No Mercy: A Darker Continuation

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No Mercy: A Darker Continuation Page 8

by Bane, Lucian

  He looked at her with worry. “I’m sorry too, Angel.”

  She wiped her eyes allowing all her suspicion about Sade to dam the tidal wave of pain. “He was hit by a fucking car, I remember now. Did you know him?”

  He slowly shook his head, still looking guarded. “No.”

  Why did he hesitate? Why was he so guarded? “Can I ask you questions?”

  “Please do,” he said, seeming glad and yet maybe worried.

  She stared at him, trying to figure out what to ask first, trying to stop the tremble in her limbs. Maybe she should match stories. “How did we meet?”

  Another fucking hesitation? All this stalling, what was up with him? “What did Bo tell you?”

  She wiped her eyes more, focusing and gathering her shit together. “I-I think that’s private. Can’t you just answer me? Oh my God,” she whispered, remembering. “I was trained.” She stared at him with wide eyes. “I. Was fucking. Trained!”

  “You were, yes,” he said carefully.

  “By my father, he trained me,” she gasped, thinking harder. “But for fucking what? Why?” She eyed him now to see if he knew. “Why are you staring at me like that?

  He shook his head slowly. “Just… you’re dropping the F-bomb a lot.”

  She drew back a little. “I’m… is that not normal?”

  “Not for you,” he said a little emphatically. “Not this much.”

  God, another problem. She put her fingers to her forehead. “I just…I’m so confused,” she whispered. “The word feels like… maybe I used it a lot, like-like-um. A thinking word.”

  He shook his head. “If you did, you didn’t do it out loud. I think… maybe you lost some of your training? The mental stuff?”

  She thought about that and nodded a little. Then a lot. “That has to be it. I’ll get that back then?”

  “Or you’ll relearn it. Either way,” he held his hands up like he was negotiating with a person on the ledge.

  She realized in that instant how erratic she was. “Sorry, I’m shaking. I must look like a crazy person to you?”

  “You look like I need to hug you. But I won’t,” he hurried. “And curse all you want baby, it doesn’t fucking bother me in the least.”

  She eyed him, realizing he was fluent with the F-word. “I take it I didn’t like using the word if I trained myself not to.”

  “Maybe. But… if it makes you feel better, I think you’re fucking beautiful either way.”

  Her heart raced as she stared at him. He certainly knew how to use that word well. His F-words were a lot different than hers. They meant fucking in the sexual sense, no matter how he used it. At least that’s how it felt to her. And she certainly felt it. Right between her legs.

  He suddenly slid his hips lower in his seat and her gaze locked on the bulge in his jeans. The sight made her body go nuts. “We met in an alley one night.” He draped his hand between his legs and her eyes shot to his, finding them burning on her. He held her captive for a few seconds before going on. “I was having my ass kicked and you showed up and saved me. Only I didn’t want saving.”

  The words he said didn’t register. She was too busy focused on what his voice seemed to be doing. And his gaze. The deep rough tone literally touched her. All over. And his eyes. They were… hypnotic. Pulling at her. Calling her to gaze into them. Was he some kind of illusionist? Enchanter? This was nuts.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Her gaze narrowed and she looked down. “What… what was the last thing you said?”

  “That I didn’t want to be saved.”

  Again his voice caused havoc. Didn’t want saving, she repeated in her mind. “Why?”

  “Because I like having my ass kicked.”

  Staring at him seemed justified as she again asked, “Why?”

  He slowly slid his jaw to one side, making her heart hammer in anticipation. “I like pain.”

  Her breath shot out with his answer. “What else do you like?” she suddenly needed to know but was afraid of his answer.

  Again he hesitated, angling his head while staring at her. It appeared like he was just trying to understand her line of questioning, but to her body he was in her face, sliding himself against her. “I like to give pain. I do that by fighting. Did,” he corrected softly. “I don’t anymore.”

  She licked her lips, breathless. “Why not?”

  “Because I have you.”

  Oh shit. Because I have you. She held tight to the words while needing to not touch them. The possessiveness in his tone sent off a million alarm bells. “How does having me, stop you from fighting?

  “It was a job I no longer have, let’s say.”

  Why almost came out but she realized she needed to focus her questions better. “So you… no longer like to cause pain?”

  He did that gaze burn again until she had the urge to look away, only it wouldn’t allow her to. “Never said that, Angel.”

  If she didn’t speed this torture chat up, she’d pass out. “You still like to cause pain?”


  “How… do you?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then how…” she shook her head, not following.

  “I do what you taught me to do.”

  This got her attention. “What did I teach you?”

  “Many things but in that one, you taught me to change.”

  “Change?” Okay, finally something that made sense a little. Was she a doctor of some kind?

  “You taught me that I can change.”

  “And you did?”

  “The fat lady hasn’t sung yet. It’s been an interesting challenge, I’ll say.”

  For the first time, her curiosity outweighed her fears with him. She suddenly had a hundred questions regarding this subject. “Am I… like your doctor?”

  He busted out in a chuckle that sent waves of new feelings through her, not as bad as the others but nothing that eased her fears either. He lowered his gaze shaking his head a little. “Not my doctor. More like my angel.”

  Chapter Nine

  He lifted his eyes, gaze back to burning. It devoured all her scattered thoughts in one moment, leaving her breathless and confused again.

  “What?” His barely whisper matched the heat in his eyes and didn’t help her. She gasped and clenched her eyes shut.

  “You remembering anything?”

  She shook her head, replaying his statement. More like my angel. Was she a missionary? A fucking nun? This was ridiculous! This man was making it hard to know who she was with him! A whore? A glorified prostitute call girl? No way, not possible. It just made no sense that she’d be with him.

  “Why am I even with you?” The question just blurted out before she could stop it.

  He didn’t seem the least bothered by it as he slowly shook his head. “I’ve been trying to figure that out. Still.”

  “Your theories?” she asked, perplexed.

  “Angel is the only thing that works in my mind. You really have no business with me. We’re oil and water.”

  “What… I mean what was my reason?”

  He gave her a small grin. “To help me.”

  To help him. “With…”

  “My sexual issues.”

  Oh hell. Hell, hell, hell, back to confusing. “You uh… you have a lot of those?”

  “Oh yeah,” he nodded, eyeing her with that pensive gaze again. “I’m a sadomasochist.”

  She swallowed under his expectant gaze.

  “We don’t have to talk about it.”

  She sensed he didn’t want to and that made her want to. But could she handle the details? Judging by the amount of curiosity that came with this topic, she was leaning in the therapist direction about herself. “I’m fine. If you are.”

  He shrugged a little, still eyeing her. “You’re the doc.”

  “I am?”

  “It’s just an expression I use with you.”


  “Because you’re always tr
ying to fix me.”

  Wow. That felt in line with her feelings about herself. “Do you… I mean when… did you decide to try and be fixed?”

  He let out a gasped laugh and lowered his head. “Baby…” he took a while before finally looking at her. “Something tells me you’re not ready to hear that answer.”

  Fire zapped through her body and froze her breath. She was suddenly trapped. The forest around her was burning, and the only way to safety was across the river. Only she had to ride on the big bad wolf’s back. She stared at him like a dummy, speechless.

  “Yeah,” he said, lowering his grin. “That’s what I thought. I fucking missed you while you slept.” He regarded her as though to see what she thought of that.

  Her mind thought nothing of it, but her body continued to sizzle in a constant heat.

  “You okay?”

  The genuine question was soft and… sexual somehow. She absently grabbed her notebook off her bed and fanned her face. “So you… like to kill people?”

  He lowered his head and stroked the bridge of his nose with an index finger. There was something familiar in her mind about it. “I never like killing. I like hurting. Not killing.”

  “Was it… like accidents? The killing part?”

  “No. It was a job.”

  “You were paid to kill?”


  “How did I not turn you into the police is what I’m wondering.”

  “Fair question.” His silver eyes swallowed her whole. “I always fall back on the angel theory when I wonder that.”

  “Is there… blackmail in any of this?”

  “Not on my part.”

  “On mine?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “So… we’re together because… I happened to save your life and found out you were a sadomasochist… and I fell in love?” She rubbed her temples now. “This is… very stupid, no offense, but it’s not making sense.”

  He gave a light chuckle with a smile. “You’re missing a few details and your timeline is a bit off. You’ll get it though, I’ll help.”

  He’d help? Help what, was the problem. She may have forgotten details, but she was sure she didn’t want him to help with her memories. She pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking becoming a literal pain.

  “Why are you scared of me?”

  The sudden question jerked her insides. “I don’t know,” she blurted honestly. “I was hoping to figure that out.”

  “You have any theories? Or maybe Bo?”

  She shook her head without thought, wondering if he were prone to fits of jealous rage.

  Thick long fingers stroked slowly over his forehead, stirring things in her body. “Sorry. I’m having a hard time with this too.”

  “With what?”

  He leveled his eyes at her. “You not remembering me. You don’t remember anything yet? At all?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “What you think… I should remember.”

  He leaned forward, elbow on his knees, regarding her for many seconds. “You should remember… how much you mean to me.” He looked down. “And many other things I don’t think you’re ready to hear.”

  She bit her lower lip, agreeing. She couldn’t take hearing him say it for sure. “Maybe… you can write it?”

  He chuckled a little and shook his lowered head. “Write it. Yeah, ok.”

  He wanted to show her, she could feel it. He’d mentioned doing things to help her memory, but there was just no way she could. The idea of him actually touching her induced panic in odd places. She needed to understand why she felt like she did with him. “I’d… like that. For you to write it. Please.”

  He leaned back and leveled an angled look at her until she wanted to hide. “I’ll do it if…”

  Agonizing silence passed as she waited for him to finish. “If…?”

  He lowered only his eyes. “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  He looked right, rubbing his hands on his jeans, making the muscles in his tattooed arms ripple. But there was something about the nervous act that lessened her fears a little.

  “I can only say no,” she encouraged.

  “Yeah. I don’t do good with no, not about this. I just… I just want to sleep with you—not touch you,” he corrected quickly, “just be near you.”

  Alarms exploded all over her mind and body. “I can’t,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, it’s not a no, it’s just I can’t, not yet.”

  “Don’t apologize, I get it. You don’t remember me. It’d be like sleeping with a stranger. I get it.”

  Everything about his tone said he got it and it was very far from okay. Would never be okay. She wished she could help with that but… “We can talk as often as you like.”

  He let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah. I’d like that actually.”

  “It’s the best I can do right now.”

  “I know that,” he said, sounding annoyed. I’m not mad about it, I love talking to you. I just love doing many other things to you.”

  Her breath caught on that panic again.

  He stood suddenly. “Fuck, wow. Look I’m sorry, but I can only take so much of seeing you terrified of me before I need air. I’ll see you later.”

  She watched him hurry out on the crutches and wanted to stop him. She wanted to apologize, but the love to do many other things to you wouldn’t let her speak, it had her locked to what that might mean. And the merry-go-round of conflictions to know and yet never find out had her ready to get off the ride and vomit.


  Sade hobbled his way to the workout room and looked around. He spotted the punching bag, put Abraham’s ugly face on it and beat the fuck out of it for thirty minutes. When the bastard was good and dead, and Sade was covered in his blood, he stopped. It was all a tease for his sadism, like a shadow orgasm that left him moaning for more.

  Write it? Fucking write it? Nothing like a little letter telling her what he’d done. Where would he start? Ah, yes. Drugging her, tying her up and molesting her. Confirm all the good fucking feelings she wasn’t having toward him.

  He collapsed onto the weight bench winded and dripping sweat, his feet and fists bleeding. If she’d just let him touch her… he was sure she’d remember him. Remember the good things.

  He looked up at hearing a choked huff at the door. “Jesus H. Christ.”

  “Don’t,” he warned to a pissed Liberty in the doorway. “I’ll clean the mess.” He wished he’d bled out more than he had.

  “What is up with you?” She strolled to the exercise bike like she dealt with this kind of thing all the time.

  “You know what’s fucking up.”

  “You talked to her?” She hung her towel on the handlebars and began stretching.

  “Oh yeah. She remembered her father’s death while I was in the room. Again. She got to relive him dying, and I got to not be able to do a fucking thing because she’s scared to death of me. And then? She asks me what we’ve done together. And so when I tell her I can’t say what, she tells me to write it!”

  She pressed buttons on the panel before her. “That’s actually a good idea.”

  “It’s not a good idea, not when everything I’d write would only confirm that I’m the monster her body remembers me to be. Did you see how she acts around me?” he yelled. “And now I’m supposed to just help her make that connection with a dot to dot?” He held a hand out before him, “See… I always knew one day she’d wake up and realize that who she thought she loved was just a dirty spawn of the devil. Took her getting slammed into a fucking wall before the sense got knocked into her, but there you have it. Thank you Karma. I can always count on that cold cunt to end me over and over, only she doesn’t ever end shit, she makes it linger and last like a fine wine of sadomasochism. And fuck me, that turns out to be my favorite fucking concoction. Even now I’m turned on by her fear, is that sick? And I’m supposed to write and convince her I’m not the monster
that I am?”

  “Whooooa,” she squealed as she peddled up some invisible mountain. “Listen,” she said. “Granted she is very suspicious of you, but her wires are all crossed right now. You have to give her time.”

  “Time for what? What did you not just hear? I am the monster she’s afraid of.”

  “Sade, you were that before this and she loved you then.”

  “She was confused. And now she’s thinking clearly. That’s what I think.”

  “Well…” she huffed, peddling faster, “…I know women love a good erotic book, so, the odds of you… waking her body up is in your favor with the writing thing. Maybe you can just… tell the pretty stuff and once her body wakes up then… she’ll let you show her the rest of the story?”

  He remembered her wanting to read those silly romance books to him. What other options did he have? Tying her up and making her remember?

  Shit, his dick got so hard at that idea. He was not well. He was so not well.

  Sade left Liberty and promised to go straight to his room and doctor his feet. That evening, he sat in his bed with a pen and a hundred papers crumpled on the floor next to him. The fuck to write? The only thing he had lots of practice with was drawing tattoos, invoices, and police reports. Fuck it, he’d just tell it. No frills, just exact events—minus the part where he drugged her and tied her up that first time. He’d probably tell about the second time because by then, she’d officially earned it. What’d he have to lose? Certainly not her trust.

  Before he realized it, Sade was turning page after page as the words poured out of him. He was reliving them and it awakened a ravenous hunger to not stop, never stop. It was the closest thing he’d come to having her, in what felt like forever. Right there on paper, he devoured her until he was burning up. He gasped and clenched his eyes shut when he got to the part in their story where she sucked him. Right after he’d eaten her delicious fucking pussy for the first time.

  The pen trembled in his hand as he fought the need taking over him. He gave in to the urge to open his legs. Drawing his knees back, he grabbed the base of his cock tight and pressed his other hand hard against his balls. He held on to that image in his mind—her lips wrapped tight around his cock as it slid so very slowly deep into her pretty mouth. A harsh hiss made its way between his gritted teeth as he rolled his hips hard. He grunted as he relived it. Pushing the head of his cock against her throat. “Mercy,” he grit, seeing her gaze locked hard onto his, seeing that fucking adoration in her eyes that he couldn’t fathom but had to have. Suck me. Suck me deep, baby.


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