Page 119 of Ignis Fatuus


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Lenny’s fingers flex against my palm as he calmly says, “She no longer belongs to you. Her punishments and her teachings are to be administered according to us.”

Save me.

Kill me.

Don’t leave me here again.

The literal motherfucker ignores them both as we enter the house. His shoes tap along the hallway until he reaches his lover. “Mother, I apologize for failing you.”

I’m thankful for the hood when the wet noises begin as I’m marched closer to them. Fucking sick cunts. Is Kane seeing this? Was he one of the people in the masks, like when she made me think he was dead?

Yeah, he will be. This is just part of his plan. I hate him for not telling me, but I can live with hating him as long as I have someone who isn’t going to torture me.

Lennox doesn’t say anything as he walks me up the spiral staircase to the room I hate. He sits me on the bed, then closes the door. The zip ties around my wrists are cutting into my skin but I lift my bound hands to remove the hood, and the worry on his face does not help my mood. “Where’s Kane?” I ask, searching the room. “Did he stay downstairs?”

He gives me a small, sad smile as he walks over to me. Lowering to his haunches, he lays his gloved hand on my bound ones as he whispers, “I’m sorry, little doe.”

“No,” I snap, refusing to accept any fucking condolences for someone who’s alive, but it’s worse than death when he looks at my stomach. “She found out after you left. I wasn’t aware she removed your contraception.”

I don’t listen to whatever lie he wants to spout. I’m on birth control. I’d know if someone invaded my body to remove it. I’d feel different. I’d have to, so I grit, “Where. Is. Kane?”

“I don’t know,” he says softly, like it’ll be enough to stop my heart shattering.

“Lenny. Find my husband now!” He doesn’t stop staring at my stomach, even as I cross my arms, covering my body. “It’s not true.”

“It is, little doe.” He finally meets my eyes. “Your contraception was removed while you were receiving your punishment, and you were injected with the prenatal drugs. If I was aware, I would have helped you.”

My jaw quivers as I beg, “Get it out. I won’t give her my baby again.”

53

KANE

Idefinitely have a broken rib as I stumble into one of Niko’s clubs, hugging my side. I don’t know the criminals he works with well enough to know their names while they stare at me, but I manage to get myself to the bar as bass vibrates through my aching body.

Pressing my hand to the bar top, I shout over the music, “I need Niko!”

The woman pouring a drink looks at me, then to the side where I’m sure security are watching. Fuck, I can’t stand anymore. Not after the beating I took in the warehouse or being left on the side of a dusty ass road and walking miles to get here.

Thankfully, my new ally, Vlad, was kind enough to drop me off at the closest point to Niko’s family’s territory after giving me directions, the arrogant fucking prick. My phone is fucked so I can’t even call him to find out where he is. I’m sure I have a concussion somewhere on my long list of injuries too, but I slam my hand against the bar top, repeating, “Niko! Your boss. Get him.”

A familiar voice pipes up behind me. “Baby Xandros?”

I only manage to turn my head enough to see Scarlet, making my stomach lurch. Her eyes widen at whatever state I’m in, but she stops security from causing more injuries as she wraps her arm around my waist. “I know him. Help me take him into the office.”

They keep me on my feet as they guide me through the crowd celebrating fuck knows what. Once we’re inside Niko’s office, she shoos the security away.

“He’s got her again,” I admit, bracing for an attack. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop it.”

Her face falls, all bravado lost as she pales. “You know everything?”

My confirmation is slow, a meager fucking nod.

With her hand trembling, she locks the door then slides down it, bringing her knees up to her chest. “Kane.” She lightly rocks her head against the door. “You were supposed to protect her.”

“Do you think I don’t fucking know that?”

Scarlet doesn’t scream at me for my tone, a sign of how well and truly fucked I am.