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The world was shifting in and out of focus, and I was dazed as Stellan sat down with me settled in his lap, his cock still hard in my ass. A soft sponge eased across my skin, and I whimpered as Stellan finally slowly withdrew from me. I was cleaned between my legs and then passed into a different set of arms—Cain’s, I assumed—since I was too exhausted to open my eyes.
A cold rush of air assaulted my skin as we stepped out of the shower, and I shivered until a warm towel was wrapped around me.
I was already falling asleep as I was laid onto a soft mattress.
Lips brushed against mine briefly before the world went dark.
And the last thing I thought…I guess they didn't hate the devil in me as much as I’d thought they would.
18
PAXTON
Iwas decidedly not a fan of cages. Especially after being in one for…who knows how long. I had no idea how long I’d been out after being fucking drugged that day in the hotel lobby. And when I'd woken up, I was inside a very large dog cage. The Demon had stripped off my hoodie, leaving me only in the jeans I'd been wearing at the time.
I was convinced I would never be warm again.
Because the only thing worse than being trapped in a dog cage in the first place, was being trapped in a dog cage in a freezing cold basement.
There was a lot that you took for granted in life. Like windows and sunlight and sanity. It was a fine line that Aurora’s father was pushing me towards. One that I could easily fall over if I wasn't careful.
The Demon was a clever one, I’d give him that. He switched tactics with me, breaking me down…for what purpose, I wasn't sure. For what seemed like days he kept the lights out, so that I was completely drenched in darkness, unable even to see the hand in front of my face. He brought victims in and out, and I'd had to listen to their pathetic whimpers and moans the entire time.
When the lights had finally crashed on, it felt like my retinas were burning, and my eyeballs were going to fall out of my skull. Wherever we were, there were huge shop lights hung all over the ceiling, much more than the space required, and the intensity of them all turning on at once after days of darkness was like being shoved against the sun.
I’d learned that none of the stories about him had been exaggerated—if anything, they hadn't been even close to describing what this psycho did to his victims. I’d watched him use a potato peeler, taking off layer upon layer of skin. Of course, this was after he'd injected the man with something that rendered him completely unable to move. Judging by his screams though, I was confident he’d felt every shred of his skin.
When he’d taken the needle and stuck it right in the guy’s eye, I’d thrown up.
And of course, the Demon wasn't going to clean that up, so I was stuck with the smell of my vomit and the guy’s putrid flesh for the next couple of days.
There wasn’t a word in the English language that was enough to describe that smell.
If I ever went to therapy…it wouldn’t be about my mommy issues anymore.
It would definitely be a result of this.
The one thing that kept me sane was thinking about the fact that Aurora had survived far worse than this growing up with him. She’d been a little girl, and she’d managed to survive and become the brilliant, ethereal, fierce creature that she was today. If she could handle that, I was sure I could too.
At least I could be confident he was going to keep me alive for a while. I'm sure he knew that Aurora wouldn't take it so well if he suddenly gutted me—that it would ruin whatever he was after right now when it came to her.
Or at least that was my hope.
It would suck to die.
It had been a tough day today, though…I’d been alone for a couple more days, and I was desperate for human interaction of any kind. I'd honestly take a rotten corpse at this point.
The basement's eerie silence had been disrupted by the door being thrown open and the Demon dragging in…Remington!
He threw Remington into a cage nearby, and I stared anxiously at Remy’s prone body just lying there.
Of course the Demon then turned the lights off, so I couldn't even be reassured he was alive by seeing his chest move up and down. I kept my hysteria controlled by thinking that keeping him in a cage wouldn't have been necessary if he wasn't alive.
Hours and hours passed, and my mind conjured up images of him dead, lying in a pile of green vomit.
Not sure why the vomit had to be green in the dream, but it seemed fitting for some reason.
Finally, I heard a loud groan; he was awake.
