Twisted Death (A Twisted Fairy Tale Book 2)

by Ace Gray

  “What do you mean?” Her voice shook when she asked.

  “He sent you the ledger, Elle, to make up for killing your mother.”

  And without thinking twice, I pulled the trigger.

  15.

  Elle

  My heart shuddered to a stop and my breath hung frozen in the air just beyond my lips. Blood was spattered across the man’s chin and pooled in the hollow of his throat before running across his skin, the slats of the chair and onto the floor, catching in the grout pattern on the tile beneath his body.

  Cole sat on top of him as still as I was, but calm. Too calm. Not a single one of his perfectly rigid muscles tensed until he stood. He bent to lay the gun on the dead man’s perfectly clean chest, the barrel pointed as though it might obliterate the seeping hole in his chin even further.

  He’d killed a man. Easily. With barely any hesitation and a simple twitch of his finger.

  And he’d done it for me.

  I should have been repulsed. Horrified at the monster coiled in front of me, but I couldn’t be. While I’d known he was a killer—he’d told me over and over about the black coal in place of his heart—I’d been the only one to put my true inky dark on display.

  He’s gone and slayed a dragon for me.

  The warmth that spread through me was like the tracks of the blood coating the floor and the white toes of Cole’s Chuck Taylors, only mine were probably twice as sick. I followed the design back to the contours of the puddle, oddly transfixed by the graceful arcs and curves of the shape that had formed, until I settled on the dead man’s face.

  A sudden flash shot through my memory. Then another. And in a matter of moments, the dead man was alive. He’d sat next to me at the funeral, I’d just been too furious at my mom for dying, and Jimmy for letting her, to notice. He’d offered his condolences but in reality, it was a truthful and incredibly real apology.

  My stomach churned at the flashes of the living, breathing man who’d become a corpse in front of me. Bile rose in my throat and my hands rushed to cover my mouth.

  Cole was there, his hands at my elbows a second later.

  “Ladyface, Ladylove. I’m sorry. I…” he stammered. “What have I done?” he asked as his face fell completely. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I wanted to get the information and rough him up enough that Mickey would know… He would see…” Panic was crashing through his voice like thunder in a woeful storm. “But…” He tried to continue but his voice cut off completely this time.

  “But you decided to fight for me,” I said simply, my voice smooth where it had trembled before.

  “Correction,” he said softly, “I decided to fight Mickey for you. I was already up against every other force…” His voice trailed off as if it hurt to speak the words out loud. And honestly, those words probably did.

  I walked over to him, fully aware when the floor beneath my shoes went slick. I pushed both the instinct to heave and the twisted desire to smile out of my mind and simply followed my heart, pushing up onto my tiptoes to kiss Cole’s cheek. Right where the dimple used to be. He shuddered beneath my lips but otherwise didn’t move. I kissed him gently at the corner of his mouth then on the opposite cheekbone, putting as much love and affection into my kisses as I possibly could.

  He sighed a breathtaking sound, the utter embodiment of ecstasy, and every fiber of my being reacted. Goose bumps shot along my skin, barely preceding the wildfire blush that bloomed across my chest and singed my ears. My heart hit against my ribs and for a split second, I was eternally grateful that it had a cage. I had to knock my knees together too, partially because of the desperate need now seeping between my thighs and partially because I’d all but forgotten how to stand.

  He shoved his hands up into my hair and pulled my head back. I cried out and my sound was otherworldly rather than mine. Cole kissed the corner of my jaw then nipped in the same spot just before dragging his teeth down along my neck shivers enough to quake my soul ran down my spine.

  But then he froze.

  And every muscle in his body clenched.

  His head snapped toward the front door as he pulled me close, our steps sloshing in blood. The moment I regained the use of my surrendered body, I followed his line of sight. Two beams of light swept the furniture I’d walked past moments ago, making hypnotic spots swirl on the floor.

  “Fuck!” Cole whispered the word but there was enough venom, enough terror, that it rang in my ears. “There were cops outside. I pulled the trigger with cops outside.” He swore again as his words threatened to bulldoze me.

  His eyes started darting side-to-side, thoughts racing behind his wide and horrified gaze.

  “Strip,” he commanded.

  I didn’t question him in the least, I started ripping clothes from my body.

  “Throw them at the back door.” Cole pointed as he started to do the same thing.

  Dried-on frosting still clung to his perfect torso highlighting contours that usually hid behind his dark panther. I couldn’t help but smirk as the lust I felt earlier came crashing back through me. He caught my gaze, and rather than smirk at the mischief I knew was dancing on my features, he leaned in and tenderly kissed the tip of my nose.

  “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for what I’m going to do next.”

  I didn’t even have time to react before he reached down to where we’d been standing only a few moments ago. Blood easily coated his hands, and with tiny pools resting in his palms. Coated in crimson, he put his hands on me.

  The scream that let loose from my lips was enough to curdle even my own blood. I couldn’t help it as the sticky, slightly warm red ran in tiny rivers down my skin. My stomach turned in on itself and I tried to shove away from him. He didn’t even waver. Bright red palms grabbed at me, rubbed on me, painted on me…

  I realized what he was doing the moment he turned my back to his front and his hands came to the curve of my ass and squeezed. He used his grip to pull me open to make room for his cock.

  Without warning, he shoved into me. I screamed out again, and this time he purred his approval as his hands skated up to my breasts. His fingers only danced and flicked against me for a moment before he started thrusting into me hard and fast. His dick needed no encouragement to claim me even coated in muck and mire. Cole groaned out, ragged, breathy, and utterly consumed.

  He liked that blood was covering my flesh.

  I shoved against him, wanting him to get the fuck off me so I could scream at him or run out the front door, or something when one of the dancing spotlights hit us. As if on cue, Cole roared out and let his fist fly from my body to smash into a glass case nearby. He hit it with such fury that glass sprayed onto us with an almost deafening shatter. Tiny pieces flew across my back then ground into my skin where he was still furiously thrusting into me.

  My eyes rolled back and my breathy moans were out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop myself. I hated enjoying the tiny twinge of pain that made this all the more erotic. He roared again and this time his hand didn’t smash glass, it came to my throat and pulled.

  The spotlight from the window hadn’t faltered. And when Cole pinned me back to his torso and squeezed hard enough on my neck to lift me onto my tiptoes, they got their money’s worth.

  “You like this officer?” Cole snapped through gritted teeth and I could imagine him staring down the faceless men behind the flashlights. “You like watching animal instinct and predator debasement on display?” The rasp of his voice and the way he pressed inside me were downright delectable. I couldn’t help but surrender to him, our bodies speaking their elemental language, and pure, churning lust taking over.

  My vision started to cloud around the edges, the telltale sign that he was squeezing hard in pleasure. My toes were tingly and numb where they slipped in the now-cool life beneath us. My hands scrambled back for him. He snatched one with his free hand and laced his fingers into mine. He pulled my hand up and pressed it to my stomach, balling our hands into an entwined fist
as his hips picked up pace.

  I cried out, long and agonized.

  “Yes, Ladyface, yes,” Cole purred into my slightly ringing ears.

  Without warning, Cole dropped his hand from my throat and pulled out of me. He spun me and while the splash at my feet was slightly distracting, his lips crashing violently into mine was enough to bring me back to the smoking flames burning between us.

  He reached down and pulled my legs up to his hips. I didn’t need coaxing to wrap them around him and hold on tight; he easily slid back into me. My arms wove around his neck and I gave them free rein to yank on the tails of his blonde locks. He growled and his wayward fingers slipped toward my backside. His finger pressed into me just as we whirled from where we stood to crash up against a bookshelf behind us.

  We hit with such force that I cried out rough and ragged, rather than in pleasure. Books and photos crashed around me. The pain would have been too much if it weren’t for the way he stroked inside me. Both front and back. My back ached, probably bruised from our landing, but the pain was the only thing that kept me grounded. The only touchpoint with reality in an otherwise hazy lust-filled landscape. The blood was likely the same thing. The only way I didn’t get lost in a fairy tale notions.

  Because this? This was ecstasy. And as he slid a second finger into my ass, I surrendered to it and to the fact that I was grateful we were covered in blood. Grateful the prince, the princess, the dragon, the villain were really all meshed together. Grateful that Cole saw the world in shades of red rather than black and white. Grateful that all of it made him real.

  That was what sent me over the edge. Cole. Pure, unadulterated Cole.

  I bucked wildly against him as the waves of orgasm shook my body. My nails found the graceful curve of his shoulders and dug in. It was his turn to cry out. His fingers inside me responded too, pulling wider and stroking on his cock through my thin skin.

  The second I stopped screeching, he put me back on the floor and pulled out. We twisted leaving toe tracks across the floor; I could only focus on the way my gasps shook my entire body.

  Cole bent me over the arm of the nearest chair and replaced his fingers with the head of his cock. Before I even adjusted, he was pushing into my ass. The tight fill had me screeching all over again but he simply arched over me and shoved my face into the upholstery of the couch cushions beneath us.

  He lifted a foot to the armrest, smashed between my hip and the back of the chair. The way he leveraged himself let him hammer into me, his hips not only sending fire to roll across my skin but also to the furniture to roll across the floor.

  It didn’t take long for him to tense behind me. I waited for the sensation of him shooting inside me but it didn’t come. Instead he pulled out. His hand left my hip and rough stroking cut through my whimpered breaths. A moment later hot cum jetted across my back. His perfect moans matched each little flash of heat.

  His foot slipped off the couch then his fingertips came to where he coated my back. With a single finger, he started to trace shapes, painting on my skin once more. He made small, little circles, disjointed dots across my back. Then he dragged his finger between them and the shape became familiar. The Little Dipper.

  I smiled in spite of myself.

  Slowly, Cole reached down and grabbed me, collecting my limp, used body into his arms. Our spotlight was gone, our distraction had worked. Considering the fact that I barely remembered what had happened a few moments ago, probably a little too well.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against my ear and my hair danced against his warm breath.

  “Why?” I breathed the word then planted my lips to his sweaty chest beneath me.

  “There’s blood everywhere, I didn’t think distraction would be enough.” He swallowed hard. “With the frosting, I hoped it could pass for paint. But God…” He barely choked out the words until they trailed off altogether. “The blood of the man that killed your mother is smeared across your body. I’m fucked up.” He heaved as though he might be sick.

  And when he put it like that, it turned more than my stomach. But I knew why he’d done it. I knew what he was fighting for and that he’d use any means necessary.

  “Sure there’s a darkness about you…” I made sure to hold onto him tighter. “But it’s where mine found a home. You’re my dark knight. You’re my everything.”

  “I’m going to make this up to you,” he murmured against my forehead.

  “Maybe tell me we don’t have to clean this up?” My smile spread and I couldn’t help but bite my lip.

  He looked down in the glimmer of the streetlight and studied my face intently. He brushed a few of the hairs out of my eyes and found his matching smirk. Well, not matching, his painstakingly sad and tragically beautiful new version had a wariness mine didn’t yet hold. I nestled into his chest and relished every inch that my sticky skin stuck to his. He laughed a tentative but husky little laugh.

  “We don’t have to clean up. Mickey has a guy for that.”

  My heart skittered at the mention of Mickey and I unwound from him and lead him toward our clothes laying by the back door.

  “What are we going to do about Mickey?” I asked as I started to get dressed in my blood-smattered clothes.

  “Tell him where they sent the ledger,” Cole answered calmly as he pulled on his pants.

  “But…?” Panic welled in my voice. I wasn’t afraid of Cole but Mickey was enough to squeeze my heart. Hard. “But that will lead him to me.” The image of Mickey barging into my house, getting into Horse’s face, or even Conrad’s, was the first thing tonight to drain the blood from my cheeks.

  “I know…” his smirk peeked out again. “And I’m gonna have to tear Horse’s house to shreds. But when I find nothing, I can suggest that you’re under my surveillance at all times.”

  “What?” I fastened my jean fly button.

  “And Mickey’s gonna agree,” he continued.

  “What does that mean for me?” I couldn’t help but remember the way my skin crawled when Mickey’s twisted gaze swept over my body and I shuddered.

  Cole noticed and stepped toward me. He shoved his hand down the front of my pants and grabbed the denim to pull me toward him. His other hand fisted into the fabric of my t-shirt and he pinned my body to his in a move equal parts dominance and ownership. A full, radiant split his face.

  “You’re moving in with me, Ladyface,” he said with a sultry, silky voice that made my knees waver. “And I’m locking you in my tower to do with as I please.”

  16.

  Cole

  Cold eyes. Cold heart. Dark monster. Black soul.

  I repeated the mantra over and over as I sat draped over my wooden throne in the deep dark room waiting for Satan to roll in on a wave of flame. Now that I was fighting, now that I had a plan, I was anxious to put it into action. And that was a big enough problem in and of itself. I hadn’t been anxious in months. I’d been a listless puppet with a heart of stone sitting on a velvet pedestal. Now when it mattered most, I had to keep that up.

  Horse had been less than thrilled with my plan but in the end, he’d agreed. He had to be reciting his own mantra now too. Be mad. But not too mad. Resist. But not too hard. Love Elle but prove you love yourself more. That’s what Mickey would accept.

  Well accept was probably too strong of a word. We were going to pay. Elle and Horse were going to have to pay. I was going to have to sway Mickey as to how, or the price would get that much steeper for everyone involved.

  The door slammed open jostling the wall, chattering artwork frames and sending a breeze to make the candle flames dance around the room. It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to jump out of my seat.

  Cold eyes. Cold heart. Dark monster. Black soul.

  I forced myself to watch detached as Mickey stalked toward the seat next to me. Just once I glanced at the men that had followed him in then ducked into the shadow. One was sporting a busted lip and the other held his side. My insides seized.
If he was roughing his underlings up without an audience, his mood was a certain brand of foul reserved for the dead and decaying.

  He flopped into the seat beside me then stomped as he screamed into the room sending more than my eardrums trembling. But I kept it together. I didn’t even flinch.

  “When you’re quite finished…” I raised my eyebrows the mildest bit. “You might want to know where they mailed the fucking ledger.”

  I pulled my knife out and started picking at my nails, purposely paying no attention to Mickey as his gaze bored into the side of my skull.

  “Any fucking time, Cole,” he bellowed.

  I simply twisted with lightning speed, placing the blade of my knife right beneath his jaw. “I’m not in the mood today, Mick. My shoes got dirty last night.” I spat the words at him and eyes darted to where my knife rested against his skin.

  All it would take was a little pressure and the flick of the wrist. Perhaps everyone would wordlessly follow me now that Siobhan was gone and I’d proven to be as ice filled as her. My mangled smirk pulled at my lip and I couldn’t help but put a little pressure against his throat.

  He lifted his chin and whispered, “Do it. I dare you.”

  But then the door creaked on its hinges and Horse’s familiar voice boomed, “Go,” as he pointed into the dark room.

  Mickey moved freely against my blade, unconcerned that it scraped against his flesh as he adjusted his gaze toward our new visitors.

  “Horse, please. Tell me what’s going on?” Elle’s little voice trembled just before he all but shoved her into the room. She stumbled and for a split second Horse broke. His eyes flashed worry as he tried to reach for her. I prayed I was the only one that noticed.

  “Well, well, well.” I flicked the knife as I pulled it from Mickey’s throat and righted myself in my seat. “If it isn’t the woman of the hour,” I spoke with a wicked purr that made even my skin crawl.