Home > Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(44)

Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(44)
Author: Pepper Winters

No one would know….Something slithered in my brain, whispering sickness and want.

She dangled like a feast—surrounded in darkness, drugged out of her mind. I could do anything….

My stomach tensed as desire shot up my spine. It would be so easy to mount and f**k her while hanging from the ceiling. I could be cruel and heartless. I could hurt her the way I wanted with no repercussions. She would never know it was me.

You’d be him. You’d walk straight into fate.

My lips curled; I spat on the floor as a rush of bile filled my mouth. To ever think I was weak enough to become my father made me suicidal with rage.

I would never do that to Tess. No matter how my sick c**k ached.

Locking my knees, I made an oath. A pact with my f**king soul.

Whatever I did here, I would never overstep two boundaries: rape or blood play. If Tess ever became strong enough to endure my needs, completely sane and willing, then I’d give myself some leniency. But not before and definitely not with an unhinged druggie I was trying to save.

Tess’s dilated eyes trained on me, never looking away, despite the haze. “Why—why are you doing this? He’ll come for you again, you know.” Her head dropped as if suddenly too heavy, the drugs sucking her deeper.

I shuddered at the thought of what she’d been through—what I was putting her through once again.

I knew she didn’t see me. She saw them.

The drug did what Franco had said. I’d asked him to find something—a hallucinogenic that lasted a couple of hours. He’d disappeared, returning a little while later with a single yellow pill.

I didn’t know the name of the chemical or even where he got it from. And I fed it to the woman I wanted to grow old with. How f**king irresponsible!

My jaw worked hard, grinding my teeth, flaring a rapidly building headache. I’d fed it to her because I made the choice. A choice I already f**king regretted. But it was done now. The only thing left to do was suffer the consequences.

I snapped my fingers in front of Tess’s face, making sure she was completely consumed by visions. Time to begin.

“Fuck me, I’m going to hell,” I muttered.

Tess sucked in a breath, but there was no flicker of love or comprehension. Rather, her eyes blazed with a hate so pure and piercing, my heart stuttered at the thought of her ever looking at me that way in reality.

I wished I could enter her mind and see which ass**le haunted her.

My hands curled at the thought of the man, Smith. The cocksucker responsible. His heart now rested under a rose bush, his body torn to pieces and burned. Or did she see the man who’d raped the girl beside her, earning the wrath of Franco cutting off his cock. Either way—it didn’t matter.

She was in hell—so the f**k was I.

This was my burden. I was the reason she was broken. I was the reason she’d lost so much. And I was the only one who could bring her back. And I had to do it before…

I don’t know how long I have to fix her.

The thought slipped through my carefully fortified defences. I refused to think so morbidly—but I couldn’t lie to myself. They were coming. And I had no intention of leaving Tess like this if they achieved what they wanted.

Are you ready to do this?

Never. But I moved forward anyway. Tess flinched; eyes hazy and unfocused. She hadn’t looked around the room or asked where she was. None of that mattered because all she cared about was freedom. Freedom from a third kidnapping and pain.

I wanted to scream: ‘whoever you see in your head—they’re dead. I slaughtered them. Their blood stains my hands.’

But I didn’t. She had to believe this was true. She had to give in completely.

Now. Do it now. I didn’t know how long the pill would last. I had a lot to accomplish before it ended.

With trembling hands, I reached above and undid the fastening. I’d strung her from a low hanging chandelier—deliberately drawing all the curtains and turning on no lights. I didn’t want Tess to see the room until I was ready. Once she returned to me—then she’d understand.

I pulled the cord around her wrists; she stumbled forward. Her body landed on mine and I groaned as her br**sts squished against my chest. So soft. So pure. So f**king perfect.

My heart bucked with need. I would’ve given anything to be able to tackle her to the floor and drive myself inside. To take and give and consume and adore.

I swallowed hard as my eyes landed on her pu**y. My mouth watered to taste her—to dip my tongue inside. She’d been wet, soaking before.

I’d wanted to make her come. I’d wanted to give her one burst of pleasure before the drugs stole her, but I’d been too slow.

Now, it was up to me to be a bastard all in the name of curing her. I had one chance at breaking her nightmares, and I refused to f**k it up.

Yanking the rope, I dragged her forward. She moaned in pain as blood rushed back from having her arms up for so long.

“Stop bitching.” My c**k ached. Fuck, it ached. Everything about what I did called to the monster. Tess’s fear clogged my nostrils, making it so damn hard to remember I was doing this for her. Not for me.

“So you’re the master who doesn’t let himself play.” Smith’s voice slammed into my head. It didn’t matter I’d stolen his heart—he’d come to destroy me.

My back locked straight as I growled under my breath, repeating what I’d said to him that night. “I’m the man who knows right from wrong.”

“No, you live in denial. One day you’ll see the truth. It will happen. You can’t ignore who you truly are forever. One day the decision won’t be yours anymore, and when that happens operations like ours will be your saving grace.”

Fuck.

I couldn’t live like this much longer. I couldn’t live so torn.

I clutched my head, sucking in greedy breaths, forcing my mind to fill with images. Images I deliberately blocked from my past.

“Do you want a taste, Quincy? You keep sneaking into rooms you’re forbidden to f**king go, all because you want a piece of pu**y?” My father motioned me forward with his free hand, while his other thrust thick fingers into a screaming blonde.

My ten-year-old stomach threatened to evict the cherry pie Mrs. Sucre had made me, but if my father told me to do something, I had no choice but to do it.

Inching across the carpet, my eyes fell on a tangled mess of hair and limbs. A girl. Skin that should’ve been dusky and pink was now grey and lifeless. Even her blood had turned from bright red to brown.

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