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The picture is a depraved one. My woman is covered in bruises, blood, and another man’s cum, and yet I’ve never been harder in my life than I am right now. We’re the twisted picture of insanity. Two dark elements that, when combined, are lethal. We’ll never be normal. Never be able to look back and talk about what we did to exorcise our demons, at least not until we are on our deathbed. Yet somehow, it doesn’t matter.
Maybe I’m jumping the gun, and we’ll get caught. We spent years planning this, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t miss some small detail along the way that might point to us. We could walk out of here tomorrow in handcuffs. This, right here, right now, might be all I have left with the woman who is the other half of my soul. And yet, I have no regrets. Not a single one.
We were kids when we had our power stripped from us. What should have been nurtured was fractured and broken. We are what they made us. I, for one, have no problem force-feeding karma to each one of those bastards who deserved it.
The scars on our bodies healed, but the scars on our psyche changed us. Our tastes ran a little darker than most. There were elements of our sex life that mimicked the abuse we’d both received. We knew we’d never escaped what they did to us so we took those lessons and made them our own. We pushed the boundaries of morality and consent to take back the power they stole from us, but we did it with the safety net of faith beneath us. I had absolute faith in Rue, and in return, she gave me her trust. I was the only person on the planet who had earned it and I guarded it like a dragon guards its hoard.
“Valen,” Rue gasps, making me focus on her again. Her breathing is ragged, and her pulse is beating wildly in her throat as a pink flush spreads across her chest and face.
“You want to come, Boo? Did you want to feel my cum coating your thighs while you cried your crocodile tears to the police?”
She whimpers my name again.
“There’s my dirty girl. Come for me. Show me who this pussy belongs to.”
She tries to fight, to hold on a little longer, but when I press my thumb inside her ass, she explodes. She grips the counter to hold herself up as her legs shake under the onslaught of my thrusts.
I pull out, turn her around, and lift her up onto the counter with one arm. “Spread your legs and watch me paint you with my cum.”
She does as I say, showing me her wet, slick pussy that’s red and swollen from our fucking. I fuck my fist to the carnal sight before stepping closer. With a groan, I come over her tits and stomach before finishing off on her pussy. I use the head of my cock to rub my cum around her clit and over her pussy lips before I slip inside, pushing my cum deep. I lean down, my nose skimming hers as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“I love you, and I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” I ask as I ease out of her, grabbing some toilet paper to clean my cock before flushing the paper down the toilet and tucking myself away.
“I’m sorry I forgot you.”
I sigh and lift her up, carrying her over to the shower. I set her down, and she steps inside, and I watch as the water washes over her. “You were supposed to forget me. We needed you to be the victim. You needed Sono-d in your system for that to happen.”
“I know, but I think a small part of me honestly thought I’d remember you anyway. How could I forget you when you’re my everything?”
“I think subconsciously you did remember. You trusted me from the beginning, even when all I was to you was a walking, talking red flag. Your brain forgot me, but your heart didn’t. Your pussy didn’t. You think you would have let me in so quickly if you truly forgot?”
I hand her the small bottle of shampoo and watch as she washes her hair, thinking over my words. I let her work through everything, looking back over our interactions and her reactions before she relaxes. There’s no conditioner, so I hand her the tiny bar of soap to wash her body just as there’s a knock on the door.
I walk over and crack it open. A nurse stands there with a scowl on her face.
“She is not supposed to be in there, and neither are you,” she snaps.
Opening the door fully, I cross my arms and lean down over her. “She’s had the evidence collected. She is covered in blood and the semen of her rapist, and you just want her to sit in it, reliving every fucking memory of what he did to her?”
The nurse flushes. “The doctor wants to take another look at the cut on her face.”
“She’s almost done. Do you have anything clean she can wear? Not a hospital gown. It’s making her feel too exposed.”
Her face softens. “I’ll find her some scrubs and get the sheets on the bed changed.”
She disappears, so I close the door and walk back over to Rue just as she turns the shower off. She stands in front of me, dripping wet, exhaustion lining every inch of her face. And yet, there is peace there, too. Something I haven’t seen before. It means everything we did, every sacrifice we made, and every risk we took were all worth it.
Now it’s over, and for the first time in twelve years, she can finally breathe again.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Rue
Thankfully, the cut on my face wasn’t too deep, so the doctor just glued it. After that, she gave me the number of a therapist and discharged me.
I’ve been home for two days—two days where we shut out the rest of the world and celebrated. Every name on my list had been crossed off. Every death gave us a new lease on life. We ate, we slept, we fucked, and we spent every waking second with each other without a care.
