AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s free.
“Not on that, Bubble-Butt,” I tease, smiling at the fact that he’s in a much better place, no longer having to have a few drinks before heading home to face the mess of his life.
“Sorry.”
His thoughts switch to him arriving at the scene. A warehouse looms above him and he enters through the open door to find a section of the place has been cordoned off. Large paneling surrounds a twenty-five square foot made-up ‘room’. Kind of like if you’re looking at a child's dollhouse, there’s only three walls, a floor, and a ceiling. The inside of it is decorated to resemble the coffee shop, Flick’n the Bean, exactly. The floor is covered in what appears to be piles and piles of coffee grounds, more than I’ve ever seen in my life.
His eyes take in every spare detail before focusing on the corpse. There’s shoe prints in the dirt, deep and large, but the victim has no shoes on. Blood is everywhere, giving no real idea of where the torture started or where it ended, other than where the corpse ended up. Everything has a layer of dried blood on it, some even spilling out onto the concrete of the warehouse floor.
His focus finally switches to the victim. Arlo sits on a coffee shop chair, his arms hanging lifelessly by his sides, but his head is perfectly straight and still. He’s naked, the only thing covering his bare skin is the blood pulled from his body and the pair of aviators resting over the mangled mess of where his eyes used to be.
A shiver rockets up my spine as I take in the entirely missing area between his legs. He’s been ‘mannequined’. I don’t know if that’s a word, but it’s all I’ve got. Where his dick and balls used to be is just a smooth flayed mess of blood and flesh. My name is carved into his chest, the jagged slices into his skin have dried rivers of blood flowing over his pelvis from the open wounds.
I guess it’s time to see what my stalker got up to in here with my almost rapist.
I let go of Alan’s hand and wipe my now sweaty palm against my jeans, my hands shaking, but I have no idea why. A hand gently presses against my back when I don’t automatically react or say anything, the touch helping to calm my racing heart just slightly.
“Wicked, are you okay?” Kai’s concerned question filters through the blood rushing in my ears and I nod my head jerkily.
“Yeah, I’m…” I sigh as my legs are suddenly restless, unable to keep from shifting from one to the other. “Alright, I’m not okay. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Do you need a second?” He asks, but I shake my head forcefully.
“No, I don’t think so. I just…” I bounce slightly, not really sure what’s running through my subconscious at the moment.
Okay, breathe deeply. Good.
I’m not mourning the fucker, nope. He got what was coming to him, no doubt about it. Fucking good riddance. Shit, I almost want to piss on his corpse and dance over his entrails. Morbid, but true.
Seeing him again after what he did? Well, that’s sucked a bit of the air out of my sails. Only because I think about that night and what almost happened. But again…he got his. And being able to see him like this? Well, it might be better than seeing him behind bars.
So that’s not what’s bothering me.
Then it hits me.
“I have to go into his head,” I blurt out, cringing at the way my words echo and rebound in the warehouse.
“You mean…when you do your psychic thing?” Kai asks, his hand now rubbing against my lower back soothingly.
“Yeah. I’ll have to…be him. Experience what he experienced. I’m not sure how I feel about that.” My throat is dry and scrapes like sandpaper as I try to swallow.
“Mi vida, hey.” Nic presses closer in front of me before his hands reach up to cup my face, stroking back my hair. “You’re stronger than this fucker and whatever you might see or feel in there.”
I nod against his hold, but I don’t know if I’m agreeing because I believe it, or because I’m not quite sure how I feel about Nic being compassionate. It throws me off.
“Don’t go soft on me now, dick.” I try to joke, but the words are hollow.
“Don’t go weak onme.” His aura flashes with danger and challenge, one hand snaking into my hair and jerking it tightly.
I press against him instinctively and he lets me, pulling me flush against his body as the hand not gripping my hair wanders down and grabs my ass firmly. Kai presses in closer behind me like he just can’t help himself, like he’s magnetized, and I’m surprised when Nic says nothing. He doesn’t seem like the sharing type. Not that he has a choice in the grand scheme of things, he knew what he was getting into when he fucked me with Ezra’s essence still trailing down my thighs. But I definitely didn’t picture him actively participating in the sharing, not like Kai and Ezra.
“I don’t do weak, Wicked. So get the fuck in there and do your fucking job, or we’re going to have problems.” His lips slam against mine in a brutal, claiming kiss.
His tongue forces its way through my lips and quickly batters mine into submission. It turns frenzied and painful as his teeth find my bottom lip, biting down enough to draw blood, before sucking the evidence away. When he breaks the kiss, leaving me a panting quivering mess, he doesn’t move away immediately after. Like he’s waiting for something.
And I know what it is. He’s made his point. I’m not fucking weak. If I can put up with a man like Nicolás De León, then I can do anything. He just had to give me a little reminder.
Whatever he sees flashing across my features must satisfy him because I feel his smile in his voice when he speaks next, the words like a caress down my spine. “Good girl.”
