“No!” I surge up, reaching for his face. Holding it between my hands, I let his warm skin and scratchy stubble ground me. “You're mine, Tennant. I love you. I…I want this with you. I want to try. To be better for you, and with you. I don't know how to do it, but please…don't…don't…”
“Shhh. It will never be my choice, Topolino. You're the one with the power to take me out; you always have been.”
“I love you.”
He presses our lips together, kissing me fiercely. “I know.”
Those two words…they're better than a declaration of love, because it tells me he hears me, that he might hate the feeling and the word, but he won't deny my claim to him.
I just hope it's enough…otherwise, he might just finish the job he started in my bedroom, because my life is nothing without him.
He helps me get comfortable on the bed again, then presses the button to release the pain meds.
“Sleep, Topolino. I'll be here with you.” He threads our fingers together, and we stare at one another until I can't hold my eyes open anymore.
I let his love carry me into sleep, feeling safe and praying I never have to let this feeling go. It'd be so much easier if we could stay here, just like this. But maybe…just maybe…we can make this work. Somehow. I'll die trying at least.
The Senator’s smile twists into a sneer as he takes in mine and Roman’s clasped hands. However, I refuse to let go. Instead, I stare at him unwaveringly, thrusting out my chin and refusing to cower. I did not survive everything I’ve gone through to fold to this man. I am Death, the co-ruler of the Council, and my Daddy’s Little Monster. Fuck this guy.
“The problem with children is…no matter how well you raise them, you’re stuck with genetics that aren’t purely yours. And it leads to flaws. In this case, my daughter chose to use sexual torture on you two deviants…which is weak. It’s ineffective with faggots like you. You get too much pleasure from it. I see I’ll have to once again correct her errors.”
“You sound like you’ve never met the joy of your prostate,” Roman quips. I can’t hold back a snort, but fuck, my friend has balls. I’m not sure I’d be that courageous, but hell…
“You’re sickening,” the Senator sneers.
I roll my eyes before yawning. “Seriously? Such a tiring rhetoric. I’m going to agree with Roman. You know…if men don’t do it for you, you could always go with pegging.”
“He wouldn’t know what to do with a woman either, to be fair. I’m surprised he even has kids.” I choke at Roman’s words. Fuck, my friend can be brutal. From the reddening of the Senator’s face, it’s a direct hit.
The Senator snaps his fingers and two guards rush in. I almost roll my eyes at the man’s high-handed attitude. Hell, who the fuck does he think he is? Not even Il Padrone acted like that. He leans closer to us, yet he's still so far away, and snarls, “You’ll regret your attitude. You should be bowing to me. I will be in charge of everything by the time I’m done. Cecily may not have known what to do with you, but I do. She was too weak to send out the copies of your deviancy to anyone other than your precious family. I’m not. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure there’s another video to add to the collection. Let’s see you try to buy your way out of this media attention.”
He stalks off and I exchange a glance with Roman. His jaw is bunched tight, but all I can think about is that I already don’t know how I’m going to face Hollis after I raped someone…but to have the entire world know too? There are some things money can’t erase, and while public opinion can be manipulated to a certain degree…some things are irrefutable, even if it doesn’t show the truth.
Roman and I are unceremoniously hauled off after him by the guards. Sadly, it’s into a room I’m all too familiar with. The video camera is still set up, but instead of a bed, there’s now a chair in the middle of the room. One with locks attached. I do spy torture instruments, which would normally make me happy, but I have a really bad feeling about this shit.
I’m kept in the guard’s grasp, while Roman is thrust onto the chair and strapped down. The Senator nods approvingly before turning toward me. He doesn’t say a word, just stares in anticipation. The tension ramps up, and I can’t help but break the stifling silence.
“What do you want from us?” My voice isn’t as harsh as I’d like it to be, and from his smirk, even the Senator can hear the thread of fear in it. Fuck.
He gestures to the table of instruments like a fucking game show host. “Soon I’ll let you out of those chains, and you can demonstrate on your friend the lessons you learned from your ‘master’. Give us a show so that people can see who you really are. I’m tired of people buying the narrative that, despite your shadowy organization, you manage to do good. We are not the good guys. I have no desire to rule with those limitations, and in order to embrace that, first I must tear down the falsehoods you’ve spread. I imagine, since you’re the so-called Death, you excel at torture…”
His eyes take on a maniacal appearance, lighting up with bloodlust. Normally, I’m all for bloodlust, but fuck this. I’m not torturing my stabby soulmate. Growling, I snap out, “Fuck you.”
I break out in goosebumps at his gaze, it’s too…sexual, despite what he says about homosexuality. With a regretful sigh, he shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t work for me. You’d enjoy it too much. This is far better. You can’t tell me Death doesn’t know anything about torture. The only smart thing you did was getting rid of the old Bosses, especially ones who come up with such…adorable nicknames.”
Hissing, I glare at the asshole. “Hey! I get that nobody loves you, but Il Padrone took the time to get to know each and every one of us. Those ‘nicknames’ are fucking meaningful, and if it’s the last thing I do, you’ll understand exactly why I’m called Death.”
Roman hasn’t said anything, but I can sense his restlessness as he tests the locks holding him in position. Unfortunately, from the corner of my eye, I can tell they’ve done a good job. I don’t want to hurt him, but fuck. There has to be a way around this. Hell, I’d rather it be me in the chair—this will fucking kill me. Fuck, letting me live afterward is crueler than taking a gun to my head.
“Let me put it this way… If you don’t do it, I’ll shoot him. Now, there’s a chance I won’t kill him outright. But anything I do won’t be treated. Anything you do, will. So, if you want him to survive…” He leaves the words hanging there as sweat beads across my forehead.
I don’t know what the fuck to do. This…this is going to kill my soul. He may as well have asked me to cut my own arm off—hell, that would have been fucking kinder.
I swallow as I turn to look at one of my best friends, the man who has come to mean more to me lately than I ever expected. Fuck, if that's not love. The type that’s deep enough that maybe it can survive this, if only I’m able to live through it myself. And right now, as I stare into his eyes, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again.
To hurt this man—my fellow Boss, a twin flame to my soul—is impossible. Yet, somehow, I’m not being given a choice, because a world without Roman shouldn’t exist. Not when he brings so much beauty to it.
“Go ahead,” Roman says softly, a wealth of understanding between us. “I’d rather go through this with you than anyone else. Do what you need to. And remember, at the end of it, we’ll burn this motherfucker down.”
