Chapter 10
Ten
Violet
Damon never touched me like the others. He never hurt me to my face, never held me down and raped me, or ripped my toenails off, or starved me until I struggled to hold my head up.
He never did any of those things. But he did watch it all.
He watched it all with a smile on his face and a laugh in his throat, a bulge behind his zipper.
He did nothing to stop the torture and pain I faced.
His complicity was just as much of a sin; he needed his judgement as much as the rest.
Damn the church, all of them. Damn every one of those active or complicit men hiding behind something they called sacred. Masking their evil crimes with fake piety. Damon never touched me or hurt me, but he was just as bad.
And there he’d been at the train station, ready to drag me back to it all, back to the hell that was his church, his false belief system shrouding deprivation.
His hands outstretched and horror on his face as we fell.
I could remember each twitch of his expression if I thought about it hard enough.
But taking myself back to that day was a nightmare, the shock, the anger, the determination and fear, it all rippled through me and made me whimper.
Theo’s hand on my knee soothed me from the edge of my anguish, the jitteriness in me urging us forward.
But we were in the car, going as fast as we could, anyway.
I had nowhere to put the nervous energy apart from balling it up and using it later.
Nothing I could do would get us there faster.
Even so, my skin itched to get there right now, in an instant.
Damon needed to die right now. The waiting was rough, scratchy in my organs.
The drive to Damon’s house was a lengthy one, but compared to what Theo and I had already done, how long we’d drifted about in a car just to get away, the journey felt lighter.
We weren’t fleeing from something; we were racing toward a goal, a mission.
So the energy buzzed, excitement and urgency that zapped between where Theo’s palm rested on my thigh.
“How you holding up?” He asked with a squeeze of my flesh, letting his fingers linger.
Leaving the cabin had unnerved us both, leaving the safety of the fenced off land, the cameras watching every twitch of the leaves and rustle of the wind…
we’d loaded up on weapons and food, medical supplies, but we had a long night ahead.
Vulnerable to outside influence, to things going wrong.
If only we were on our way to a picnic, not a premeditated murder.
Maybe one day.
“Tense,” I admitted. “I have all this annoying energy I don’t know how to use.”
Theo was quiet for a moment, the road still rolling by outside the window as he drove. “I have an idea,” he said, pulling over with a sharp turn of the wheel.
“What are you doing?” I laughed, looking at him as he flashed me a naughty grin. It made my belly squeeze in the most delicious way.
He gestured to his lap, leaning back and spreading his thighs. “Come here.”
“Why?” I chuckled, though didn’t hesitate to do as he commanded. It was awkward, the wheel and the center getting in the way, tangling up my legs. But we snorted and laughed as I got myself positioned.
But when I expected him to kiss me or touch me, he shifted himself, and that mess of limbs and grunting continued as he climbed over to the passenger side, leaving me half hanging off the driver’s seat.
“What the hell?” I spluttered, frowning, settling into the seat.
“Drive,” he said plainly, nodding to the road.
“No!”
“Drive. Burn some of that energy by focusing on controlling this hunk of junk.” He patted the door. “This is basically a fucking go-kart; you can do it.”
“I never did get a go on the bumper cars,” I told him, my hands gripped the wheel so tight my knuckles were white. It was alien. Theo laughed, then scoffed.
“Fucking hell, our parents are shit heads,” he said with a shake of his head, his hand landing on my thigh. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see it.”
I shook my head. “No, Theo.” I turned the wheel a little, testing it, straightened up, a bit more relaxed as I let myself settle into position. “Never on you.”
Then he told me what to do, and time sped up. Anxiety refocused on not sending us off the road.
I was shit. Stopping and stalling, swerving and shrieking any time another car drove past us the other way.
He wanted me to have the skill in case I needed to escape alone; he talked me through it, telling me I was lucky it wasn’t the UK where I’d have to deal with gears and roundabouts.
He looked like he was having fun while my heart pounded.
“You’re doing great,” he told me after about thirty minutes, when I’d calmed down a little, when I could keep a steady enough pace without jerking us around.
“Thank you,” I muttered, and now that my mind wasn’t so overwhelmed with everything I had to remember, my mood blackened. This was a skill I should have. A normal part of growing up was learning to drive, and it was another thing I’d been deprived of. Normality was lost on me.
It wasn’t just those men who needed to suffer, but everyone who held my hand and took me down that path. My parents. Charlie was already dead. Not my sisters.
Theo sighed, his hand resting on mine still gripping the wheel.
Stuck in the past with me for a moment. He’d only been a kid too, wrapped up in what he’d been led to believe with no power to break out.
He helped me now, where it counted. And I told him so.
“Together, we’re going to put everything to rights.
We’re going to fix all the problems thrown at us, correct the swing of us and evil. ” My eyes darkened. “All of them.”
“I want to paint Rafe’s world in blood, Violet, end it as viciously as he tried to end yours. Fucking hell, baby.” His voice deepened, lowered, spilling a dark truth. “Let’s go kill this man. Kill every single one of them in a shower of red.”
I loved my brother beyond any reason, and it was hard not to touch him constantly, to have him pressed against me or inside me in some way.
Tongue, fingers, his cock, I wanted him always.
Now, it ached so damn deep I wished I wasn’t driving; the focus I needed to pay attention was too much.
If he was at the wheel… I could touch him, stroke his cock, maybe lean over and suck him, lick at his cock until his cum painted my tongue.
I squirmed. “Shit.” The more time I spent with him, the dirtier my thoughts grew.
The more he opened up my mind to the good of sex and intimacy.
“What is it, beautiful?” he asked, teasing. “Tell me what you need.”
“You need to drive.”
He nodded, and I managed to bring the car to a trundling stop. Once we were back with him at the wheel, I was on my knees on the seat, pulling his cock free to suckle on as he drove.
Another way to distract myself on the journey, make my brother wild with the need to come, but hold it off. His squirming and pleas for release passed the time nicely.
The row of houses was quiet, everything still and dark, Damon’s too.
It was the middle of the night before we arrived, with hours left until the sun would rise.
We should be trying to catch up on a little sleep before kicking the plan into motion, but we were both buzzing with energy.
Too wired to consider switching off. Theo pulled up down the street before plunging us into silence to wait, to watch.
For movement, for neighbors, for anyone else that might be in his house.
“No cars but his own,” Theo pointed out.
“Hopefully it’s just him.” I didn’t want any collateral damage here, especially no women or children.
That would defeat the entire damn point of all this.
Only the men who made me suffer needed it returned to them tenfold. I suffered for them; no one else would.
Theo had his hand on my thigh as we watched the house, just stroking, keeping me grounded while the energy coursing through me tried to bust free.
Driving the car had worked to distract me from my agitation; sucking Theo off as he tried to focus on the road had soothed me, but it was back with full force now.
One of my demons was in that house, oblivious to what was coming.
The property was a decent size, on a residential street, so we’d have to be quiet, sneaky. I couldn’t wait.
“Do you remember that time when we were kids, that Mum and Dad went away for an entire week and we ran riot through the house?” Theo asked, his eyes not wandering from the house even as his thumb drifted up my thigh, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into my skin.
“Yeah,” I replied, remembering that perfect week with a small laugh.
I’d been about five, Theo would have been nine.
Charlie, at eleven, ruled the roost, of course.
And the two younger girls were babies, kept close to the nannies.
I think the nannies felt bad for us, because for an entire week, we faced no punishment, no strict rules.
They let us eat more food, sweet food, and just enjoy being kids.
That was a common theme in my childhood. Parents away, we were free to be children.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that sleepover we had, the three full days and nights you, me, and Charlie spent together, all piled in his bed under the fort we made,” Theo continued, sounding wistful, sad.
He hadn’t spoken much about his feelings there, killing our older brother.
I hadn’t questioned the how or the why. It wasn’t time.
One day we would sit and spill all our sins, but first we had to complete them all.
“What of it?” I asked, giving him a brief look. His mouth was down-turned, but his eyes were warm at the memory. Sad, too.