by K. A Knight
I nod and try to reason with him. Reaching across the distance and placing my hand over his on the wheel, I implore, “I know, but after, you can kill him after. We need him alive for now, he is our only link.”
I can see him struggling through my logic, his need to protect me, to kill Jamie, outweighing his own at the moment.
“I promise you, you can kill him, but not tonight. Let’s go home and you can kiss my wounds better,” I offer silkily, smiling at him.
He turns, his movements jerky as he pulls out of the space and back into traffic, heading home. Only then do I let out the breath I was holding.
“He dies,” he tells me, his voice low and dangerous.
“He dies, but girls are getting hurt far worse than this, we owe it to them to figure out how he fits in and use him.”
He looks at me. “They aren’t mine, you are.” He says it so calmly, so carelessly, claiming me like that.
The ride home is quiet, his movements still tense and jerky like he can’t control the anger. We sit outside the house for a moment until I get out and he follows—it’s like being stalked. My hair raises on the back of my neck and my heart thumps in fear, even though I should never fear him.
I stopped him from killing Jamie, I stopped the Spider mid-hunt and I know I am going to have to take the brunt of it now. He isn’t himself, not the Keanu who holds me and kisses me goodnight.
This is the killer, the darkness that hides within, and I took his prey away...becoming it instead.
Once I’m inside, I stop in the hallway, feeling him behind me even though he doesn’t touch me. His voice comes then, like a hushed whisper on the air. “Upstairs,” is all he says, making me shiver in need and fear as I do as I’m told.
I’ve handled his darkness before when I pushed him, but this is more. This is...angrier, hateful almost, like he can’t cut it off, can’t distinguish between his victims.
Not looking back, I head upstairs, and I can feel him prowling behind me, watching me as I head down the hallway to the bedroom and then stand there, my back to the door as I feel him step inside, and then I hear the click of the door shutting.
I shiver, unable to help my body’s reaction to him, even now. My panties are damp, my pulse thundering, my body attuned to his every movement. He ghosts his hands down my arms, barely touching me, but raising goosebumps in his wake. My mouth goes dry, his name on my lips as he steps closer and whispers into my ear.
“Tell me to leave and then lock the door when I’m gone,” he orders, even as his hands grip mine and twine our fingers together. “I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t.”
He’s giving me an out. The fact he wants me to lock the door is what makes up my mind. He’s always trying to protect me, even from himself. “No,” I say loudly, my voice husky.
He steps back, his hands dragging away, and I swallow as he circles to see my face. He stops before me, barely touching me, his eyes dark and cold. He’s so perfect I want to weep. So cold and untouchable, but all mine. I might get cut on his edges, but it will be worth it. He can cut me to my very core and I would still fall to my knees and ask for more.
His hand lashes out, but I don’t flinch away as he grips my chin, hard, bruisingly, making me gasp as he keeps me there with one touch. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he whispers, before stepping back. “On your knees on the bed.”
Licking my lips, I stare at him and he snarls, “Now!”
I scramble to do as I’m told, leaping onto the bed and crawling to the middle, waiting there on my knees for him. I hear Keanu moving around the room, but daren’t look. When I hear the clank of something, I shiver again. What is he going to do?
He steps to the head of the bed and turns his back to me so I can’t see what he’s doing until he moves away. Are those handcuffs? No, it’s a rope with a binding at the end. He attached them to the top of the bed. I feel the bed dip as he gets on it behind me.
He grabs my shoulders and tosses me around until I’m facing him, my head pressed to the bottom of the pillows where not long ago, he was holding me like I was precious. He grips my hands and shoves them down to the bed before grabbing the hand bindings and wrapping them around my wrists. Even in this state, he is careful with my hurting wrist, dropping a kiss there and not tying it as tight as the other.
He might think he’s a monster, and maybe he is to everyone else, but to me he’s perfect.
He traces down my arms, ending above my heaving chest as he stares at me, his knees on either side of my hips. “Keanu,” I whisper desperately, but he backs away, sliding from the bed until he’s standing at the end and gazing down at me. Tugging the bindings to test them, I hiss when they tighten and lift my head to see him.
“No,” he tells me, his eyes warring.
I can feel him battling his inner demons, trying to stop himself before he goes too far, before he hurts me. But he should know better by now. I love every version of this man.
Every dark, depraved corner and whatever he throws at me, I will take it. The pain, the pleasure, the fear. I will consume it and make it mine. His hands grip me so meanly, digging in, cutting my skin as he wraps me in his web.
I want it.
I’m wet for it, for him, even now.
Even as fear runs through me, it’s like a high I’ve never experienced before. I want all his hate, all his anger, and yes, fear...because this is what it all stems from. Fear for me. Groaning like the dirty girl he calls me all the time, I arch up, my nipples rock-hard like diamonds, begging for his scalding touch.
I’m his vessel, to fill with whatever he wants. I’ll take all his pain and make it mine if he will let me.
Dark. Sexy. Mine.
Those eyes lock on me, even as his hands circle my ankles, pinning them down roughly. I almost beg, but daren’t break the silence. He goes still, almost like a machine, just staring at me. Suddenly, he moves, shattering that silence with a feral groan.
He yanks me down the bed until my arms are stretched above me, almost hurting, my legs dangling from the end of the bed. He rips up my skirt and sinks into me in one thrust, making me scream in both pain and pleasure. I wrap my ankles around him, dragging him closer as the bindings tug at my hands, reminding me how trapped I am.
“Yes!” I yell as he fucks me with deep, powerful thrusts.
He fills me so completely, stretching me around his thick cock. No mercy, no escape, he forces me to take it all, his dirty little girl.
I can feel the anger and hate consuming him, a thread between us as he fucks me with it, I want to stay like this, wrapped up in him. It’s filthy, naughty, and so fierce...that look on his face, I can’t drag my eyes from it.
His once calm expression is twisted into a snarl as he drags my legs higher on his back and drives into me in hard, punishing thrusts. Giving me everything. “You’re so wet,” he groans.
“Yes, all for you, always for you,” I cry out, my head tilting back as I lift my hips to match his tempo, his fingers cutting into my skin, the pleasure almost melting me. It’s too much. With each drag of his cock, he hits that spot inside me that has me chanting his name, loving this dirty fucking.
He leans down and bites my nipple through the top, making me scream as I clamp around him. He lets go and looks up at me, lips thin and strained, there’s no rhythm or rhyme to him.
He’s feral, keeping me prisoner as he hate fucks me. Leaning up, I give as good as I get, I dig my teeth into his shoulder through his shirt, making him growl and jerk forward, smashing into me so hard I groan in pain before it fades to pleasure. Biting harder, unable to touch him with anything else, I force him higher, farther, until the bed is banging with each brutal thrust.
I can feel the rope cutting into my wrist, but I don’t care. Fuck, he could rip me to shreds right now and I would die with a smile on my face and his cock buried so deep inside me, I will never crave another.
“You are mine, Brat,” he growls, wrenching backwards, pulling away from my teeth
, and I see the blood seeping through even as I taste the copper tang of it in my mouth. He groans and smashes his lips to mine, our teeth clashing as he tastes his own essence on my tongue, which only seems to drive him wilder. He bites down on my lip and eats at my mouth until I taste my own blood from the rough treatment.
Dragging my lips away, I turn my head, panting into the sheets as he rams into me, and I’m thrown over the edge, dragged kicking and screaming into such a powerful orgasm, I feel my legs spasm.
He yells, thrusting twice more before I feel his warm cum splashing inside me, filling me up until it drips between us, mixing with my cream. My eyes are closed, my body limp on the mattress. I hear him breathing heavily, his hands still on my hips, his cock still inside me. When he withdraws, I blink them open and turn my head to see him.
He looks resigned now...and tired...maybe even scared. He doesn’t meet my eyes as he reaches up, unbinds my wrists, and rubs them better. They tingle as the blood rushes to them, but I ignore that and cup his cheeks, smiling up at him. “You have blood on your lips,” I murmur, and he flashes me a rare grin.
“As do you, Brat.” He rolls them into his mouth, his eyes on me, searching mine for...regret? He won’t find anything, nor will he find pain.
“That was fucking hot,” I purr anyway, and he sighs, relaxing as I reach down and pull his shirt aside to see the bloody teeth mark on his shoulder. “Fair to say I hurt you more than you hurt me.” I laugh.
He glances down, the grin stretching across his face and lighting up his eyes. “A war wound, I like it.”
My pussy will be sore tomorrow, that’s for sure. He leans down and kisses me softly before collapsing next to me on the bed. I turn onto my side to see him, pillowing my hands under my head as he watches me right back.
My mind is racing, and I know he isn’t going to like it. But I have an idea, one that just might help us finish this mission once and for all. His eyes narrow like he can tell I’m going to say something he won’t like.
“I think I should go back, I think I should let them take me.”
Chapter Thirty
Keanu
She wore me down, it only took her five hours. I agree to her plan, but with conditions. I make her keep on the bracelet, but I don’t know if they will take it, so I also wire a GPS tracking chip into an earring and a fake nipple ring, so that if and when she is taken, I can still find her. She won’t get away from me that easily. Next, I sit her down and talk through what will happen with her. I even ask if she will let me embed a tracking chip, but she draws the line at that.
She sobers up from her excitement and agrees. I can see she knows how dangerous this is, but she wants to do it anyway. Got to admit, seeing how brave my girl is makes me all kinds of hard, but instead I hold her that night. I don’t know when I will get to next, so I hold her tight and watch her as she sleeps, knowing tomorrow she will be taken from me.
When morning hits, our little bubble bursts, and I know she feels it. She moves closer, not sleeping much herself as I take one last moment to watch her. Nadia’s eyes flick up to meet mine and stay there as I trace her face. Before I beg her to reconsider, I bend my head and kiss her. Deeply, hard, with everything I can’t say before pulling away and slipping from the bed.
She watches me go. I wash and dress quickly and as she’s showering, I make her breakfast and then leave her a note. I don’t want to be late today. She has a plan for tonight, I have one for today. To put it into place, to protect her, always.
Once I’m out the door, I drive straight to the warehouse and park there and dial the number I received a text from. He wanted me to spy for him, so I’m going to use that for my own benefit. He picks up after one ring.
“Mr. Hilton, what do I owe the pleasure?” Even at this time, he sounds bright and put together.
“You asked me to spy for you,” I say unnecessarily, and I hear him suck in a breath.
“Have you found something?” he asks excitedly, and that alone tells me he’s worried about his team, and all the carnage Nadia and I have been wreaking on his business.
“I think so. I need to do further examinations though, and for that I’m going to need your permission. I wish to stay here for the next week or so, watching the changing of shifts and some of the persons of interest without raising suspicions. I suggest you put me in as a live-in handler.”
I wait impatiently, my whole plan hinges on this. I’m not leaving her, not here, not alone. How could I get into our bed knowing she was in a cell, maybe being hurt? No, I won’t be leaving her side the entire time. It’s not that I don’t trust her. I want to protect her where I can. If I didn’t think she would be able to gain valuable insight, then I wouldn’t have even agreed to this in the first place.
“Done, I will let the team know. Do what you have to. I want results,” he snaps, and then he disconnects.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I pocket my phone and head inside, ready to take up guard duty again on the prisoners.
Around midday, the call goes out that I’m a new, permanent handler and will be staying from tonight onwards in this place. They clear me a bunk upstairs on the catwalk, which I don’t really intend on sleeping in. The rest of the day is uneventful. Some of the women must have sold yesterday, including the one who watched me. There is only one cell full now and they all cringe and scream when I enter. I escort them to the toilets and back to their cell, standing guard. An hour later, their meal is delivered.
At six o’clock, I inform the commander of the new plan for me, which turns out to be the man who was watching me on guard duty. I guess he wanted to keep a close eye on the new recruit. Today, I learned his name is Razor—I know, cliché. I inform him I’m going to pack up my stuff and will be back later tonight. He just nods at me.
I slip into my car and fire it up, heading back home and to Nadia who, at this time, should be getting ready to get kidnapped. Never thought I would say that.
Watching her from the doorway, I debate if I’m going to let her out of this room or not. She looks beautiful, she always does. But standing here, hair unbound and still wet, her face fresh and makeup free in nothing but one of my shirts, all I can do is gawk at her as she leans towards the mirror. Stepping up behind her, I wrap my arms around her middle and she sighs in happiness, leaning back into me and watching me in the reflection.
“It’s going to be okay, Spidey,” she soothes softly. Of course she knew what was bothering me. She always does, she has a way of seeing through me straight to the problem. “I know, no matter what happens, we are doing this to save people. Never forget that, plus I have no doubt you have something up your sleeve to keep me safe,” she teases, and I snort as I kiss her shoulder. She sobers up then. “Keanu, I need you to promise me something.”
Turning in my arms, she places her hands on my chest and watches me seriously. “If something happens to me, if I don’t make it out or back or whatever—” I go to growl, but she covers my mouth. “I said if, if it does. If the worst happens, I need you to look after Scarlett and Max for me. They are all I have left, losing me will kill her. Please, whatever you do...look after her.”
“What about me?” I mumble against her hand, so she pulls it away. “What if losing you will kill me?”
“Then you will have to make sure you don’t lose me,” she whispers.
Swallowing hard, I lean down until our foreheads touch. There is so much I want to say…but I don’t have the words. This woman makes me speechless with her bravery, caring, beauty, and kindness. She takes my breath away, yet I can’t tell her. “I know, Spidey, I know.” She nods and closes her eyes. “But I wouldn’t be the woman I am if I didn’t do this, nor would you be the man I love if you didn’t let me. We were never going to be the stay safe type of people, it’s not in our blood. But I want you to know...Keanu Grey, you are my biggest adventure yet. One I never want to escape from.” She leans in and seals her lips to mine, kissing me ever so gently, like I’m breakable...
; And maybe I am.
Maybe this will be what breaks me.
As she pulls from my arms and walks away, I watch her go, and where the heat once was, all there is now is cold. How do you watch someone you care about put themselves in harm’s way? But that’s the thing, isn’t it? If you care for them, you have to support them no matter what.
No matter the cost to you.
Unable to watch her anymore, I head downstairs to wait, pouring myself a healthy glass of whisky and knocking it back to quench my nerves. Never have I been so scared, not when facing down bullets, bombs, wars...never. I’ve ran into a warzone and felt nothing, I’ve assassinated presidents, queens, and yet now...here, with this woman, I’m terrified.
The next twenty minutes are the hardest of my life, my fingers digging into the perfection of the marble counter I had made. I stare around the room, wanting to rage. I want to break things, I want it to be a mess. To match how I’m feeling inside, but I can’t. She can’t see me like that, right now she needs my strength. She needs to know that I will always be there, always trying to protect her. That I’m not scared, that I’m in control.
When she comes down the stairs, I can’t even look at her. I rebuild myself before I do, icing everything out. It’s the only way I can survive watching her being hurt, being touched and taken. I turn cold, going to that dark place inside me that lets me do anything without feeling, and when she stops at the kitchen doorway, I look up at her, knowing my face is blank and hard.
She doesn’t flinch, she takes it in with a knowing smile. “Let’s go, Spidey, time waits for no woman.” She winks then turns and leaves.
Placing the glass carefully in the sink, I grab a go bag and head to the car where she’s waiting. “You have all the GPSs?” I ask, and she nods as I take in her outfit. She’s in trousers tonight, smart leather ones which are tight to her skin. They will be harder to get off, as well as help conceal anything and keep her warm. Her shirt is loose and glittery, low cut and crossed at the back to stay up.