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Cain opened a drawer and pulled out what suspiciously looked like an all-inclusive torture set. Or it could've been a toolkit, if you were a sane person. There were screwdrivers and wrenches…and knives. There was even a large lighter. Everything that I needed to work with.
"We'll leave you to it," Cain said with a cheery wink, before heading towards the door. Paxton followed him, his attention still on the ground, and of course, Stellan was the one to lag behind.
"You don't have to do this," he said, and I wondered how we got to the point where he couldn't see what was right in front of him. One of the biggest problems between us was that he was holding onto a ghost, a memory of a girl from the past.
She didn't exist anymore.
She’d never exist again.
"Stellan," I mused, brushing some hair out of my face. "Delilah's dead. You're wanting to take all the good parts of Delilah one minute, and then doubt there's any good in Aurora. It doesn't work like that. Both of those people have monsters inside of them."
Stellan shook his head in frustration and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Guys are idiots," I told myself as I went over to the toolkit and grabbed a small steak knife. I didn't want to cutitoff too quickly; I wanted to have to saw my way through his dick for the maximum pain effect.
After grabbing the knife I walked back over to Warren Taylor and crouched down beside him. "Wakey, wakey," I sang, and somehow, that got him to wake up. Or maybe it was the fact that I stabbed him in the leg at the same time.
His eyes were dilated, and he definitely wasn't seeing straight. I clenched his jaw, making sure my nails dug into his skin, and then dropped a syringe full of the poison into his mouth. It only took one minute before it began to work. He started sweating and frothing at the mouth, and I knew my smile must've been horrific in that moment. I held up the knife in front of his face.
“Not that you're going to get another chance, but I hope you enjoy losing your pathetic manhood,” I smiled.
Without waiting any longer, I pulled down his pants and went to work, his screams a beautiful lullaby for my aching soul from his violation.
When it was done, I opened his mouth and stuffed his dick inside before using the lighter to cauterize the wound between his legs so he didn’t bleed out immediately. A little trick the Demon had shown me once.
And then I decided I didn't feel like watching his death. One of the other guys could do that. I set the knife on the counter and washed my hands in the industrial sink built into the cabinet, only then remembering that all I had on was Remington’s shirt.
I didn't look back as I walked out of the room, and I wasn't surprised to see Cain leaning against the wall in the hallway.
"Will you take care of the body?" I asked. He nodded and went to walk past me, but before he did, he grabbed me around the waist and laid a savage kiss on my lips. It was a kiss between two monsters…and I didn't hate it.
After letting me go, and disappearing through the doorway, I trudged down a few hallways until I got to my empty room. I stood there, just looking around, wondering why, after everything I'd been through in my life, this was what was really hurting me. I wished there was a way to scrub my brain of all the baggage that was stored there, starting with the feel of his bandaged fingers scratching my insides, a sensation I swore I could still feel right that very minute.
I hurried over to the shower, desperate to scrape the memory of his touch off my skin. The water was hot enough that it stung as it splashed against me, but I savored the pain, scrubbing my skin until it was red and raw looking.
After deeming myself clean enough, I crawled into bed, wondering if it was even any use trying to sleep. I was beyond physically and mentally exhausted, but I could already feel the nightmares lurking, just waiting to have their fun.
Just as I’d laid my head on the pillow, the door to the bathroom I shared with Paxton quietly opened, because of course the locks never worked against these guys.
Paxton appeared in the doorway and walked over to my bed.
“I was hoping you'd come," I whispered.
"I knew the nightmares would be bad after what happened today," he murmured, reaching his hand down to stroke my face, his eyes glittering in the moonlight streaming from the window.
I closed my eyes and savored his touch, the rough calluses on his hands from fighting, and whatever other crazy shit he got up to, feeling like perfection against my skin.
He didn't ask permission, and he didn't need to, before he crawled into my bed and turned me around so that our foreheads were touching and his arms went around me.
“I—I can’t stand that I let that happen to you,” he whispered after a long moment of silence. I thought of the truth he’d given me that first night he’d come in, when he’d told me about his mother. He was probably struggling almost as badly as I was over what had happened today.
“You don’t even like me,” I answered, because sometimes I was a stupid bitch. Especially when I was traumatized.
His arms tightened. “You know that’s not true.” His response felt like a confession, and my mouth dropped open in shock because I hadn’t expected Paxton to ever admit that he didn’tnotlike me.
Paxton's hand moved from my waist into my hair, a soothing caress that had a needy whimper floating from my throat.
I hadn't thought I was capable of feeling any arousal any time soon after what had happened today, but between the feel of him, and the fact that he was shirtless, showcasing all that perfect rippling muscle under smooth skin—it would have been a temptation for anyone. I forced myself to move my gaze away from his chest, but the sight of his beautiful face did me in. I found myself sliding on top of him, straddling his legs as my hand came to his face. Even in the dim lighting of the room, I could see the emotion pouring from his gaze. And the look inside of them—it almost looked like…
