Page 72 of Serpent & Saviors

The minute it dropped from my fingers, I wretched. Too bad he hadn’t used a ball-gag on me, or I would have opted to throw my head back and let asphyxiation take me. He yanked the blindfold off.

“One more thing to go.”

My hair was tangled now, hanging in my face. But seeing the mess my clothes were in—the red streaks, tissue, and hair covering me—was too much. I dry heaved violently and tilted my head back. Fuck it. He yanked my head and shoved it forward. Simultaneously, he yanked the gag down, and the contents that had gathered in my mouth ended up on the floor.

“You stupid fucking bitch,” he screamed in my face.

His fingers worked the knots loose. Before I could move, he jerked me upright, hard enough that the room tilted. My knees buckled, but his grip held. The light caught the spikes, and metal flashed—brief, sharp, almost blinding. Unable to cope with whatever was next in this hellish nightmare, the world folded in on itself; the edges dimmed until there was nothing left to hold on to.

A sharp sting roused me, and I stumbled. My head lolled, heavy and useless. He dragged my body across the floor.

Where was I?

When the blur thinned enough to see, the ceiling spun above me. My arms hung useless at my sides, my feet dragging along the floor. Every jolt sent a pulse of pain through my body. The sound of my trainers knocking against each step echoed with my heartbeat.

The smell hit before the cold did. It was stale and damp. I half expected the Mask or the Collector to appear. With a grunt, he heaved my body onto the floor. My shoulder struck the wall once, twice, and pain lanced through the fog. Then, cold stone pressed against my cheek. We’d reached the bottom. The basement waited. The place where screams didn’t carry. He unlocked the door and pushed me inside.

“All that is left is for you to carry out the final act of your confession. I’ll be watching. Don’t disappoint me again.”

He hefted me up once more, and with one final shove—the door closed behind me. The sickening thud echoed all around. God, how I hated this room. It mocked me, and I wanted to scream.

Cameron had re-created down to the last detail the beach themed prison from my childhood hell. On one side of the room, an oceanic mural decorated the wall. The full-sized bed was turquoise and had a large coral-colored shell-shaped headboard.

It was complete with a tulle shade that hung from the top of the ceiling and draped loosely around the bed. There was a mini sofa with a white vanity and a small desk. When the bright lights were on, it made this side seem innocent and cheerful.

On the other side, it resembled X’s torture chamber. I hadn’t been as detailed in that part of my journaling, so some things were different, but the basics were there. A pulley system with chains, eye bolts embedded into the concrete and walls. And a cabinet with instruments of torture. This side was always dimly lit and dirty. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to still the need to vomit again.

I tuned out that Jenny’s blood covered my pants and hands. My heart pounded like a trapped bird’s frantic wings. A moan drew my attention, and cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I hugged my arms around myself. The room’s chill seeped into my skin. I was having a hard time adjusting. I’d let myself believe and hope again, and this was my punishment.

Cameron heard everything. I was so glad I hadn’t told Andrew and Pasha that Declan wasn’t Cameron’s. The truth would come out. I’d scrawled it across the back of that purple kitten stationery. Hopefully, it would be enough to save him. I’d more than likely be dead by the time someone found it. I only hoped Andrew would rise above his fear and fight for him.

I didn’t want to think of the alternative. The groaning became louder, and I whipped my head in the direction. It was coming from the torture side. Fumbling along the walls, I searched for the source of light. I flicked the switch, and nothing happened. Cameron’s threats and his basic plan echoed in my ears.

What he didn’t understand was that I couldn’t do it. I copied the suicide note as he requested, but the final act of killing Jenny…would not be on me. Unlike on that hot summer day when the Mask held my head underwater, I couldn’t subject Jenny to that. There was no way to free her; this much I knew.

From the sound of things, it was too late anyway. There was no freeing myself either. I shivered as the contents of the box flashed through my head. She and I would die here in this room, but at least she wouldn’t die alone. Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of powerlessness crushed me. I raced over and called out. My voice sounded fragile and weak.

“Jenny.” I recoiled as I rolled her over.

She was unrecognizable, her face was a massive bloody wound. Several teeth were missing, and from the angle of her nose, I knew he had broken it. A blood-soaked blindfold covered her eyes. I worked to untie her, my fingers slipping on the bloody rope.

Once I had her free, I gathered her in my arms and sobbed, apologizing over and over. How she was even still alive was beyond me. I rocked her in my arms, trying to at least comfort her in some small way. Her breaths came in quick, uneven gasps, and I could tell she wouldn’t last much longer.

My eyes fell on the tub, which was filled with water. I opened my mouth and let out a scream.

The door to the suite closed softly behind me. I took a deep breath, trying to control my emotions. Nothing could have prepared me for the shock of Victoria’s actions. Self-hatred raged inside me.

That I’d handed her the ability to destroy me and then watched her do it without a single shred of remorse or hesitation killed any last remnant of confidence that remained.

How could I have been so fucking stupid?

I needed a drink. Now. It didn’t matter that it was only 10:30 in the morning. At least I’d opted for a late checkout. Pouring myself a large glass, I sat on the couch and let the reality sink in. Thirty minutes later, with no relief in sight, I stood and made my way to the bar once more. I filled the glass again and stared down at it.

What the hell was I going to do now?

In my mind, I had this fantasy. I’d bring her home; the girls would fall in love with her, and we’d what? My mind taunted me like the idiot I was. I fought to chase the darkness away. The worthless feelings of disgust didn’t want to let go.

With my eyes closed, memories of her face tormented me. The short time we’d spent together had meant something. At least it had for me. I wracked my brain trying to find where I had missed the signs that she was playing me.