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I feel like I’m pouring sweat.
They smile wickedly and begin their ascent toward me. Something comes over me, and I want them—both of them. They grab me and unexpectedly there are mouths and hands all over me. Whimpering, I melt into their touch when one of them licks up the side of my cheek and then stops.
“Wait,” he demands of the other demon.
“This is Lyric, you idiot. She’s the first soul to make a deal with the Grim Reaper in a millennium. We received instructions not to touch her. Remember?”
They simultaneously pull away from me, distancing themselves.
The euphoria I was feeling just a moment ago is dissipating, and I instantly feel guilty.
What the hell was that all about?
“Come with us,” the first demon says. They both hold out a hand, and I take each one, them guiding me between them. We arrive at the wall, the flames licking our feet, as a portal appears, and together, we walk through.
I don’t know where we’re at inside Hell, just that I don’t want to be here. I’m surrounded by what looks like a motel room. Actually, it looks identical to the one that Jake and I were staying in. My insides twist into a knot, and I attempt to pull away from the demons. I need to escape.
They firmly grip me, and my breathing feels labored. Not again. I squirm in place, and the second demon speaks up.
“This is familiar to you. Yes?” he eagerly inquires.
I nod and he pushes me forward.
“This is his personal hell.” He happily states.
My eyes grow wide at the epiphany. A loud noise echoes from the bathroom, followed by gurgling wails and bellows. I ditch the demons and creep my way over to the bathroom. When I peer around the corner, I see Jake—strung up by the bathroom curtains. He looks like a fly caught in a spider’s web.
A demon stands in front of him, holding a corded phone with both hands. It looks like the same one as before. The demon draws back and repeatedly smashes the phone into Jake’s face. Jake eventually stops making noise, and his body goes lax. When the demon takes a step back, the demon reveals Jake’s mutilated face. He’s completely unrecognizable, and he looks… dead. Is it possible to die… again?
Jake inhales a loud, exasperating breath, and I watch as his face transforms right before me. I can’t take my eyes off him. He looks normal again. He locks eyes with mine, and the hatred that grows within them scares me.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he asks testily.
His demon whirls around to see me and my own demonic escorts and viciously smirks.
“Again?” he cruelly asks.
“Again.” The word tumbles out in a breathy whisper.
I can feel myself continuously getting turned on, even in this instance. This isn’t me or the In-Between, this is Hell. Thinking about Jake’s pain makes me ridiculously wet. I’m not sure why, and it’s making me ill at ease, but I can’t make it stop.
The demon leans in and whispers something in his ear, and Jake spits at me before the demon starts the process once more. His hell is my hell, with him being played on repeat. I wish I could play it everywhere I go.
We stay for a while. I don’t know how long, but it feels like hours go by as we observe Jake being tortured. There are no breaks except for the moments where it seems like he dies and comes back to life, and the brutality starts all over again.
I eventually realize demons love their work so much that it makes them cum and while I’m here with them, it makes me cum too. The overwhelming pleasure never lets up as I watch my ex being bludgeoned and stabbed, amongst other cruel and torturous things. No one or nothing touches me, but while here, I’m understanding that I don’t have complete control of myself and I don’t need to be touched to feel good. I’m convinced that something lurks in the air—something coaxing and sinful. I try not to overthink it.
I’m dragged from my thoughts… and my orgasms as I feel my feet give way beneath me and I fall.
CHAPTER 45
ATTICUS
“Where is she?!” I scream frantically. My Strawberry Girl is gone; an alarm goes off within me while also thinking about how I’m going to get Lyric back.
The Grim Reaper retreats a step and closes the portal. It’s in such a nonchalant manner that it easily aggravates me, and I suddenly feel a pressure within my soul—a willingness to explode.
“Hell,” it replies objectively.
