by Ker Dukey
Happy?
It’s such a foreign concept, but the past three years with Viktor have been the closest, for sure. He’s given me friendship and brotherhood. Unspoken love. Different than what I feel for Bethany, but somehow just as deep.
“I don’t understand it,” I growl.
“You don’t have to,” he murmurs. “You just have to go with it.”
His fingertips run along my buzzed scalp, and I groan. I want to fuck. Fuck and claim and own. Turning my face toward his chest, I scrape my teeth along his skin. The hiss coming from him makes my dick thump against his thigh. Angrily, I nip at his abs and pecs. Not hard enough to break the skin, just hard enough to warn him.
If you’re fucking playing me, I’ll tear you apart with my teeth.
“Get out of your head, Benjamin, and do what we both know needs to happen. What will happen. What will bind us as not just friends and partners but family.”
His words scream to my black, bloodied, motherfucking broken soul.
You’re mine.
I’m yours.
We’ll get her back.
I attack him as though I can steal the words from his mouth. I sure as hell try. I bite at his bottom lip, challenging him to say more. But he only grunts and angles his head to kiss me. It’s not some bullshit gay fairy kiss either.
He’s stealing my soul.
The motherfucker is the devil.
I spear my tongue into his hot mouth and show him even the devil answers to someone. My mouth possesses his as our bodies grind against one another. He’s as strong as me, so when he begins manipulating our bodies in a certain way, I can’t even fight it. His grip on my hips is painful—bruising even—but it makes my cock seep with need. And then his large hand is wrapped around my throbbing cock, our mouths never missing a beat on dueling with one another.
“Get your dick wet, Benjamin,” he orders against my mouth.
I jerk away from him, my chest heaving with breaths, and glare. With an evil smile, I stick my fingers into his mouth, forcing them down the back of his throat, and fuck it until his eyes burn bright red and he gags. Then, I reach between us and wet my dick.
“Make this real,” he urges, wild fire raging in his eyes. The mask of control has slipped and he’s beastly like me in this moment. There are no masters. Only monsters. Brothers.
I’ve never fucked a guy. I never even considered it. Yet, Viktor doesn’t even register as a sexual preference. He’s just Viktor. The suited savior who’s had my back since I crawled out of my burning home, barely alive.
“Fuck!” I scream. My spittle sprays his face, but he doesn’t even blink. He bares his teeth at me in challenge. The vein in his throat bulges and throbs.
“Make. This. Fucking. Real.”
With my eyes pinning his, I grip my cock and begin pushing the tip against his hairy ass. He’s spread his thighs apart so he can accept me. At first, I meet resistance against the puckered entrance, but then, with a little power, I’m able to drive all the way in.
I want to watch him. See his face contort into one of pain. But my fucking God it feels so goddamn intense, my eyes slam shut. My balls seize up as if I’m going to blow my load right away. Instead of coming like a teenage loser, I grit my teeth and snap my eyes back open.
His eyes are swimming with lust and fire and a mutual rage. Emotions he’s kept well-hidden not only swim to the surface, but they thrash there. They make themselves known. I own him. I’ve always fucking owned him.
He grips my throat and jerks me to him. My dick slides deeper inside him, causing us both to moan. The greedy bastard sucks my tongue into his mouth as he squeezes the shit out of my neck. Grabbing his free wrist, I pin it to the bed and begin thrusting into him without apology. I don’t know if it hurts, and I don’t fucking care. I just want him to know I’m the motherfucker in charge here. He’s always wanted to be in charge—to be the autocratic ruler over me—but you can’t master something you didn’t create. You certainly can’t dominate that which you crave to submit to.
Stars dance in my vision the tighter he chokes me. I thunder into him harder, as if I’ll be able to split him open and replace all the parts of him with me. Our teeth nip at each other’s mouths.
Two monsters dead set on ruling the other.
“Fuck,” I hiss, my orgasm drawing close again.
“Make me come, Benjamin,” he orders, his voice raspy and full of need.
I bite his lip hard enough that I taste blood, but find myself obeying. Releasing his wrist, I slip my hand between us and grip his cock. It’s hot and thick in my hand. I stroke him like I like to be stroked—hard and furious—until he’s coming with a guttural groan. The pure, animalistic sound sends me over the edge. My nuts seize up and my seed explodes from me.
Hot. Violent. Intense.
I fill him. I fucking mark him.
He rubs at his cum on his belly before making a V over my heart.
The fucker marks me too.
When our eyes meet again, I finally understand.
We’re not two monsters dead set on ruling each other.
We’re going to rule together.
“You sure this is the place?” I ask, my fingers thrumming against the steering wheel to a beat that only exists in my head. It’s a place I’ve gone to before many times to buy toiletries and other items when I was younger, and then when I had my dolls, Jade and Macy. Something niggles at me. Maybe Lucy does have something against me.
Viktor, now showered and dressed in one of his damn power suits, looks at his phone app and nods. “It leads here. An abandoned drugstore. Why here, though?”
The air is charged between us, but it’s no longer something foreign and strange. It’s powerful. Energy only created by two people like us. Viktor was right. We’re better when we operate as one. When we become one. My dick lurches in my jeans at the reminder, but I ignore it for now. I’m buzzing with a high I don’t understand—a high Viktor injected me with. And soon, I’ll have Bethany back to complete our family. I’ll have both my dolls and I’ll be fucking happy like Viktor claims.
Just have to clean house a bit first.
Get rid of this dumb psycho cunt.
“There,” Viktor says as he points through the windshield. “See her?”
Lucy walks out from behind the dumpster in one of her stupid skintight latex black cat suits she used to wear at The Vault. Her blonde hair hangs in silky waves in front of her tits, which are all but falling out of the material. She’s painted her lips bright crimson—the color of blood—and she better fucking hope it’s lipstick and not my doll’s blood. One of her knives is gripped tightly in her right hand and her cell is in her left. Shit is getting more twilight zone than reality. I bite the inside of my cheek to make sure I haven’t slipped into some kind of coma and I’m making all of this up inside my head. She looks like something out of a bad villain movie. A chuckle almost threatens, but my rage douses the humor, and I’m back to wanting to just cut her limb from limb so I can see all the red inside her.
“I could break her neck before she could get one stab,” I growl.
Viktor reaches over and squeezes my thigh. One simple touch and my head is spinning with questions. What are we now? What am I? Is this normal to bond in such a way that it goes beyond titles and gender? Beyond love and hate? Beyond what’s expected even of ourselves? “Let’s hear what she has to say first. Bethany could be in trouble.”
Viktor. Always thinking three steps ahead.
“Right,” I grunt in agreement.
He pats my jean-clad thigh and climbs out of the vehicle. I get out and follow close behind him, watching her over his shoulder.
“Evening, boys,” Lucy chirps, her grin wicked. As if we’re meeting up for fucking drinks. As if she doesn’t have my entire world in her clutches.
Viktor makes a sound of disappointment at her, and it reminds me she doesn’t have my entire world. Just a very important piece. “Enough with the bullshit, Jessica.”
“It’s Lucy now,” she spits out.
Viktor shrugs. “We all have our aliases, but you’re still Jessica Johnson according to the state of Arkansas. Isn’t that correct?”
“Whatever. I’m not playing your games,” she snaps at him. “I knew you would follow my tracker.”
Viktor glances over his shoulder at me before looking back at her. “Luring us here through your tracker is indeed a game, whether you want to admit it or not.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And I’m really good at games.”
Her features pinch together angrily. “Enough! I don’t care to talk. I care to trade.”
This piques my interest. “What do you want?” I growl.
She laughs, throaty and loud. “Oh, you still really don’t get it.”
Viktor stiffens. It’s definitely about me, then. I’m drawing blanks, though. Was she related to one of the dolls I’d taken? She doesn’t resemble any of them. I remember their faces perfectly. Every last broken one of them.
“I want Benny.” She points her knife in the air at me. Our eyes meet and she bats her lashes at me. “I want you.”
Doesn’t everyone, bitch?
“Why?” Viktor asks. “What’s so special to you about Benjamin?” His tone is possessive and protective. It makes my chest tighten in response.
Brothers look out for each other.
Mine is standing in front of me, facing off with this psycho bitch, because he thinks he’s protecting me.
Trust.
I could bypass him and slit her throat, but he wants me to trust him. Hell, I want to trust him. So, for now, I do. I remain behind him. Waiting for his cue.
“You seriously don’t remember me?” she demands, her voice shrill. “What a fucking asshole! You were one then, and you’re still one.” Her voice cracks. “Think, Benjamin. Does this place not seem familiar to you? How about the Ace Roller Shack? Ring any bells?”
This place was just a fucking store, bitch. One I’d come to for supplies when my cunt father left us. Ace Roller Shack was a hangout for inferior snot-nosed brats.
The name unclicks something inside my brain, though.
Wait.
I study her face, wash it clean in my mind, taking the years off. The blonde hair. Jessica, Jessica, Jess, Jess. “Jess, come on.” An irritating voice chimes in my mind. I do remember her. My thoughts expand and I’m thrust into the past.
People irritate me. Even walking past me. If their body comes too close, their mundane existence touching me, it drives me crazy. I keep my distance and don’t make eye contact with the two girls giggling to each other while they keep looking over at me. All I can think about is painting their faces in the correct manner instead of the appalling attempt they’ve made. One looks like she has slugs for eyebrows.
Does she think that’s beautiful?
“Tell her to go on the pill,” the blonde of the two chirps over at me.
I turn my head in her direction, visions of scrubbing her face and body until she bleeds and her skin renews play like a vivid dream in the aisle.
“Oh God, he’s just staring at you. Maybe he doesn’t have a girlfriend,” the redhead says before chuckling.
“He’s buying condoms,” the blonde argues.
The redhead shrugs her shoulders. “So?”
“I’m on the pill,” the blonde blurts out, ignoring her friend. “Saves using those nasty things.” She bites her lip, and I’m hoping her teeth pierce the skin.
They don’t.
She walks toward me, and the hair on my neck prickles. She stinks of cheap perfume and she’s in my space. My body stiffens as she leans up and whispers, “Come by the Ace Roller Shack sometime.”
Her hair sags under the weight of the hair spray she used to keep curls in. The waves of anxiety flood through my body. Urges, strong and unthinkable, surge through my veins. I want to wash her clean in her own river of tears and blood.
“Jess, come on,” the redhead complains. “He’s freaking me out.” Her tone is gentle, but the mocking spirals through it.
Backing away from me, they leave the aisle, and all I want to do is get the hell out of here.
“Because I turned you down?” I ask, my tone incredulous as the memory fades. I’m surprised I could recall it at all. It’s only because of the events that took place after that it’s even there to begin with. What a petty, irritating, worthless vendetta. “All this because I didn’t go fucking roller skating with you?” This is stupid. “Petty-ass bitch.”
She screeches and advances a step. Viktor snaps at her. “Stay right there.”
“Yeah, Jess, stay right there,” I mock. “I knew I should have bloodied your ugly face up in the condom aisle that day.”
“Benjamin,” Viktor warns.
But I’m more than pissed now. I’m not going to sit back and let this psycho cunt try to ruin my life over something so damn stupid.
“You should have!” she screams at me, fat tears welling in her eyes. “You should have done your worst right here behind this drugstore. It would have been better than what he did to me.”
The way she says he has my hackles rising.
“Who?” Viktor says softly. “What did he do to you?”
She lets out a choked sob, then sucks her emotions down inside with a deep breath before sneering. “He followed me. After I walked my friend home, he followed me. When he flashed his red and blue lights behind me, I stopped to talk to the officer.” Her body trembles, but it’s unclear whether it’s fear or rage. “He said there was a predator on the loose—that I should go with him. That he’d take me home.” A tear rolls down her cheek, but she’s quick to swipe it away. “For some stupid reason, my mind went to you. The fucking weirdo from the drugstore.” Another pained sob. “I thought he was saving me from you.”
Ha! Stupid, pathetic, mundane cunt. No one can save you from me.
I grit my teeth. “I wouldn’t touch you then, and I certainly won’t touch you now.” A growl rumbles through me. “But I’d like to hack away at your face. It’s always been a dream of mine.”
“Enough,” Viktor barks.
She unzips the front of her cat suit all the way to her pussy, and I stare, unimpressed when she reveals her stomach and breasts. Words are carved in scars all over her flesh. The word cunt makes me smile.
“Boo fucking hoo. Join the list of all the people my psychotic daddy tortured,” I snarl. “I don’t fucking care that you have scars from him. Don’t we all? Bethany has nothing to do with this. Where is she?”
“Oh,” she screeches. “Your sick fuck daddy didn’t write these. No, these are the words he chanted while violating me. The words he called you.”
My tendons pull taut and every urge inside me tells me to punch her jaw off her face to stop her mouth from moving.
“He had so much to say about his disappointment of a son.” Her tone is dripping with hate. “He hated you and took all that hate and sank it into me.”
“Who the fuck cares, whore?” I snap, hoping to end her stupid story time. “Where is Bethany?”
She points the knife out toward me. “She’s fucking dead, you delusional fuck.”
The breath from my lungs expires and I think I’m going to pass out.
No.
No.
No.
She’s lying.
“But Elizabeth is alive, for now.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The bitch is playing fucking games.
“Stop with the games already, you’re not very good at them,” Viktor warns, and I’m left sucking in air to fill my lungs.
“I’m sorry you had to be involved in this,” she says to Viktor, actual sadness in her voice. “But you chose him the moment he turned up at The Vault. I saw it. The enigma. The instant connection. I knew I lost you to him.”
She tosses the phone at him, and he catches it easily.
“You never had me. I helped you
because I could use you. Nothing more. And you made a mistake by betraying me. How ever this plays out, you will live to regret it,” Viktor tells her before looking down at the screen.
A hiss escapes him that has me jerking the phone from his grip. What I see sucks the breath right from my chest. A video. Live feed, perhaps. Bethany is naked, face down in the bathtub, her blood smeared all over the white fiberglass with her wrists bound behind her at her ass. Her knees are bent and her tied ankles are attached by rope to her wrists. Water sits in the bottom half of the tub and her neck is tilted back as she desperately tries to keep her head above it. Every so often, she sucks in a deep breath, then her face falls below the surface. Towels have been rolled and stuffed on either side of her between the tub and her body so she can’t move in any direction.
My heart rate skyrockets. “Where is she?” I bellow.
“Not so fast, asshole,” she snaps. “If you want the girl unharmed, then you have to come with me.” She points at me again with her knife as she zips up her suit. “I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life. Since the moment your father made me his plaything. He told me he was watching you. Fucking following you. And then I happened to step out of that store and gain his interest. It’s all your fault!”
“Tell me where the girl is,” Viktor urges. “She’ll drown if we don’t get to her.”
“You don’t care about her. You’re in love with him,” she cackles, her red lipstick staining her top teeth. “But does he love you? That is the question. How loyal is your monster? Did you make the right choice?”
She pulls something from her back pocket. “Benny, you have a choice. You can leave with the location and go rescue your dolly. But if you choose that, I’ll kill your master, and I will kill him slowly.”
Images barrage into the forefront of my mind, him suffering at her hand. Dying while knowing it’s my fault, but not by my hand. No. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose either of them. Why can’t I just have my dolls and be left alone by crazy, jealous fucks wanting to cut them free of their strings? They like their strings. They love their creator, their master, their fucking monster.