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Rey had prepared for a fight. A battle of wills he knew he’d win. He wouldn’t expect something like that. The deafening bellow rang through her ears, trying to drown the roar within her head. Shock attempted to drag her from under the bloody tide as her body connected with the wall. Flung against wood and plaster, her descent to the floor never completed as Rey grabbed her. He crushed Devin between his bulk and the wall to press their bodies together. Chest to chest, he sought to keep the shredded pieces of the bond between them.
Fire scoured her body. Raked bloody claws in the soft, wet places beneath her ribs as it lacerated her heart, her lungs. Her very soul. Whatever lay between Rey and her became caught in vicious teeth. Gnawed on until the delicate threads of Devin’s sanity split and snapped. It scraped through her, a bloodied edge snatching away every trace of warmth. Left her cold and desolate in a bitter wind that held the salty taste of her misery.
The numbness returned. No longer aching, she was a hollowed version of her former self. He couldn’t hurt her there. Couldn’t make his demands, force his will onto her.
For the first time in her life, Devin felt free. She only wished it hadn’t come at such a cost.
Desperation always demanded a price.
She’d finally paid it.
Chapter Thirteen
Devin lay in great swathes of softness, all of it flat and stale. Deep down, she knew two males scented the fabric. The first allowing the second in a moment of distress, his evil paleness becoming a constant in the shuddering glimpses of this unfamiliar landscape of bruised hues.
Maybe it was just night.
She’d lost the pattern of the days long ago. Didn’t care for the time. Devin existed in a hazy space between awareness and dreams, shunning both until everything went gray around the edges, her thoughts thick as cold molasses. Existing was good enough for now. Each span of time she failed to acknowledge led her closer to the moment where even that wouldn’t matter anymore.
She knew she’d done something. What it was, how she’d managed it, was beyond the swampy muck dragging at her.
“Just swallow, baby. Come on, you can do that at least.”
Devin tried to turn her head, but they were ready for that. Had she done it before? She couldn’t remember, didn’t want to. Beseeching brown eyes came close, his grip on her chin tightening to keep her still. The violent resonance they pushed into her body was nothing, an angry buzz that did little more than make her brain itch.
“No, no. Don’t do that again, sweetheart,” the one above her murmured as the pale beast behind her pinned down her arms. Stopping Devin before she could add to the garish pattern of gouges marking her chest, her face.
She didn’t remember those, either.
Throat refusing to work, no matter how they massaged it, or how loud they made that bone shuddering sound, the liquid spilled from slack lips as soon as he poured it.
“Devin, sweetheart, please. You have to drink the water.”
No, she didn’t. Pinching her nose shut, clamping her mouth closed, they tried to give her no other choice. Devin had figured out months ago that there was always another choice. Once it’d been at the mercy of a dull letter opener, a piece of ceramic or glass. Though the memories were muddled, she knew the path they’d led her towards.
This wasn’t new. These two had ignored it all. Saw only what they wanted to.
Devin coughed. Sputtered when the thin liquid went down the wrong way as she tried to take a breath. Could one drown from a mouthful of water?
A string of curses followed her as she was flung forward to dangle over the edge of the bed. Devin retched, stomach heaving as it tried to expel even the taste of minerals and cold steel.
She closed her eyes, the haze descending to cosset her in murky drifts.
Opening them, the endless blue of a summer sky appeared, mirrored in two orbs.
“I’ll promise you anything if you’ll just eat for him, baby,” Beau murmured with a stroke of his knuckles against her cheek. “You’re killing him.”
That hadn’t been the intent, but hadn’t he told her the other would survive, given the proper motivation? A glimpse of reddened lips, of red-gold stubble against the rich ochre of Rey’s body. Yes, he could provide that in spades.
“You’ve got no right,” he whispered, nose traversing the side of her neck with a long inhale. “You don’t get to make me want you this bad and then fade away.”
Devin drifted again.
“Is she really going to lie there and waste away because I refuse to put her in danger?”
The dull roar brought her back. A slow blink cleared the fog enough for her to focus with bleary eyes on the two males. Rey paced the room, his shirt a rumpled mess, the too long length of his hair standing up at odd angles.
“Come on, Daniel. Was it really just that?”
