Malice (Dahlia Saga Book 1)

by Natalie Bennett

  The words cunt and whore were carved into her thighs and burned into her sternum.

  She was in a world of pain, and it still wasn't good enough. I let her live. I didn’t kill her off like I had the two friends she arrived in Riverview with. I even gave her the privilege of sucking my cock, and how did she repay me? By taking Morgana away.

  Her audacity to lie right to my face only angered me more. Swearing Morgana had found the keys to my Barracuda on her own…how could she be so stupid? The entire Château was equipped with high-quality surveillance cameras.

  Every lie and every truth she told were in colored high definition for my viewing. I'm sure she would be screaming from the things I'd done to her the past forty-eight hours, but I’d sewn her mouth shut after Belle knocked a few teeth from it.

  I retrieved the meat cleaver from a side-table, and her whimpers turned to high-pitched mewls, my intentions becoming abundantly clear.

  They meant nothing to me. She meant nothing to me. She’d overstepped her bounds and made herself expendable. My fingertips traced over her exposed neck before I brought the thick blade down.

  It didn't decapitate her, but it did enough. Cutting down into flesh, blood spurted in multiple directions, running over her face, across either side of her split skin, raining down on the floor. The way her neck looked reminded me of a hard taco shell.

  I pushed harder, dug deeper, wishing I’d kept her mouth open so I could hear her last screams. Her death was anticlimactic.

  A deep sigh expelled from my chest. This just wasn't my poison anymore. I wasn't having a change of heart; more a change of passion.

  At one point, killing was all I wanted, all I knew. Now, it was just a means to make money. Let the hired 'butchers' play out the deranged fantasies the clients wanted. I needed to find something else to preoccupy my time.

  I needed Morgana.

  She had to come back.

  This went beyond my need to possess her. There was still too much to do; she was a vital pawn in my plan to reach the top.

  I’d told her once that if she ran from me, she should worry about what would happen when I caught her. She didn't need to worry anymore; she needed to be fucking terrified.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I was suffocating in unknown territory.

  In Riverview, I had a simple routine. I knew where to go and where not to go. In Redwood, it was near impossible to blend in. The town may have been even smaller than Riverview, which was saying something.

  My funds were running low, the car was sitting on empty, and I'd been holed up inside the Ruby Motel since the day I arrived. I knew I needed to go in search of work, but it was hard enough getting out of bed.

  I kept thinking of what was inside me, becoming more human with each passing day. In the big picture, I knew there was no way I was ready for a baby. The last thing the world needed was a mini Julian or Morgana running around. I just couldn't get rid of it, either.

  So, what was I going to do? I didn't know.

  I'd wasted enough of my time praying to a god that didn't give a damn about me.

  It felt like I was watching my life go by from the sidelines. I was drowning. It was to the point where I was ready to stop struggling and just be still, watch the world fade away while my lungs filled with water.

  When I thought back to the things I saw at the Chateau, my mind told me that none of it was real. Before Julian took me, I was never at risk of being this crazy. Yes, I had some anxiety issues, and occasionally I pierced my flesh with a blade, but that didn’t make me as insane as I was now.

  Fingers tugged at my scalp, pulling strands of my balayage hair until it hurt. I needed pain. Julian had taken that dilemma away.

  The adrenaline rush he gave me was my drug of choice. I craved the way he made me soar.

  Now that I didn't have him, things I never noticed before were noticeable. Feelings I tried to avoid were unavoidable. And even though I shouldn't, I missed that beautifully wicked man with the part of me that was as rotten as he was.

  He had successfully wrapped his barbed wire chains around a piece of my soul. We were so terrible for one another, so dysfunctional and twisted, but when our bodies came together, we were soul mates. He got inside my head and made himself at home.

  I leaned back on the retro flower comforter. The lumpy pillow cradled my head. With eyes closed, I conjured a memory of us together, sliding my hand across my navel, pausing as if someone were watching before moving a little lower.

  I look over at the clock, irritated for a reason I don't understand. No. I do understand. Julian isn't in bed, and it's almost four in the morning.

  His side is still perfectly made; he was never here at all.

  Huffing out a breath, I roll onto my stomach and close my eyes.

  I'm not sure how many minutes pass before he creeps into the room without making a sound. The smell of sweat, cologne, and a hint of something metallic reaches my nose.

  "I love seeing you in my bed, Dollface," he murmurs from behind me, coming closer. My anger spikes. "I can't tell, seeing as you're never in it." He makes a little humming sound in his throat a second before his palm comes down on my ass.

  I yelp, launching onto my knees.

  "We've talked about your mouth a few times too many. I have something better you can do with it."

  I try to spin around to glare at him, but his strong hands land on my hips and keep me firmly in place.

  "Did you want me to fuck you? Is that why you're upset?" The smile in his voice adds to my irritation.

  "No," I bite out defiantly, knowing he's seconds away from finding out that's exactly what my problem is.

  It's his fault; he made me need him like a nightly prescription. If I miss a single pill, everything is off kilter the next day.

  He places his left hand on my barren sex; I wear nothing under my sleep shirts as per his request, so it's not hard for him to have access in the middle of the night.

  "Are you sure?" He brings his firm chest into my back; I press my ass into his erection.

  "No answer? It doesn't matter; your wet pussy tells me everything I need to know. But...I think you want it...here" His hands grip my ass cheeks and spread them apart.

  "Not there," I rush out. He ignores me and moves away. There's a soft rustling sound behind me, and I know it's him getting undressed.

  My body tenses, expecting him to take me without foreplay as he usually does, so it more than a little surprises me when he parts my cheeks again, and I feel his warm breath on my puckered hole.

  "What are you doing?" He answers me with a soft chuckle, causing another breath of hot air to leave his mouth. I shudder at the sensation.

  His tongue starts at the back of my pussy and swipes up to my ass. I'm not sure what to make of this at first...it's foreign. But he just continues, licking me from front to back and, with each pull of his tongue, he presses harder.

  He digs his fingers into my globes, pulling them apart even farther so he can dip his tongue inside me. It's so taboo...and so different...A moan unfurls in my chest and pours from my mouth, followed by another.

  The tip of his tongue moves in and out of my ass. He lets go of my left cheek and pushes two fingers into my pussy. My wet sex makes sloppy noises as he curves them inside me, finding my G-spot. His tongue never stops moving for a second. I begin to squirm, feeling a tingle in my lower spine.

  Julian makes a growly sound in his throat. With him controlling my movements and an overwhelming pressure building within me, I concentrate on him using me to fuck his face.

  "Jules." His name is a mere whisper. I want him inside me; I want him to make me hurt.

  "I know," he breathes out, digging his nails into my ass so hard he breaks the skin and draws blood. I moan in response.

  "More," I whine as he digs in deeper. His mouth leaves my hole, and his cock quickly replaces it.

  "More?" I know he doesn't expect an answer. His full-length pushes inside my ass; he shoves my face into th
e mattress almost to the point of suffocation and starts to thrust with a brutal amount of force.

  I moan and groan into his silk sheets, breathing heavy through my mouth and nose. He slaps each cheek in quick succession before wrapping my long hair around his fist and yanking my head back.

  Tears pool in my eyes, spilling down my face. His hand knots in my hair, and the pain from how hard he's fucking me is complete delectation. My head is bent so far back it's hard to swallow; he arches my back even more, allowing him to go deeper.

  He fucks me as if he hates me. Our heavy breaths, my delirious moans, his balls smacking into my ass, and the bed rocking beneath us are the only sounds in the room.

  He knows I'm going to come and shoves my face down, suffocating me on purpose. He grabs my hips in a way meant to crush bone. Pleasure blooms in my core. The harsh love bite he delivers on my shoulder pushes me all the way over.

  "Julian..." My eyes flew open, my chest heaved, and my clit tingled where my fingers still stroked it. I was spread-eagle with my hand in my shorts, masturbating to the memory of the man who raped and kidnapped me. What was wrong with me?

  Movement from the corner of my eye, near the window, had me jolting up in bed. Goose pimples spread down my arms and up my legs. Was someone watching me? I stared, waiting. Nothing happened. If someone had been there, they were gone now.

  Fighting my way past the paranoia that swarmed me, I went into the bathroom to wash my hands and figure out a course of action.

  I could afford two more nights here, and that was it. I wasn't sure if I should move on from Redwood, stay and make myself blend in, or find a gas station to fill up enough to get me to the next town.

  Whatever I decided, I had to figure this crap out sooner than later. I couldn't spend my days aimlessly driving around, but I couldn't hole up in a place less than four hours from Riverview, either.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was quiet here, and I liked that.

  Silence was something I hadn't been granted in a long time. After checking on the gray Civic I’d gotten from a trade, I continued my way. If Julian was looking for me, which I had no doubt he was, I didn't want the car out in the open, so I left it in the back of the motel.

  An elderly woman waved to me from across the street, standing in front of a hardware store. My first inclination was to ignore her; I hated any kind of attention.

  But I didn't want my reclusive nature to start gossip, so I gave a friendly wave back.

  The humidity in the air was countered by a gentle breeze that blew every few minutes, lifting strands of my hair with it. Redwood reminded me of the towns in old western movies, except all the storefronts had been modernized.

  The smell of hot food from a nearby diner permeated the air; my stomach immediately let me know it needed sustenance. I hadn't eaten anything but granola bars and ice chips the last two days.

  Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I eyed the busy diner, knowing my hunger wasn't robust enough to make me go inside. The thought of being in a room full of people made my skin crawl.

  I glanced around, wondering what to do with myself.

  Today was the first day I'd ventured out of my room, and with the town layout being new to me, I wasn't sure which way to go.

  Looking down the street, I saw a sign hanging from a modest library that looked more like a giant red barn and decided to head in that direction.

  In my haste to get to the building, I stepped out into the crosswalk without looking. At the last second, I became cognizant of the car I’d just walked in front of. Tires screeched an ugly sound; a bumper stopped a fraction away from my legs.

  "I...I'm so sorry." With my heart in my throat, I tapped the hood of the police cruiser before hurrying across the street.

  "Hey!" a masculine voice called after me. I pretended to be none the wiser and continued walking. I'd had an impromptu run-in with the chief of police, Roger, when I checked into the motel.

  He was an odd man who had stared at me in an utterly disconcerting way, watching my every move. I didn't fancy meeting anyone else associated with the Redwood Police Department.

  The sound of heavy footsteps had me whirling back around.

  A man in uniform was jogging towards me. A scream bubbled up from my throat and my hands came up to brace myself for a collision.

  My palms hit a solid chest. Brawny hands grabbed my elbows, turning us in a circle so neither of us fell.

  "I wasn't going to tackle you," he laughed.

  "Then why would you run after me like that?”

  "Are you really in the position to ask me that? Did you not just step your skinny ass out in front of my squad car?" He quirked a neatly groomed brow, amusement dancing in his silver eyes.

  Aware that he was still holding me, I shot a pointed look to where his hands rested. He immediately let me go and stepped back.

  He didn't look much older than I was; he’d had to of known someone in town to get onto the force. I kept my gaze trained on his face after my first sweep over his toned body.

  "I'm sorry, I really am. My mind—" Is fucked in a majorly disturbing way?"—was someplace else."

  He didn't say anything; he openly let his gaze drift down my body. Uncomfortable, I crossed my arms and took note of the badge on his shirt. K. Moore.

  "Um, am I in trouble? Can I go?" I didn't like his eyes on me; it felt like a million ants were skittering across my skin, their tiny legs starting to make me itch.

  "What's your name?" He cocked his head to the side and studied me a little more intensely.

  "Morgana. Can I go now?" I was already taking baby steps around him, ready to bolt if I had to.

  "Morgana." He rolled it between his lips before doing the same with his thumb. I didn't like the way he said my name, and I really didn't like the look in his eyes.

  The whole scenario reminded me too much of Julian—his burning gaze, smooth voice, handsome face, and cocky demeanor. K. Moore didn't look like Julian, but I wouldn't take him to court if he said they were related. Moore had dark blonde hair and an angular face. His height wasn't too far off mine.

  All I wanted at that moment was to run to the library and get as far away from him, as fast as I could.

  "Pay more attention to your surroundings, Morgana." He gave me a faint smile and walked back towards his car.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I was out of the Porsche before my brother fully braked.

  My steps were even, unhurried.

  The Barracuda sat at the very front of the midsized lot. Matt had used every resource available to clean it up before smacking an absurdly low sticker price on the windshield.

  Motherfucker.

  A bell chimed above the glass door, alerting the grease monkey that I was inside. It took me less than a minute to get a read on him.

  He was nervous, his left eye twitched, and there was already a bead of sweat rolling past his brown mustache.

  "Jul... Mr. Andreou, I didn't know to expect you today." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, slightly widened eyes stared at me.

  I wanted him to stew a little. Walking around his tidy shop, my eyes scanned the shiny chrome rims hanging on the wall, feigning interest.

  "My wife really likes my car. I've been looking for another, and I see that you have an identical model right out front. This must be fate." I gave him the brightest smile I could manage, resting my hands comfortably in my slack pockets.

  Nothing about my body language gave away how badly I wanted to paint the shop red with his blood. And in just a few minutes, I would.

  "Uh...yeah. I've had that gem for about a month now."

  "Have you?" How big an idiot did he think I was?

  Rubbing my chin, pretending to contemplate something, I watched his chest move up and down.

  He was starting to panic.

  Cars like mine didn't just drop from the sky. The fucking vin number would give it away, regardless. His head snapped back towards the door as Luca entered.
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  "Matty! It's been a while; haven't seen you at Dahlia in a few weeks." Luca pulled the door shut and turned the lock before giving Matt a gleeful smile.

  "I've been tied up here." He gave a nervous laugh, resting a hand on his rotund stomach.

  Silence ensued. Did he think we would just leave? It almost felt like a parody.

  "Let's cut the shit, Matty. That shiny piece of metal out there belongs to my brother and we both know who it came from." Luca lowered his voice, resting his elbows on the counter.

  Matt's dirty brown eyes darted between us. His fear becoming tangible. I loved it. With Luca and me doing nothing but staring at him, his facade shattered.

  "She looked like she needed help, and then she begged me for it. I didn't know who she was. I—"

  "You conveniently forgot the car you tracked down for me in the first place was mine? And she needed help? I find that humorous, considering how unhelpful you are to women when you visit the Chateau." I removed my suit jacket and began to roll my sleeves up.

  "What are you going to do?" He looked towards his only exit, knowing he was fucked.

  "What you're going to do is get me the paperwork on whatever you gave her to drive, my plates, and my keys. Then, you and I are going to have one last chat before I leave."

  By the look on his face, he knew he was going to die. Shame I couldn't draw out the suspense, play on his emotions a bit longer.

  I was on a timetable; there was still a whole planner of tasks that needed to be finished. My wayward wife had thrown a wrench in things. If this sorry sack of shit had done what he was supposed to, she wouldn't have made it anywhere but back to me.

  Clasping my hands in front of me, I watched him move around behind the counter. He dropped papers, stumbled around, and cleared his throat about a dozen times.

  After he had finished stalling, a manila folder was slid across the service desk; a sloppily written date was scrawled across the front of it, solidifying his blatant betrayal. It was disappointing. I was the one who helped fund his dream of opening a car lot.