by Ker Dukey
“Tick tock,” she spits, moving the point of her blade in Viktor’s direction.
Pain at the thought of losing Viktor stings too harsh. The loss would haunt and break me. I’m too attached.
He’s mine.
Mine.
Mine.
And she can’t have either of them.
“What’s the other option?” I growl.
“Or, you take this.” She wiggles a pill at me, but looks at him. “Then, I give him the location to find your doll and you have to trust that he will look for her. But I get you. That’s how this goes down,” she says to both Viktor and me.
I glance back down at Bethany on the screen. She won’t last another twenty minutes. She’ll tire out and eventually drown. I grip Viktor’s shoulder and squeeze.
“I need you to find her,” I whisper. “I trust that you will.”
His amber eyes widen and flicker as though flames are igniting within him. He jerks his head back over to her. “No,” Viktor yells, his cool demeanor officially gone. “He’s not going with you. I’ll go.”
She laughs. “Decisions, decisions. I can wait you out. She’ll drown. I’ll cut you both to shreds before the night’s over anyway. I have nothing to lose.”
“I’m staying,” I snarl, then mutter to Viktor, “I need you to trust me too. Please find her. Take care of her.”
I’ll kill this bitch, I tell him with a hard gaze. I’ll make her fucking suffer.
When she tosses me the pill, I catch it and swallow it dry. Viktor grits his teeth, but gives me a clipped nod. Time is of the essence.
“Location. Now,” I bark at her.
“Get in the car first,” she orders. “I don’t want to have to lug your big ass any more than I have to.”
I stride over to her car and she makes a point of pulling the tracker from under the hood and tossing it to the ground. She slips into the seat next to me. My limbs are heavy and I can’t lift my arm to throttle her.
“Crystalline Hotel on highway fourteen. Room twenty-six. Key is under the door mat,” she says coolly out the window to Viktor. “Better hurry. That’s at least a fifteen-minute drive from here. Do you think she even has fifteen minutes left on her pathetic life?”
Viktor shoots me one more determined look before stalking away. The sound of the tires squealing is music to my ears.
My eyelids begin to feel heavy, and I sway from side to side in the seat.
“Now, now, sleepy,” she purrs. “Not bedtime yet. We have a little change of plans. Come on. You’ll be out soon, so we need to make this quick.”
I’m confused when she gets back out of the car. What the fuck is she doing? Everything spins around me. She comes around to help me and I lean on her for leverage. My mind is woozy and the world becomes distorted around me.
I stumble as she leads me around the side of the building where another car is parked. She opens the backseat and I fall inside. My plans to break her neck while we drive fizzle away as blackness closes in around me. The car door slams, and then we’re gone.
I fade away, hoping Viktor saves my doll.
But I don’t worry about him saving me.
I’ll fucking save myself.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
Black.
Viktor
LEAVING HIM WITH THAT PSYCHOTIC bitch is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
My hands clench the steering wheel so tight, they almost become one in the same. The GPS tells me I’m still five minutes away. Honking the horn at the traffic in front of me isn’t helping keep me calm. I need to focus. Cool my blood and clear my mind.
A chaotic mind is a dangerous mind, moy brat.
My brother knew what he was talking about and each lesson he taught me has come to fruition in some form or another. I check the clock for the thousandth time and pull out into oncoming traffic, running the red light and pulling back into my own lane. Horns sound out around me, but this is life and death, so everyone else can fuck off.
I take the final right and pull into a rundown motel. The lights are out and the courtyard is overgrown with weeds. Windows are smashed and graffiti covers the walls and doors. What the hell would Jessica—Lucy never suited her anyway—be doing here? I shut the car off as soon as I get it in park and bolt from the vehicle. My feet pick up into a run as I realize I’m at the bottom end and need to be up top to number 26. Within seconds, I’m at the location.
I kick the door open, not bothering with a key, and it gives easily, practically disintegrating on impact. “Elizabeth?” I call out, scanning the room and locating the bathroom. Her body is still and her head is completely submerged in pink water. I drop to my knees and jerk her from the water by her hair, wincing at the temperature of her icy skin. That stupid bitch let cold water trickle around her, freezing Elizabeth before drowning her.
I pull her into my arms, soaking my suit, and push the wet strands of hair from her face. Quickly, I carry her over to an old beat up bed and sit with her in my lap. Since she’s bound and I don’t have time to untie her, I cradle her across my thighs and check her pulse, but there isn’t one.
Fuck. How long was she under?
Tipping her chin, I squeeze her nose and blow into her mouth. One. Two. Stopping and placing one palm down on top of my dominant hand, I begin compressions. Back and forth, I switch from trying to pump her heart and blowing air into her lungs. Her body jerks, and as I’m blowing into her mouth for the fourth time, water rushes from her mouth into mine, forcing me away so she can cough and sputter.
“It’s okay,” I assure her, my tone calm.
I help tilt her to the side. Her hands and feet are still bound behind her, contorting her body at an unusual angle. Sounds of her gasps are music to my ears.
“Thank you,” she rasps out, her lips a dark shade of blue. “Thank you.”
I slip my jacket off and lay it over her bare form before untying her and helping her sit beside me on the bed. She slips on my jacket and wraps it tight to her body. Fresh, weeping blood blossoms on her chest from me upsetting the healing.
“Where is he?” she asks, searching behind me.
I don’t want to answer her. I feel almost at fault, like I failed him. I vetted Lucy. I had no idea about any attack on her. It makes sense, though. After getting abused by Benny’s dad, she became unstable with her home life and ran away.
But why harbor such animosity for so long?
People try to tell me fate doesn’t exist—that we control our own paths, but how can it be that both Jessica and Benjamin came to me and both had a connection to each other, setting off a chain of misfortunate events?
My cell phone vibrates against my leg and I use it as an excuse not to answer her straight away. I hold up my hand, signaling I need to take the call, and walk outside.
“What is it?” I bark down the line, assuming it’s someone from the club. The club seems so insignificant now. My father would be so disappointed in me for letting it go down the way it has. But disappointing him is something I’m accustomed to.
“Harris,” a voice growls. “It’s Detective Scott.”
Well, a bit too late, asshole. No wonder Benjamin detests him so much. He is useless.
“Yes?”
“I had some personal things come up, but I wanted to let you know I got the girl out.”
My heart hammers in my chest and fury, untamed and ruthless, surges through me. He’s lying. He’s saying he has Elizabeth, to what end? To lure Benjamin in?
“Harris, are you still there? The signal’s not very good at the hospital.”
“Why are you at the hospital?”
“That’s where I brought that Kami girl. She’s in bad shape, but she’s tough—a fighter. Who is she to you?”
Kami. Kami. Kami.
I’d forgotten about her.
I slipped the address for the bunker into that cop girl’s hand, but then I didn’t even think about her, not once afterwards. I didn’t kn
ow if Dillon would go there to save Kami or not. He might have thought it was a trap and not gone after her, then she would have bled out down there in a small glass box. Bleeding out and dying while Benjamin and I—well, me at least—were satisfying a craving since the day we met. The day he called for assistance. The day he needed me. While she was potentially dying, my Benjamin, my monster, was losing himself inside me.
What does all this even mean?
One thing’s for certain: shit has changed irrevocably.
My eyes draw up to see Elizabeth has moved to the door and is watching me. Some color has sprung to her cheeks and her lips don’t seem as blue.
“She’s just an employee,” I lie.
“Well, I’d say it was more than that, but she will tell me soon enough,” Dillon grumbles. He sounds how I feel. Worn out.
I didn’t even calculate the risk of letting Dillon take Kami. She’s loyal, but damn, she’s angry. I also thought Lucy—er—Jessica would never betray me, and she did. Kami knows too much about me. Who I really am. I can’t risk leaving her where he can interrogate her.
Dillon clears his throat, and I want to reach through the phone and rip it out so he can’t ask her anything.
“Anyway, I did some digging and turns out Jessica inherited properties from her parents. I’ve sent officers to each location, but it could take some time. A lot of the buildings are motels and not in use. We’re stretched with resources and warrants don’t happen on the spot, so it’s a process.”
If I tell him I have her, will he stop looking? But what if Jessica has taken Benjamin to another one of her motels or properties? I don’t know what’s worse, having Dillon look for Benjamin or calling off the search and risking Jessica killing him. I can join the search, but having his resources will speed up the process. Fuck it.
At least if Dillon has him, then he’d be breathing and I could find a way to bargain for him. Take everyone Dillon loves if necessary.
“I need some reassurance,” he grumbles, “and as much as I think you’re an insane prick, Benny still beats you in the crazy factor, so I’m talking to you to keep him reeled in. If he goes around looking for her and shooting people, I will pull back my resources and turn them on hunting down him and you.”
My spine straightens and fists clench. I don’t take kindly to threats. This must be about Benjamin shooting his partner. “Your partner will live,” I grind out.
“Not the fucking point,” he snaps back.
“Fine, I’ll keep Benjamin in line. Just hurry up and do your search.”
The line dies and my eyes clash with Elizabeth. “Who is Kami?” she asks.
“Why would you ask that?”
“I overheard you talking to him about her.”
“Kami’s not important,” I lie smoothly. The stab of guilt from not only saying but feeling it is bearable, though. “I need to get you somewhere safe and cleaned up.”
“She has him, doesn’t she? The psycho blonde who had me?”
I offer a curt nod. Speaking the words aloud would only bring helplessness with them.
“It was my father. He did things.” She shakes her head, her body trembling. I need to get her back to my place, fix her up, then come up with a plan. I know Jessica. Her persona, Lucy, is a sadist and she draws out her pleasure for days. We have some time, and Benjamin has endured worse than her.
“I’m going to pick you up and carry you to my car,” I tell her softly. She’s blinking rapidly. She’s suffered emotional trauma, but like Benjamin, she’s a survivor.
My hands slide beneath her legs, my warm skin clashing with the cold dewy feel of her own. I’m unprepared when she rests her head against my shoulder and places her small hand on my chest. Something inside me tightens and doesn’t release. I know the possessive feeling all too well. Like Benjamin, I’m a collector of people too.
My suit jacket gapes over her small frame. The cuts on her chest are deep and weeping. She’s going to need plastic surgery if she doesn’t want horrendous scars. Her hair is wet and sticks to her face. Sad eyes find mine. She mourns him even though he still lives, but I know exactly what she’s feeling. The thought of him not being here with us is an unbearable future.
With us.
I’ll revisit that thought when I’m not going mad with worry.
“We will get him back,” she whispers in understanding, looking straight into me, as if she sees something familiar.
What is it she sees?
Herself?
I dip the sponge in the tub and lift it to her head, squeezing the water so it runs down her hair and back. She’s not shy in front of me. Her body is exposed to my eyes if I so wished to study it. And I do. Unapologetically. Her skin is delicate, like porcelain. It’s no wonder Benjamin is so taken with her. She really is like a living doll. Impossibly long, dark lashes flutter like bat wings over her oval orbs. She’s mesmerizing.
“I can treat your wounds, but once we have Benjamin safely back with us, I suggest we see a surgeon about those gashes,” I offer, dropping the sponge and applying shampoo to her hair. My fingers knead her scalp, and she sighs into my touch.
“Thank you for finding me.”
“It was Benjamin who gave himself up for that to be possible.”
Her body tenses and the flickering in her eyes is far from innocent. She’s slightly unhinged. Furious. Crazed. I marvel at how much she looks like her brother in this one moment. He, too, once gazed up at me from this bathtub, injured and in need of me.
Beautiful.
“I will kill her for this,” she mutters, dark and determined.
It sends a thrill through my body and my skin begins to hum.
Her nostrils flare as she seems to lose herself to her thoughts. A familiar mania—one I’ve seen not only in Benjamin’s eyes but my own—dances in hers. “I’ll make her bleed and scream and beg. I’ll make her wish her eyes never fell upon him or me.” Her head tilts up so she can look directly at me again. Her teeth digging into her bottom lip before she says, “You can watch.”
My stomach stirs, and I feel a change shifting inside me. I thought she would cause jealousy, wake up the demon within me, having it crave to eradicate her and feed on her until she was nothing. Because Benjamin only needs me. However, she has his same beauty inside her. The darkness—growing and flourishing inside her. Multiplying exponentially with each passing breath.
I want to harness it and sculpt it, just as I did him.
I want another monster.
I want her.
Fighting the smile that tugs at my lips, I stroke her cheek with my thumb and run it across her plump lip. She leans in to my affectionate touch. “I took the liberty of having someone pick up some clothes of yours,” I tell her softly. I rinse her hair clean and offer her a towel. She stands and lets the water cascade down her body as though she’s a water feature—one of a goddess—in a fountain. Aside from the damage on her chest, she’s flawless. Her skin is smooth and creamy, her deep brown hair long and dark enough to make her eyes pop.
Stepping into the towel, she wraps it around her body and once again places her hand on my chest over my heart. “Thank you.”
The organ beats within its confines at her touch and I wonder if she’ll notice that she’s made me hard with a simple touch.
“Your clothes are in a bag on the bed. I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay.” She smiles and holds my gaze as if she can see or feel the emotions I have burning through me for the person she loves. Instead of being jealous or angry, she’s almost appreciative. Or better yet, hungry to dissect it. She’s a monster too, after all.
I watch her sit on the unmade bed still in disarray from Benjamin and I earlier. I’m hypnotized by her as she strokes a palm over the mattress, gathering the sheet and bringing it up to her nose before wrapping it around her shoulders and laying down within it.
Can she smell him on them?
Can she smell us and what we did?
Does she know I
love him too?
That we have something powerful and exhilarating as well?
My eyes close for a brief moment to gain some control back. All the emotions clawing inside me are too hard to convey with thoughts or words.
“What do I call you?” she pipes up from the bed, and I realize I haven’t moved from my spot.
“What do you want to call me?” That answer is one I give to most people, but she’s not most people.
“What does he call you?”
All the names I’ve been given over the years dance on the tip of my tongue, so it surprises me how freeing it is to speak my given name to her. “Viktor. He calls me by my given name, Viktor.”
She rolls the name around her mouth before sitting up. “I like Viktor. It’s strong and alluring.”
“Is it?” My voice is hoarse, and I wonder why I find myself hanging on to her every word. Her words are breathy and childlike. Musical in quality. They calm the fires within me. Perhaps she does the same for Benjamin.
“Go shower, Viktor,” she says, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “We have our man to rescue.”
I blink away my daze and stalk into the bathroom. Once I’m undressed, I turn the shower to the hottest setting. Stepping under the spray, I let the burn scorch away these crazy tormented thoughts racing around my mind. Seeing her, his precious doll, lying in the aftermath of us, was something otherworldly. The humming in my veins makes me sway on my feet. Taking my cock in hand, I stroke to the image, squeezing enough to cause pain, then releasing. I can’t hold on to what I’m feeling, but I need to clear my mind so I can find him and bring him home.
When I finally step out of the bathroom, the room is empty. Drying off, I slip into a fresh suit, then find Elizabeth in the kitchen eating sandwich meat straight from the packet.
“Hungry?”
She shrugs her delicate shoulders. “She didn’t feed me.”
“What a disgraceful kidnapper,” I scold in jest.
“Amateur, that’s for sure.” She’s playful back. “Nice suit. Designer?” Her movements are graceful and fluid as she walks over to me. With a smile that makes my heart rate quicken, she strokes her fingers down the lapels. The heat of her body—and thank God for that, since not long ago she was on death’s bed—warms my front. My cock stiffens in my slacks.