by Bella J
Easing down the side of my arm, his fingers left a trace of tingling flesh in their wake, continuing all the way until it disappeared beneath the water. I closed my eyes, not even trying to fight the feeling. I was desperate for it to carry me away from here, to be raptured from reality. The soft touch of his fingers against my skin was indescribable, and just like I knew it would, it slowly forced all the bad feelings that were poisoning me to the farthest corner of my soul, too weak to fight the desire he so expertly woke inside me.
It started out as a sliver of relief, but as he moved his touch to my inner thigh, the relief grew stronger, powerful, and it gently lured me away from the ugliness of this world.
I sucked in a breath, unable to control the way my body responded to his touch. It was impossible, exactly like the first time he seduced me.
“Granite—”
He wrapped his other arm around my shoulder, pushing his cheek hard against mine, finally slipping his hand between my legs.
I gasped and moaned, and he squeezed my shoulder. Gently, he teased a fingertip along my sensitive folds, exploring while earning soft whimpers from my lips. Greedy and overcome with desire, I opened my legs, giving him access—permission to take me away. Carry me far from here.
In the midst of all the ugly, his touch felt exquisite, my body no longer consumed by anguish, but rather a raw need to find pleasure. Even if just for a few moments.
He slipped a finger inside me, and I cried out at the same time he wrapped a hand around my neck, craning my head back, kissing me hard like both our lives depended on it. It was a desperate, firm, and unyielding kiss that took my breath away. The feel of his velvet tongue against mine earned a moan from deep within my chest, and the taste that was uniquely Granite disarmed me completely. The rhythm of his finger easing in and out of me was exquisite, yet torture at the same time, and I wanted more. I didn’t want it to ever end.
Peeling his lips from mine, I felt the top of his nose travel below my ear, inhaling like he was trying to get high on my scent. My body was instantly consumed with the need to be burned alive. I wanted his touch to incinerate me and leave nothing but ashes behind.
The pad of his thumb found that little sensitive bud and played it to the sweet rhythm of the euphoria I craved so much. Fingers dug into the flesh beneath my jaw, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving my hips. Searching. Wanting. Needing more. I was desperately searching for the edge, hopelessly in need of that last push to finally fall.
Warm lips kissed the hollow between my shoulder and neck. “I’m sorry, ballerina girl,” he whispered against my skin, and that was all I needed.
I fell—catapulted over the edge. His finger slipped in and out of me, carrying me through the rush of pleasure that swept through my body like an electric current. It was powerful, deep, and for those few blissful moments, I was free, no longer feeling anything but the ecstasy of release.
My body shuddered, and I pressed my cheek tightly against him, nestling into his shoulder.
As the last tremors of pleasure rippled through me, he eased his finger out of me before weaving both hands through my hair at the back of my head. My breaths came out rapidly, and I loved being in his embrace.
I hated that I loved it.
He pressed a hard and desperate kiss against my temple then dropped his lips to my ear.
“She’s alive.”
I froze. “What?”
He tightened his hold at the back of my head, gripping my hair tight. “Neon. She’s alive.”
Chapter Eight
Alyx
Naked and cold, I stood in the corner of the bathroom glaring at Granite, his big frame occupying the doorway. “Could you…um…could you say that again?”
Granite tossed me a towel. “Get dressed. Then we talk.”
“Is Neon alive?” I caught the towel, but I didn’t have it in me to care that I was naked.
“First clothes. Then talk.”
I locked my jaw, my chest rising and falling as anger and confusion poisoned every breath. “Did I hear you correctly, Granite? Is Neon alive?”
“Get—”
“Goddammit, Granite,” I snapped. “Just tell me!”
Granite roughed his hand through his hair before stretching his arms, holding his hands against the doorframe, head downcast. “Yes, Alyx. Neon is alive.”
“Dear God.” My legs shook, and I grabbed the side of the tub, steadying myself as I sat on the edge. “Neon is alive? How…how is that possible?”
Granite brushed his fingers across his forehead then finally managed to look me in the eye. “Neon isn’t dead, Alyx.” He visibly took a deep breath. “I lied.”
“What?”
Two simple words, yet I couldn’t wrap my head around it. “You lied?”
He placed his hands on his side, the leather of his cut creaking with the movement. “Yeah. I lied.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why? Why would you—”
“I had my reasons.”
“Like what?”
Granite stared at me from underneath his lashes, watching me like he was waiting for me to break at any moment. “What they did to her, Alyx, it was—”
“It couldn’t have been worse than killing her.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Believe me. I think she’d rather be dead.”
A sudden fit of rage swept through me, and I launched myself at him, fists balled and ready. My fists slammed against his chest, and I kept screaming. Cursing and beating him, I wanted to hurt him like he had hurt me.
“You son of a bitch! You lied to me!”
He didn’t even try to fight me. He just stood there, allowing me to punch him, taking every hit and facing my anger.
I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop from wanting to hurt him. All I saw was him, her, the lie. It was slamming against my ribcage, clawing at my insides, shredding me into nothing but slivers of rage.
“You lied!”
“I had to.”
“You fucking lied!”
“Alyx, stop.” He took a step forward and grabbed my arms, keeping me from hitting him again.
“Why?” I yelled, not realizing I was crying until I tasted the salt on my lips. “Why did you lie?”
“I did what I needed to do.”
“Bullshit!”
Granite let go of my arms, and I managed to slap him across the face, his head jerking to the side. I gasped and swallowed hard after I realized what I had done.
Granite pulled his lips in a thin line, jaw clenched. “I guess I deserved that.” A glimmer of anger flashed across his green irises, and a chill ran up my spine. “But that is the last time you ever hit me. Do you understand me?”
“You lied to me, you mo—”
“Do you. Understand me?”
I refused to respond to his demand of obedience. Who the fuck did he think he was, telling me what I could and could not do after he just dropped the biggest fucking bomb on me? “I can’t believe you lied to me.”
“I did. But I’m telling you the truth now.”
“After you let me grieve for fuck knows how long.”
Granite moved to the other side of the bathroom, leaning against the wall.
I was frozen on the spot, unable to move. “She’s really alive?”
“Yes, Alyx.” He leaned his head back, staring at the roof. “Neon is alive.”
“Oh, my God.” I wiped at the tears with the back of my hand. “I can’t believe it. How? Where?” I shook my head. “When did you find her?”
Granite shifted against the wall and rubbed the back of his neck. “We found her that same day.”
“You what?”
He stared at me with that goddamn pity in his eyes, like I was some stupid girl who got fooled so easily.
My skin went ice cold, my palms damp. “You knew all along.” It wasn’t a question. “When you told me she was dead, you knew.”
He remained silent, standing against the wall and watching me like I was about to bre
ak apart.
I sat back down on the edge of the tub. “Why in God’s name would you lie to me about this?”
He shrugged, eyes never leaving mine. “I knew you’d want to see her if you knew she was alive, and I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Why not?”
“Jesus, Alyx. Those Pythons really did a number on her. You couldn’t even handle a simple goddamn picture of her. How the fuck would you have handled seeing her after we found her beaten up and left for dead, huh? We didn’t even think she’d fucking make it.”
I stood and finally gathered the strength to wrap a towel around me. “And you thought letting me think she was dead would make me feel, what? Better?” I narrowed my eyes at him in disbelief. “You really thought you were doing me a fucking favor by letting me think she’s dead?”
“Believe me. I did.”
“Fuck you.” The words darted out of my mouth without me even thinking it. “Fuck you, Granite.”
He snickered, a sarcastic edge to the sound. “Guess I deserved that too.”
I gritted my teeth. “You deserve so much more than that.”
“Don’t I know it.” He pushed himself off the wall and stomped out to the bedroom.
I followed him. “I want to see her.”
“See,” he spun around, “this is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
“What? Because I want to see her?”
“Yes,” he snapped, wild eyes glaring at me. “Trust me when I say you can’t handle it, Alyx.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t handle. Not after everything you’ve put me through.” The accusation was loud and clear, the blame dripping from my words. Yes, I blamed him. I blamed him for everything—especially now.
“I want to see her, Granite.”
“No.” His jaw ticked, his piercing stare slicing right through me.
“Granite—”
“I said no.”
“And you also said Neon was dead. As of right now, not a single word you say means anything to me. Nothing.” I spat out the words like burning coals, then brushed past him, but he grabbed my elbow.
“Stop, Alyx. We need to talk about this.”
“Oh, now you want to talk.” I jerked my arm free. “Well, now I don’t want to talk to you. I want to see Neon.”
He shook his head, but his denying me this only fueled my defiance. “You owe me that. After everything you’ve put me through, you fucking owe me at least this.”
His gaze cut to mine, and in that moment I saw the blame, the remorse…the pain. It was right there, all of it. I could practically feel it, the air around us laden with it—his guilt. But my anger didn’t allow me to give a damn.
He sighed. “Get dressed, Alyx.”
“Will you let me see her?”
He leaned his head back, rolling his shoulders. “Get dressed, and I’ll take you to her.”
If I wasn’t so angry, I would have thanked him. But I hated him too much to give him even a tiny bit of gratitude.
Relieved, I rushed over to the pile of clothes that had been placed on the chair in the corner. It had been there ever since I woke up in this room the first time. I grabbed the first shirt and pants I could find and pulled them on. Granite watched me; I felt it. But I didn’t care. I also didn’t care that his gaze moved across every contour of my body, all the way down, and back up again.
Pulling my wet hair out from underneath the shirt, I looked at him. “Let’s go. Which hospital is she in?”
Granite’s expression remained stone. “She’s not in a hospital.”
“What? Then where is she?”
“Come on.” He opened the door and stood to the side, allowing me to walk out first.
I shot him a cautious look. “Granite?”
He nodded toward the door. “Go on.”
I kept my eyes on him as I took slow, hesitant steps. My mind was one huge vortex of confusion, and it scared me since I couldn’t make sense of what the fuck was happening.
I walked out, and Granite followed. “Walk straight down the hall, then to your right.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Where are we going?”
“Just walk, ballerina girl.”
The hall was dimly lit, and I glanced up at the roof, noticing all the air vents. Slowly, I took one step at a time, glancing from the roof to the walls to the floor. Every now and then I glanced over my shoulder at Granite, making sure he was still there. My pulse raced, my skin clammy. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be on death row, walking straight to my own demise.
Hesitantly, I turned to the right at the end of the hall and saw Onyx standing in front of a door. The look on his face was unnerving—something between worry and pity as he watched me walk closer.
“Onyx?” My voice was barely audible.
He smiled, but it failed at reassuring me. “It’s okay, Alyx.”
“What is going on?” I stopped in front of him. “You knew?”
He nodded, a half-smile on his face. “I did.”
I glanced back at Granite. “Everyone knew?”
Granite stared at me without fucking blinking.
Onyx placed his hands on my shoulders. “I need you to forget everything you think you know.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m sure you have a picture inside your head of what you’re about to see.” The expression on his face fell, his eyes saddened. “Forget that picture.”
“Onyx, what are you trying to say?” My heart started to thump hard against my chest, fear slowly smothering my anger.
“What I’m saying is that whatever you think you’re about to see, it’s far worse.”
“Oh, God.” I brought my palm to my mouth, and I clenched my jaw so I wouldn’t start crying again. “She’s here?”
He nodded. “She’s here.”
I turned to Granite. “Why isn’t she in the hospital?”
“We couldn’t chance it. Being in a hospital would make her an easy target. So we brought her here—both of you.”
“Where is here?”
Granite wiped at his nose, and I could see he was getting agitated, frustrated. “Do you want to see her or not?” The sharp edge in his words sliced through my chest, but I ignored it and looked back at Onyx.
“What did they do to her?”
He shook his head. “No. No details. Come on.” He took my hand then opened the door.
The slow creak of the hinges resonated around us, my heart beating wildly. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to go in. Not knowing what waited for me inside that room was eating away my courage little by little. The grim looks on Onyx’s and Granite’s faces didn’t help either. I was scared.
And in that moment, I sought a little encouragement, and without thinking, I turned to look at Granite, searching for my strength in his face, his eyes. And when our gazes locked, I could see he didn’t want me to go in there either. He didn’t want me to do this. Then why was he allowing it?
Onyx tugged at my hand, urging me to walk, so I turned away from Granite, my eyes downcast as I took one step in front of the other. My feet stopped at the entrance, and I hesitated for a second.
Whatever you think you’re about to see, it’s far worse.
A shudder moved from my shoulders down my spine. But I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in a bid to prepare me for what I was about to see.
As I stepped into the room and opened my eyes, I saw Ink standing beside a bed with the frame of someone tucked underneath the sheets, back turned toward me.
A man I didn’t recognize stood to the side, wearing a stethoscope around his neck, busy arranging medical equipment on a tray. He looked up at me, his expression as grim as the rest.
The sharp smell of surgical antiseptic assaulted my senses, and the familiar sound of a beeping heart monitor resounded in the room. It was every bit like a hospital, but it wasn’t.
Ink bent down, whispering something, and the sheets moved. I held my br
eath as I slowly followed Onyx, rounding the bed.
I glanced up at Granite, who was now standing in the door, worried eyes set on me. A part of me wanted him to stand beside me. I wanted him to be the one to hold my hand, to carry me through whatever this was. But he kept his distance while he never took his eyes off me.
Ink stood to the side, making way for me, and when I glanced down, I saw her.
Neon.
“Oh, my God.” It was her. It was really her. It was really, really her.
“Neon?” I moved closer, but dear God, Onyx was right. I couldn’t have pictured the sight in front of me.
I gasped. “Neon?” The part of her face that wasn’t wrapped with bandages was a grotesque blue-black frame of bruises. Round, open sores with what looked like burnt flesh covered her cheek, all the way down her neck. “Jesus. Neon?”
Her one eye opened, swollen and bruised, while the other was covered with bandages. “Hey, Swan Lake.” Her voice was soft, like she was exhausted.
I placed my hand in front of my mouth. “Neon?”
“Yeah. I don’t look exactly myself, do I?”
“Oh, my God.” It was all I could say before I rushed to her side, my hands hovering over her, shaking, wanting to touch her, but not sure where. “It’s really you?”
“Yup.” She moved, then cringed, and the movement of her hand caught my eye. Bandages stained with blood were wrapped around her fingers, and it was obvious one was missing.
“Jesus.” I snapped my gaze to Granite. “What the hell did they do to her?”
He didn’t say a word. All he did was stand there, watching me while I soaked up the horror of the sight in front of me.
Neon’s small frame was covered in white sheets, and I hardly recognized her. A catheter bag hung from the side of the bed, halfway filled with urine. Suddenly, I wanted to search every part of her body to see every wound. I wanted to know exactly what the hell happened to her.
“Neon, what did they do to you?”
She tried to move but groaned, and Ink almost knocked me out of the way to help her. Gently, he removed the sheet as he helped her ease up a bit on her pillow. Her right arm was wrapped in a cast from shoulder to wrist, bent at the elbow.