5
Every part of my body hurts when I wake. It’s the kind of pain that tells me I had an episode — my head aches, thighs are sore, and my pussy... god, that one’s new. I don't remember ever waking up with true pain there before. Bracing myself, I move the blanket off of me and check my naked body out in the light coming in from the window.
There are bruises everywhere. Discomfort prickles through my neck as I crane forward to take stock of the fingertip-shaped marks on my hips, legs, and arms. There’s a bite mark on my shoulder that’s screaming for an antiseptic and I’m... sticky. Really fucking sticky. My stomach rolls as I slide my fingers through the lingering mess between my thighs. Somehow, I already know it isn’t just cum down there, but it still makes me nauseous to see the tinge of pink.
They made me bleed.
Since it’s physically impossible for me to leave this house, I know exactly who did this to me. They warned me, sure. But a naive little part of me had hoped they were kidding. Had hoped that even in the middle of an episode, I’d realize who they were. That I’d say no.
Hell, I’m bleeding and covered in bruises. Maybe I did say no.
But the most fucked up part of all of this? I’m not nauseous because they fucked me. I’m nauseous because it’s turning me on all over again.
There’s definitely something wrong with me. I know that. But Asher and Manson... it’s not fair how hot they are. How possessive and commanding, how intense. If they’d treat me like a human being for even a moment, I’d probably beg them to let me quit my job and be their little sex slave.
I just hope to hell I didn’t say that out loud last night.
Preparing for the worst, I gather up some clean clothes and make my way to the bathroom across the hall. It’s a small mercy that neither of them are waiting for me, and I’m allowed to shower, brush my teeth, and get a better look at that bite mark.
From this angle, it’s easier to see they’re Asher’s teeth. All perfectly straight except for one — one of his bottom central incisors is just crooked enough to be noticeable. I can’t believe I didn’t wake up when he bit me hard enough to leave a mark. I can’t believe I slept through any of this when normally, a shock on my wrist is enough to wake me up.
Maybe it’s because I was so sleep deprived. Maybe I just didn’t want to wake up.
Or maybe it’s because of the bottle of sleeping pills sitting on the counter. They weren’t there yesterday, so did they leave them here on purpose, so I’d know that I can’t stop this?
Now that he got what he wanted, there’s a chance he’ll leave me alone. Let me leave and find somewhere else to stay. He’ll be bored now, right? The novelty is gone. But judging by the state of my body, there was more to this than just revenge. It almost looks like passion.
... Yeah, right.
Scoffing, I open the bathroom door and find the twin assholes leaning against the opposing wall with smug expressions. Shirtless. “Morning, pet. Sleep good?”
Asher never smiles at me, so the way his lips spread looks almost menacing. I keep my head held high as I answer, “Fine, actually. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. Usually you go straight to the coffee machine when you wake up, so I figured you must have had some crazy dreams.”
Manson’s eyes roam the marks he can see, and I don’t miss the way they darken slightly. “Good dreams, you mean.”
“I’ve had better.” Shrugging, I move past them to the kitchen as my heart beats louder in my chest. “How soon are you two leaving for work?”
“We leave when we leave,” Ash replies flippantly, following me out to the kitchen closely. “Had better, huh?”
“Dream’s probably just a little fuzzy,” Manson cuts in. “Let her have her coffee first.”
Nodding, my annoying step-brother actually listens and backs off. The truth is, there’s no way I’ll ever remember a single second of what happened. I never do. I’ve filmed myself a few times and people have told me stories, but I have exactly zero firsthand memories of my episodes. It’s the only mercy this disorder shows me.
Still, coffee helps wake me up enough to deal with them. I make them each a cup according to our deal, then sit and try not to flinch. “How was your night?” I ask pointedly. Let the bastards admit to what they did. “Were you out terrorizing children?”
The only response I get from Ash is a snort, whereas Manson seems more than willing to actually have a conversation with me... just not about what I need to hear. “No more than usual. What are your plans for today?”
“Putting the lock on my door and working for a few hours. I have a client I regularly meet with.”
“About that lock,” Ash drawls, a sparkle in his gaze that oozes danger. “We decided to pass on that.”
“You can pass all you want, I’m still putting it on there. That was part of the deal,” I remind him sharply. “I’ll just wait until you leave and do it anyway.”
“Yeah, well good fucking luck finding it.”
Manson holds up a finger before I can respond, his frown deep. “Client?”
He really doesn’t play well with others. “Yes, a client. I do have those, remember?” I don’t bother answering Asher — it can’t be that hard to find. He’s not as slick as he thinks he is. “He’s one of my regulars.”
“Who is he? Tell us about him.”
There’s evident anger in his curiosity that he’s trying to hide, which makes me all the more eager to tell him the truth. I hope he feels like shit after.
“His name is Cas. He’s sixty-three years old, and he lost his wife twenty years ago. He never remarried because she was the love of his life. He calls me once a week, asking me to pretend to be his late wife Diana. He doesn’t want anything sexual, he just wants to tell me about his life, their kids, and that he loves and misses her.”
Silence.
Both of them are staring at a loss for words, and for the first time, I feel like I have a leg up on them. After a few moments Manson stumbles out an “oh” before clearing out his throat. “How many clients do you have like that?”
“A couple. Not necessarily with the same history, but a fair few of them just want to spend an hour feeling like they’re talking to someone who loves them.” It’s true, and they’re my favorites. It gives me an excuse to pretend to love someone, too. “But the rest are freaks.”
I take a slow sip of my coffee as Ash stands up to walk out of the room, but when I don’t hear his room door close, I have a strong feeling he’s still listening.
“How many freaks exactly?”
“Enough to pay the bills,” I admit. “One gets so turned on he’s offered me ten grand to fuck him in person. I might’ve, but he’s really into wet work and I don’t want to get pissed on for real. It’s just not my thing.”
Releasing a deep breath, Manson sits up straighter with clenched fists just as Asher returns. “Some dude wants to piss on you for ten fucking grand?”
“Pretty much. I’m not above doing it for the money, but the guy honestly gives me the creeps. I’m not entirely sure he’d let me leave after.” Which isn’t any different than the situation I’ve found myself in, so maybe I should’ve taken the money.
“Of course he wouldn’t. No one would pay ten grand for something like that and then let it just walk away. He’d probably be wearing your skin by now.”
I don’t know why Ash is pretending to give a fuck about my life, but his voice sounds strained. Good. “Which is why I just talk to him instead. Up until quite recently, I’ve been pretty good at keeping myself out of kidnapping situations.”
The guys share a look that sends a shiver up my spine before Ash disappears again.
“Is it kidnapping if you came to us?” Manson doesn’t sound accusatory at all, but there’s still tension written all over him.
“Yeah, it’s still fucking kidnapping. Or at least some variation of the same crime. Did you think you could just keep someone locked up when they didn’t want to be and it was perfectly legal?”
Shrugging, he leans back on the couch and rubs at his temples. “Someone? No. But, we wouldn’t do this to just someone.”
Meaning they wouldn’t risk taking someone who would actually be missed. It isn’t much of a crime when no one fucking knows it’s happening.
It’s a slap in the face, an ice bath reminder that the only person I had left in this world was a monster who took the first opportunity to use me. “Well I’m glad it was so easy for you. Can you please get him out of my room? I want to lay down.”
“Rhea,” he starts, but seems to think better of it and walks off to go check in on Asher. I have no clue what he’s doing in there, but when Manson comes back out alone, I know it’s not good. “So you really don’t remember your episodes?”
“No, I don’t. To save us all the trouble, yes I know at least one of you took the liberty of fucking me last night. The bruises, the bite, the cum, I’m not stupid. What big men you are drugging and fucking a girl who can’t say no.” Anger flashes through me until I think I’m going to cry — and since that’s the last thing I want to do, I decide to fight fire with napalm. Standing, I move as close to Manson as I can without physically touching him, then look up to meet his eyes. “It’s a shame, too. If you’d have just asked... I’d have let you do whatever you wanted to me when I was awake. Just not him. Never him.”
Something flashes in his eyes so suddenly I don’t need to see his hands reaching out for me, I feel them, but he stops before we make contact. “Whatever I wanted?”
His voice is lower now like what we’re saying is between us alone, but I know better. Demons like Asher have excellent hearing.
This is one time I’m thankful for it.
“Whatever you wanted. I always had a crush on you, to the point that I pictured you when I lost my virginity,” I lie. “I could’ve been yours without the lies and the imprisonment. All you had to do was ask.”
I hate that I actually feel something when he finally makes contact with me, but I manage to pull off keeping my face neutral. “And now?”
Fingers curl around my hips, sending heat straight to my core. I hate the fact that he gets to me. “And now, you chose your side. I told you yesterday, Manson. My obedience, my submission? It’ll never be real. You’ll never earn it. Enjoy me while I’m sleeping, because it’s all you’ll ever get — and you can thank your boy Asher for that.”
“Whomp fucking whomp,” Ash hisses. “Long as you know your role, who gives a fuck?”
If he didn’t care at all, why does he sound so annoyed in there?
“So, what?” Manson’s fingers curl even tighter. “You’re ours, but only until you find a way out?”
They’re not hearing me. They’ll never hear me.
So why do I bother trying to explain?
“It’s fine, Manson. Let me know when you need something.”
Jaw tense, he spins around to disappear into his room just as Ash finally exits mine.
He stays in the doorway though, leaning against the frame as he regards me, but I refuse to show any sign of weakness. “Was it fun for you, at least?” I ask. “Did it feel the way you always hoped it would?”
“Better,” he surprisingly admits. “You’re so much nicer when you’re asleep. So... pliant.”
“Good. You always struck me as the type who would rather fuck a dead girl than a live one, so I guess this is as close as you can get. I love that for you.”
The giant asshole grins. “I love that for you,” he mocks, stepping in slowly to back me against the wall, and when he presses his wide palm against my chest I don’t know what the fuck to do. We stand there for a solid thirty seconds staring at one another until finally he lets it drift lower to squeeze the hell out of my tit, making me gasp. “Feel alive to me.”
I’d hit him if I weren’t almost positive he’d kill me for it. “Alive, sure. But coherent? Willing? Excited? Not so much. Didn’t the vacant look in my eyes turn you off?”
“Surprisingly no.” Leaning in, he whispers, “You looked less like her,” into my ear, but as that sentence goes on, his whisper becomes a growl.
So this is still punishment, then. All because I look like a woman who screwed us both over. “She hurt me too, Asher.”
“Did she?” He braces both of his hands on the wall behind my head, keeping me caged there like the pet he sees me as. “How so?”
“The same way she hurt you. She killed my dad, too. Then she dragged me into a new family where I wasn’t even wanted and killed my new dad just for fun. Then she got caught and left me with nothing and no one but the legacy of being the Black Widow’s daughter. I understand that’s not enough for you, and that you’re far from done punishing me, but just know things could’ve been different between us if you’d have opened your eyes and noticed you weren’t the only victim she left alive.”
“You’re right. But things aren’t different and now you’re ours. At least now pain isn’t the only thing we bring each other.” He holds up his phone and presses play on something I can’t see, but the whimpers and moans I hear are undoubtedly mine.
When I hear myself plead “I need it! I... need you,” I think that’ll be the thing that does me in — but I don’t waver.
“I didn’t feel a thing,” I remind him. “None of the pleasure, none of the pain.”
“Your cum on my cock says otherwise.“
How cute that he thinks I came for him, like it takes more than a slight breeze to get me there when I’m in that state. It doesn’t change the fact that if I can’t remember it, it’s as good as never feeling it at all. “Tell yourself whatever you need to, Asher. We both know you won’t stop anyway.”
Ghosting his finger down my cheek, he finally moves away to let me breathe. “Always been a smart girl.”
Not smart enough to keep myself out of this situation, but here we are. “Can I have the video?”
He looks genuinely pleased with himself when he pulls his phone out to send it over, assuring me he has no idea what I’m actually going to do with it.
Good. Let him think he’s won.
“Thank you. Do you need anything before I go to work?”
The bracelet vibrates against my skin so abruptly I jump, but when I look over at Asher I don’t see the remote in his hands. With a chuckle, he raises them up to show me it wasn’t him and then points at the door. “I think your boyfriend wants something.”
Making sure he’s still watching, I take the bracelet off, drop it on the ground, and stomp on it. “Coming, Manson,” I sing-song, giving him my back as a dark laugh rumbles out of his chest.
Manson is lying on his bed with his legs wide and an expression that tells me he’s about to piss me off. “Can you grab that remote for me, pet?”
My eyes flick right to the nightstand not two inches from the edge of his bed. The nightstand where the remote is sitting. Instead of arguing or flipping him off like I want to, I take a few quick steps forward and slap it onto his hand. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, help me up. I gotta piss. You really took it out of me last night, girl.”
Asher made it clear he was the one that fucked me, but from what he’s saying, it sounds like he did. I really need to watch this fucking video.
“Sorry to tucker you out. Maybe you two should take it easy tonight and just get some sleep.”
The look he gives me promises that won’t happen, but that’s okay. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.