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I am done.
I know I am.
“What the fuck?”
A deep voice roars from somewhere behind me. I ignore it, assuming it’s another one of Ray’s little friends. I’ve given up. There is no hope for me, not anymore. I just hope that if Wells ever finds me or learns what happened to me, he gets rid of Ray in any way possible. I don’t care how it’s done or what happens. I just want Ray to suffer.
When I feel movement around me, only then do I open my eyes. The men who were on the couch, who circled me, they’re on the move and looking really panicked. I don’t try to sit up, even though that’s my natural reaction. I stay where I am and hope that whatever happens, that I survive it.
Then I hear a shot.
It’s loud and vibrates off the walls. I hear a few grunts right before there is a shadow over me to the side. Turning my head, I look over and gasp at the sight of Wells standing above me. His eyes are dark, so dark that they’re black, as he looks down at me.
He looks angry. Pissed off, exactly. Letting out a breath, I lift my chest from the coffee table and turn to face him. I start to stand, but he lifts his hand, his palm facing me.
“Stay,” he murmurs.
I do as I’m told, looking up at him from my place on the floor. Nodding with a single jerk, I stay where I am. What feels like seconds later, I watch as Wells drags Ray right in front of me.
“Did he touch you?” Wells asks.
I slip my tongue out, slide it across my bottom lip, and nod once. “He hit me, but nothing else too bad.”
“He hit you?” Wells growls.
Jerking my chin, I lift it slightly and look straight toward him. “He hit me,” I confirm.
Wells hums, and before I realize what’s happening, he slides a knife across Ray’s throat and blood spurts everywhere. Wells moves toward me, and the rustling around the room stops. It’s just him and me. There are just the two of us. Nothing else exists in this world but him and me.
He reaches down, slides his hands beneath my arms, and lifts me slightly. I don’t know what I expect, but it isn’t to be picked up and have my ass set down on the coffee table. “Wells?” I ask softly.
“I don’t know what you went through, and I’m not going to ask you today. Right now, I’m going to fuck you. Whatever the fuck happened, you can work on that later. But right now, there is just you and me.”
“And the dead guy behind you,” I whisper.
He chuckles, his lips curving up slightly. “Fuck him. He doesn’t fucking exist. It’s just you and me, cupcake.”
Lifting my hands, I ignore the blood that covers his face and neck as I feel the warmth of his skin beneath my touch. “Just you and me,” I repeat.
He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around the front of my throat as he leans down slightly and touches his mouth to mine.
“You’re mine,” he growls.
He wraps the fingers of his other hand around my wrist, moving it so it slides across his skin, where the blood is dripping off his face. “He needs to know that,” Wells states.
“I think he’s dead,” I whisper.
Wells lifts his head, chuckling as his gaze finds mine. “I know he’s dead, cupcake. I’m going to fuck you in his blood.”
WELLS
Parker looks up at me,her eyes wide, and the fear that I remember from our first encounter at my mother’s office has returned. I stare at her for a moment. I know I look horrifying, with blood dripping from my face and body.
“I want your ass on that table, cupcake,” I demand, though I keep my voice soft, almost as if I’m purring to an injured animal.
Slowly, she places her hands on the coffee table and pushes herself up to stand. Standing still, I watch as she walks around the small table and sinks down until she’s sitting on the edge. She watches me, seemingly not scared by the sight of the blood soaking my body.
Opening my mouth, I start to tell her to spread her legs, but I don’t need to because she does it automatically, as if she already knows exactly what I want and the way I want it. She’s mine in every way, and she knows it.
