by Tate James
The next time I woke, I could have easily been inside a nightmare. Chase's leering, one-eyed face loomed over me. He spoke to me in low, quiet words that I couldn't make out over the deafening rush of my pulse inside my head. But it was enough to spark the memory of how I’d ended up where I was.
The arrest.
Jeanette stopping her car about half an hour out of Cloudcroft and getting out to meet with a dark-suited man. Jeanette getting shot in the head. The back door being opened and the stinging bite of a tranquilizer dart in my neck as I tried to fight back.
Zed's betrayal.
Zed’s goddamn fucking betrayal.
How could he? I trusted him more than anyone.
This time when the blackness of drugged sleep reeled me back in, I went willingly. Anything was better than reliving the pain of Zed's lie. With just one flippant comment from Jeanette—Agent De Rosa—he'd achieved the one thing Chase had failed at for so many years. He'd broken me.
Pain became my constant companion from that point on. As the drug dripped through the IV Chase hooked me up to coursed through my veins like fire, the agony of my best friend's treachery scorched holes in my soul. He'd set me up. All the years we'd worked together, all the people we'd killed... and this was what he pinned me for? A crime I didn't even commit—would never commit. Not her.
Poor Maxine. Now whoever had really killed her would walk free, and for the first time in a long time, I was powerless to change that.
She deserved better.
I deserved better.
Or... maybe I didn't. Maybe karma was finally catching up with me, doling out punishment for all my crimes in the form of Chase motherfucking Lockhart. What had that crazy bitch Jeanette said? He was an FBI director now?
No. Wait, she elaborated while on the road. He wasn't actually a director. Not yet. How the fuck he'd even managed to cover his crazy long enough to get into the bureau in the first place... who fucking knew. Everything had a price, I supposed.
Dimly my body registered motion, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake myself out of the drugged haze. Not that it even mattered. Chase had won.
In a way, he'd done me a favor by keeping me so heavily sedated while he transported me god knows where. It gave me a place to hide, a reason to close my eyes to the atom bomb Zed had just dropped on our lives.
I was being weak, I knew that. But I was so utterly exhausted, sick to death of being strong all the time. I simply had nothing left. No motivation to fight. No will to continue. Not when my heart hurt so much.
More drugs burned through my veins, and I surrendered to the dark abyss. Nothingness was the best I could have hoped for. Much better than the hopelessness and heartbreak of my semi-conscious but paralyzed state.
Time lost all meaning as I drifted endlessly through the blackness of my own medicated sleep, but at some point, the motion stopped. At some point, the drugs began to fade from my system, and the gut-wrenching agony of awareness gripped me once more.
"Wakey, wakey Sleeping Beauty," Chase's leering voice sang, grating across my mind like a rusty razor blade.
As badly as I wanted to ignore him, I'd rather channel my anger than wallow in it. So I forced my lids to open and my eyes to focus on my psychotic ex-fiancé.
"Aw, there she is," he cooed, stroking the side of my face, "I was worried for a moment that I'd hit you a bit hard with the sedatives. You always had such a good tolerance for the hard shit, though. Didn't you, Darling?"
I drew a breath and tried to say his name, but no sound came out. His brows hitched slightly, and he shifted away to reach for something. That small movement gave me a quick glimpse of the room. Calling it a room was generous, though. More of a prison cell, complete with a steel-reinforced door and a metal toilet in the corner.
"Here, you must be thirsty," Chase murmured, pushing a thin ice cube between my lips with forceful fingers. I tasted copper and dirt on his skin and resisted the urge to dry-retch. He was right; my mouth was as dry as the Sahara. I needed that ice cube.
"Chase," I croaked when I felt more confident in my voice.
He smiled down at me like a loving partner. "Yes, my sweet?"
I needed to swallow a few more times before I could muster the energy to get the rest of my words out. Thankfully, he leaned in closer so I didn't need to do anything more than whisper.
"Go fuck yourself."
He jerked back and glared death at me, then like a light switch was flicked, he started laughing.
"Oh, Darling. Sweet, pretty Darling." He chuckled, tapping something on his knee. As far as I could tell, I was bound hand and foot to the small prison cot. I couldn't tilt my head far enough to see what he was holding. "You've gained so much spark since we last spent quality time together. I greatly look forward to snuffing it out."
If I had any saliva to spare, I'd have spat at him. But as it was, I could do nothing but sneer and offer a lame retort from my vulnerable position. "I'd like to see you try."
Chase clicked his tongue, then lifted his hand to show me the dagger he held. "Well, that's the whole reason why I brought you here, my sweet." He brought the tip of the knife to my throat, and for the briefest moment I really believed he would end it all. Right then and there. Drive that blade home through my carotid artery and finish our sick game of cat and mouse once and for all.
For a moment, I hoped he would.
But this was Chase, and nothing was ever so simple. He turned the knife over and carefully, methodically, sliced away my clothing. Piece by piece, he tossed scraps of torn fabric over his shoulder, grinning like a crocodile when he discovered my lack of underwear. Yet another knife in the back from Zed.
Had he known when he took my panties? Had he known I was about to be arrested? I was going to fucking kill him. If I got free... when I got free... he was fucking dead.
"As much as I'd like to think you dressed just for me," Chase murmured, his breathing heavy as his hands gripped my thighs, "you had no clue what was waiting for you, did you?"
I couldn't stop myself from jerking with shock as his fingers pushed inside me, rough and demanding. My stomach knotted, and an acidic wave of old fear washed through me. For a second, all I could feel was pure hopelessness like I was right back where I’d been as a teenager. Totally and completely at Chase Lockhart's mercy.
But that feeling only lasted a second before anger and outrage washed it away. I wasn't that girl anymore. I'd fought tooth and nail to put her so firmly in my past I'd be damned if I let Chase's assault erase all my hard work. I wasn't his Darling. I was Hades.
Forcing my lips to curl in a cold smile, I gave a hard laugh. "You're disgusting," I spat. "Some things never change."
Chase's jaw tightened, and he shoved his fingers deeper in retaliation. But when I gave no reaction this time, he pulled them out and slapped me hard across the face, hard enough to make my head spin and my ears ring, but I'd happily take a thousand slaps over the alternative.
"You think you're so tough now, huh?" he sneered, swiping his fingers across my lips and leaving the taste of myself behind. "You think you're so untouchable. Well, Darling, I have news for you." He leaned down close, his lips brushing the side of my face as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've broken you before; I'll do it again. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."
Instead of the maniacal laughter I might have expected to follow that statement, he gripped my face with his hand and crushed his lips to mine. The shock of it gave him the upper hand, but it barely took me a second to regain my wits and bite the hell out of his lip as he tried to kiss me deeper.
Blood filled my mouth, and I released his lip. But he didn't pull away completely, just gave a throaty chuckle and licked a long, bloody line up the side of my face.
"Oh yeah," he groaned. "This is better than I'd imagined."
His hands trailed down my body, groping every damn inch of me before he made a satisfied sound and stood up. "Don't worry, my sweet demon; I'll get you nice and warmed
up before we start the real fun." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a preloaded syringe. Staring down at me with a deranged smile, he plucked the safety cap off the needle, then bent over my arm. I was bound so securely, at wrist and above my elbow, there was no chance of wriggling free as he found a vein and slid the needle home.
"Chase," I gasped, unable to help myself as fear washed through my whole damn body. "Please. Don't..."
It was pointless, though. He'd already pushed his thumb down on the syringe, and the fire of drugs burned up my arm. No sweet darkness of sleep claimed me this time. Nope, he removed the needle and smirked his victory as the familiar, dreaded high hit my brain.
"I'll be back to play soon," he assured me. "Let's leave that to sink in a bit first."
Terror gripped me, even as my hold on reality started to slide. "Chase, please, don't do this."
"Aw, begging so soon? Nah, that doesn't sound desperate enough. Don't worry, though. We'll get there. Sweet dreams, Darling." With a snicker, he shut the lights off, plunging the room into darkness. The door opened briefly, just long enough for him to slip out then slam it behind him.
The loud scrape and clang of the heavy bolt on the other side echoed through my pitch-black cell in a way that rattled me right to the core. Shame filled me as a few hot tears rolled down my cheeks, but I quickly swallowed it back.
It was too soon. Chase had barely even started, and if I knew him like I did... there would be a long road to go yet. I needed to get control. He'd done so much worse to me in the past. I'd endured such horrific abuse over the years at his hands, yet I'd survived it all. I'd survived it then, just like I would now.
Besides, one dose of PCP wasn't going to kill me. I'd endured way more and lived to tell the tale. Still... the blackness of the room was suffocating me, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Better to keep them closed than see things that weren't really there.
Yeah. Like that would stop it.
The clang of the door jerked my head up. I opened my eyes automatically, refusing to be helpless when Chase walked back in. All I found, however, was unrelenting darkness. It clawed at my naked skin. Icy hands pinched and groped. Was it even real? Was it Chase fucking with me? The drugs messing with my head?
The drag of blunted nails over my breasts barely registered.
He'd done worse.
I kept my mouth closed and my jaw tight.
"What do you think, old friend?" Chase's voice was right in my ear, and I swore even the darkness recoiled as though it didn't want to be close to him. My shoulders could barely move and there was no slack on my wrists and arms; still, I leaned away. I'd rather rip my fucking arms off than let him breathe on me.
"I think you suck at this." Zed.
Fuck me.
Tears flooded my eyes. That voice was right there. Right next to me. As familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
"You've never understood how to break her."
"Oh, I know her better than you think. I know you both better than you think." Chase let go with another nasally laugh. This time he was right in front of me, and he gripped my face again. The darkness peeled back, and his vicious skull was right in my face. The flesh melted away leaving only the mangled skull and the black eyepatch.
"You're an ugly fucking pirate."
He chuckled. "Am I? Well, look at what Zed brought you."
I wouldn't look. I didn't want to see Zed. I couldn't. Not after all of this. Not when my fucking heart leapt just to hear him. His betrayal was still an open, festering wound.
Not that Chase gave a damn; he dug his fingers into my face, wrenching my head to the side. It didn't hurt, but I couldn't stop myself from seeing.
Zed stood there, a stone-faced sentinel with Lucas at his feet.
"How do you think you'll like your dancer with one eye?" Chase asked. "What do you think Zed, my old friend; should we take the eye or the cock?"
"Does it matter?" Zed sounded almost bored. "Just put a bullet in him. You want to hurt her, don’t you? She loves this pathetic bastard so much; it’ll decay her soul knowing he died because of her."
No.
I opened my mouth but no sound came out, and the darkness rushed in, stealing my voice. They were laughing. In the dark.
The flash of a muzzle.
Smothering in the blackness, I choked on my screams.
Water dripped somewhere. The plopping fell like a metronome. The continuous sound raked over my every nerve. I swore they were on fire. Maybe that was where he'd burned me. Had he burned me? Wait...
"Dare," Seph whispered into the darkness, and I jerked my head up. I fought to look past the water running over my eyes, but they stung when I blinked. No, she wasn't here. Seph wasn't here.
Exhaustion pulled my head back down.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Dare, you think you're such a badass you can ignore me now? I'm not a child you know."
I squinted through the darkness. Only it wasn't dark. It was bright. Too bright. The light hit me from every angle, and I held up a hand to block it out before it burned my retinas. The moisture gathering in the corners of my eyes spilled down my cheeks.
"What the hell are you wearing?"
Instead of her uniform or even jeans and a T-shirt, Seph was dressed in the skimpiest piece of lingerie. It was pitch black and set off her pale skin perfectly. Even her red hair looked lustrous, a bright flame amidst the porcelain and onyx. "Do you like it?"
She did a little shimmy walk like she was on a runway—in my Louboutin stilettos. Confusion and irritation vied for control.
"Daddy got it for me."
A fist in my hair dragged me upward, and I stared into the empty sockets of my father. His face had rotted like something out of a zombie movie. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
"Daddy and Chase are going to have a party that's just for me." Seph all but skipped over to me and then pressed a kiss on our father's rotting cheek. "Daddy still loves me." The happiness she radiated flooded my mouth with bile. The innocence. "Don't worry; we found the others. They're coming too."
She held out her hand, and Diana took it. Diana wore the same skimpy, awful outfit and it looked even worse on her child body.
"Virginity gets quite the high price," my father whispered in my ear, the rough sound like a thousand insects clicking and crawling. They were falling off of him and onto me. I wanted to shrug them off. But this wasn't real.
"This isn't real," I said. "Not real."
"You're such a selfish bitch," Seph complained. "Even now, you have to have everything your way. Well, it's not. Hades is dead; long live Persephone, the new queen of the underworld."
Our father's corpse laughed, and black ichor sprayed like flecks over my skin. "You never asked her what she wanted, did you?"
My heart was in so many pieces, shattered on the rocks. The lighthouse was gone. Cass...Cass...
I swallowed.
"She didn't," Seph protested and suddenly her hair was up in a pair of pigtails, and she twirled around. "She never asks me anything. She didn't even bother to see if I wanted to be sold. The man who would pay for me would want me. And I know just who my high bidder is gonna be."
A shudder of revulsion went through me. This wasn't Seph. A hand closed over my throat, and I slammed against a wall. Once. Twice. On the third slam, I cut open my eyes to see Chase leering down at me.
"If you beg me to fuck you, I'll keep her safe for you. That's all you wanted, isn't it Dare? For your baby sister to be an ungrateful little bitch, sheltered from the world?" I really didn't care what he did with me. "I can make that happen for you, Dare. What other man in your life could do that for you?"
I licked my lips. They were so dry. The dripping was still there. My mouth tasted like copper.
Belatedly the dripping made sense. I was melting. Chipped. Split. Cracked. Broken. Bleeding away. Good. Then I wouldn't feel this for much longer. The emptiness in my soul, the gouged-out place where my heart used to be.
I slammed my head forward
into Chase's.
The next time I opened my eyes, I was alone. The lights were on. Chains hung from the ceiling. I tried not to focus on anything for too long. The walls were melting—no they were bleeding. I pushed my hands down against the floor and shoved myself upward.
Blood crusted my nails. The skin over my knuckles was littered with bruises and scrapes. My panting breaths came in faster, shallower gulps. I had to slow it down. Calm down. I peeked at the bleeding walls again—yeah, still bleeding.
Slowly, because my stomach lurched at the idea of moving, I turned in a circle.
Alone.
Good.
Now... door.
If I put one foot in front of the other, I could get to the door.
Then I could figure out how to open it.
One problem at a time.
"You're so pathetic," a voice as familiar as my own said in an almost bored tone. "How the fuck did you take over the Timberwolves again?"
Head turning, I fought against my reaction. The woman leaning against the far wall was me. Her expression was cool, remote, unapproachable. Every inch Hades. The woman Cass had been so reluctant to even touch.
"This is pathetic." She motioned to me. "Why are you sniveling?"
"I'm not," I argued, even as my voice cracked and a sob tried to escape.
"I just think it's sad.” Daria Wolff shook her head. She wasn't alone. Hannah stood at her side taking notes. "You had so much potential. But look where you ended up."
"Right back where you started," Hayden decried. "How the hell did you fuck up what we spent years dreaming of?"
"Because she let the boys into her bed and into her heart." Dare's voice cut the worst of all. "Zed rejected us before, but did we remember that? Nah. Not when he fucked us until we needed a damn ice pack. And now where is he? Off sucking Chase's dick or something? You should get that man an Oscar. It only took them twelve years, but they finally beat you."
"They haven't beaten me."