Twisted Together - Winters Pepper - Страница 37

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Tess sucked in a breath, but there was no flicker of love or comprehension. Rather, her eyes blazed with a hate so pure and piercing, my heart stuttered at the thought of her ever looking at me that way in reality.

I wished I could enter her mind and see which asshole haunted her.

My hands curled at the thought of the man, Smith. The cocksucker responsible. His heart now rested under a rose bush, his body torn to pieces and burned. Or did she see the man who’d raped the girl beside her, earning the wrath of Franco cutting off his cock. Either way—it didn’t matter.

She was in hell—so the fuck was I.

This was my burden. I was the reason she was broken. I was the reason she’d lost so much. And I was the only one who could bring her back. And I had to do it before…

I don’t know how long I have to fix her.

The thought slipped through my carefully fortified defences. I refused to think so morbidly—but I couldn’t lie to myself. They were coming. And I had no intention of leaving Tess like this if they achieved what they wanted.

Are you ready to do this?

Never. But I moved forward anyway. Tess flinched; eyes hazy and unfocused. She hadn’t looked around the room or asked where she was. None of that mattered because all she cared about was freedom. Freedom from a third kidnapping and pain.

I wanted to scream: ‘whoever you see in your head—they’re dead. I slaughtered them. Their blood stains my hands.’

But I didn’t. She had to believe this was true. She had to give in completely.

Now. Do it now. I didn’t know how long the pill would last. I had a lot to accomplish before it ended.

With trembling hands, I reached above and undid the fastening. I’d strung her from a low hanging chandelier—deliberately drawing all the curtains and turning on no lights. I didn’t want Tess to see the room until I was ready. Once she returned to me—then she’d understand.

I pulled the cord around her wrists; she stumbled forward. Her body landed on mine and I groaned as her breasts squished against my chest. So soft. So pure. So fucking perfect.

My heart bucked with need. I would’ve given anything to be able to tackle her to the floor and drive myself inside. To take and give and consume and adore.

I swallowed hard as my eyes landed on her pussy. My mouth watered to taste her—to dip my tongue inside. She’d been wet, soaking before.

I’d wanted to make her come. I’d wanted to give her one burst of pleasure before the drugs stole her, but I’d been too slow.

Now, it was up to me to be a bastard all in the name of curing her. I had one chance at breaking her nightmares, and I refused to fuck it up.

Yanking the rope, I dragged her forward. She moaned in pain as blood rushed back from having her arms up for so long.

“Stop bitching.” My cock ached. Fuck, it ached. Everything about what I did called to the monster. Tess’s fear clogged my nostrils, making it so damn hard to remember I was doing this for her. Not for me.

“So you’re the master who doesn’t let himself play.” Smith’s voice slammed into my head. It didn’t matter I’d stolen his heart—he’d come to destroy me.

My back locked straight as I growled under my breath, repeating what I’d said to him that night. “I’m the man who knows right from wrong.”

“No, you live in denial. One day you’ll see the truth. It will happen. You can’t ignore who you truly are forever. One day the decision won’t be yours anymore, and when that happens operations like ours will be your saving grace.”

Fuck.

I couldn’t live like this much longer. I couldn’t live so torn.

I clutched my head, sucking in greedy breaths, forcing my mind to fill with images. Images I deliberately blocked from my past.

“Do you want a taste, Quincy? You keep sneaking into rooms you’re forbidden to fucking go, all because you want a piece of pussy?” My father motioned me forward with his free hand, while his other thrust thick fingers into a screaming blonde.

My ten-year-old stomach threatened to evict the cherry pie Mrs. Sucre had made me, but if my father told me to do something, I had no choice but to do it.

Inching across the carpet, my eyes fell on a tangled mess of hair and limbs. A girl. Skin that should’ve been dusky and pink was now grey and lifeless. Even her blood had turned from bright red to brown.

My feet reeled backward, faster and faster. “No!” I screamed. “I’ll never be like you. I’ll never touch a girl like you!”

My father laughed. It started as a chuckle but grew and grew until it felt as if the entire room shook with corruption. “You’re wrong, boy. You have my blood in your veins. You’ll grow up needing exactly what I need. And there’s nothing you can do to fucking stop it.”

Hitting the blonde so hard she fell onto her knees, he held out his hand again. “Now, come. Take your place as my son and heir. Come and play with your subjects like a good Mercer boy. I’ll even let you fuck one of them.”

I ran.

I ran away from my father. I ran away from any hope at having a mentor in my life. I ran to my mother, only to find she’d drunk herself into a stupor.

I found out later she drank to drown out the screams. She committed suicide by alcohol all to forget what her husband did down the hall. Leaving her son to fend for himself.

The memory shattered, and I stumbled to the side. I’d never had a flashback—such an intense recollection come to life. I fucking hated it.

But the glacial disgust and hatred I’d felt that day lodged itself in my chest, granting me a defence against the dark whispers in my head. I didn’t need to make an oath not to hurt Tess. Sheer repugnance of what lineage I’d come from would do that.

Tess kept her chin down, either accepting her fate or acting like the docile prisoner. I didn’t trust her one bit. Not after her strength in the hotel. Fuck she was wild. And beautiful, so mouth-wateringly beautiful.

She’d fought me like I’d always wished to be fought. With the abandonment of sheer survival. She would’ve gladly taken my life—or given up her own in order to win.

Was she strong enough to survive this? Was I strong enough to step into the role as trafficking asshole and come out on the other side intact?

The questions were irrelevant. I had to be.

I am.

“Come,” I growled, tugging on the binds.

Tess’s head snapped up, eyes blazing grey fire. “Just kill me. I’m done playing your games. You had your fun and now I refuse.”

Hearing her strength mixed with equal terror made my heart shoot out of my chest and splat against her feet.

I wanted to caress her cheek and murmur, ‘Don’t be strong. Don’t fight. It will be easier to hit rock bottom if you just let yourself slide.’

But Tess would never just give up. She might want to. She might think she had. But she didn’t know herself like I did.

She would never stop fighting. And I needed to teach her how, so I could build her up again.

Forgive me.

Gritting my teeth, I cuffed her around the side of the head. My cock thickened, throbbed.

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t touch me!”

It was pain she hated. Pain was the catalyst in this mess. I had to use pain against her.

Fuck! I struck her again, this time hard enough to knock her to her knees. She swayed but shook her head, snarling, “Back to your old tricks? Back to beating up women because that’s the only way you get off? You’re sick!” She spat on the floor, her saliva mixed with a small tinge of blood. “Just sell me already, at least a new master will know how to fuck.”

Her tirade tore my chest open. How dark was her mind? How much blackness did she keep hidden in that angelic face?

Squatting on my haunches, I grabbed her chin, glaring into her eyes. “Do you want to be fucked? Is that it? You want a master who will abuse you and give no shit to your happiness or humanity?”

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