic image brought to life, even with the scars, blood, and bruises.

I, on the other hand, am dressed skimpier than I would like. The tight, black dress barely hits the middle of my thighs, with a low, swooped neckline that makes my tits appear bigger than they are. The sleeves are long. It’s the only thing making me feel less of a whore.

I swore I’d never feel like one again…

I’d never let a man make me one again.

Especially this one.

Cade and I peer through the dense forest, watching through the window as Lakens, whose name I learned is Jefferey, makes sweet, tender love to his new bride while a child watches television in another room.

Somehow, the revelation of a child makes my fury burn brighter. In a flash, I replay all he did to me and then think of him coming home to a little girl. The idea of him anywhere near her just…fuck.

Bile trickles up my throat as I force myself to remain still. From my location, I drift back to him, eyeing as his hands cascade across his wife’s pretty brown skin. Those same fingers tore through every one of my holes, ripping them open, sometimes so wide, I heard my flesh tearing. I still feel the wounds attempting to heal, but the memory keeps them alive.

While we wait, I share some of my stories with Cade, like the first night I met Lakens and every injury he inflicted on me. More importantly, I explain how he was the cop who turned me over. He was the reason I was locked in that cell after successfully escaping.

I didn’t need to go into any detail for Cade to be on my side. I know he wants to gut these fuckers, too, but listening to my history only fuels the flames. Now, I can barely hold him back from storming that cabin.

“Not yet,” I whisper, rolling my thumb over the throbbing vein in his wrist. I say it every hour until the little cabin goes dark, until the child fixed in front of the television goes to bed—until he sleeps peacefully in his wife’s arms.

Then I set Cade free, and he goes quietly, with my hand tucked in his.

We barely make a sound when walking over fallen leaves, speaking only with our eyes as we approach the screened front door. Taking the blade out of his back pocket, Cade creates a slit in the thin wire mesh.

We hold our breath as he flips up the lock, slowly pulling open the frame to prevent squeaking. Once it’s cracked enough for me to slip through, he beckons me forward, following closely.

I take the lead, knowing Cade will follow, and find myself in the small room of an even smaller child. She can’t be more than five, I think to myself, gazing at her soft, sleeping face. Five years old with a monster for a father.

As if she knows monsters will catch her in the dark, her eyes spring open, wide and frozen with fear. Swiftly, I hold my finger to my lips.

“We’re not going to hurt you. I promise.”

Her eyes bounce between Cade and me while her breathing hastens. “Are you here for the bad man?” she asks, her voice tiny and frightened.

“Yes,” Cade responds, dropping to his knees beside her bed. “We’re gonna make the bad man go away because he hurt her.”

The little girl inhales a horrified gasp. Her big brown eyes snapping to me. “He hurts me, too.”

I get down beside Cade and take her hand in the darkness. “I’m going to make sure he never hurts you again. Would you like that?”

Yes, she nods, her entire body shaking

“What’s your name?”

“S-Sophie,” she whispers, as her bottom lip quivers with unshed tears.

“Sophie,” I utter gently, brushing away the moisture from her lashes with the tip of my finger. “We’re going to stop the bad man, but I need you to do something for us, okay?”

“O-Okay…”

Pointing to the closet on the other wall of the room, I explain, “I need you to take your pillow and blanket and go hide in there. Okay? And no matter what you hear, you don’t come out. Just put the pillow over your head…and go to sleep. Can you do that for us, Sophie? Can you be brave for us?”

Children are far brighter than people give them credit for. They can pick up on cues, understand emotion, and when something is wrong, they know better. I can see it in the way she watches us. She knows something terrible is going to happen to the man in the next room. Still, she takes that little pink pillow, her fluffy fleece blanket, and stuffed Winnie the Pooh doll and drags it off the bed, stepping into the closet anyway, giving us a final glance before softly shutting the door.

Cade and I wait on our knees momentarily, gazing at that closet door with that poor little girl who trusts us to save her, frightened, but tucked safely behind it.

“She can barely fucking talk.” He says it so calmly, but barely suppressed rage hides beneath the surface while we watch the closet door. I listen to his unspoken words as they vibrate off the edge of his teeth. He wants his head on a spike. We share the same sentiment. The question is, who gets to do the honors?

Cade rises first, holding his hand out for me like a gentleman to escort me to our murder. Our fingers curl the second they touch, intertwined and steady. There was never any doubt as to what we had to do. From the moment I brought up seeking revenge, Cade was on board, and then right before, just for a second, as one morning turned to two and the day became night, we doubted if it was worth the risk.

“We could just leave. Go back home and pretend it never happened.”

“You know we can’t do that. They know where we live… They know who we love. They’re as dead as we are if we go back home.”

I sat on our motel room floor, going over the plan we were ready to set into motion for the hundredth time. Cade knows I’m right. If I return for Missy now, she’s as good as dead or worse. She’ll end up like me.

“We could leave, Bun. Together.” His offer is quiet, almost mute, filled with as much need as I harbor on the inside. I contemplate it for a moment, succumbing to the desire. It’s been a thought, a constant one in my mind.

It could be him and me, just the two of us…anywhere in the world. Marone would never find us, and we could be happy. At least we could try. But then I know I’d never be satisfied hiding. I’d never feel safe. I explain so much with tears ready to fall.

Sitting on the mattress above me, Cade wraps his hands under my chin, angling my head back to face him. “We will do that,” he vows, sincerity etched into his furious gaze. “One day, we will go anywhere you want us to, but we’re going to kill these fuckers first, Bun. I’m going to fucking murder them for me, and I’m going to murder them for you.”

Watching the closet door, I know he adds one more person to that list.

Sophie.

We’re going to kill him for you, Sophie.

And for Clara.

And for all the other girls whose names I never learned.

Cade enters the bedroom first, carefully stepping over the discarded clothes and sex toys scattered on the ground. He releases my hand to approach Lakens’s sleeping form, knife clenched in his grip.

Before we made the journey to his cabin, I asked if we should’ve brought the gun, but he refused immediately. “It”s too loud. We’d be caught before we have the chance to find the next one.” He was right, but now I’m empty-handed.

“Hey,” Cade hushes, flicking his wrist to draw my attention. When he has it, he tosses me something from beside the bed—a long metal club with a gripped handle.

I watched my neighbor, an old, 70-year-old Mr. Hills, get beaten with a billy stick before by a racist fuck who had been harassing him since he moved in. One day, during a particularly brutal and bloody lashing, I guess Mr. Hills just had enough. He was able to get his hands on that baton and, with one good swing, break it against the racist bastard”s temple.

I ran outside, bat in my hand, ready to help fight him off, when the crack of his skull stopped me in the street. People came out of their homes to watch as blood caked the sidewalk, and all I could do was squeal. I cheered for Mr. Hills. I was so proud of him.

I wonder if I could make him proud now.

As I bring the club over my shoulder, Cade moves out of my way, a smile taking over his shadowed face when I swing it down. Unlike Mr. Hills, I didn’t crack his skull open. I didn’t cake the bed in blood, but his shrieking yelp of pain is enough.

For right now, at least.

Mmmm, never mind.

Swinging a second time, I bring the club down on Lakens’s head. I miss his temple by a few inches, but the split across his forehead makes up for it. To quiet his screaming, I take the blunt end of the stick and ram it into his stomach, stealing his breath as he liked to steal mine.

“How does that feel?”

Cade pulls on the lamp string, illuminating the room. The soft glow brings a pleasantness to the room. What a nice touch for what we’re about to do.

Lakens’s wife, a pretty, whimsical-looking woman, flings out of bed, ready to race out the door, but Cade is too fast for her. He grabs hold of her as she rounds the bedframe, holding on firm to her kicking form until he can toss her back beside her man.

“We don’t have anything for you! Leave!” She scurries on her side to check on Lakens, worry, fear, and rage seeping from the glare she casts in our directions. I can see her torn. Where to look first? At the woman twirling a baton, the same baton that was used to beat her husband awake? Or the man flashing a blade, eager to use it?

She chooses Cade. So, I force her to look at me.

“You’re wrong. You have exactly what I need.”

“W-What?” her husband stutters, pain making him stupid. “What do you—” He doesn’t bother finishing his question. The recognition is enough.

“How the fuck did you get here? Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Shhh,” I hiss, poking his cheek with the club. “I don’t want to fucking hear you.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?!” his wife screams, that rage coming out a little stronger than her fear. That’s fine with me. I don’t need her scared.

I do need her to know the truth, though. Every woman deserves to know the man they’re married to. “I want your husband. I want him to feel what I did.” Pressing the end harder into his teeth, I continue. “I want to pay him back for all he gave me.”

“Fuck you!” he snarls around the club, but his wife is confused.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, leaning into him as if he’s the hero. He isn’t, and I am more than happy to explain why.

I can feel Cade’s support from across the room. It’s grounding, and though I feel nothing but shame and disgust for myself, it makes it easier to choke out the words. “Your husband raped me five times. All in the same night. The night of your wedding.”

She doesn’t even look at him before she calls me a liar. If she had, she’d see the truth plastered across his smug smirk.

“You got the wrong house because he was here with me. Making love to me.”

“Oh, he was? Because I remember him in my bed…forcing my face into the sheets while he shoved his rancid cock into myass! I remember crying! Begging him to stop, but he kept going! Over and over and over again until he had enough and decided it was time to go home to his newbride! So I guess you’re right.” I pause, needing to catch my breath. “He was here with you after he was done with me.” I leave out some details, like how he fucked me raw and came in every hole I have…but some things women don’t need to know.

Cade doesn’t need to know either…

Even after all that, this bitch still has the nerve to call me a liar.

“Yeah? Ask him,” I dare her, but Lakens’s grin tells me she won’t. The redness rising in her cheeks tells me she won’t. Everyone in this fucking room knows she won’t muster up the courage to ask him because what kind of wife wants to know the absolute truth about their husband?

Well, she may not want it, but I’m going to make damn sure she has it anyway. “Tell her.”

Lakens just looks at me, blood trickling from his forehead across the bridge of his nose, letting the deep maroon cascade over his pearly white teeth.

He just looks at me…and I fucking lose it.

“Tell her the truth!” I swing the baton around my body, smashing the tip into his bent kneecap. The shattering is heard across the room. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sophie heard it from her closet. The good girl doesn’t come out, though, not when his cries begin shaking the window or when her momma pleads for me to stop. She’s smart enough to stay and hide. A little survivor, that one.

His screams turn into soundless cries as he curls up to cradle his leg. “What a fucking baby. All I did was hit you in the knee,” I sneer, gearing up to do it again. “Tell her what you did to me. How you liked to curl your fingers under the little bones in my neck because you said the feeling of my racing pulse made you come harder.”

Gulp. “Tell her how you’d squeeze my throat so hard you’d feel tiny pops against your palm. How you liked to paint my body with the blood you took from my lips. Tell her how I begged you to help me…and all you did was kiss me and tell me how good you’d be to me next time. Tell her. Tell her… Fucking tellher!”

The squelch of his flesh as his hand busts on impact sends the wife careening to the right, vomiting on the beige carpet. Cade casually steps out of the way, a look of disinterest and disgust twisting his lips.

Lakens takes a second out of his shrieking to check on his wife, noticing Cade standing in the corner for the first time. “Who the fuck is this?”

Cade doesn’t pacify him with a response. He doesn’t even look at him as he twirls the knife between his fingers. Lakens doesn’t take too well to the ignorance. So, he does what weak men do best.

He attacks me.

“Awww. You got yourself a little boyfriend? How’d you find the time in the middle of taking dicks and whippings?”

He wanted a reaction. Well, he fucking got it.

His mocking throws Cade over the edge. With motions as quick as lightning, Cade flips Lakens’s wife over the bed, dragging her up onto her feet, and presses the blade into her hammering pulse. Blood pours instantly, and both their wails rise. Cade uses his other hand to cover her open mouth, muffling her. “Tell her, or I’ll slice her from ear to ear.”

“You don’t have the fucking balls!”

Oh. Well…that was the wrong thing to say.

With a tilted smile, Cade begins drawing the blunt edge to the left, squeezing her thrashing form tightly to his chest. Her wails turn to thundering howls that can be heard clearly past his palm. It must be the vicious downpour of blood that has Lakens acting like a good man—a caring, loving husband.

Being raised in an abusive system heightened every instinct I have. It was muffled in that fucking dungeon, snuffed out by fear. But I’m not scared now, and when I see Lakens stumble out of bed, ready to charge at Cade with balled fists, I swing with all the vengeance left in me.

Dead fucking shot, I whack Lakens in the softest spot of his temple. I can feel the ghost of Mr. Hills”s smile. I know he’d be proud of that one and all the ones that follow because I don’t stop. I hit, and I swing, and I crush his baton against every bone I can find until he’s screaming, writhing, and crying just as I was!

The temperature in the room becomes too hot, sucking all the oxygen from my lungs. I can barely carry the club by the time I stand straight. Hair sticking to the sweat beading across my forehead, I glare down at the blood, and the bones, and the teeth, tired of his fucking bullshit.

“Tell her.”

Wheezing through a broken jaw, Lakens angles his head to find his wife, panic and remorse mixing in his bloody stare. “I di-did it. I-I r-raped her. I raped her. We-we all raped her.”

The tears she cries change in an instant. They’re no longer full of pain from the wound on her neck, but agony of finally seeing the man in front of her. I spare her the pain of knowing what he’s been doing to Sophie, but that’s more for her than her mother. That little girl’s been through enough without having to explain what this sick fuck’s done.

Sneering at the tears he pretends are remorseful, I jab

at his chest. “Now, get up. You’re going to help us find the others.”

“Fuck you, cunt. I’m not doing shit for you.”

Leaning close, I drag the club from navel to lips, shoving the tip past his remaining teeth. He fights me at first, shaking his head left and right, but his muscles are weak and battered from the beating, so he’s all but powerless as I shove it down his throat. “You know, there’s not much I haven’t been put through… Not much that hasn’t been shoved inside me. But you? I bet you wouldn’t know what to do if I rammed this metal pole up your ass. I’m not scared to find out. Are you?” And the greatest part is, he is. Jeremy Lakens is fucking terrified of how eager I am to repay his affection.

Lost in his terror, Cade calls me back. “Bun,” he speaks stiffly, Mrs. Lakens limp in his hold. Her head is tilted awkwardly to the side, arms dangling flaccidly. The gash on her throat leaks blood still, but its flow has slowed and coagulated. Soon, it will be nothing but a grizzly scab and a terrible memory.

“Toss me those.” Stretching my head over my shoulder, I follow his gestured direction. Single-handedly, I reach for the kinky, fuzzy, red handcuffs on the nightstand, hurling them overhead.

It all happens so quickly. Cade takes the wife’s passed-out shape and throws her onto the bed, swiftly shackling her to the iron bedpost. After making sure she’s locked in, he rounds the bed, violently ripping the club from Lakens’s throat, replacing it with his wife’s blood-coated blade.

“You’re going to fucking move and do what she says, because if you don’t, I’m going to fuck your throat with this blade, and then I’m going to saw off your dick and let her shove it up your hairy, untouched ass. You will cry, you will bleed, and then you’ll fucking die. And in the end, I’ll still find a way to get her what she wants. So, what do you say?” Cade asks, running the tip along the inside of Lakens’s mouth. “Are you going to make this easy? Or do you feel like playing?”

The smell of urine fills the room as he nods. Pleased, Cade slips the blade from between his lips and takes him by the back of the neck. With the occasional glance over my shoulder, I walk us out of the room and into the main sitting area, where I noticed a blocky, off-white computer pressed into a corner.

No words are spoken but Lakens’s as Cade shoves him into the desk’s chair. “There’s nothing I can do to help you! The list of men under Marone is miles long! There’s no way for you to identify them all!”

“I don’t need them all,” I state plainly, only a few faces in mind. Colette and Mayor Williams were easy enough to track down. With Cade’s blade pressed to his jugular, Lakens found them in minutes. It’s the scout that’s giving us trouble. Lakens claims not to know who we’re talking about, and Cade and I are unsure of his actual name. So we’re lost.

The two of us describe him as best we can, piecing together random details until we’re left with no more memories. If it weren’t for Michael… Bruno… whatever his fucking name is, neither of us would have ever been in this situation. He started this! And he has to pay for it.

The distress working its way onto my face has Cade’s skin burning red. From my peripheral, as I pace a trail on the scratchy carpet, I watch the knife in his grip begin to shake. Rage shows in his bared teeth. It’s all I see when he bends at the waist, hissing into Lakens’s ear.

“If you’re wasting our time hoping someone is going to save you, then you are sorely mistaken. I will gut you and hang you by your insides before anyone gets the chance. So you fucking give her who she wants, and then we’ll be out of your hair. Think you can do that?”

Cade protects me like no one ever has, getting me what I want—who I want—by any means necessary. It frightens Lakens, his threat of ruthless violence, yet thrills me to the point of weakness. Needing to focus until I have what I need, I press my palm against my quaking belly, compelling my desire to die.

Gulping, Lakens struggles to sit straight, wincing with unconcealed agony. The sight brings a smile to my lips, though he still didn’t get all he deserves.

A part of me felt that Lakens was holding back, keeping what I want to know to himself just to spite me. I see that I was right when his fingers type rapidly over the keys. The urge to slam the baton over his knuckles for playing this game is almost too strong to ignore, but I step back because Cade’s in control, and this man may not listen to me, but he sure as fuck is obeying the boy with the blade.

Within seconds, our scout’s face pops up on the NYPD’s police registry.

Nathan McDermot.

No violations.

No arrests.

The man doesn’t even have a parking ticket, and yet I know that’s the man who helped traffic me. Based on Cade’s quick intake of breath, I know this is the man who did the same to him.

On a scrap of paper I ripped off Lakens’s refrigerator, I write out the final address, reviewing every location before shoving it into the pocket of Cade’s slacks.

“There. I gave you what you fucking wanted. Now get the fuck out of my house before I send you both back to where you belong.”

His back is facing us, so he doesn’t see the look Cade and I share—the silent conversation as a result of his comment.

What a stupid fucking man. If there was any chance of him getting out of this alive…well, that’s over now.

The knife was pressed against his jugular at the start, but in a flash, it’s staked below his belly button, slowly trailing up until it’s back at its resting place. It happened in a blink, so fast that Laken never got the chance to scream, and I can barely exhale the gasp in my throat. It dissipates like a puff of smoke, allowing me to smile while Lakens twitches in his seat, guts spilling into his lap. Any wail he could possibly possess dies with him.

Racing around the chair, I make it just in time to see the life leave his eyes. It’s dramatic, with a gaping mouth and blown-out pupils. I breathe in his final breath, savoring the glorious taste of his end.

Cade rips out the blade with me still bent before him, splashing my lips and throat with the fresh blood. I can’t help but lick away the metallic flavor, vastly preferring this taste of him to all the others.

“I didn’t mean to take that away from you,” Cade purrs, taking me by the cheeks to rest his forehead against mine. “But he was really beginning to piss me off.”

Gazing past my blood-coated lashes, I fall into his stare, carelessly dropping the baton to my side so I can tangle my fingers in his damp curls. From the moment I met Cade, I told myself the only reason I wanted him was for comfort. It was to cope with the pain and fear that overwhelmed me. But I’m not scared now. I don’t need comfort. I need him to take those fingers off my hips and shove them inside me.

“Fuck me.”

Smirking, he licks the remaining blood from my lips, sucking the taste off my tongue. “Finally.”

I’m ready for him the second he slides his fingers between my thighs. Tongue trapped between his teeth, I drive my nails into his chest, grappling with the tedious buttons keeping me from his flesh.

Cade helps me with a savage pull, tearing open the clean, gentlemanly dress shirt. The buttons disappear in the carpet’s fibers as quickly as his fingers get lost in my hair. Aggressively, he marches us back, keeping me upright until I’m pinned against the cold wood wall.

Never taking his lips off mine, my thighs are hoisted around his waist. The heat from his straining cock seeps into my clit, tearing a guttural moan from between my teeth. Instead of filling me with his thick length, Cade rips his lips from mine, sticking two fingers into his mouth before spearing them into me.

Head falling against the wall, I cry out his name into the space between us. Greedy, Cade breathes me in, high on my ecstasy while being knuckle-deep in my heat. I beg for more—more teeth, more passion…

More brutality.

Look what they did to me, I think to myself. I need the pain that comes with sex. It’s something I recognize as Cade drives another digit into me, but instead of freezing under his savagery, I turn to liquid in his arms.

“Oh, fuck.” With growing need, I begin climbing up his solid torso, grinding my pelvis into his palm while trailing my tongue from his cheek to ear.

With my pussy in his hand and his tongue between my teeth, we remember where we are and the little girl hiding in the next room. She’ll be traumatized enough to walk in and find Lakens slumped over the desktop, blood spilling onto the floor, and her mother handcuffed to the bed. I won’t add anything more to her nightmares by fucking Cade where she can discover us.

Luckily, I never have to part from Cade’s lips for him to understand. Seeming to be on the same wavelength as me, he backs us away from the wall, holding on to me with ease while marching us out the door.

At some point, from when we first stepped inside to now, the rain began to fall. It sizzles the second it touches our skin, turning to steam from our heat. Setting me on my feet, Cade pins me to a wooden post, emptying me of his fingers.

My core feels the vacantness immediately, aching to be filled once again.

“Open,” Cade demands, then slides his fingers between my lips. The taste of me is overwhelming, but I suck his digits clean, swallowing every bit of my flavor before dropping to my knees. My need makes my unbuckling clumsy, but I get his pants unbuttoned enough to pop out his length.

Tip bobbing against my lips, I draw him between my teeth, greedily sucking the arousal out of his seeping slit. Groaning above, Cade claws into the wet wood, mouth parted, forehead pinched as I take him to the back of my throat.

Icy rain pours down on us from the low-hanging clouds. It washes away the traces of Lakens on my skin. Huffing through open lips, Cade reaches down and wipes the washed-off pigment from my chin. I watch from beneath my lashes as he stares at the watered-down blood, smirking at the proof of what we’ve done before licking it away.

With the iron flavor fresh on the tip of his tongue, he pulls his length out of my mouth. He hauls me up onto the tips of my toes, sucking the taste of himself out of every corner of my mouth. Opening wide, Cade makes sure no inch goes unclean while his coarse, calloused palm runs beneath my thigh.

My borrowed black dress hikes over my ass when he rests my calf around his hip. “Look at me.” It would be impossible to look anywhere else as he glides the thick head of his cock past my opening. The richness of his blue eyes in the moonlight is my only anchor to earth as his length fills me to completion. I can only elicit a small, breathy gasp while dropping the back of my head to the wooden post.

His thrusts start slow, but we both know that’s not what we need. “Harder,” I rasp, raking my nails across the hard muscles sculpting his back. “Fuck me harder.”

Angling his head down, he sucks on the rapid pulse in my neck, changing the pace of his thrusts until I lose strength in my standing leg. Saving me from slipping, he hooks both my feet around him.

I’m suspended in the air as he pounds into my center. The brutality of his pace leaves me breathless, but soaked. I’m unable to take more, but I beg for it anyway, pleading to feel him past the hollow of my guts until I echo in the rainfall.

I don’t tell him when I’m about to release, powerless to speak through my ecstasy.

“Come on, Bun. Come for me,” he growls, nipping at my collar enough to feel the sharp points piercing into me. Something about the savage sting sends currents of electricity to my core, forcing primal, throaty groans to tear from my chest.

The same animalistic roar rumbles from his clenched mouth as my opening strangles his length. The hot spurt of his come mixing with my juices draws out my moan, but he gladly swallows it whole while thrusting in his final pumps.

Completely helpless against his touch, I wrap my arms around his head, pressing myself as close as I can be while his kiss travels to the bite he left on my chest. We stay in this position until our limbs go numb, but even after, he doesn’t let me go. We stand in silence, our breathing heavy while watching the rain come down in sheets.

I drip in water and come with the memory of blood.

One down, I smile.