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But if they are, we will be the ones to drown with him.
I find myself whispering the familiar words I once said to him, “Maybe we can drown in our darkness together.”
Then I press down the handle and open the door to hell.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
LUCAS
Finn slips away from the shadows, knowing I have control of the situation, but I didn’t miss the shock on his face at the sight before him before he shrugged his shoulder and left me to it. I can only assume my family are safe, as he would have stated otherwise, and I sure as hell wouldn’t waste my time here any longer.
When daylight streams down from the door he just left from, my gaze snaps toward it in confusion. The throb of the vein in my temple lessens with each step she takes, while her eyes widen as she takes in the room.
I glance around, taking in the scene she’s witnessing, the room is a bloodbath, there’s no doubt about it. The walls are painted in the splattering of his poisoned blood, like an antidote to my fragile state. The withered carpet is a sea of red, along with his dismembered body parts that I took delight in feeling the scream ripping from my lungs as I tore him apart, limb by limb, nightmare by nightmare.
His dismembered head is without his tongue, a huge cut from ear to ear making me own that maniacal smile of his, instead of him.
His thick fingers and the gold rings I grew to hate as much as him are haphazardly scattered near the basement steps, and I grimace a little thinking about Tia touching them. When I threw them one by one, I didn’t consider where they might land, now I regret that action a little.
My feet remain frozen, and my posture broadens as I bask in the glory of my creation.
Pure brutality paints the room. Pure devotion.
Cole’s face comes into view next, and he pales before he scans over my body with wide eyes, as if checking whose blood is coating my clothes. His eyes search mine in a silent conversation, pleading with me to tell him I’m okay, and I gift him with a nod that sends relief flooding through his face.
Jace whistles happily as he strolls down the steps into my newfound haven.
It’s amazing what sanctuary you can find in the tortured screams of monsters. Their cries of pain are like flashes of euphoria to my heart.
Each slice of his skin stealing a sliver of torment from my sordid soul. A past that will forever be tarnished but leaving a future brighter than I could ever imagine.
“Lucas, are you okay?” Her soft voice encompasses me, grounds me as always, and like when we were children, our eyes become magnetized, and I get lost in the concern and love that binds us. The tender touch to my cheek is done so with trepidation, like she’s wary of me, and I hate it. I place my hand over hers, pressing her warmth against my face. She ignores the blood coating my hand, now coating hers, and her features soften with the love I feel.
“I am now.” I answer truthfully as I stare into her eyes fearlessly. “I made it brutal,” I bend to whisper into her ear.
She shudders against me at my familiar words, her eyes flare with arousal, and she steps forward, as if allowing me to feel more of her, and suddenly, that’s all I want to do. I want to feel her, every part of her, and what better way to feel her than in the depths of our hell now transformed to a place of repentance.
“Lu-Lucas,” she breathes out as if sensing my thoughts as her other hand finds the opening to my bloody shirt that exposes my chest. I hiss when her palm rests on my skin and my cock swells with the need to consume her, like she consumes me, while she presses her body against me.
I bend to whisper in her ear, “I need you.” Heat flares in her pupils, and her heart rate kicks up against my chest while I sweep my hands down to her ass, squeezing it for emphasis.
“Fucccck. Are we really going to do it here?” I glance toward Cole; he leans back against the bloody table I used to pin Viggo down to slice his ears from his lecherous body. His hand strokes over his jeans, showcasing his thickening cock.
I draw my eyes up to meet his. “We are. What better way to revel in their ruin.” I lift an eyebrow at him, the question hangs in the air. Is he in on this?
His lips lift into his cocky grin, and my cock jumps with joy, knowing he’s always by our side.
“I’m down. I think we need to take the control back, what do you say?” Jace scans over the room, his jaw tightening when his gaze locks with Viggo’s decapitated head. “Just cover his fucking face, I don’t want to see it as I come.” He turns his back to Viggo with a grimace.
Cole chuckles and grabs a discarded blanket from the corner of the room, and a memory of her shrouding me in it to cover me as a form of protection makes my body jolt. It’s not the same as the one Tia covered me with. Then she kisses my jawline. “Iremember,” she whispers, and I gasp at her admission, relieved that she remembers me. Among all the bad memories, she remembers me.
Love pools in her blue eyes, it seeps from her touch, burning beneath my skin and igniting a wildfire of exhilaration that causes my cock to spurt in unnatural excitement.
My lips slam down on hers, and they’re feral as they clash with her teeth. I tug her lip into my mouth, then suck away the sting at my assault. Our tongues fight for control as our hands work our clothes from our skin. She scrambles to unbutton my shirt, and I pull her T-shirt over her head, missing the taste of her mouth while we disconnect, only to slam our mouths together again just as fierce.
She works my pants open with well-practiced ease, tugging my blood-stained pants down while I fumble to push her shorts to the ground. I lift her ass and her shorts fall to the floor while I push her against the wall.
