Chapter 14 #2
It was a memory of our first night in the forest. I was so pissed at myself for letting her get away and rip through that beautiful skin of hers as she ran.
If anyone was going to leave marks on her, it should have been me.
But seeing her bleed like that had made my cock stir in my pants.
It was my sick brain’s way of making sense of all the lust and adoration and hate I felt towards her.
I had loathed her to the core of my being for the man she represented.
And for the fact that she was the only one privileged enough to get out unscathed once Anderson had his sights on her; a privilege my mother and sister never had.
What made her so fucking special? But there I was, giving her the exact same privileges, because I was fucking spellbound.
She could’ve brought me to my knees, from the very first time I laid my hands on her, if only she knew.
When I’d pulled her soft, trembling body against mine in that bank, her life as she knew it was over because I was never letting go again.
Not until she breathed her last breath, taken by my hands, no one else’s.
My stupid feelings had fucked up the plan entirely.
I was supposed to seduce her, but my mind was warring between hurting her for my own depraved pleasure and ripping my heart from my chest to gift it to her.
I had lost utter control of myself, for the first time since I was a raging child.
Before I had learned how to rein myself in and suppress it.
Such was her power. Making me feel. And I, true to my being, raged against it, and her.
My girl won anyway.
I watched, fascinated by the veristic nature of her hologram as she pulled that pretty, torn-up dress down her legs, her lashes fluttering with unease at the lust oozing from me.
These harrowing, vivid memories would be my curse for daring to hold on to her for so long. Save from giving myself a lobotomy, I would have to endure it, drown in it… savour it.
After all these years, this had pushed me over that edge. I was finally losing my mind.
About goddamn time.
I was tired of the fucking suspense. Insanity had always hovered at the edge of my psyche, like a demonic presence waiting to overrun me at the first sign of weakness.
I balled my trembling fingers into a fist. They haven’t stopped shaking since I left her.
“Are you hearing me, you fucking cunt? Wesley’s going to find me. Then you’ll wish your whore mother never had you!” Charles spat at me.
The insult didn’t even faze me. It didn’t reach me, like it would have. I already wished my mother never had me. I was a disgrace to her memory.
I turned towards Anderson. I had to focus. He called Dianna a whore and I didn’t even flinch.
Anderson shivered as my eyes fell on him.
And I knew it had nothing to do with the freezing temperature of this basement room.
He was strapped, completely naked on the torture table I had specially made for him.
Five stainless-steel beams—one for each of his limbs and his head—were thin enough to not get in my way.
It was tilted, so Anderson would be in somewhat of a standing position.
The best position, really, when torturing.
The blood flows down to one spot, instead of all around the table. Less mess to clean up afterwards.
The whole room, in fact, was decked out with unpleasant devices, just for him. I had meticulously crafted this room over the years, fantasising about how I would use everything in here on him.
That day had finally come.
And I couldn’t focus.
The scene on the bed across the room warped, changing into another memory.
Ava’s freckled face, her perfect mouth open in a moan, her devastating green eyes glazing over as I made her come.
Fuck! She was excruciatingly, monumentally fucking beautiful, like her gods themselves had plucked my wildest fantasy from my mind and crafted her, just to fuck with me.
To laugh at me as I tasted her, knowing how it would fuck me up when I inevitably had to let her go.
The sweet, perfect memory, like all the others that tortured me, twisted a knife right into my gut. No. I’ve been stabbed in the gut before. This hurt was much worse.
Hunter. I should go see him. He was the one that had been coaxing me back to sanity for the last three days.
He might not agree with my choices, nevertheless, he was the seraph on my shoulder, keeping me firmly locked in reality.
Ensuring that I stuck to my plan, because turning back now would only hurt Ava more.
I had died a thousand little aching deaths since I closed that vault door.
I’ve only made the mistake of sleeping once since then.
Her scared, trembling voice in my earpiece had ripped me apart, over and over as the nightmare kept me locked in the memory.
My mind, very creatively, added the images of her losing it in there.
I couldn’t wake up from it. It wouldn’t let me go as it looped the memory again and again.
Eventually, I had screamed myself awake. Like I did when I was a kid.
“Did you fuck her?”
The question snapped me from my thoughts. I’d been staring at Anderson with my head slightly tilted. I hadn’t meant to do it, but the fucker was practically vibrating now, scared shitless.
Good.
His body urging him to run was not a new sight for me.
I had that effect on people. And for good reason.
Most people had the good sense to feel uneasy around me.
They might not understand why, and some even chalk it up to infatuation, but the nervous laughs and jittery shifting was a constant in my life.
Even Ava never quite lost that instinct completely.
Turning my back to Anderson, my eyes glided over the assortment of toys laid out on the steel table. My fingers grasped the dirtiest one. I didn’t like that he was talking about my Ava.
This one I made myself while on a stakeout in Mexico. A piece of wood with five rusty nails through the end. A simple device really. But, oh, the calculated pain it could cause.
“I asked you a question, you sick fuck,” Anderson bellowed again. “Did. You. Fuck. Her?”
I turned to him, feeling my composure slipping.
Yes! And she’s getting off on my cock at this very minute, in this very room.
The crazy clawed up my throat in the form of a demented laugh as I watched Ava throw her head backwards, her movements desperate as she used me to make herself come.
Seems like her betrayal really did a number on Anderson.
Or was it because a woman had led him to his demise?
After all the pain he had inflicted on women over the years, it was kind of poetic, really.
But after all of it, he still saw Ava as his, clinging to his delusions.
In his mind, she was nothing more than his property, on which I had trespassed.
And I really tried to battle the urge to wipe that notion from his mind, finger by fucking finger.
To wipe his mind of her entirely. He didn’t even deserve to kiss the dirt she walked on.
And neither did I.
Ava’s laughter filled the room, the memory dragging me back to Rainbow Falls. Where I held her cold, trembling body as close to me as I could possibly get it. Her hair smelled like the forest and a hint of berries. Even wet, it glowed in the sun, making it look like she had a halo around her head.
It was the best feeling having her relax in my arms, letting me hold her, resting her head on my chest, trusting me.
No. The way her laughter made me feel. That was the best feeling in this goddamn world.
It was all things good, wrapped up in the most beautiful sound, and it was the drug that had consumed me, but instead of destroying, it healed.
It mended the black, broken pieces of my heart.
So I made it my mission to see her happy.
To make her laugh. For completely selfish reasons.
Focus, you bastard! Snap out of it.
Anderson’s eyes were wide at the medieval device in my hand, and a sneering smile crept onto my face.
After Ava’s laughter… and her moans, Anderson’s screams could become my third favourite sound.
And he was playing with the devil’s balls for daring to mention my princess.
“Tell me, Anderson. Are you trying to distract me or make it worse? Because you’re only achieving the latter, my friend.
” I chuckled. “By God, you are dim.” I sauntered over to him, taking blissful delight in his squirming with each step I took.
Anderson took a deep breath and steeled himself, not taking his eyes off the thing in my hand. “When I get out of here, I’m going to make her watch as I cut your dick off.”
I had to give it to him. He was a brave bastard. And I couldn’t wait to take that from him. When I’m done with him, he’ll be sobbing, begging me to stop.
Like I watched my mother do.
Maybe we could do a little roleplaying later. I would be his god, and he the stupid, pathetic creature at my feet, begging for my mercy.
“I’ll feed it to h—” His word was cut off as I swung, the rusty nails piercing his gut.
A satisfying sound ripped from his throat.
Most people would find it terrifying, but I revelled in it.
It was music to my ears. Yes, this was the third best sound in the world.
The tension of the last few days eased a bit.
This was exactly what I needed. To hear Anderson scream.
It made what I did to Ava almost bearable. Almost.
I lowered my face to his ear as he panted audibly, his eyes wild as he stared down at his stomach and my crudely made torture device still stuck in it. I was careful not to pierce any vital organs. He did not deserve that quick a death.
“Oh, Anderson, you delusional little fool, you shouldn’t speak to your god like that,” I cooed.