Page 35 of The Price Of Possession

The steel doors swing open and I keep my head held high showing no weakness. Vesper's soft cries behind me reach my ears even over the loud staccato of chatter and sexual cries of pain and ecstasy. They drill into her like a hungry predator. Just like before, we are led to the back with the older woman. She beams when she spots me again.

“I knew you would be back, darling,” she coos. Mortensen leaves us with her, though I know whatever he has planned is far from over.

The older woman snaps her fingers beckoning someone over from the shadows. A younger woman emerges from the curtains. The woman whisks Vesper away to the far corner without a word. Her pleading eyes are the last thing I see before I, too, am taken to my own corner and shoved into the tufted stools just like before.

The older woman does a once over, raking her eyes over my body. She slides a few pills along the chipped wooden vanity in front of me. I exhale knowing fighting who I am is fruitless. With shaky hands, I dry swallow the pills hoping the pain will fade soon enough. My mind drifts back to Vesper. She's never done drugs, at least I don't think. She's not cut out for this. Before I can formulate any escape plan, the older woman comes back with a black lace high waisted thong and matching bra in hand.

I wordlessly undress knowing they'll see the gauze patched along my stomach. I'm ashamed to have his name etched in my skin like a form of ownership. I step gingerly out of Kieran's clothes. The old woman pauses from the corner as my shirt drifts over my body, lingering on my stomach.

“Stop,” she commands. I still. She rushes back through the curtain toward the Void as I stand naked, cold, and devoid of any emotion. A few moments later Mortensen steps through the threshold with wide eyes, aghast. His face turns to pure revulsion.

“What is this?” I shuffle my feet along the cold dusty floor. I say nothing as I peel back the bandages, wincing as they stick along my sore, scabbed skin. I grit my teeth at Kieran being right about the ointment and gauze. How he knows and I wish I had listened.

“He marked your skin?” he says with measured appreciation. His eyes skim my body as he circles me. With each ticking second his temperament changes from galvanization to lividity. “I am at least pleased to see my methods have made him equally harsh, but—” he tsks. “—you are now tainted. What to do with you,” he hums.

His brows rise. “I suppose you are still usable by our . . . select Elites,” he says slowly.

I refuse to meet his gaze, not wanting to know what that entails, though I think I already know. He waves his hands frantically before passing through the curtain and back into the Void. The older woman returns. She fusses with my hair and makeup, painting me like a doll. The voices in my head scream at me to run, but I'm frozen staring back at the broken reflection in front of me. The background noise drowns out and I know the pills are starting to take hold, suctioning to my cells.

I watch helplessly as she applies bright pink lipstick to my lips. The bristles of the makeup brush dance along my cheek, tickling my skin. She paints a heavy dark eyeshadow over my lids, hiding my drugged-out state. As if these Elites give a shit about outward appearance. They just want pleasure to dull their senses. My eyelids grow heavy. I struggle to fight the feeling. She pinches my cheeks. “You're such a beauty. You'll fit in so well,” she preens. Then the room goes dark.

Thank fuck I have a GPS implanted in my Bugatti. I swipe open the app while I wait for Zain. Before it even loads, he rolls up in his Lincoln Continental looking furious as fuck. I jump in the passenger's seat without giving him a moment to ask questions. His neck snaps in my direction.

“I at least owe you my help,” he growls reluctantly.

I wear a shit-eating grin. “That's my boy.” I slap his shoulder as he speeds off.

My focus jumps back to the task at hand. The app finally loads and my stomach drops. She went to Zain's. To be with Vesper no doubt. That's her only lifeline. “Go to your house. NOW,” I bark. He punches the gas pedal, and I fill him in on the drive. I'm internally kicking myself for making Zain rush over. If I hadn't been impatient Zain could have held her at bay until I got there. Now I have to worry Vesper will hide her from me, and that sure as shit isn't happening.

Zain has the wheel in a death grip. His gaze wanders over to me. “You're impulsive as fuck. Did you even try to talk to her before you locked her in an ossuary?!” he grinds out in disbelief. The car weaves through the side streets with practiced precision. I snarl. “Fuck you, alright? And talking? You're the one to talk. Don't act all high and mighty, man. If I remember right, you’re the one who had a drugged, passed out Vesper in your bedroom, who might I add, also tried to run away from you!” I bite back.

He glowers. “You know that was different.” His eyes fall back onto the road. I scoff. Different my ass. I watched from the sidelines as he slowly unraveled, going insane as he stalked her. He was dead set on ruining her fragile existence like a psychopath. So different? Nah, he's just in denial. He has far less to lose than I do over this shit.

I slam my fist on the dashboard. “No! That wasn't any different! You have no idea the shit at stake here! This is my life on the line. You have no idea how fucked up these Elites are. How fucked up Mortensen is. They're gonna eat her alive in the Void.” His brows raise, challenging me. “And you're not doing exactly that? Using her for your own benefit? Plus, the threat is neutralized. You said yourself Mortensen buried the hatchet with Jax's family, the Andersons."

The fuckers got me there. I am pissed. I do want to use her for my own selfish gain. I'm not even remotely sorry for it. My teeth grind against my tongue ring. As far as the whole Jax thing, it has yet to resurface. Maybe it is dead and buried. Literally and figuratively. I just can't trust a thing out of Mortensen's mouth.

He clicks his tongue. “Knew it. So predictable. Too easy to read.” He shakes his head.

I scrub my hands down my face. “What the hell does that even mean, man. I have my shit together.”

His eyes stay trained on the road. He swerves in and out of traffic. “It means you never think. That's how she got away in the first place. Can you let her go? What the hell is your fascination with her, anyway? If she doesn't wanna be helped, it isn't our fault. I can tell Vesper we did everything we could. I didn't mean for you to get involved this deep.”

I'm raging. I want to punch something. If he never wanted me this invested he shouldn't have caused these chain of events to unfold, leaving me to pick up the pieces. But again, he hits the nail on the head. The fucker. That is exactly how she got away. I let Mortensen get to me so I drowned in the bottle just to refrain from my responsibilities yet again. Bad timing, I guess. As far as letting her go, not a chance in hell. She is a volatile reflection of myself. Where I crave destruction, defiance, and saturation of emotions, she demands internal damnation with a side of resistance to feel numb. Somehow, I chase the high she offers with her damaged state. It's intoxicating and addicting.

“This is your fault,” I deflect, shuffling in my seat.

He barrels through the neighborhood taking a sharp turn. “My fault? Vesper wanted Clara saved, sure. At the end of the day, Kieran, if we can't do it, then so be it.” His eyes leave the road to see my reaction.

I'm volatile. Zain knows it. I know it. Everybody knows it. I choose not to react. Before I can get another word in, we skid to a halt in front of his house. The lights are off and my Bugatti is nowhere to be found. I check my app. Yup, it's here all right. She could have ditched it somewhere near the back. That's plausible. She's smart as fuck, I wouldn’t put it past her. I mean hell, she knew well enough to wait until I was piss drunk to escape. That sobered me up quickly. I don't even wait for him to exit before I'm barreling through his front door.

“Vesper? Clara?” I round the corner, circling the main level. All is quiet without a soul around. Zain shoots through the door with pure terror written on his face. That isn't like him. He's good at keeping his shit in check, but when it comes to his girl, nothing is off the table.

He takes the staircase two at a time, flying into his bedroom. He kicks open every door just to come up empty. I wait at the bottom of the steps knowing exactly where they are. His eyes drill into me. He grips the banister at the top of the stairs. “Fuck!” he screams plastering a new hole in the freshly painted walls.

Mortensen. He's gotta be behind this. He knew I took Clara from the Void, what I don't understand is how Vesper plays into all of this. Why would he want her? Is this some revenge scheme to force me into submission? To force Zain to comply? He knows I don't give a shit about Vesp. Not the way Zain does.

“I'll drive,” I say, noting how heated Zain is. Plus, he doesn't even have a clue where the Void is. He tosses the keys to me as he trudges down the staircase. I spin on my heels and sprint to the car. Zain jumps into the passenger's seat while I sink into the driver's seat. His lips are knitted in a tight line.