Bitter Sweet Hell (Hell Night Book 2)

by Alex Grayson

  “Yeah, but it’s worth it right?”

  “Fuck, yes, it is.”

  Her giggle sounds sleepy. Leaning forward, I kiss her temple and snag one of the crinkle things she made. I hold it to her lips and she takes half of it into her mouth.

  “Just so you know,” I stuff the rest in my mouth and talk around it, “you’re not making these for anyone else. I don’t share well with others and these are too good to share.”

  She laughs against my neck and the vibrations I feel from it against my chest send a charge to my heart. In that moment, I realize something.

  This woman has captured my heart and claimed it as her own.

  JW

  EDEN – WOULD YOU MIND grabbing my prescription from the drug store on your way back here?

  Me: You got it.

  I pocket my phone and let myself inside Emo’s house. I come to a stop when nothing but an eerie silence greets me. He’s here, and so is Grace. I saw her car parked outside beside Emo’s black Impala.

  Today is the one day a year that Emo’s at his darkest. Normally it would be Trouble who came to check on him, but he had a couple of patients call in at the last minute with emergencies. We all loved Rella, and we all felt the pain of losing her, but she was Trouble’s sister. Emo feels immense guilt over what he was forced to do to her when we were kids. Because of that, they share a bond. He has better luck calming the raging fire that burns through Emo.

  I know right away where Emo and Grace are. My stomach drops as I make my way to the door that leads to the basement. It’s normally locked up tight, but right now it’s cracked open a few inches. Before I take the first step, I hear it. A whoosh and a sickening slap. I take another couple of steps and hear it again. Another couple of steps down the sound becomes louder. What makes this so much more painful is the lack of cries or grunts of pain.

  When I reach the bottom of the stairs and look to my left, my fucking heart constricts. Emo has always enjoyed a twisted sex life. I don’t think he particularly likes sex. It’s more of an outlet for him when he feels extreme emotions. It’s not pleasurable for him. He doesn’t hurt his partners, or rather, he doesn’t hurt them more than they want to be hurt. He never goes overboard and the person he’s with at the time knows exactly what they are getting when it comes to sex with him. He likes to feel the pain more than he likes giving it.

  Even though Grace is clad in only a men’s black long sleeve dress shirt and Emo is butt ass naked, what I’m witnessing right now has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with a sick sense of punishment. Punishment Emo feels like he deserves.

  He’s bent over a table with his hands braced against the surface, his ass facing my way. His head hangs, his black hair falling in his face. Grace is behind him holding a belt. I flinch when she rears back and brings it down against Emo’s back. His back, already full of old scars, is red and raised with new marks. A few of the new marks have split open, leaving trails of blood to run down his back. It looks like they’ve been at this awhile already.

  She lifts the belt again, and I take a step closer, ready to put an end to what’s happening. The floor squeaks beneath my feet and Grace’s head swivels my way. Her cheeks are soaked with her tears. She looks tortured by what she’s doing. Grace likes a little pain mixed in with her sex as well. That’s why she’s here. She’s one of the very few who can keep up with Emo and his sinister cravings. I know what she’s doing now is something she doesn’t enjoy. She hates hurting Emo to this extent, but she stays because she knows this is what he needs.

  “Enough,” I bark and stalk over to them. I hold out my hand and she immediately places the belt in my palm. Fresh tears fill her eyes, but relief flashes across her face. Emo doesn’t move. He just stays in the same position.

  “More,” Emo grunts hoarsely.

  “No,” I answer firmly.

  His hands fist on the table they lay against.

  “Goddamn it, I need more!” he roars.

  I look at Grace and gesture to the stairs with my chin. “Go upstairs and call Trouble. Tell him he needs to get here. And to bring Eden with him.”

  She nods and looks back at Emo, her eyes full of sadness.

  “I tried, JW. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen.” Her voice cracks.

  “I know.”

  After a moment of silence, she leaves us alone. I pick up Emo’s discarded jeans and throw them at him. “Get dressed.”

  I understand his pain. Had I been put in his situation when we were little, I have no doubt I’d be just as messed up as him. But I can’t sit around and let him torture himself like this. He was a fucking kid. He had no control over what happened.

  He chucks the jeans back down to the floor.

  “You need to finish it, JW,” he says.

  “It’s already finished. You’ve had enough.”

  Hitting the table with his palms, he springs up to his full height and turns to face me. His eyes are black, not only in color, but in rage and pain as well.

  “Finish it, or I’ll find someone to do it for me,” he growls.

  I take his threat seriously. As much as I hate what he’s asking of me, I hate even more the thought of someone else hurting him. He knows I won’t let anyone else do it. It should be one of my brothers or myself. Grace did it because she was the only one here and he demanded it of her.

  “Fuck, Emo.” I smash my teeth together and scrape my fingers through my hair. “You don’t have to do this anymore. You’re back is already torn to shreds.”

  “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. It’s not enough.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I grit out between clenched teeth.

  “I touched her. I’m the reason she’s dead. Now fuckin’ finish it.”

  “Because you had no other choice.” I bellow.

  The muscles in his neck bulge as he glares at me.

  “I’m still the reason she’s dead, whether or not I hurt her willingly.”

  The belt bites into my palm. There’s nothing that my brothers and I can say to ever change his mind. He’s hell bent on destroying himself.

  “How many?” He’s leaving me no fucking choice but to give him what he wants.

  “Five more.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter.

  We stare at each other for several long moments before I give him a reluctant nod. I hate this shit so damn much. I hate that he’s making me do this. I hate knowing the pain he’s going to be in by my hands. I hate the pain he’s already feeling.

  He turns and leans back over the table. The blood that’s dripping down his back reaches his butt and travels down his legs.

  When I swing the belt back, it feels ten times heavier than what it is. I grip the leather strap so tight, my joints protest. Swinging it forward, it hits Emo square on the center of his back. I wince at the sound it makes, and I swear I feel the hit myself. Emo doesn’t move an inch. Not a twitch or even a sharp inhale of breath.

  “Harder,” he demands harshly.

  I grit my teeth as I hit him again with more force. Air whooshes out of my lungs, and I feel like I’ve just run ten miles.

  He looks at me over his shoulder with a pissed expression, his black hair falling in his face giving him an evil appearance. “Stop fuckin’ around, JW, and hit me harder.”

  I scowl at him as I rear back and slam the belt forward again, making sure to hit him in a new spot. This time, he hisses out a breath, and I spot the slight tightening of his back muscles. His head drops forward.

  “Two more.” He grits out, his shoulders stiff. “Make them fuckin’ count.”

  “Goddamn you, Emo,” I snarl, baring my teeth, and land a fourth blow against his lower back. Blood beads at the new laceration, trickling down his spine.

  I’m sweating and breathing heavily. My head feels like it’s going to explode. And my heart, my damn heart is hammering so hard I hear it in my ears.

  I crack the belt down one last time, then immediately drop it to the floor.
My hands go to my hair, and I grip it tight, pulling at the strands.

  “Fuck!” I roar out in rage to the ceiling. If I didn’t love the bastard so much, I’d beat the shit out of him for making me hit him like that.

  Emo sags against the table, the adrenaline coursing through his body finally running out. When his legs collapse and his knees hit the hard concrete floor, I rush over to him. Blood continues to seep from his wounds and there’s a fine sheen of sweat coating his body. I hoist him up by his arm and toss it over my shoulder.

  “You’ve gotta stop doing this to yourself, Emo. It’s slowly killing you,” I tell him as we slowly walk to the stairs.

  “You know I can’t, so stop wasting your breath.” He sounds weak and drained. Of not only energy, but life.

  “You wanna die?” I force the words out between a tight jaw. “Is that it?”

  He stops when we get to the bottom of the stairs and lifts his head. His face is pale, except for the dark circles around his sunken eyes. He’s also lost a bit of weight.

  “Maybe I do,” he answers in a low voice devoid of emotion. “Maybe I’m just tired of fighting the black nothingness that’s always there, waiting for the right time to suck me under. Maybe I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

  I tighten my arm that’s around his waist and don’t give a flying fuck when he winces. My eyes turn hard, and I’ve got no doubt they’re flashing fire when I glare at him. I bend down until my nose almost touches his. He needs to hear this and he needs to hear it well.

  “And maybe you should think about someone else besides yourself. How in the hell do you think I, Trouble, and Judge would feel if you weren’t around anymore? Have you thought of that? Have you thought of what it would do to us? Do you have any fuckin’ clue how much that would hurt us? We’re brothers, Emo, the four of us. If one of us dies, it wouldn’t be like losing an arm or leg, we’d lose a part of our Goddamn hearts.”

  He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with emotionless eyes and gives me a silent nod. Emo’s talked about letting the blackness take him a few times before—usually when he’s going through a particularly rough time—and each time it does, it pisses my brothers and me off. I don’t know if he would actually go through with it, but even the thought sends my heart rate into overdrive.

  We walk slowly up the steps and into the living room. Grace jumps up from the couch, a pair of jogging pants in one hand and a wet rag in the other. She doesn’t look much better than she did when I found her in the basement. I take the pants from her and give them to Emo. After he puts them on, I help him lay down on his stomach.

  “Trouble should be here any minute,” Grace says quietly, kneeling down beside the couch. Carefully, she starts to clean his back. She doesn’t touch the abrasions, only cleaning the trails of blood they’ve caused.

  A few minutes later, Trouble walks through the front door with Eden behind him. His eyes meet mine and I give him a clipped nod, silently letting him know he’s okay. For now, at least.

  He walks straight over to the couch and drops his medical bag on the floor. Grace moves out of his way. The pulse in his temple throbs and pain flashes across his face when he sees the damage on Emo’s back. Wordlessly, he begins pulling items from his bag. He knows I’ve already laid into Emo and him adding to it won’t do a damn bit of good.

  Eden’s voice trembles when she asks, “What happened to him?”

  I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her to my side. “He’s going through some shit. Today hasn’t been a good day for him.”

  “It looks like… he was beaten.”

  I close my eyes and pull in a deep breath before replying. I keep my voice low. “When we were kids, he was forced to….” I try to find the right words. “touch Rella. He blames himself, even though he had no choice but to do what his father made him do. He punishes himself for it.”

  She sucks in a ragged breath, and I drag her closer to me.

  “Poor, Emo,” she whispers.

  We both watch as Trouble cleans Emo’s wounds then lathers an ointment on them. Grace sits on the love seat, an unopened bottle of whiskey in her hand. As soon as Trouble is done, he helps Emo sit up and Grace walks over with the whiskey. Before she can hand it off to Emo, Trouble snatches it up, pops the lid off and guzzles several swallows. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and passes it to Emo, who tips it to his mouth.

  Trouble grabs Emo by the back of the neck and pulls him toward him until their foreheads are touching. Emo closes his eyes as Trouble whispers something to him too low for us to hear. His eyes squeeze shut tightly and he nods at whatever Trouble says. I take a good look at Trouble. He looks like shit. Not as bad as Emo, because he manages to hide his grief better, but I know he’s in incredible pain as well.

  The two break apart and Trouble gets to his feet.

  “I’m gonna stay here for a while. There’s no reason for you two to stay.”

  I nod. “Where’s Remi and Elijah? You need me to pick them up?”

  “They’re with Judge at Mae’s house. They knew I’d be here a while, so he’s going to stay with them until I get back.”

  Reaching out, I grip his shoulder. “You okay?”

  Pain etches his face, but he answers with a drop of his chin.

  “Call me if you need anything.” I turn to Emo. “You good?”

  “Yes,” he grunts with the bottle at his lips. I’m just turning away to lead Eden to the door when Emo’s words stop me. “Thank you.”

  There’s no fucking way I’m going to say you’re welcome for what he forced me to do to him, but I still acknowledge his thanks with a nod. I don’t blame Emo for what he puts himself through. Hell, I’d feel just as guilty had I been in his childhood shoes, but it still hurts knowing he feels he deserves to inflict pain upon himself.

  I tip my head to Grace and she returns it with her own solemn nod. Eden and I are silent as we make our way to my truck. Today has been emotionally draining, and all I want to do is go home, crawl into bed, and get lost in Eden’s arms. After a quick stop, that’s exactly what I plan to do.

  “Where are we going?” she asks when I point the truck in the opposite directions to my house.

  “Prescription, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  I run into the pharmacy, grab her pills, and a few minutes later, we’re walking into the house. I go straight to the kitchen and grab out two bottles of beer from the fridge. Eden is fiddling with her birth control pack, slipping the old one out of the small plastic case to put in the refill. I set her beer on the counter in front of her when she sucks in a startled breath and her hands freeze.

  “What’s wrong,” I inquire

  I look down at what she’s looking at and my blood runs cold. There’s a tiny micro-chip lying on the counter. I reach for it and her eyes shoot up to me.

  “Do you think….” She pauses for a moment and clears her throat. “Could this really be the chip Diego’s been talking about? It was behind my birth control pack.”

  I scowl down at the small piece of plastic in my hand like it’s ticking time bomb I can’t defuse. “I don’t know.”

  “I swear I don’t know how it got there.”

  I snap my head up at her wobbly voice. “I know you don’t, Eden. Someone must have slipped it in there somehow.”

  Relief has her shoulders sagging. “I don’t see when they could have. I always—” She stops abruptly, a frown appearing between her eyebrows. Her shocked gaze jumps to mine. “I left my purse downstairs that last night I was with Diego. That has to be when they put it in my birth control pack. But why?”

  “It’s obvious whatever’s on here is damning. Maybe they wanted you to use it against him.” I grab Eden’s hand and pull her behind me into the living room where my laptop is. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  EDEN

  JW AND I WALK INTO THE HILL, the dim light momentarily blinding us. Instead of stopping and looking around for who we’re meeting, JW keeps
going and turns to the left. Apparently, it’s a usual meeting spot because he leads us straight to a big table that’s already full with people. There’s Trouble holding Elijah with Remi beside him, her brother, Kian, Judge, Jamie, Gillian, and a lady named Susan I met yesterday while I was with Trouble and Remi when JW went to go check on Emo. I’m surprised to see Emo sitting at the end of the table with Grace to his left. From what I saw of his mangled back yesterday, he has to be in a lot of pain. After what JW told me, something tells me he likes the pain. The sight of the damage done to his back broke my heart. I can’t imagine living with such heartache all the time.

  We’re all here because Remi wanted us together on her brother’s last night in Malus.

  I take a seat beside Jamie and JW sits next to me, putting him at the end of the table. Judge is to his left.

  I reach over and grab Jamie’s hand. “How are you holding up?” I ask quietly.

  It’s been a week since Jenny died, but the pain is as fresh as if it happened just moments ago.

  She gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hand in return. “I’m getting there. It’ll just take a while. I loved Jenny like she was a sister.”

  My heart pinches. “I’m so so sorry.”

  She’s shaking her head before I get the words out. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Eden.”

  No matter how many people have told me that over the past week, I still feel responsible.

  I look around the table. “Where’s Layla? Isn’t she supposed to be here too?”

  “She wanted to come, but Trouble ordered her on bedrest. She has the flu.”

  “Oh, no. That’s horrible.”

  “She’ll be better in a few days. He gave her some medicine to help with her symptoms.”

  We talk for a few more minutes. Danaka, our waitress, comes to take JW’s and my order since we were the last ones to arrive and everyone else has already given theirs. After she walks away, JW’s quiet words capture my attention.

  “I’ve made a copy of it, and I’m sure Diego isn’t stupid enough to not think I did, but I plan to call his father tonight to pass along a message.” He stops and flicks his eyes to Kian down at the other end of the table to make sure he can’t hear him. Kian doesn’t know about Diego or what JW and his brothers have planned for him. As he’s in the military and essentially government property, it’s best it stays that way. “If he doesn’t back the fuck off, he’ll not only have me after his ass, but the state police as well.”