Page 8 of Sinfully Devoted


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“I should’ve listened to you, Uncle Max,” I grunted out, trying to get comfortable. Finally, after opening my mouth one too many times, and baiting Damon one too many times, he and his lapdog had set upon me.

My body ached. I didn’t think there was a part of me that wasn’t black and blue. Rolling onto my side, the cool concrete floor of my cage helped numb the pain somewhat, but only for a little while. The dank grey walls glistened with moisture. A damp, musty smell mixed with sweat hung in the air. In one corner, there was a bucket. I could only assume what that would be used for.

“Count yourself lucky, fucktard,” a ticked voice intoned. Lifting my head slightly, I found Damon sitting on a steel chair in the other corner. Hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, chin resting on his hands— just staring at me. The coldness in his eyes matched the color; this was a guy that spoke my language. “The only reason you’re still breathing is so that she can decide what to do with you.”

“You’re a fucking fool if you think she’ll ever do anything to hurt me,” I said, wincing through the pain as I sat upright. “I’ve been conditioning her to obey me since she was eleven. I only have to give her a look, and we’ll be waltzing out of here.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he ground out as stood and kicked the chair across the room, narrowly missing my head. “She was a young girl back then, one that you fucking intimidated. Scared so fucking badly into believing that you would harm her family and friends that she stayed quiet. That’s not love; it’s not even blind devotion. You used threats, and if given the chance, I can fucking guarantee you that she would terminate your bloody ass.”

“You think they were fucking threats,” I asked, chuckling. I looked up and grinned. Damon was about to learn exactly how far my fucking reach went. “You really believe that Mommy dearest was killed by accident in a robbery gone wrong? Bitch, please, I paid for that to happen.”

The shock that washed over him was priceless. It was probably the first time that Damon fucking Zammit had been shocked into silence. Realization quickly morphed into anger when he finally worked the last pieces of the puzzle together.

Within seconds, chaos erupted. He launched himself at me, pinning me down, his fists raining down on my face. “You. Orchestrated. All. Of. This!” he shouted; each word accompanied by his fists.

Laughing, I smiled up at him, the coppery taste filling my mouth. “You’re only working that out now?” This guy was more of a fool than I’d originally thought. “She has always been fucking watched; she was always going to end up in my arms, my bed.”

“Why her mother?” I understood his anger. It was the same anger I felt when I heard my Kitten talking about our first night together. The way she described it destroyed a beautiful memory for me. “Why take the only person she had left from her?”

“She didn’t keep our secret; she tainted the memory. Made it ugly and abhorrent.” She turned that night into something that it wasn’t. That night was special. It meant something more to me than just a quick fuck. “It’s what sealed our relationship, our commitment to each other, and she ruined it. For that, she needed to be punished. With her mother out of the picture, it made it easier for me to pull all this off.”

“She was just a fucking child back then; you’re the one that took something he shouldn’t have. You fucking raped her, and for what? Some deluded notion that she was yours?” He was seething, the vein in his neck ticking as he sneered at me. “You killed her mother over some warped memory.”

“Well, not me, per se, but I orchestrated and bankrolled it.” I meant that I was fucking proud of that little plan; I wasn’t going to lie. “It was easy, really; you know the history of that place. It had been held up more times than one could count. I found someone that was desperate, and threw money at him. Then sat back and watched as it gloriously unfolded. I watched as the life bled out from her mother’s eyes. You know, the last thing that stupid bitch saw before she died...ME!”

I watched as Damon struggled to control the anger. I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered the shock in my Kitten’s mother’s eyes. The fear of knowing I was still alive, that there would be nothing she could do to stop me from taking her daughter, for good this time. I laughed out loud. It had been a perfect day for me.

“She broke beautifully, by the way. The only thing I hadn’t accounted for was everything that happened when she arrived here.”

“The fuck you mean by that?” He was like a bear with a sore head, so much anger, so much rage pent up, and he refused to do anything without consulting my Kitten first. “It must be eating at you. The fact that you can’t come after me, that you have to be subservient to a woman.”

“Trying to emasculate me now, big man?” Snarling at me, Damon ran his hands through his hair; he knew I had him where I wanted. The idiot had given me the reaction I was looking for. If they were looking to play mind games with me, they would have to start trying a little harder. “Tell me, Kyle, did it make you feel like a man, beating on a young woman? Did you feel big when you treated her like she was nothing more than a fucking sex doll?”

“A good backhand never hurt anyone; you use what you need to keep those lesser than you in line.” I didn’t understand why he had started down this route; he would never know what I felt about her.

“And the mark on her neck?” He was pacing now, struggling to stay in control. Particularly difficult, as he was used to having more primal methods to let out his anger.

“Oh, that is my own personal method of reminding her who she belongs to; you know, nothing like a permanent reminder that you have a master that isn’t afraid to mark you.” I smiled at him; he should have known by then that they were only wasting my time. My father would’ve already started the search for me. “Hey Damon, when am I going to see my Kitten? My dick is a little cold, and she is due for a good fucking.”

It was probably the wrong thing to say, because as soon as it left my mouth, he was on me, hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing tight. I was laughing at him, even as light started dancing across my vision.

“Damon, let him go. It isn’t time yet.” It was the last thing I heard before his fist connected with my face, and I descended back into the safety of my darkness.

Chapter Nine - Stryker

The foul stench of death lingered in the halls. The warehouse had been in my family for years. So when I’d told Dad about needing a place to house a fucking maggot, he’d given me the go-ahead to use it. The dim lighting in the halls did nothing to dull the ominous feeling that was left as you walked through them. It was kind of fitting, though, considering the person we were hiding was supposed to be dead.

Once Damon had showed up at the hospital, informing us of everything he and his guys had learned, I knew I needed to find out what was on those tapes. I had to know what the asshole had done to her, but more importantly, I had to know who had been there watching him as he tortured my Firecracker. Waking Jonah up, we left to get answers.

The sick fuck had not only beaten the shit out of my girl, but he’d kept her drugged up and fucking raped her. Now she was lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, black and blue. What hurt more was that no one knew how she would be when she woke up. Jonah had called her friend Angel the night we rescued her, and all she could tell us was that she’d locked herself inside of herself the last time.

According to her best friend, the girl we knew was nothing like the girl she had first met. No, the person she was before, that girl was afraid of her own shadow and would rarely talk. She wouldn’t even let her own mother touch her. Jonah and I worried that we were going to lose her all over again. She would become timid and shy, withdrawing into herself, and cut us all out. I fucking hated to think about it, but I had an idea for helping her through the trauma ; I just had to let everyone else in on it first.

The moment I saw her in Logan’s arms, unmoving and limp, I had felt my world shatter. When I’d caught sight of her appearance, it had made me physically sick. The anger which had simmered was back, as were the images of her naked, battered body.

“What the fuck happened to her?” I demanded, running up to Logan. He thought he could tell me to wait by the car. That was laughable, but I was glad I hadn’t listened to him. My Firecracker looked like she had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

“Stryker, not now,” Logan warned. There was a mixture of shock and pain in his voice. What the fuck happened down that corridor? I should have straight up refused and been with Damon and him. They’d better have put a bullet through the fucker’s eyes. “I told you to wait at the car.”

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