Chapter 18 Cade #2
We don’t get to ask before she stands and walks silently to the other door in the room.
Her back is turned to us longer than is comfortable, but when she emerges, it’s with two trash bags in hand.
Dropping them at our feet, Susie explains, “There’s a small metal trash bin in the back.
” She’s… not going to turn us in. I can feel my mouth part and Bunny’s beside me.
She takes our shock as a sign of confusion and further cements her trust in us.
“To burn those. One less trace of the two of you at that officer's house.”
Fuck.
We left traces of us all over that house. The realization hits Bunny at the same time, but her panic compels me to remain upright. I’m here to protect her. So, I do.
Taking both bags in one hand, I grab Bunny with the other, giving her a secure, confident squeeze to show her I’m here. I got you. Meeting Susie’s gaze, I express my thanks, hoping she can decipher how deeply I mean it. “Thank you.”
Susie doesn’t say anything in response, but her eyes hold the same depth, the same protective nature. I see so many emotions in a single stare—apologies, compassion… sympathy.
All at once, those lessons returned to me.
I think we finally found one of those adults they told us to trust.
Back in the room, I sit on the bed in silence.
Bunny is hiding in the bathroom, either crying in the shower or mentally gone altogether.
Her movements and whimpers stopped a long time ago.
Now, the water runs alone. I should go in there to check on her.
Instead, I fall back and sink into the mattress, reliving the horrors of the day.
Back underground—that’s how I like to think of my time in captivity—I killed out of survival.
Either I took my opponent's life or they’d take mine, or Marone would take it, or, fuck, someone who paid enough would take it.
No matter what, my life was always up for grabs.
So, as time went on, my guilt for taking wouldn’t fade completely, but I told myself I could live with what I’d done.
Now, though, as I lie facing the ceiling, I battle the conscience I thought I silenced long ago.
It began flickering the more I thought of Sophie. I haven’t been able to stop it since.
I remind myself repeatedly that I killed Lakens, not in defense, but out of need. Bunny couldn’t go on with this monster lurking in the shadows. I killed for her. I don’t regret it, but conflict begins to fester in my thoughts. It has a way of sneaking up on you.
To keep myself from being swallowed by it, I take the bag of bloodied, soiled clothes and head to the back of the inn, where the fire rages, ready for me.
I toss one fragment of clothing, one strip at a time, ensuring they’re nothing but ash before adding another to the pile.
When I have nothing left but an empty bag, I throw that in too, losing myself in the melting plastic before heading back into the room.
The shower is still running when the door closes behind me. I harden my spine and soften my features before cracking open the bathroom door. I can’t let her see the effect today had on me. Fuck. I don’t even want to see it myself.
Kill or be killed.
Fucking remember that, Cade.
“It’s done.”
Remaining beneath the spray, Bunny relaxes, stopping my heart with a soft, exhausted smile. “Thank you for taking care of that.”
After shedding the clean clothes I had thrown on, I squeeze into the small shower with her.
My thumbs immediately find the slight dip in her hips and rub in small circles until her lids crack open.
We share the space beneath the pouring water, looking nowhere but in each other’s eyes.
This is one of those few moments, in the midst of all the chaos, where peace is finally allowed to settle over us, so we savor it.
Moving slowly, liquid beneath the current, Bunny licks the water from my lips, her fingers exploring me in the same languid manner.
Raking her fingernails up from my spine, she crosses her hands at my neck, pressing her slippery form against mine.
“I’ve never felt anyone like you,” she whispers into my chest, tracing the long lines of scars that score my skin.
I find them to be a bit more bearable with her touch instead of mine.
When the sensation of her becomes too strong, leaving little electric currents singeing the nerves underneath my skin. “My turn.” I devour her lips with a flick of my tongue, tasting the soap that runs down her face.
“Oh, God,” she breathes, knees buckling.
I keep her up with my hands on her hips, falling to my knees instead.
Water cascades all around us, blanketing us in a white sheet while I pepper kisses up her thigh.
Nails, bitten and broken, scratch against my scalp as she runs her fingers through my curls.
Occasionally, Bunny will brush against a barely healing wound or a scab that never heals, eliciting a minor hiss, but I don’t pull away.
I welcome the pain she inflicts, regardless of its type.
She focuses on one wound primarily, a long, raised strip running from the back of my skull, diagonally to my left ear. In between kissing the softest parts between her thighs, I think of the moment I received that scar, of the heavy concrete slab that split my skull in half.
“Mr. Harris!”
I wake from a sweaty, uncomfortable sleep, confused as to why I’m being called by my name—my actual name.
Hearing it almost tricks me into believing this was just one big, horrible nightmare, just like I always hoped it was.
Then, Marone appears out of the shadows, popping my bubble for the millionth time.
Fear no longer simmers in my stomach acid when he appears. I only feel rage.
That rage transfers to those in proximity—guards, mainly—but today they’re nowhere to be found. An equally polished man stands beside him now.
“Mr. Harris, how are you today?”
Back against the dewy stone wall, I tilt my head in confusion, unsure of how to navigate this sudden pleasantry. I opt to remain silent, face flat, while Marone introduces me to his scowling associate.
“My apologies, Mr. Georgiou. He’s usually very well behaved.
” I bite back the string of curses that wants to spill past my lips, waiting to see where this interaction goes.
It leads Marone closer to me, but not before he double-checks that my wrists are shackled together and my knife is out of sight.
“Mr. Georgiou,” he starts, taking my jaw in a powerful grip, “was really impressed with your demonstration out there and has expressed great interest in you. Isn’t that exciting?
” Digging his nails into the divots of my jaw, Marone forces my head up and down.
“Say yes, Blade. Won’t you be a good dog and say yes? ”
I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes when the pain becomes too much. The constraint becomes too much; my teeth feel like they’re about to crumble under the pressure, but I grind out a short, “Yes,” anyway, just to make it end.
“Good! See!” he exclaims, patting me tenderly on the cheek. “I told you he listens.” You just have to be a little firm with them sometimes, remind them who’s in charge.”
Mr. Georgiou has yet to say a word, but he comes further into the light, examining me and my filthy clothes like a specimen underneath a microscope.
“He looks ill,” he finally utters, voice thick with a dense Mediterranean accent.
“No,” Marone confirms. “He’s healthy as a horse, an undefeated champion. Good for your collection, wouldn’t you say so?”
What? “What are you talking about?” My question goes ignored.
“I don’t know,” Mr. Georgiou proclaims, doubt thick in his tone.
“He looks too… dirty. Impure. I need clean. My clients like clean.” He keeps repeating that.
Clean. Clean. Clean. As if I can help the fucking condition of a cave-like cell.
Blood packs into my pores, as does the dirt crusted between my teeth.
Yes, I’m fucking dirty, and still, I hear whispers of buying and selling.
Property.
Again, I would be someone’s property.
The notion doesn’t frighten me. I doubt anything could be worse than this.
Mr. Georgiou speaks, and I remember it can always get worse from here.
“They prefer boys back home.”
“We prefer the boys back there as well.” They both laugh, howling at the sick and twisted things they do overseas.
“Does he perform well?” Georgiou asks.
“I’ve never tested him out that way before. Would you like to do the honors?” Georgiou removes his tailored jacket the second the offer is on the table. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he begins unbuttoning the first couple of clasps, strolling in my direction.
Fear makes it impossible to stay still, but I fight the urge to lose control altogether.
Be calm, Cade. Be smart. This will only work if you're calm and smart, but ice takes over anyway.
I can rationalize it all I want. I can mull over the split-second idea millions of times, but the ice… takes…over.
I freeze when his hands fall upon my thighs, gripping the torn material of my bottoms in his powerful grasp.
I stay frozen when they are pulled past my ankles.
I’m paralyzed when his hand wraps around me, squeezing and tugging just enough to see how hard I can get. That’s when the shakes begin, entirely out of my control. It isn’t until I feel his tongue that my body slowly starts to become mine again.
My mind suddenly remembers the knives tucked beneath me, my arm working all on its own to retrieve one.
I wish I could have seen it when the dull metal first sliced into Mr. Georgiou’s side, but my arm seems to be the only part of me free.
Still, I feel his scream reverberate around my cock.
It lasts maybe a minute, rising and falling in every octave before it all went silent—not just the shrieks of pain, but the whole world, altogether.
All I remember from that moment is a flash of a concrete slab coming down on the top of my head. I thought my world ended, but when I woke, all was as it was before—only, I looked a little more impure now.
Massaging the strip that is barely healed, Bunny hums a quiet tune. Her fingers trace every discovered scar and fresh wound, from scalp to neck, stopping only to swear, “I’m going to kill him for this.” Eyeing the bullet hole, “And this.”
I don’t doubt Bunny for a second. There’s a fire that rages inside her. It’s the same flame that kept me alive, and though I may no longer need to burn, I will make sure to give her everything she asks for.
Sucking on her pulsing clit, I nod in thanks, vowing to deliver each one of them to her feet.
“Promise?” she asks, out of breath. I respond with a long sweep of my tongue across her opening, swallowing every drop of her juices, with a wide Cheshire grin.
Knees buckling, Bunny lays all her weight on me, trusting that I’ll keep her steady with fingernails embedded into my skin.
My fingers dig into her as well, clenching the soft muscle around her thighs while I spear her pussy.
“Cade!” she pants, still awaiting my response.
Pulling away to blow her primed center, I promise. “On my life.”