by Ella Miles
“That’s my girl.”
I smile.
“But I win. I punched a boy when I was three?” he asks.
“Truth. I can just see toddler you going around and punching people.” I pause. “I’ve never paid for a drink.”
“Truth, you always stole your drinks.”
“Or had unsuspecting men pay for them.”
We continue on back and forth, saying things we’ve never done or experienced that should have been part of a normal childhood. We laugh and forget about what the next round is most likely going to bring. We don’t formulate a plan of how we are going to beat the game. Or how we are going to take down Milo. We don’t discuss if Enzo has a better plan other than turning over everything to him.
But after a few hours, I can tell Enzo is done with the games.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“How badly I want to fuck you.”
My smile drops. It’s the one thing I want more than anything, but there is a thick wall separating us. There is no way to touch each other.
“Me too.”
“Ever had phone sex, beautiful?”
I blush. “No.”
“Well, that’s what we are doing then. Pretend you are on the phone with me, and we are going to have phone sex.”
“I don’t know how to have phone sex.”
“Easy. You just say dirty things you want to do to me, and then I do them to myself. And I’ll do the same for you.”
“Okay,” I breathe, liking the idea too much. I can already feel myself dripping with the thought of hearing dirty words whispered through a tattered wall.
“Sit down on the floor and spread your legs,” Enzo says.
I lean against the wall, and do as he says. I put my feet flat on the floor and my knees in the air as I let my thighs open.
“You do the same with your back against the wall,” I say.
I close my eyes as I feel Enzo’s presence against our common wall.
“Now picture me in your head. I’m kissing your lips, and my tongue slips into your open, wet mouth,” Enzo says.
I part my lips and touch my finger to them, imagining Enzo’s lips are kissing me. Before this game is all over, I need a real kiss. And the second our lips touch I’m never letting them go again.
“How does it feel?” Enzo asks.
“Your lips feel incredible, but I want more. I want your tongue caressing mine, claiming all of me.”
“It is, my tongue is devouring yours. And it’s causing you to make that throaty moan you do when you get swept away by my kisses.”
I let out my guttural moan, and I can imagine Enzo grinning in response.
“Are you getting hot from my touch, baby?”
“Yes,” I croon.
“Good. I want you to put your hand under your shirt and gently slide up until you are holding one of your perky breasts that I love.”
I do as he says, ignoring the scars on my body as I feel my skin. I gasp when my hand flicks over the nipple.
“You naughty girl, I didn’t say you could touch your nipple yet,” Enzo says.
My eyes are heavy, and I feel him all around me even though he’s not here.
“You make me naughty,” I say.
Enzo growls. “Pinch your nipple and tell me much it turns you on.”
“I am, and it feels so good.”
“Harder.”
I pinch harder, and I think I could come from playing with my nipples alone. I haven’t touched myself since Enzo left with Milo. This release is long overdue.
“Fuck, Enzo, I’m—”
“Come, beautiful.”
His voice sends me over the edge.
Jesus, what’s wrong with me?
I pant heavily after my release, exhausted but needing more.
“Are you ready for more?”
“Yes, but I want you to come with me this time.”
“Oh, I will. Unbutton your pants.”
I do. “Unbutton yours, too.”
“Way ahead of you.”
I imagine Enzo naked, strutting toward me with all of his muscles and scars. But then I remember his shoulders.
“Enzo?”
“Shh, put your fingers under your panties, I’m already gripping my cock, and I want to wait for you.”
I quiet my thoughts and put my fingers beneath my panties.
“How wet are you?”
“Soaked, so ready for your cock.”
“Shit. You are going to make me come with just your mouth.”
I bite my lip. “That’s the plan.”
I feel him suck in a deep breath through the door.
“I want to watch you pleasure yourself, beautiful. Find that swollen pink clit and tell me how you touch yourself.”
I listen carefully to his voice as I move two fingers over my clit. Rubbing in slow lazy circles as I spread my moisture over it.
“God, you're so beautiful,” Enzo says as I touch myself.
“And your cock is so thick, long, and veiny.”
“It’s so ready to sink into you.”
“Then do it already.”
My heart clenches at how badly I need him to actually push into me. I need the connection we share when his body becomes part of mine. But all I get tonight is his voice, and tonight it will be enough.
“Push a finger inside your tight pussy for me,” Enzo says.
I do, and it feels nothing like Enzo inside me.
“Now add another finger.”
I do, but it’s still not enough.
“How does it feel?”
“Nothing compared to you.”
“Add one more finger, baby.”
I do, and it’s as close as I will get to Enzo. I thrust in and out of my pussy while my other hand massages my clit.
“Faster, beautiful.”
I move my fingers faster in and out of my cunt, imagining it’s Enzo’s cock. I thrust faster and faster, matching his speed.
“Yes, baby, just like that.”
“Jesus, Enzo,” I cry feeling my body so close to coming.
“Hold on, wait for me,” he moans back.
I do, I wait. And in that single moment of waiting, I let all of my emotions flood me. The love. The pain. The worry. The fear. The anxiety. The anger.
It all swirls inside my body, filling every space between my bones. Taking root as one emotion—fucking love. The kind of love that is powerful and unrelenting.
Before tonight, I had given up on trying to save Enzo. I had given up on saving the Black empire from falling into the wrong hands, but Enzo restored my love for him with one orgasm.
“Come for me, Kai,” Enzo says, his voice strained. I know he’s about to pour his load out all over the dirty floor.
“Enzo!” I cry.
“Kai!” Enzo growls.
The orgasm lasts forever and not long enough. Because the moment feels like it could sustain me forever, but when it’s over, I can’t live without that feeling again.
We don’t speak, knowing the second we speak ends our fantasy. We will return to reality. To worries and anxieties about what is to come.
So we let the ecstasy last as long as possible. I redress after a few minutes with the scent of Enzo hanging in the air between us.
“How are your shoulders feeling now?” I finally ask, when I know our time is almost up. They must ache like a motherfucker.
“They feel good.”
“Liar.”
“How does your shoulder feel?” he asks about the cut Milo made in my shoulder.
“It feels like a tiny cut not worth addressing.”
“I’m sorry. If I could have chosen anyone else, anyone other than Milo, I would have.”
“I know. I just don’t know how either one of us is going to survive this. I can’t watch you in pain.”
“I can’t either.”
“Fuck, I hate my father so much.”
“Our fathers came up with the most twisted, fucked up games.�
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We both sigh, silently cursing our fathers and families for creating this stupid contest. The challenge was meant to keep the strongest in power. It was meant to ensure that Black never lost the ultimate power we hold. But our families fucked up. The empire is about to fall into the hands of our enemy.
“How about you surrender after this round? Put us both out of our misery,” Enzo says.
“How about you surrender?” I respond.
“Another round of truth or lies to determine who surrenders?” Enzo pleads, thinking it’s his only chance to get me to quit first.
A tear drips down my cheek. Thank God he can’t see me, or he’d see how close I am to cracking and stopping this game now. Because I can’t watch Enzo get hurt.
I shake my head but don’t answer him. He doesn’t prod me to play or speak again. We both just enjoy the silence and hope the other survives longer than we do. Because neither of us wants to be the one who survives and is forced to live without the other.
And if Enzo stays with Milo, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.
I wish this game could be decided with a simple game of truth or lies; it would be so much easier to handle. Even though that game hasn’t always been kind to me, I always faced the truth with Enzo by my side.
Now, I have to decide what is my own truth. Can I watch Enzo be tortured? Can I handle his pain at seeing me be tortured? Can I find a way to save him?
12
Enzo
Listening to Kai come at the sound of my voice was up there with the most erotic nights of my life. The round was meant to be torture, and it was, but not because I was kept in a dark cage all night. It was torture to be so close to Kai and yet not be able to touch her.
There was a time when Kai wouldn’t let me touch her, and I thought that was pain. But now that I love her, not feeling her is like losing a limb. I don’t feel whole without her.
In some ways though, I wish last night had lasted longer. It was torture, but not as much as today will be. Kai was safe as long as we were both locked in our cells. But now I hear the footsteps nearing. Now I know the real suffering is about to begin.
Now is my last moment alone with Kai to tell her whatever she needs to get through today. I can remind her of how strong she is. Tell her how much I’ve missed her, how I would die for her. Even that I love her.
But I can’t say any of those things. I can’t say I love you for the first time through a wall.
And Kai must feel that the time for emotions has long gone, because she doesn’t tell me she loves me either, even though she’s said it before. Instead, she says, “I know. We are ready. Let’s do this.”
Fuck, so strong, even in the light of darkness.
Our doors are opened simultaneously as the light of the hallway pours inside. But neither of blink or adjust to the light. We are both so used to the light finding us in the darkest of places.
“Time for round two. And we have all agreed it is best to continue the rounds down here. Less messy that way,” Archard says, clearing his throat like he is talking about the weather and not about the blood that will soon be pouring from our bodies.
My eyes connect with Kai’s in the light of day as we step out of the cages and for a second, I see the heaviness of the night before returning to warrior mode. She’s not going to make this easy for me to win.
“Let’s start with the cuts before the second round,” Archard says looking at Langston.
He approaches me with the knife low in his hand, knowing the anticipation is worse than the actual cut. He inserts the knife into my other thigh, quickly driving the knife in and out.
I make eye contact with Kai as Milo approaches her and I know it’s a mistake to watch her. I know the pain of the knife is nothing, but I hate myself for letting him touch her.
Milo stares at her, and I see the disgust she feels for the man. He grabs her shoulders roughly, knowing her left shoulder is still hurt from where he pushed the blade in before. He takes his time, bringing the knife gently to her lips.
If he stabs her lips or anywhere in the face, I’m going to kill him. Right here, right now.
But he doesn’t. He trails the blade from her lip, over her chin, and down her neck. Drawing out every motion of the blade until, despite her best effort, there is a tinge of fear in her eyes. Only when he sees it does he drive the knife hard and deep into her other shoulder.
And then she has a gash on each shoulder, matching my bullet wounds.
Kai doesn’t react as Milo steps back.
“What is the next game?” Kai asks, impatient and obviously wanting to get as far away from Milo as possible.
Archard nods and brings up the sheet of paper he’s been reading the rules from. The list is long and covers multiple pages. We are in for a long day.
“Each player is to have one tooth extracted of the tormentor’s choosing using these,” Archard says, holding up what looks like pliers.
I moan, but not because this is going to hurt too badly. Teeth extraction seems pretty low on a list of torture. But I don’t want to put Kai through that pain. And with how twisted Milo is, I wouldn’t put it past him to choose one of her front teeth. While it would probably be less painful because there are fewer roots in the front teeth, she would forever look disfigured.
“Enzo is up first,” Archard says, holding the pliers up to Langston.
Langston takes them and spins them in his hand casually. He looks over at the chair in the corner of the room. “Take a seat.”
I sit down in the chair as Langston approaches.
“Do I need to restrain you?” he asks with a laugh.
“No, but payback is a bitch.”
Langston chuckles and then grabs my jaw, opening it, as he decides which tooth to pull. “You don’t get to retaliate when I’m doing what you ask and keeping Kai safe. And unfortunately, that means extracting as much pain from you as quickly as possible. Because the only way she will surrender and save herself is if she thinks you are in too much pain to handle any more. So you better sell the pain and agony and not act like you are above it.”
“This is for the black eye you gave me in the eighth grade,” Langston says louder so everyone can hear. He puts the pliers into my mouth, reaching all the way to the back to grab a molar, and then he tugs.
I moan loudly as soon as he touches the tooth. I grip the handlebars and stomp my feet like he’s torturing me, but honestly, I can barely feel the pressure in my mouth.
He twists sharply, breaking one of the roots off from my gums. I can hear the loud crunch, but I might as well have anesthesia pumping through my body. That’s how little this hurts.
I glance over at Milo, and I see the glint in his eyes. He injected me with more drugs. Fuck, how did I not notice him inject me again? He must have done it when we were first let out of the cells.
It’s cheating, but if I say anything Kai is dead. And it’s not breaking the rules anyway; there are no rules. There is no such thing as cheating.
I try my best to keep up the act that Langston is torturing me as he continues to break each root free slowly and methodically. And then he finally jerks the tooth free. But all that is left of the pain is the blood oozing in my mouth and the sweat on Langston’s brow. He may have pretended he wanted to torture me, but he hated it.
I glance over at Kai, who is frowning. She’s not buying my pained and tortured act. Her eyes flick up at Langston with a struggling expression on her face as if to say—I thought you were on my side. And torturing the man I love isn’t doing that.
Langston doesn’t apologize, though. He was never one to apologize for doing what he thought was right. And I don’t blame him; he should never apologize for protecting Kai.
“My turn,” Milo says, walking to Langston to grab the pliers.
Milo grabs them before Langston even has time to wipe off the blood. I know it won’t freak Kai out to taste my blood, but it would make me feel better if he did it.
Kai doesn
’t look at Milo or the pliers, and I know where she’s going. I can see her mind shutting me out. Her heart turning colder, locking itself in its cage. I don’t think she will completely shut herself away, at least not to complete this round, but if the rounds keep getting harder, she might eventually shut it all off, shut me out, and then she will be unstoppable. With her feelings shut off, she won’t be able to feel anything, including the torment. She’ll play fearlessly and ruthlessly, no matter what. I will have to stop her if I don’t want her to get seriously hurt.
“Let’s go, bitch,” Milo says, pushing her toward the chair.
I jump up. I’m not going to deal with this. I walk straight to Milo, and I punch him hard in the face. I hear the snap of his jaw and witness blood bust free from his lip.
I wait for the inevitable blow I’m about to receive back, but when Milo gathers himself, he just laughs at my reaction, like he was purposefully goading me on to show Kai how far I’ll go to save her. And that she just needs to give up now.
“You treat her with respect, or I’ll end you and our deal. Do you understand me?”
Milo twirls the pliers in his hand, continuing to laugh. But I see everyone else’s faces in the room—Archard’s, Langston’s, Liesel’s. They all look horrified and in awe of what I just did. And I know it’s not the punch causing them to look like this. It’s the look on my own face. The anger pulsing through my veins has them scared. Because when I get this way, there is no telling what is going to happen next.
Kai doesn’t even register the exchange. She’s gone to her safe place—and that scares me just as much, because as much as my body is pumped filled with narcotics to keep me from feeling any pain, her body has shut off all her nerve receptors. She won’t feel anything either.
“Take a seat,” Milo says to Kai.
She looks at him with a blank expression and starts walking to the chair. She brushes past me, and I let my fingertips brush against hers, hoping the tingling feeling will melt some of the cold walls she put up.
When I touch her, she finally looks at me. But instead of a smile, I get a glare—dark, brooding, and pained.
I reluctantly step out of her way. Liesel comes over to stand next to me; I assume to offer me support as I watch the woman I love be tortured by a madman.