Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
brETT
My windpipe feels like someone stuck a serrated blade down it and twirled it around a couple of hundred times. My head is no better—like an overweight elephant currently sits on my brain, making the four concrete walls around me swim. A metallic smell zests the air, mingling with a heavy smell of rot and death that causes my lungs to seize.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.”
Jim’s cold voice makes its way to my ears, and I blink several times to clear the fog. Why am I tied up? Why is Jim here? Where is Ghost?
The last thought sends a lightning bolt down my spine, and I snap my head up—my arms and legs are tethered to the chair legs, with my bare stomach flat on the seat—so it’s really the only thing I can move.
“Jim? What are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep the fear from my voice. Fear will get me killed. It will muddle my brain and turn it to mush. I can not be afraid if I’m going to find a way out of this.
“What I should have done long ago,” he murmurs, stepping out of the shadows. “You look quite lovely tied up like that.”
“Fuck you, sicko.” I spit on his fancy leather loafers, earning me a slap to the face. My head rings as the white-hot pain radiates from my cheek, and I desperately try to blink away the added fuzziness.
“Oh, Brett. I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this. I really like you, you know.”
“So then stop this. Let me go. I know you’re a good person on the inside, Jim. You’ve been nothing but kind to me?—”
“Of course I was, you sniveling little brat,” he snarls, kicking the toe of his boot against the chair leg. “You were supposed to go along with it all. But no —Little Miss Evangeline just had to keep digging. Kept asking the wrong questions, looking into the wrong people.”
I shake my head, my mind swimming as I try to devise a way to make him see reason. “What was I supposed to do? It was my job to ask questions and find out the truth. I know you’re the same way, Jim. You want to do good, I know you do. Whatever they have on you, we can work it out! I can help you! We want the same thing at the end of the day!”
“God, you really are fucking dull,” Jim rolls his eyes, a nasty sneer twisting his normally handsome features. “We do not want the same things. I want the Sanctum to keep sending me paychecks, and you want to stop all that. So you see, Brett, you really do have to go.”
My head hurts as I look up at Jim’s cruel eyes—eyes that once held so much care for me. Was it all a lie? Is everything a lie?
“Please, don’t do this,” I whisper, treacherous tears welling in the corners of my eyes. “I know you don’t want to hurt me.”
“Maybe not,” Jim says, a shrug accompanying his flippant tone. “But it is what must be done. You were just too damn curious—and curiosity always kills the cat.” Jim walks over to a rusted table, picking up one of the many bladed instruments lining the small silver tray. “I’ll make it quick. Watching someone suffer brings me no pleasure at all.”
“How different we are, Peterson.” The mechanical voice echoing from the shadows causes my heart to take flight.
Ghost.
“You’ve taken something that does not belong to you,” Ghost says, his steps like gunshots against the concrete floor as he stalks closer. “You’ve taken something of mine. ”
Jim whips his head around, trying to locate the source of the voice that seems to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. “Who the fuck are you?”
“A shadow. A nightmare. The unholy thing that goes bump in the night. Neither flesh, blood, nor idea.” A flash of dark steel catches my eye off to the left, and I have no doubt he’s looking right at me. Ghost steps into the light, all six foot eight of him towering in the small basement like some unholy omen. He swings that black oval toward Jim, who flinches under the weight of his anger. “I am a man in a mask. And I will be the last thing your living eyes see.”
Jim takes a step back, his eyes wide as he takes in the Phantom. To his credit, none of the bravery from before remains. Clearly, he knows what he’s up against, and it’s causing him to cower.
“Any more questions for me, Jim?” Ghost asks, his head tipping slightly to the side as he watches Jim reach behind him for a weapon. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that.”
“Fuck you,” Jim snarls, wielding a large serrated blade like it will help his cause. “I’m taking you down , Phantom. I can see the Madam’s face when I tell her I killed both of you.” Jim nods, his hazel eyes wide and showcasing the growing madness within. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll be praised! I’ll be a hero! I’ll be?—”
A thunderous growl fills the space, cutting off the rest of Jim’s ramblings. Before either of us knows what’s going on, something large and white flies at Jim from his left. He tries to turn the knife at the oncoming foe but is not nearly quick enough. The blade clatters to the floor as Rupert latches those great, slobbering jaws onto Jim’s wrist, causing a crack to fill the room.
Jim screams bloody murder as his knees buckle from the pain, but Rupert is just getting started. Letting go of Jim’s useless, bloodied wrist, he goes for his neck, snapping those powerful jaws around his jugular before Jim can blink.
“No, Rupert!” Ghost orders, stepping over and grabbing the handle at the back of Rupert's black vest. “We’re leaving him alive—for now.”
Jim looks relieved for exactly one second before Ghost takes his dagger from his pocket. He raises it high, slamming the hilt down on Jim’s temple hard enough to knock him out cold. When Jim slumps to the side, Ghost straightens and rushes over to me, crouching and taking my head in his palms.
“ Brett, darling,” he whispers, yanking his mask from his face to look me over more closely. “Brett, are you okay? Did he touch you? Are you bleeding?—”
“ Ghost.”
His body freezes as he looks into my eyes, those pale orbs searching mine for any sign of discomfort. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair back off my forehead. “How could I do anything else?”
“But I ran away. I went when you told me?—”
“Shh,” he coos, placing his lips on my forehead. “You were trying to help. It was my fault. I had suspicions about Jim and didn’t share them with you. This is my fault, Brett.”
“But…”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he growls, tightening his fist at the back of my head. “If you really want to make it up to me, I want only one thing.”
My eyes go wide, and I look over at Jim’s seemingly lifeless body, some inherent part of me knowing exactly what’s about to happen.. “Wha—we can’t! He’s literally right fucking there.”
“And?” Ghost murmurs, trailing his thumb lightly down my face. “Seeing you all tied up and helpless like this makes me fucking hard. And knowing he’s sitting there, waiting for me to kill him—” Ghost’s voice is cut off as a loud groan pours from his mouth. “My fucking God.”
There’s a faint rustling noise followed by Ghost’s zipper, and the head of his cock brushes my entrance, sliding forward to brush the bundle of nerves at my apex before returning to my opening. My pussy floods as that low hum of electricity spreads from my core, muddling my mind and heating my blood.
I cry out as Ghost thrusts into me, helpless to do anything but close my eyes against the sight of an unconscious, bloodied Jim. It’s so fucking wrong, so depraved, yet—it just makes it that much hotter. And that sick little part of me I try to hide from the light loves it. Craves it.
“Look at him, darling,” Ghost growls, his hips slapping my ass with each powerful thrust. “I bet he’s wanted to do this to you ever since he laid eyes on you. I bet he’s dreamed about your pretty little cunt every night for months, just dying to get you like this.”
His strokes slow as he leans his face close to my ear, his breath ragged with the effort to hold back. “But you’re mine, now. Aren’t you?”
I nod, unable to speak past the desperate lump in my throat. Ghost reaches back and slaps my ass hard enough for me to see stars, only to deliver three more without giving me pause for breath.
“This is your punishment, darling. Maybe you’ll think twice about running away next time,” he snarls, the beast inside winning the fight as he reaches up to wrap his palm around my throat. He squeezes at either side of my neck, cutting off the blood flow to my brain and causing the room to spin. The ropes strain against my skin as I arch back, my mind a mess of colors and sensations I’ve never noticed before. Swirls of red and pink and bright, bright white sparking behind my lids in the most beautiful aurora.
My walls tighten around Ghost’s cock as I come, the volume of my moans causing Jim to stir from his heaped position on the floor. My face heats as he cracks an eye open, his mouth going wide as he watches Ghost slam into me from behind. I buck against the restraints, but it does absolutely nothing—and the fact that Jim is watching makes Ghost go harder.
“Fuck, Brett,” Ghost groans, slamming his cock against that sensitive spot at the back of my walls. “Look at him. Look how fucking pathetic he is—forced to watch you get fucked. Forced to watch you come, to get filled with my seed.”
Jim makes some sort of mumbling noise and tries to push his upper half from the floor, only to fall over to the side from his massive concussion. He twists and writhes, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to gain his bearings. Eventually, he just slumps back, his eyes bright with jealousy as he watches Ghost fuck me.
“What a good little cock whore,” Ghost breathes, slamming mercilessly against my back walls. “Come for me, darling. Show him how pretty you are when you’re coming on my cock.”
On cue, my walls tighten around him and red-hot fire courses through my veins. My head arches back as my body convulses against the ropes, Ghost’s merciless pounding drawing out my pleasure and sending me to a new high.
When the room stops spinning, I notice Jim in a half crouch, his mouth slightly parted as he gazes at my face. Ghost pumps once, twice more, and slams his hips against me as his cock throbs, dumping his seed into the deepest parts of me.
“Fuck, darling,” Ghost groans, his body shuddering against me as the last of his pleasure leaves him. “What a good fucking girl.”
“H-how dare you!” Jim thunders, a mad gleam in his eye as he lunges toward us. Ghost doesn’t pull out of me, just reaches for his dagger and sends it through Jim’s outstretched hand with a flick of his wrist. Jim’s scream echoes throughout the small room, mixing with the low, mechanical sound of Ghost’s laughter.
Ghost leans over me, pressing his masked cheek into the crook of my neck and breathing deeply. “I love the way you smell with my cum inside you. Like your body is begging to be bred by me.”
My face flames as Ghost runs his gloved hand through my folds, using two fingers to push his release back inside me. He nuzzles the side of my face as he holds them there, a low, satisfied hum emanating from the voice box in his mask.
“G-Ghost,” I whimper, my skin hot and ragged from rope burn. “Ghost, we have to?—”
“Shut the fuck up and let me enjoy you,” Ghost growls, curling his fingers against the spot he knows drives me mad. “The worm can wait.”
My eyes dart to Jim, who is currently passed out again from the stab wound, and I let out a snort at the sight. A small pool of blood trickles from the wound with Ghost’s dagger lodged squarely in the center. Asshole can’t even stay conscious long enough to pull it out. What a loser.
“Hmm,” Ghost murmurs, pulling his hand from me and placing his slicked fingers between my lips. “Suck,” he orders. “Don’t waste a fucking drop.” I do, rolling my tongue around his fingers as the salty, sweet taste fills my mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pulling his hand from my mouth when he’s satisfied. He straightens, pulling his pants back on before delicately undoing the ropes holding me in place.
It takes a few minutes, but when the bindings release, I breathe a sigh of relief, stretching my fingers as blood rushes back to my extremities. “Damn, that feels good,” I moan, dropping my head back as the cool air soothes the rope burn along my arms and calves.
Ghost pulls me into his arms, nuzzling the top of my head and caressing every inch of exposed skin. He moves toward the basement stairs, and I look up with an alarmed look.
“What about Jim?” I ask, daring a look back. He’s still passed out on the floor, that pool of blood growing larger by the minute.
“I’ll take care of him,” Ghost promises, taking the steps two at a time back to the main level. “But first, I need to make sure you’re safe.”