Chapter 28
Agony unlike nothing I’ve experienced before rips through me. The searing pain shoots down every nerve ending, travelling to the tips of my fingers and toes. The former is restrained above me and rapidly losing blood flow, the cold from lack of circulation making the pain more acute.
Richmond growls a feral sound of satisfaction from behind me, blade slicing into the flesh of my tattoo once more. “Break,” he snarls.
Never.
This woman-beating motherfucker isn’t interested in my screams. It’s my tears he wants, and he isn’t worthy of those.
A wail rips from my throat, shredding the cords until they burn. I swear he’s stabbed me this time out of sheer frustration at my stubbornness.
Sweat trails down the side of my face, dripping from the bottom of my jaw onto my naked chest. The red shorts are saturated in blood.
It travels down my legs, collecting in an ever-growing pool beneath my near-dangling feet.
The chain connecting me to the beam that spans the length of the room rattles as my toes try to inch me away from the lethally sharp point of that obscenely large knife.
Three loud bangs on the metal door halt Richmond in his tracks.
He grumbles under his breath, abandoning my quaking form to disengage the heavy lock.
The screech of the hinges is loud, but I don’t have the energy to lift my head.
Now that my attention isn’t on the next strike, I’m crashing, blackness invading my sight.
“How’s it going?” Maximus asks, his voice unfortunately becoming familiar.
“Slow,” Richmond replies. “But we’ll get there. Won’t we, sugar?”
“Go fuck yourself,” I mumble.
Maximus barks a laugh, the sound loud and sharp, reverberating around the cell. “Well, Mr. Morgan, do you like what you see?”
A third voice hums its reply. “Is she newly purchased?”
“Just brought in this morning. A little spitfire. As you’re looking for, I presume?”
Silence lingers too long before the third voice picks up again. “May I?”
“Of course.”
“Alone.” The unknown man’s voice is authoritative—clipped, like he expects to be complied with.
“Certainly,” Maximus replies. “Richmond, let’s step outside for a moment.”
Footsteps cross the room, the sound of the closing door sending a chill down my spine. Who am I alone with now?
I’m being watched, I can feel it. Every ounce of energy I have left slides across my skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. My ears strain to hear, but nothing comes through over the sound of my own laboured breathing.
Suddenly, the dark hair cascading around my face is fisted, head jerked back from the force. “I asked you a question,” a voice deeper than any heard thus far rumbles, hot minty breath fanning across my face.
Unfortunately, I don’t recall being talked to.
Did I pass out?
A warm palm slaps my cheek. Not hard, but jarring. I force my eyelids to raise, blurry vision clearing.
When the world reappears around me, I’m gazing up into the most hauntingly gorgeous set of eyes I’ve ever seen.
His dark eyelashes are long and thick, the kind every woman on the planet would be jealous of. Irises the colour of obsidian watch me, stalling my shallow breaths.
What’s someone like him doing in a place like this?
“Answer me, or I’ll use all this blood you’re spilling as lube to fuck that cunt before anyone else can.”
Well, I guess that answers my question.
He’s one of them.
“Hmm?” I murmur, hoping he will repeat himself without any annoyance.
“Your name,” he demands. The sound travels across my rapidly cooling skin like a promise he’ll follow through on his threat. “What is it?”
“D-does it matter?” I cough. “In here I’m just a number.” His onyx hair is disheveled, strands grazing his tanned cheeks as he observes me. Everything about him is dark. His clothes. His features. The cloud around him. He’s a living shadow, towering above me by almost a full foot of height.
“Why was he cutting you?”
I chuff out a laugh. “‘Cause he’s a sadistic lapdog.”
The man’s eyebrows quirk up at that, something glinting in his devouring gaze. “Did you cause a problem?” His voice lifts, amusement evident in his tone. “A fight, perhaps?”
The darkness creeps closer, framing in around this man’s lethal masculine jaw. “Mhmm…” I sigh, trying but failing to catch my breath.
“Did you scream for him?”
Deep breath in. “Unfortunately.” Exhale.
“Cry?”
My lashes flutter, eyes slowly closing as a small smile graces my lips. “Never.”
Though I can’t see him, I feel him, hear him, circling me like a predator.
The warmth of him heats the skin of my throbbing back. He’s close enough that the material of his shirt grazes my wounds with each slight sway of my dangling body.
His large hands land on my hips, moving slowly across my skin. They criss-cross over my abdomen, the touch light and reverent. A gentle lover’s caress.
Abruptly, he crushes me in his embrace. The hard planes of his abdomen flush with my mutilated tattoo.
I can’t prevent the gasp of surprise or the piercing shriek of agony that erupts from me.
With my arms tethered above me, I’m trapped.
There’s no escape as he squeezes me tighter, the buttons of his black button-up shirt finding their way into my wounds, burrowing in to amplify the pain.
My squirming only makes it worse as his fingers dig into my ribs to hold me tighter.
His soft lips brush the shell of my ear as his hard cock presses into me. “Name. Now,” he quietly demands.
“Rose!” I wail.
The sound of the door squeaking open sends a growl rumbling out of him. I sag in relief as he loosens his hold.
“Satisfied?” Maximus inquires.
“Yes,” the man replies. His shirt slowly peels away from my body, flaring pain anew as he whispers, the words flowing out like warm honey, thick and full of promise.
“I’ll be back for you, flower.”