by Bella J
He pushed deeper into me, his hips flexing, his jaw clenched, trying to restrain himself from losing control. The moment he thrust all the way inside me, I closed my eyes for a single moment, the connection severed. My mind snatched me away, pulling me back—so far back, to the white room. To the pain. The humiliation. The godawful grunts of savages, my body torn to shreds.
There was so much blood, the crimson settling into the grout of the tiles beneath me.
The blood, it’s everywhere. Mine. It’s my blood. My tears.
Laughs. Animalistic sounds. Demons screaming. My body filled to the brim, torn from the inside with filthy cocks and evil intentions.
I can hear the screams. The screams of terror. They’re mine. My screams ripping through vertebrae, breaking my spine in half.
I can’t move. The iron hooks pierced through my back makes it impossible to move.
It burns, and I’ll soon be nothing but ash.
More laughter. More lustful grunts and malignant moans. It’s infecting. Killing me.
Let me die.
Let me die.
Let me die.
God, please.
“Neon.”
It’s too much pain. Too much blood. Their vile seed clings to my thighs. I can feel it leaking out of me, mixing with my blood and tears on the tiles.
Hands are everywhere, touching, prodding, penetrating. It hurts. Everything hurts.
“Neon, baby.”
His face is there, right in front of me. His disgusting tongue, a tongue I’m feeling in places he has no right corrupting.
My beautiful pixie girl. Scream.
Scream.
Scream.
Please, stop.
“Neon. Look at me. Look at me!”
I can’t. I can’t open my eyes. He’s pulling me back, his angry fingers choking me. Smothering me. Killing me. Making me bleed.
He’s laughing. Cackling like a crazed beast while my blood stains his hands.
“Neon. Listen to me.”
More cackling. More maniacal shrieks of pleasure.
“Neon. It’s me, Ink. You need to listen to my voice. You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.”
With every ounce of strength in me, I grabbed hold of the sound of his voice, refusing to let Slither’s laughs obliterate Ink’s pleas.
I opened my eyes, my chest rapidly rising and falling. I didn’t know if it was sweat or tears dripping down the sides of my face, my heart beating like a drum.
“Ink.” My lips quivered. “I’m scared.”
“It’s okay. Touch me.” He grabbed my face and cupped my cheeks, wiping at the tears with his thumbs. “Touch my back.”
With shaky hands and trembling fingers, I moved my arms from his neck to his back.
“You feel my scars? We’re the same, remember?” My fingers touched the welted skin, the rough patches and grooves of healed burns. “We’re the same, you and I. Our scars make us the same.”
I whimpered as more tears leaked from my soul. He kissed me again, this time harder, as if it was a desperate act to pull me back to him. To tear me away from the clutches of haunting memories that lurked in the corners of my mind, refusing to go away.
“I love you, Neon,” he whispered against my lips. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts to breathe when I’m not with you.”
More sobs erupted as his words tore through my thawed heart. And while still inside me, he started to move again. Rocking back and forth, slowly easing in and out.
“I’ve always loved you, since the first time I saw you. I’ve always been yours.”
My heart raced, and I flattened my palms on his back, allowing his scars to anchor me, to stop me from drifting away again. With every gentle thrust, Ink managed to reignite the fire, the flames, the undeniable connection between us—between our scars.
His rhythm picked up, his cock slipping into me, erasing every trace of the men who violated me from the inside out. With every kiss, every touch, and every inch he claimed, he healed the parts of me they destroyed.
“Let me keep your broken parts together, Neon.”
“Ink…”
Higher and higher, my body climbed, and I could feel the edge coming closer. With fingertips still tracing the rough ridges of his scars, I was finally able to grab hold of the connection between us, something to keep me from being carried away into nothingness. Something I refused to ever let go of again.
“Hold on to me.”
My back arched, feeling the familiar twinge of pleasure inside my core. From a flicker to flame, my desire flared, until finally…I fell.
I fell fast, hard, and in the arms of a man who managed to save my soul from a hell I never would have been able to conquer on my own. Pleasure consumed me, and it spread to every bone in my body until it snapped like a tight rubber band, forcing a climax to ripple through me one intense wave at a time.
“Jesus,” Ink muttered between heavy breaths, nestling his face in the crook of my neck. His warm breaths coated my skin as the deep, husky groans of pure pleasure rolled from his lips.
The muscles of his back worked and tensed as he thrust into me, steadying himself on his arms. The warm, smooth skin of his stomach, his hips, every curve of his hard body felt exquisite against mine. This was the most powerful moment I had ever experienced. It was stronger than the past, taming the memories and smothering the pain.
I closed my eyes when I felt his cock twitch. The groans of pleasure that slipped from his lips lapped against the skin of my neck as he came. There was nothing wicked about his grunts of ecstasy, nothing malicious about him finding his release inside me. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t burn. It felt good. It felt right. And when I opened my eyes again, I realized it was gone. The voices were gone. My demons silenced as my body soared.
It was because of him—the man who rescued and slayed me at the same. Damn. Time.
Chapter Sixteen
Ink
There were no words. I wouldn’t have been able to describe it even if I tried. Years of dreaming, wondering what it would feel like to be with her didn’t come close to the real thing. This woman, this angel, she was everything. She was goddamn everything and more.
Her every breath, every kiss, every touch, every movement were my new addiction, one I’d overdose on every fucking chance I got. And her strength? Jesus, her strength. After what she’d been through, I was sure she would never let a man close to her body again. But she did, and the honor was all mine.
For a moment, I lost her—a few seconds when the memories tore her from my grasp. But I refused to let go, pulling her back to me. Now that I had her, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d let her go or allow anyone to take her from me.
Kissing her slowly, savoring her taste, I tried my best to pour every emotion I didn’t have words for into that moment.
Her tears had dried up, her rapid heartbeat had slowed, and her cheeks were a vibrant pink.
“You’re beautiful.”
She smiled. “You make me beautiful.”
Like a punch to the gut, her words slammed against my chest. A fucking arrow right through my heart.
I tucked a few strands of her violet hair behind her ear. “I’ll take that compliment.”
Pulling my cock out of her, I winced, thinking I was about ready to plunge back into her and maybe set up a tent and just fucking stay there forever.
“I’ll be right back.” I got up and didn’t even bother to cover myself. Halfway to the bathroom, I heard her snicker. “What?”
“Are you telling me that your entire body is covered in tats…except your ass?”
I glanced to the side, trying to check out my butt when I shot her a cocky grin. “Woman, some things are just perfect in their natural state. You don’t fuck with perfection.”
She rolled her pretty whiskey eyes. “I see your ego is still intact.”
“Of course.”
I grabbed a towel and ran some hot water on it before walking back to bed.
Neon lifted a brow and crinkled her nose. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of you. Now, lie on your side.”
It was hard not to notice the uncertainty in her eyes, the way she hesitantly turned on her left side. “You know I can clean myself? This ain’t Fifty Shades.”
“I know.” I slipped the wet towel between her legs, gently cleaning her. “But you’re mine now, and I take care of what’s mine.”
“Did you do this for the others?” Her voice was soft—too soft—burdened with insecurities.
“No. Never.” And it was the God’s honest truth. I wasn’t proud of my past, proud of my manwhore shenanigans, bedding women like new, clean sheets every second day. Hell, I wasn’t even the love ’em and leave ’em type because I sure as hell didn’t love them. But her—Neon, she was the one. She was the one woman who had the power to bring me to my fucking knees with a single bat of her pretty eyelashes.
I tossed the towel to the floor and got in behind her, pulling the sheets over our naked bodies. “You don’t get it, do you? How I feel about you?”
I laced my arm around her waist, pulling her close, her naked body fitting perfectly against mine. “I love you, Neon. Nothing can change that. Even if this is something you can never do again, I’d still love you.”
She snorted. “Really?”
“Sure. But please tell me we’ll do it again.”
This time, she laughed, and the sound was like a goddamn melody to my ears.
Nestling her head into the pillow, she weaved her fingers through mine, pulling my arm tighter around her. We were spooning. Neon and I were actually fucking spooning. I’d never spooned before, but by God, did it feel fucking awesome.
Placing a kiss on her neck, I leaned my head down on the pillow, settling in behind her.
“Ink.”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m, you know…I think I might be in—”
My heart stopped just for a second, waiting for her to say those three words—three fucking words that would change my life forever.
She stilled, frozen against me. “I think I might be in…a place where I like having you around.”
My heart deflated inside my chest. It wasn’t the words I wanted to hear. But for now, I’d be thankful for any way she’d welcome me in her life.
Inhaling the strawberry scent of her hair, I smiled. “I think I kinda like hearing you say that.”
I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was smiling. I could feel it. The connection we had was off the fucking charts—especially after what we just shared.
We just lay there basking in each other’s presence, not saying a word. It felt right, her being in my arms, her body tightly pressed against mine. This was the only place I ever wanted to be, at her side and holding her for dear life.
Her breathing slowed, a steady rhythm as she fell asleep so fucking peacefully. It had been days since she got a good night’s sleep, and a part of me wondered if it was because I hadn’t been here, leaving her alone at night so I could fuck up the man who deserved to die a thousand deaths, and I wanted to be the one who executed him over and over and fucking over again. But after witnessing just a sliver of the fear Neon was living with because of him, not even able to make love to a man without being reminded of what he did to her, it made me think Manic might be right. Maybe Neon needed to be thrown in the deep end, forced to deal with her demons. The only way to get rid of them was to conquer them, and I had the devil right where he needed to be for Neon to take back the control he had stolen from her.
Neon was a strong woman, and she had managed to pick herself up after everything, moving on with her life. But a part of her was still in that room, dying slowly. Maybe seeing justice done was exactly what she needed to finally rise from the ashes and be even stronger than she was before. And the thing she needed most in order to win this war was right in the palm of my hand…I just had to give it to her.
Give him to her.
Chapter Seventeen
Ink
I sat on the side of the bed, rubbing my palms together. I was nervous as fuck. What I was about to do had the potential to be best thing I could ever do or be the biggest fucking mistake of my life. But I had to tell her and give her the chance to make it right. She deserved to know, and she deserved to be the one to decide his fate.
The bathroom door opened, and I stood and turned her way. As always, she looked hot as fuck dressed in her usual style of black denim jeans and a shirt that read ‘Two words. One finger.’
I shot her a lopsided grin. “Love the shirt.”
“Thanks. I’m wearing it in case people who don’t know me decide to approach me.”
“I’m pretty sure that shirt sums you up perfectly. Your back okay?”
“It’s a little tender, but nothing I can’t handle.”
After taking off the protective wrapping earlier, I had to gawk at Red’s handiwork. That woman had an insane amount of talent, and judging by what she did so far, this tattoo would be fucking epic once it was completed.
“Listen,” I placed my palm at the back of my neck, “last night, you said you trusted me, and now I need to know exactly how much you trust me.”
She frowned while putting on a pair of silver hoop earrings. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I asked. How much do you trust me, Neon?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why? What’s going on?” Worry lines formed grooves on her forehead.
I walked closer to her, like I was readying to catch her just in case she decided to run from me. “I have to show you something, but first I need to know you trust me completely. That you trust in how I feel about you.”
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.”
“No, don’t freak out.” I took both her hands, and once again I was aware of her one missing finger, a pair of shears coming to mind. “What happened between us last night was a fucking game-changer for me, Neon. It changed everything.”
“I still don’t understand. What are you trying to say?”
“How much do you trust me?”
“Ink, I—”
“How much, Neon?”
Her eyes studied mine, scrutinizing me with a slight frown. “I trust you with my life.”
And like holy water, relief flowed through my body, calming the nerves that weighed heavily in my gut.
“Okay.” I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her tight, placing kisses against her hair. “I need you to hold on to that, okay? Hold on to that trust.”
“Ink, you’re really freaking me the fuck out.”
Letting go of her, I grabbed my cut and keys. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
I licked my lips and met her gaze. “We’re going to make things right.”
NEON
I was never the fender-fluff type of girl. Riding on the back of a motorcycle as some decorative pussy to blow smoke up a muscled bad-boy biker’s ass was not my idea of a joyride. Not one of these assholes could say my butt touched the leather of their hogs’ seats. I never joined them on runs or Sunday afternoon cruises, which were more about flashing expensive pieces of metal and powerful engines than it was about actually having fun and enjoying the ride.
But I did not hesitate to get on Ink’s hog the second he held his hand out to me. Having my arms wrapped around him, holding tight, it felt like the entire world was flashing by, leaving us behind.
It felt good riding with Ink, but there was a sense of foreboding that followed us through the streets. A feeling of caution that clung to us around every curve, past every traffic light. I couldn’t shake it, especially since it radiated off him while I held him close.
Ink pulled off the road, parking his bike before switching off the ignition. I didn’t recognize the street or the old, tumbledown building across from us. The sun was high, the summer heat bearing down on us, but for some reason, it seemed like the sun didn’t touch this street—a harbinger of the bad fe
eling already gnawing at my spine.
“What are we doing here?” I got off the hog, and Ink followed.
“You’ll see.”
“Seriously,” I turned to face him, clutching my arms in front of my chest, “what’s going on?”
He roughed his hand through his hair, dragging his gaze around us. “If I told you there was a way for you to take back what that fucker took from you, would you do it?”
“What do you mean?”
He stepped closer, shoulders squared. “Would you do it?”
Warning prickled the back of my neck, but I couldn’t lie, not when I knew if there was a chance to change things for me, I would take it.
“Yes.” My answer was soft but didn’t lack conviction.
He held his hand out to me, not saying a word, a gesture for me to trust him and go where he wanted to take me. One would think someone like me would find it difficult to follow someone blindly, but it was no lie when I said I trusted him. Right now, he was the only one I trusted in this entire fucking world—the one man who used to annoy the crap out of me. Irony, you motherfucker.
Placing my hand in his, my heart didn’t race, but every beat slammed against my chest, the blood in my veins changing from warm to cold as it spread throughout my body. But I trusted him, wholeheartedly. I couldn’t afford not to. He was the only person I felt safe with, the only man whose touch didn’t burn. I took a leap last night, and I fell without hitting rock bottom because he caught me with open arms. I had to trust he would do so again.
Hand in hand, I followed him as he led me across the road to the abandoned building. The windows were shattered, torn plastic covers flapping in the warm breeze. The old exterior of red bricks had faded, broken gutters hanging down the walls. We walked through a door barely hanging on to its hinges, and the dank, empty space reeked of mold and dust. I shuddered to think how many dead rodents there had to be rotting in here.
“You know,” I stepped over a concrete slab laying in the middle of fucking nowhere, “if this is your idea of a date, I’ll need to reconsider our little rendezvous last night as less of a long-term thing and more of a one-night-stand kinda deal.”