Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Wicked, I want you and Royce together.”
Our eyes collide. “Together?”
Royce steps backward until his back hits the glass wall. “Together?”
“Hold up!” Storm stands from the bed, his hands high. “What the fuck is this? You can’t do this.” My eyes weaken as the room starts to tip sideways. I try to open them wider, desperate to gain clarity, but the colors of the room all mix together. Sweat drips down my forehead and my throat tightens. I reach for it, needing to rip it open to get oxygen in again.
I can’t breathe. I can’t see.
“What was that, Storm? I can’t do what exactly?” K Diamond says, and I fall sideways to the ground, my hand holding my throat as it closes in around me. “Because I can do whatever I want.” Slowly I feel my throat open up, and see the trees above the igloo, gaining clarity again. The skies open up and the sun stares down at me, pelting against my hot skin. “Now, Royce and Wicked? I want to see you both.” I crawl up the wall, pushing off the floor by the palms of my hands and wiping away the sweat that has fallen down the crack of my back.
Royce stumbles closer to me as I lift myself from the ground.
“For the record,” I say, flicking his forehead. “I’m not gay, but my dick is gonna like what it’s gonna like.”
“Ditto.” Royce swipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I can hear K Diamond yap off more commands in the background, but I don’t care. I just want all this bullshit over with so I can get the fuck out. Get out of this hell and get back to Poppy.
“Ah, I see you’re all going to be difficult.” The voice cuts out and my eyes shift to the door. I should know better than to question any of them, but I do anyway. I want to push back against someone who has taken so much from me already—even if he’s not here to take ownership of what he has done.
Four figures emerge from the forest up ahead, and I lean against the door and watch as they get closer and closer. One is holding a bag, the other a long weapon.
“I’m just going to go ahead and say that I probably should have told you earlier… These men are not like the men you are used to. They’re not wired the way most people are.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Storm snaps, turning back to face me. It’s amusing that even though he has been taken and shoved into a weird little fucking cube with a guy who cuts himself to keep track of how many days he has been there isn’t enough for his bratty behavior to simmer the fuck down.
“Well…” I reach for my cigar box, taking out a fat trunk and clipping the end. I roll it between my lips, resting my tongue against the harsh tobacco and watching as they finally reach the door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you all.”
Royce shifts, his shoulders arching back. He’s a fighter. Picked it the second he was put in here, but that doesn’t change shit. What K Diamond wants, he gets, and right now he’s the one holding all the power. I’m all about fighting back, but I’m not a dumb motherfucker. I can see when that just isn’t going to happen.
The door unlocks and the first man in line enters, swirling the whip around his body. He’s wearing a black ski mask and a black jacket and pants. I don’t know who the fuck he is, and I couldn’t give a fuck neither.
“Down!” he yells, and when Strom tries to defy him, the man slashes the whip across his face, smacking him to the ground. “I said… down.” Storm clutches his cheek but slowly lowers himself to the floor in front of him, as Orson follows suit.
I blow out a puff of smoke. “You don’t have to tell me twice…” I grab Royce from around the belt hinges of his jeans, tugging him backward until his ass hits my cock. I know they won’t physically touch me. Skully knows that pain doesn’t affect me the same way it does normal people. It’s hurting the people I care about that leaves marks on my skin. The kind I don’t love to feel. I’ve used pain as a way to feel for as long as I can remember, and when you’re hurting a fucker like me, that is only foreplay.
Royce’s arm twitches, but he slowly removes his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it into the corner. He still hasn’t turned around to face me, probably worried one of his buddies is gonna get whacked. Which they will. Within five seconds of the three of them being in here, I knew this was about Royce and not about the other two. They’re merely collateral damage.