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“Apologize, you little bitch!” Gabriel seethed, that cock-sucking ball-sack lube face.
“Bitch is a completely unoriginal nickname,” I mused, tapping a finger on my chin. “Like, it technically means a female dog, and I personally think dogs are cute and fluffy. Wouldn’t it be worse to be called an alligator or something? Like ‘you little alligator’ or maybe even a spider. I hate spiders. They’re all creepy and crawly and have eight legs like some kind of horror movie monster. Seriously, why would God create a monster? Oh wait. He made a lot of monsters: you, for one.”
Apparently, the Anus Hole didn’t like my speech, for he charged towards me, hands extended. It was Enzo, of all people, who put a restraining hand on his shoulder and held him back. They whispered something to one another, too soft for me to hear.
I rested my head on Calax’s shoulder while he peppered kisses across my scalp and forehead. In his arms, the rest of the world could just go right ahead and fuck off.
“Come,” Enzo said at last, stepping back from his little dick friend. Gabriel was glaring at me, and I might’ve been scared by the anger in his eyes if I actually believed he could hurt me. But no, he was just Lucian’s little bitch. And yes, that time I felt bitch was used in the correct context.
Lucian bossed Gabriel around as if he was on a leash. Under his thumb. He could say whatever he wanted about me, but I wasn’t the one thoroughly pussy-whipped. Or, to put it in better terms, cock-whipped. We all knew pussies were stronger than cocks.
Calax set me on my feet, straightening my clothes, before interlocking his fingers with my own. After a quick, reassuring squeeze, we followed Enzo and Gabriel down the hallway and into a familiar hospital room.
Deth was washing his hands in the sink while Lucian leaned languidly against the wall, arms crossed over his muscular chest. His face lifted into a smile when he caught sight of me, and his eyes glimmered.
I didn’t trust that smile for one damn minute. Now that I knew the truth, the reality of what type of monster he actually was, I wanted nothing more than to ram my boot into his nuts. The nut-cruncher back at it again. The - wait for it - nutcracker.
Pretty proud of that one.
“What do you want?” I asked tersely. Calax was pulled as taut as the strings on a guitar. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, touch him, but I knew he wouldn’t want to show any signs of weakness. No, he would have to fight whatever inner battle he was facing alone. At least for now.
“Calax! Welcome!” Lucian spread his arms wide in a swooping gesture. Calax didn’t answer, face set in stone. It could’ve been carved from granite with how hard it was. Each line etched into his skin was as hard and unforgiving as his penetrating gaze.
Unperturbed by Calax’s lack of response, Lucian patted the hospital bed. A white, scratchy sheet was already pulled over the leather. It wrinkled when he touched it.
I focused on that, only that, and the rest of the world fell away.
Lucian was talking enigmatically, making elaborate gestures with his hands, but I paid him barely any mind. Deth added something, tone low and dark, but it went in one ear and then out the other.
I was in a predicament. Morbidly, I wished that Calax had never found me, that he had escaped this prison hellhole. At least then, I would be able to refuse their offer without Calax’s life being dangled in front of my face like a tasty morsel. It was both the sweetest, most tempting gift and the worst possible scenario. They had something they could use against me, something that would make me comply. And I would. Eagerly. Without preamble. I would sacrifice my life one hundred times over if it meant Calax got to live.
At the same time…
Was what they were doing really that bad? They weren’t looking for a cure, no, but a quick fix. And their experimentswouldsave lives. At the same time, the already shit world would fall further into shambles as the powerful fought to procure my blood. I had no doubt in my mind that if my blood could do all that, it could also be used for finding a cure. A vaccination.
But these men wouldn’t be working to uncover that. No, their reasons were purely selfish, driven by greed.
Fuck.
If they killed me, if only they had access to my blood, I was condemning the world to a life of haves and have nots. The rich would prosper while the poor suffered. The powerful would thrive under the demise of the weak.
“What do you want from me?” I repeated. My throat was scratchy like sandpaper had been rubbed over my vocal cords.
“To save the world, of course!” Lucian’s smile was almost sincere. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve believed him. All it did was piss me off.
“That’s such fucking bullcrap, and we both know it. My blood only works if it’s injected in a ten minute timeframe after the worm enters the bloodstream. And even then, it works only once. You’re trying to create a fucking monopoly off my blood. You’re trying to rule the world.” My voice rose with anger until I was practically seething by the end. Red coated my vision as icy anger coursed through my veins. I felt like I could burn the world with my fury. Destroy it.
Destroy him.
Lucian didn’t even flinch after I confronted him. To be honest, his expression didn’t change at all. A smile remained firmly etched in place, and his eyes continued to glow.
I remembered reading about psychopaths and sociopaths during one of my online courses. I was obsessed with studying them, learning everything there was to know. For the longest time, I believed my dad was one. Now, I just believed he was a sadistic asshole intent on destroying me.
Anyway, sociopaths were incapable of feeling emotions such as regret and remorse. However, they were skilled at mimicking them.
And Lucian? I was beginning to believe he was one, especially when his brows furrowed and lips turned downward. It was the eyes, though, that had me staggering into Calax’s chest. They contained that same glimmer, same spark of amusement, that was evident when he smiled.
“I don’t want to help you,” I whispered.
