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He told me he’d find me. If only he knew how much I waited for him to come for me, to leave this world and be with him; but now I know why he didn’t. He had to take over from his father. When he offers a goodbye to the men, he finally casts a glance my way. Those eyes lock on mine, and I’m sucked into his orbit.
I take note of their faces from where I’m seated, locking them to memory, because soon enough, we’ll go after each one of them, and when we do, I’ll enjoy every bloody moment they offer me. Drake returns, offering me his hand, which I accept. He pulls me to my feet, his body flush with mine, and his mouth finds my ear once more.
“We need to go down to the viewing room. I’m going to make a call to River to let him know to bring the team now. Stay calm. Don’t be alarmed if I do anything out of character. I will not hurt you.”
My mouth falls open, but no words come out. I jerk my chin down once in silent agreement, attempting to swallow the lump of fear sitting in my throat. I follow the man I’m entrusting my life to as we make our way into the depths of another hell.
The room we enter is less opulent — a stark contrast to where we just were. There are seats set out as if we’re in a cinema. Drake pulls me toward him; settling himself in one of the luxurious seats, he tugs me onto his lap.
“I want you close,” he tells me in a hushed tone that skitters over my skin. His arm lazily drapes over my lap, and the other wraps around my middle. The room fills up quickly, and soon enough, the black curtains are opened onto a scene that’s straight from a horror show. On the stage is a girl bound by her wrists. She’s naked except for a pair of panties that hug her slight frame.
My eyes prick with tears when I take her in, when the memories assault me with a vengeance so fierce I want to throw up. Drake’s gentle touch grips me tight, his fingers holding onto me as if I’m spinning and can’t stop, and he’s the only thing grounding me.
“Focus,” he whispers. He pulls out his phone, tapping a message I can’t see. Once he’s done, he slides the device into his pocket. The footfalls of men sound from the stage, and I glance up to see five men circling the girl like vultures about to feast on the decaying meat of a carcass.
“Good evening, gentleman, and a special good evening to the beautiful Ms. Easton, whose birthday it is today,” Yeoman, the man who attended the dinner parties with Thanos says, his gaze lingering on the girl for far too long. Three women dressed all in black enter. They’re all made up with hair and makeup that looks professionally done, joining the men on stage.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DRAKE
Caia is shaking on my lap. I know fear has a hold of her, but if she can’t get through this, she’ll never be able to kill her father in cold blood. She needs to learn to be stronger, to be tougher. My hands on her body hold her steady, keeping her from toppling from my lap as one of the women on stage walks up to the girl, pulling her underwear from her hips.
Once she’s completely naked, one of the men kneels, spreading the slim legs of the girl and leans in. Running his nose up and down her inner thighs, we hear the groan that his action elicits as it rumbles through his chest.
“Perfect purity,” he utters when he rises. My stomach turns with acidic bile, but I can’t stop my cock from throbbing. I’ve been conditioned, and it saddens me that I can’t stop it. Caia glances at me, and I know she can feel my erection against her ass.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her soundlessly. My lips moving, but my voice is hidden from the assholes we’re surrounded by. I don’t know why I’m apologizing; Caia knows I’m a monster, but I don’t want her to hate me. My anger gets the better of me most times, and I know I’m volatile.
She leans in and whispers in my ear, “I understand.” There’s a screech from the stage, and all I see is blood trickling down the girl’s thighs, down to her calves. I notice one of the guests chuckling beside Ms. Easton holding onto a long, thick dildo which has spikes protruding from the shaft.
The crimson liquid stains her porcelain flesh, and my cock shamelessly hardens, pressing against Caia, wanting entrance, needing slick warmth.
Shutting my eyes, my fingers dig into my little bird’s thigh in an attempt to shove the image from my mind. A soft whimper from her doesn’t help when her lips graze my ear. Her heated breath sending my need skyrocketing. My blood burns for her; it’s at boiling point, and I’m praying, I’m fucking praying for salvation, because all I want to do is fuck Caia while watching the horrific scene on the stage.
