Pretty Broken Dolls (Pretty Little Dolls Series Book 4)

by Ker Dukey

She wants my approval. My motherfucking admiration.

  She’s more likely to get tears from me than that. And tears are never going to happen. Viktor is the only living soul who’s ever witnessed such a sight.

  “I thought it was poetic that we finish where it all could have started,” she says in a dreamy way. “Why didn’t you want to come that day?”

  She has more issues than my father abusing her. Who holds onto something so petty? She’s mediocre at best. Her revenge is pathetic, like her fake tits. “I talked Cassian into killing your father,” she divulges. “Told him details of how he should have it done too.”

  I doubt that. Viktor would not take a lead from anyone, let alone her.

  “Stop trying to pretend you have power where you don’t,” I snort, mocking her.

  She creeps out from the shadows like a snake slithering up next to me, her knife in hand. My cock is bigger. Dragging the blade down my throat where old burn scars litter the expanse of skin, she digs in, opening up the flesh.

  I grin up at her, knowing she was hoping for a whine.

  Fuck her.

  “I knew you’d have a high threshold for pain,” she breathes, her voice wispy as her eyes glass over. “Why did you have to come back into my world? This wasn’t something I’d planned, until I saw you and remembered who you were.”

  I’m already bored and hope she will start causing real damage so I can at least pass out from the pain and get a reprieve from her goddamn mouth.

  “It was as if,” she says softly, “as if you wanted to come and take everything away from me again.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t care about you at all. You’re not even on my radar. You are a speck of dust in the desert to me. Irritating when it goes in your eye. That’s it.”

  The blade runs across my pectoral and onto my torso. She carves and whispers the word she’s creating. “Cunt.”

  Meh, tell me something I don’t know, whore.

  “It took me years, years to find a place in his heart.”

  Whose heart? Jesus fucking Christ. She means Viktor. She’s in love with Viktor. My lungs inflate and deflate with the knowledge. The burning pain offers a diversion to the rage exploding within me at the thought of her and Viktor together.

  “You really are deluded. You think you’re worthy of him?” I taunt.

  More cutting low across my stomach. Hurts like a motherfucker.

  “Liar,” she murmurs as she carves the word, ignoring my question.

  “Why would you ever think he would be interested in a fake, scarred up whore like you?” I goad louder.

  She lifts the blade and screams as she plunges it into my thigh.

  Jesus Christ!

  I yell internally, holding my breath to try to deal with the agony. My nostrils flare as I suck in air.

  “It’s because of you!” she screams. “Once you came, he couldn’t see anything or anyone else. You took him from me, like you stole my life when I was a kid.”

  My fucking father has a lot to answer for. If he weren’t already dead, I’d skin him alive him for this shit.

  The silence descends, becoming more violent than rage. That’s when the true fury washes over and takes the fear of consequences away.

  “Do you believe in fate, Monster?” she murmurs. “How can you not when our worlds once again clashed like this?”

  I glare up at her. “So, let me just clarify what’s happening,” I say, taking some deep breaths. It’s freezing in here and I’m struggling to stop my bones from rattling. “You are mad because I turned you down years ago, then Cassian preferred to idolize my cock over your pussy? So, it’s rejection that’s the real issue—nothing to do with some old man finding by some miracle pleasure in that cesspool you call a pussy?”

  “Asshole,” she bellows, jumping onto the table and straddling me. Her eyes are wild, her nostrils flaring. Her fake tits bulge from her leather cat suit. “Oh, you don’t like my pussy, Monster?” She shrieks like a rabid animal. Feral and crazed. Reaching between her legs, she grips my flaccid cock. If she takes the knife to it, I will eat her face off. Her hands are cold, and she begins stroking me. A laugh rumbles from my chest.

  “Are you trying to make it shrivel up and fall off?”

  Leaning forward, she holds the knife to my throat. “Oh, it will do just the opposite actually. Let’s see how much you enjoy this.”

  Getting to her feet beside the pool table, she places the blade down on the edge and unzips her stupid outfit. What the fuck is she doing? Her tits stand from her chest like two mountain peaks chasing down a narrow waist. Her pussy is bold and tattooed with a flower of some sort.

  “Am I supposed to be turned on by that, freak show?” I ask in a bored tone. My blood is congealing on my skin. I want this over with.

  Straddling my thighs, she takes my dick into her mouth and slurps. She’s literally a pro at this. Spent a lot of her younger days working the front of The Vault. Always had clients’ dick and balls in her ugly mouth, so she knows how to get a desired reaction. When I feel the blood pumping there, I yank against the restraints, pulling at them to try to free myself. “Get your disgusting mouth off me,” I growl.

  “Gladly,” she purrs.

  She reaches for something she placed near my feet. It’s her cell phone. She crawls up my legs and situates herself above my dick that she’s woken against its wishes. Holding her phone out with one hand and taking my dick in her other, she lowers her vulgar cunt around my shaft.

  “Don’t fucking do it, whore,” I bellow, yanking and trying to free myself.

  “Damn,” she gasps, sitting fully down on my cock. Her eyes roll back as she begins rocking her hips. “I knew this would feel good.”

  “I’m going to fucking gut you from slit to slit and empty you out,” I roar.

  Her moans are more of madness than pleasure as she continues to move and film herself. “What will your dolly and Cassian think when I send them this video of you fucking me?”

  She’s insane.

  “They’ll like the one of my coming all over your entrails when you’re dead a whole lot fucking better,” I hiss.

  I hate how my goddamn body reacts. This bitch gets my dick hard and I have no control. It’s not my body lighting up for her; it’s purely manipulation.

  “Oh,” she moans as she leans forward, her blonde hair curtaining around us. “Yesss…”

  Her hooded eyes are locked on mine as she fucks me. My body thrums and pulsates with the need to come. I have no attraction to this woman whatsoever. I never have. All that burns through me is hate for her. Her hips rotate and rock. Even though her cunt is loose, I know I’ll come soon.

  I don’t pretend I’m with Viktor or Bethany to escape.

  Instead, I keep them safe and get turned on by my hate for this bitch. My dick is impossibly hard at the idea of her blood spattered all over this room. I want to scalp her and bring her filthy hair back to make a wig for my dolly, then order her to burn it.

  “You like this too,” she whimpers.

  I buck my hips into her, but not for the reasons she thinks. With each yank of my arms and legs, the bindings loosen. The phone in her hand clatters to the table as she finds her fake breasts and touches them.

  Her body starts to tremble as her orgasm nears. With a roar, I rip my right arm from the rope and seize her neck. A garbled sound escapes her when I yank her to me. My hand crushes her throat and she flails her arms around her.

  Her face turns purple.

  Prettiest she’s ever looked.

  When her eyes seem as though they’ll pop from her skull, I come. Fuck, do I come. The thought of her death is fucking delightful. My seed pours into her, hot and furious. She’s seconds from passing out.

  Slash!

  Fire screams across my forearm, and my grip on her lessens. It’s enough for her to jerk free of my hold. Her body makes a popping sound as she scrambles off my dick.

  “You almost killed me!” she screams, wavin
g her bloody knife in front of her as she slides off the table and out of reach.

  “Come here and I’ll finish the job, dirty slut!” I bellow back.

  Her body trembles as she frantically looks around the room for something. With my arm free, I try to reach over to untie my left one. I’m still tugging when she sneaks up behind me, pinches my nose shut, and shoves a pill down my throat. I gag as it slides down, but manage to punch the shit out of the side of her head while simultaneously biting her fingers.

  The knife clatters to the floor and her body crashes into some boxes.

  Then, silence.

  I grunt as I tug some more at the rope. The room is already starting to spin. Once I manage to free my other arm, which takes time—too much time—I sit up and force a finger down my throat. Bile spews from me, but the pill has already started taking its effect.

  Desperate to get the fuck out of here, I work quickly on my ankles. I manage to loosen one, but then everything turns and closes in around me. My arm becomes heavy as my fingers swipe at the rope, but I lose focus and can’t make contact. My vision blurs and the heavy air begins weighing down on me.

  No!

  The storm clouds are rolling in.

  Darkness.

  Okay, Viktor, so I take my thoughts back. I need you to come save my ass. This bitch is fucking crazy…

  Black.

  Dillon

  “YOU TWO LOOK FUCKING COZY,” I snap, running my fingers through my greasy hair. I haven’t showered today, but that’s because I’ve been at the hospital. When I’m not trying to comfort my wife and enjoy our new son, Mason, I’m trying to locate Elizabeth and take down psychos.

  I need a goddamn vacation.

  Maryann came straight to the hospital from the airport and hasn’t left since. She bounces back between her daughter in Jade’s room and doing her job in order to keep her mind off the fact that one of her children has been taken.

  Marcus stiffens, but makes no moves to remove his hand from Elise’s bare thigh. The dress she’s wearing has ridden up now that she’s curled against his side asleep. Jade is also asleep while Mason is in the nursery for a few hours.

  He stretches out his long legs and winces, the bullet hole no doubt hurting. His thumb runs a comforting circle on her skin. “I’m going to make an honest woman out of her. We had a long talk earlier. She was wrong for lying, but our feelings for each other are real.” He sighs. “I love her.”

  I grit my teeth. Marcus could be her fucking dad he’s so old. Probably better suited for her mother. Elise is barely nineteen. A damn kid. And now, she’s carrying his kid. I’ve always thought of myself as a big brother of sorts to the twins. Big brothers can kick their little sister’s boyfriend’s ass, right? What about murder?

  My thoughts drift to Elizabeth.

  They were together. Benny and Elizabeth. Siblings. Sick as fuck.

  God, I have to find her and save her from that monster.

  “While you were napping,” I grit out, changing the subject from his inappropriate love for Elise, “Swanson called. The Stanton’s neighbor, Phil Lawrence, was found in a ditch.”

  Marcus’s eyes widen. “I still can’t believe they didn’t kill us. I take it they did kill Phil Lawrence, though?”

  “Multiple stab wounds in the abdomen hitting every vital organ with precision. It doesn’t seem to be the work of Benny…” I trail off, scrubbing at my scruffy cheeks. I’ve yet to tell him the shit I’m doing on the side to get Elizabeth back. He’s my partner and I should, but I refrain. “Definitely a professional.”

  “Cassian Harris. Too fucking cool and collected. I knew that asshole had a backstory. We got anything on him yet?” he asks.

  Elise stirs, makes a whimper sound, but then calms when he strokes her hair. Okay, so maybe he is good for her. Elise needs a grown up in her life to take care of her. As much as Maryann tried, those girls were doomed the moment their daddy shot his seed into her womb.

  “Nothing. He’s too clean. We can’t find shit on him.”

  “Apart from harboring a wanted felon,” Marcus adds, but he knows as well as I do a man of Harris’s wealth will get a topnotch lawyer to find some loophole bullshit and he will walk. Even the death of the other club owner, Mr. Law. Everything points to Harris, but the evidence is too circumstantial.

  My eyes drift over to Jade. She’s angelic when she sleeps. Thank fuck our son is okay. My heart aches because I haven’t seen MJ since this morning when my mom brought her by. Mom hates the fact that I have two uniforms following her, my niece, Jazzy, and MJ around everywhere, but I can’t take any chances.

  “What about Jessica Johnson? Any new info?”

  Aside from what I already told him—her parents owning a shitload of properties we’re investigating—nothing. “Nope. Have you talked to Josey?”

  “She texted earlier to check in from the safe house we put her in. Apparently Duncan is hitting on her,” he grumbles. “That asshole has no clue. She’s into chicks, not dicks.”

  I smirk. “You sure Duncan has a dick? I mean, has it even been confirmed?”

  We both chuckle, a momentary reprieve from the stress.

  He eventually yawns and Elise wakes up. Their eyes meet, both of them smiling. I can’t even be pissed when they look at each other like that—like how Jade looks at me. Besides, I have bigger fish to fry.

  “You think you can keep an eye on my wife while I run and make a stop? You’re crippled anyway,” I tease as I stand and stretch. I feel like shit and could sleep for a week. Instead, I’ll dope up on more coffee and keep burning at both ends until I have all these psychos locked up and Elizabeth back.

  “I’ve got this.” He pulls his department issued piece from his pocket and holds it up. “Now, whatever it is you think you might have a lead on, go fucking sniff it out.”

  I give him a clipped nod. Am I that transparent to my partner? At least he supports my desire to do whatever it takes to get Elizabeth back. Now that he’s with Elise, I can see how he’d see this as a family matter.

  You take care of family no matter what.

  Empty. Empty. Empty.

  Every time a detective calls to tell me they’ve checked a new property and it’s clean, I die a little inside.

  Where the fuck are they?

  Walking the hospital corridor, the stench of loss and misery cloud around me. Maryann proved what I’d learned from Jade, and that’s that mothers had more strength than anyone I’d ever known.

  How she can still be holding it together and working is beyond me, but she’s been taking care of Kami in an isolated, police-protected part of the hospital. Anything to keep her mind off the disappearance of her daughter.

  Benny did this to Kami, and although Harris had some sway over him, it wasn’t enough for Benny to free her. When he finds out she’s gone, he may come looking for her. That fucker doesn’t leave loose ends.

  Jade was a loose end.

  My heart clenches and I drive that thought away. He’s moved on to other shit. She’s not even on his radar anymore.

  I hope.

  It doesn’t matter, though. I won’t allow him to hurt another woman on my watch. Not Jade. Not Elizabeth. Not Kami. Fuck no. I already feel dirty just by helping him. In reality, though, I’m not helping him, I’m searching for Elizabeth, which I’d be doing anyway.

  Scrubbing my hands down my face, I ignore the churning in my gut telling me I’m hungry. Time is ticking by, and for all we know, and what statistics tell me, the window for finding her alive is closing.

  “Dillon?” Maryann gently asks from behind me.

  “Hey,” I greet. “I just came to see if Kami is ready to talk yet.”

  She nods in confirmation and leads me to her room. “She’s on heavy painkillers, so talk slow and give her time to formulate and convey a reply.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Pushing open the door, I realize the room is large and dark apart from a dim overhead light over Kami’s bed. Tubes run into h
er veins on her arm, feeding her medication. Both feet are in casts and elevated. A cast also stretches from her wrist to elbow, and her face is a myriad of blue and purple bruising. I want to ask how she’s feeling, but it’s a stupid fucking question—one Jade hates being asked.

  “Are you comfortable?” I opt for instead.

  Water builds in her eyes, and she makes a weird snort sound. Her eyes turn to look away from me, but her mouth parts. “I n-never thought he c-could do this t-to me. To us,” she chokes out.

  Who does she mean?

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Her body trembles. “I was betrayed.”

  “By Benjamin Stanton?”

  Her nose crinkles and the tears spill onto her cheeks. “Viktor,” she whispers, her features contorting in pain, as if saying the name physically hurts. Her chest lifts with the force of her grief. “Viktor chose him.” She sounds so broken, nothing like the girl I first saw at The Vault.

  “Who is Viktor?”

  Her eyes ignite at that question, and her brow line collapses. “I need a phone,” she says, determination making her try to sit up in her bed.

  “Don’t move. You’ll only hurt yourself. Here,” I say, offering my cell phone. She snatches it and looks to the door.

  Fine, I can take a hint.

  Moving from the room and closing the door behind me, I stay right outside, pinning my ear to the thin wood separating us to try to hear any of the conversation. When she exhales heavily, I hear her clearly. Maryann joins me out of curiosity, and she too pins her head to the door. There’s silence, then words.

  “Vlad, eto Klara. U Viktora nepriyatnosti. On poteryal svoy razum. Eto ne chelovek, eto monstr. He needs you.”

  “Is that Russian?” I whisper, and Maryann nods.

  The conversation falls quiet. Maryann pulls away first and rushes over to the nurse station. Quickly, she scribbles something down, then hands it to me.

  Vlad, it’s Klara. Viktor is in trouble. He’s lost his will to another. A man, a monster.”

  “I speak Russian,” she announces, and the fact that my mouth parts in shock has her rolling her eyes in a way that reminds me of Elise.