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Lifting my hands to his face, I hold him close. “All I’ll see is you.”
He kisses me, and I kiss him back. Nothing has ever felt so right, at this moment, than with him. If he’s a monster, then so am I.
* * *
I’m not entirelysure what I’m meant to feel about what’s coming. I’m sure anything Iwillfeel will be wrong, in one way or another, to someone out there with an undamaged soul. Revenge doesn’t sit well with everyone and getting enjoyment out of revenge is frowned upon. Why do they call it sweet, then? Rather than waiting for karma to dish it out, why is it so enticing to take matters into your own hands?
Is it impatience? Is karma simply not enough for some of the worst people out there?
Some say revenge isn’t the answer. It’s someone’s own poison, someone unable to move forward. But what if you’re me, about to witness it dealt by someone else’s hand rather than your own, with very little say?
Standing outside door number six, about to enter the unknown, what am I meant to feel? Not excitement. Not dread. Not anger or sadness. Maybe a little numb, a little scared, a little…apprehensive.
I’d spent what feels like a lifetime being afraid of these men who have hurt me so badly, to know they’re there about to suffer like I suffered behind this door. I can’t deny the unease and nausea swishing my stomach around like a washing machine. Maybe I’m so sickened because I want this. I want this so fucking bad.
What is room six?
I asked Milton, and he couldn’t look me in the eye after telling me that’s where we were headed.
“Not all rooms are for sex down here.”That was what he eventually told me, meaning he offered more ways one can take gratification from. I’d known as such, hadn’t I? He had killed down here, and I hadn’t realized what it truly meant. Like various kinks, there were some out there who get off on so much worse, and Milton offers that in an environment that is both safe and free. To be who you truly are without the repercussions from everyday life. And I know what I’m about to enter will be just that.
I’m standing right outside of room six when Milton turns to me. He hasn’t let go of my hand since we left his room. He’s so handsome, in one of his black-on-black suits that’s sharp and elegant. I’m wearing a black lace dress that had been chosen specifically by him that I know will probably be ripped to shreds once tonight is through. Theafterof tonight.
Does that make me sick? To be excited by having Milton again, especially after watching…whatever I’m about to watch. The honest answer is that, yes, it is sick. How can someone even facilitate such desires for sex after watching something that will probably be horrific?
Maybe I need to stop thinking.
Lifting his hand, Milton caresses the side of my cheek, and my eyes flutter closed. My heart flutters, my stomach, his touch anchoring me as always. Bringing me back down to earth and not lost in the flurry of my thoughts.
“I missed you, princess,” he tells me, leaning down to brush his lips against mine. It’s such a sweet, chaste kiss, but still as impacting, making me tingle right down to my toes. I missed him too—so fucking much. I want him to take me away from here, right now, and show me how much he missed me. But I know that’s not going to happen. I’m about to watch whatever I need to watch. Milton had called it closure, an end. “Do you trust me?”
My eyes open. “Of course.”
Smiling a little, he rubs his thumb across my cheekbone. It’s featherlight. Soft. I’m exhausted but wide awake. I’m sure he feels the same. “I need that trust more than anything right now.”
“I trust you,” I declare, wholeheartedly, for nothing has been as true.
With a nod, he grabs the handle and opens the door. The room is dimly lit as we go inside. My eyes immediately go to the forms of Blake and Nicolas in the center of a large room. They’re side by side, with bags over their heads, kneeling on the floor with their hands tied behind their back. And they’re naked, entirely, their tattooed skin stained with blood and bruises of yellow, blue, and purple colors. When I glance down at Milton’s hand, his knuckles are swollen and bruised, indicating he’d beat them already.
A movement to the left brings my attention to Maxim. He’s lounging on a nearby couch, drinking from a square-cut tumbler. His light hair that’s usually so perfect is splashed over his forehead haphazardly. His face and eyes are similar to how Milton’s are. Though he’s not washed away the death that covers him, he’s instead basking in it. Lifting his other hand, he strokes Bea. She’s seated beside him as still as a statue once again. My heart aches, remembering Blake shot Blue. His absence means he didn’t make it. It’s no wonder Bea had shredded Blake’s neck. And you can see it, dried blood splattered down his chest from the neck wound she inflicted. I wonder if Milton stopped her before she went too far.
It’s not just us here. Others sit around on other couches placed around the room, faces hidden in shadow. The center in which Blake and Nicolas are is the only space lit up. I’m gathering they’re people who enjoy this, watching bad people get what’s coming to them. I can only imagine the kind of people they are, or maybe I lack the imagination. What if they’re ordinary people, such as doctors, policemen, or even business owners? Those come to watch Fair Haven’s wretched perish in a way the law no longer allows.
Milton brings me over to our own sleek, leather couch. When he sits, he pulls me over his lap, his hands grip me. I’m confused until four men wearing cloaked robes step out of the surrounding darkness. Blake and Nick’s blindfolds are ripped from their heads, and they hiss out breaths, eyes probably stinging from the sharp light in their eyes.
They’re both pale from blood loss, and Blake pulls at the rope around his wrists, teeth clenching from the exertion. That’s when I realize their hands are bound to their ankles. Despite knowing he won’t escape, my chest spasms with worry anyway. Enough for me to shrink back into Milton.
He knows. Of course, he does. He holds me tightly and whispers, “He won’t get to you anymore. After tonight, he will never take you away from me again.”
I shiver when he kisses the side of my face. My pulse jumps beneath my skin. The men with hoods separate Blake and Nick, tugging them further apart until they face each other. Nick’s eyes are half-open, and he’s swaying with weakness. Blake’s glancing around the room. At the dark haze of faces staring back at him. “What the fuck is this?”
I wince from his graveled voice, and Milton rubs my back reassuringly before setting me down beside him. Panic flares instantly when he stands, but he’s already there, bending over in front of me. “Just watch.”
Watch.
I watch him unbutton his jacket and stalk around the shadows for a moment before stepping into the light. Nicolas doesn’t raise his head, but Blake does, and his mouth stretches into a grin. “About time, Milton—I was getting bored.”
Milton smiles tightly as the hooded figure approaches with a silver tray. There’s a whole table of them covered in black cloths. I can only imagine what’s on the others when the hooded man pulls back the cloth, revealing a whip that looks like a snake curled up in sleep.
