Celeste’s fingers slide into Will’s hair, wrenching his head back. The pain on his face is exquisite.
“What did you tell me while you were raping me?” Liv pauses momentarily to ask him. “The pain is your punishment for being such a whore.” She shoves the needle in again and Will begins to choke on his own saliva, coughing and howling. Blood seeps from his cock and I cringe slightly at the sight. Ouch. “Well, an eye for an eye, Will.”
The two women laugh as they withdraw the needle. Will slumps forward in his chair. His breathing is shallow but steady. His lap is covered in blood. But he’s not finished, not yet.
Luke steps forward with a knife in his hand. He’s trembling slightly and I worry he won’t be able to go through with it. No matter how strong you are, the scars of your past can’t be outrun. I turn my eyes away, unable to watch as Luke brings the serrated blade to Will’s wounded member. The sounds are enough—flesh tearing, excruciating cries, ripping tendons.
Horror. Horror. Horror.
When I finally sneak a glance back at the scene, Will seems to have gone completely unconscious. His entire lap is soaking in a puddle of blood. His severed cock is being shoved down his throat as Liv grips his hair to hold his head back while Luke slides the bleeding member into his mouth.
“You told me once that you loved watching me choke on dick,” Luke snarls at his foster brother’s unconscious form. “How’s it taste, brother?”
Celeste rips a piece of duct tape off the roll, using it to cover Will’s lips and seal the bloody dick inside. Another strip is added, then another, and another, until his entire nose and mouth are covered.
Will’s body starts to jerk. He’s been through too much to truly regain consciousness, but it doesn’t stop the more primal parts of him from fighting to survive. His muscles begin to spasm as his body fights for air that he can’t get in. It’s a simple but effective way to kill a man. We watch in silence, hands covered in blood, as Will’s body spasms, before eventually falling still. A dark sense of peacefulness fills the room as his shitty soul leaves this world.
“It’s done,” Luke finally says, breaking the silence. “He’s gone.”
We all let out a sigh of relief, knowing that he can never hurt another person again.
“Now, for my pal, Brody,” I sneer as I turn.
The flashlight beam flies across the floor to the spot where we left Brody whining and whimpering. But now, there’s only a pool of drying blood.
“Wait,” Celeste says, her tone filled with concern. “Where’s Ali?”
THIRTY-FIVE
Allison
“Move your fucking feet, bitch,” Brody growls as he drags me down the hallway by my hair.
I stumble over my own shoes; the darkness closing in on me as I try to calm my own racing heart. We head deeper into the house, into the darkness. The only light comes from the flashing pulse of purple on my mask.
“Let me go,” I choke out as I claw at his thick fingers twisted in my hair.
“Never,” he snarls as he drags me up a flight of stairs. “You’remy wife. My fucking property. You vowed to honor and obeyme. Me! You’re mine! So, obey me or I will put a bullet in your fucking skull.”
I can feel the sticky warmth of his blood sliding down his arm and pooling in my hair. He’s hurt, but not enough to stop him from dragging me down the upstairs hallway toward a series of doors.
“His fucking computers must be around here somewhere,” Brody mumbles to himself as he starts opening doors.
Clearly, we’re here to try to delete the evidence they have linking Brody to any of this, but I doubt this asshole is smart enough to undo what Garett has done. Just the thought of Garett has me aching to cry out, to break free and run to him, to wrap myself around him and never let him go. His strength, his warmth, his darkness, his intensity—I want it all. I want every piece of him he’s willing to give me. But Brody has a gun, and if I cry out, Garett will come running. I won’t risk him getting hurt for me.
“Here,” Brody cheers when we finally enter the room full of monitors.
The light of the screens is a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the house. I blink to adjust to the brightness. This room must have a backup generator to prevent shut down during power failures or something. Normally, that would be smart. Right now, it’s not ideal. My eyes slide to the side of the room where the large closet is located. The cabinet door is open. I know there are weapons in there; if I can just get to one…
“Don’t fucking move.” My husband’s low and clipped tone tells me he’s not playing around as he releases my hair and pulls the gun from his waistband. He aims it straight at my head. “I’m deleting this shit and we’re getting the hell out of here.”
Something pricks at my nose. The scent of smoke fills the air.
“Why do you even care if I’m with you?” I ask as he beginstyping away on the keys, attempting to gain access. “You’ve been cheating on me for months. Just run off with one of your girlfriends and let me be!”
He stops at my words, spinning slowly to face me with a smirk on his face. His normally slicked back blond hair is astray, pieces are sticking up at awkward angles. His dark eyes glow with something I’ve rarely seen in him before. A lump forms in my throat and I try to take a step away, but he moves quicker. He closes the distance between us, holding the barrel of the gun firmly to my temple.
“Months?” he tsks with false pity. “I’ve been cheating on you for years. Since before we were married, even.”
