"This started long before me. Redwood is just an extension of Riverview. That gas station has no cameras; it's placed where it is for a reason." The meaning of his words wasn't lost on me. Route 18 was the real-life version of the highway to Hell.
"I hate that I fell in love with you." Looking away from him, I felt my rationale falling to pieces, silent tears coming down with it.
"I know, and I love you more than I'd like to admit. But here we are, and not even death could take you away from me."
He reached over and took hold of my left hand, clasping it firmly within his.
The Chateau seemed bigger than I remembered. Julian came around and opened my door, reaching down to help me out of the car.
"What about the girl?" I gestured to the trunk.
He disregarded my question until after he lifted me into his arms and started walking towards the front door.
"Someone else can get her; you're barely standing on your feet." Resting my head on his shoulder, I didn't fight him, he was right. Exhaustion seemed to swarm me in waves when it set in lately.
I knew this was far from over. He wouldn't let my escape go so easily. Not to mention I still had our baby to think about, and a million questions that hadn't been answered. Who was Lacy Tidwell, and where did she fit into all of this? Dakota...Kieran...everything was a mess.
Julian carried me upstairs to our room. I was almost asleep the second my head hit the pillow and he'd pulled my dress off my body.
"Why didn't you tell me about my dad?" The question came out small and groggily, but he heard me. He turned off the bedside lamp, shrouding us in darkness. When the silence stretched on, I thought he was just choosing not to answer me.
"Phillip is an issue we will discuss after you're more clear-headed. I have some things to take care of. I'll be in later. Get some sleep. You're going to need it; we have a special dinner tomorrow," he murmured in my ear, placing a lingering kiss on my lips before leaving the room.
Without any further explanation I knew this dinner was a direct result of me leaving him. It was a consequence for my actions. The only thing left to ponder was who else was going to be hurt because of me.
I had to find a way out of this situation; I loved him too much to let him go. His darkness called to me and made me feel at home. He’d become the crutch I didn’t know I needed. But if he found out about our baby, I feared I'd never see the light of day again. I had to make a solid decision for once, and I had to make it fast.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I woke just as he finished tying my left hand down with a thick rope.
The room was still dark, but through a gap in the drapes, I saw the blue tinted sky of a rising sun.
"Julian?" My voice was sleep-laden; I tugged at the restraints around my wrists, only to feel that my ankles were in the same predicament.
Naked and crucified on his bed, he stood above me, staring at me with an inexpressive look on his face.
"Did you think I would just get over the fact you decided to leave me? Make a potential fool out of me to the rest of the town?" He skated his fingers across my foot before reaching down and lifting the tail end of a rope.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear your response." He pulled the rope.
"I'm sorry," I breathed, trying to ignore the burn in my ankles.
"Not yet, you aren't." He let go of the tail, moving to the nightstand. It was the first time I noticed the lit candle and the wicked bayonet beside it.
My throat swelled in fear, my heart colliding with the cavity in my chest.
He held the flame to the wicked, pointed blade, heating it. When he set the candle down, his attention went to my left leg.
"Do you see what you did?" He fingered my burned skin, a look of disdain flashing across his face. "This body belongs to me. Every surface. Every fuckable hole you have is mine. If you hadn't run away, this wouldn't be here. Would it?"
"No," I looked down at myself, ashamed.
"Good, then you understand." I didn't understand, and I wanted to ask him what he meant, but he gripped my thigh, leaned over it, and began to push the hot blade into my skin.
My brain didn't register the pain until he curved the handle and made a shape.
"What are you doing?" I made the mistake of pulling on the restraints. Caught off guard by the twine tightening even further, I cried out in pain.
Blood seeped from the cuts he was making on my skin, making a mess of the silken sheets. He continued to dig the blade in, swirling it this way and that, reveling in my pain. The screams and whimpers leaving my mouth were something between agony and bliss.
Seemingly done with my left thigh, he immediately moved to the right. I shut my eyes and focused on trying to breathe. They remained closed when he moved away, flying open when an unbearable heat was pressed against my open flesh.
"Julian, stop!" My voice broke. Tears poured from my eyes, obscuring my vision.
"Keep screaming; you're making my cock incredibly hard." He moved the candle to my other leg, holding the flame against my bloodied skin. The smell of burnt blood and flesh permeated in the air.
Not having gone far enough, he tilted the wick, letting the wax drip onto my wound.
I hissed sharply, clenching my restraints and fighting my body's natural reaction to flinch.
He finally stood at the end of the bed, admiring his handiwork. I stared up at the flat ceiling, trying to plug my tears. The candle was sat back on the nightstand, flame extinguished.
A soft rustling sound filled the air as his clothing whispered to the floor. The bayonet that had cut into me was used to free my ankles and wrists. I lay in the same position, muscles aching and blistered skin in agony. Julian climbed over me, nestling between my spread legs.
"Your cunt is dripping wet," he whispered in my ear, pushing two fingers inside me. He moved across my face to kiss away my tears before gently kissing my lips, the taste of salt lingering.
I allowed him to kiss me; the invisible leather collar he had around my neck didn't need to be tugged for my compliance. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and my body would always be responsive. My heart would always let him in.
Call me stupid, foolish, naïve…none of it mattered.
He fed a part of me I was no longer strong enough to delude myself into thinking I could go without. I'd tried to harden myself against him, to stand strong in my resolve to keep his viciousness away from my heart. It was too late; he breached my fragile perimeters and infiltrated my system.
My mouth parted for him; my arms held him. I was sick with myself for not shoving away from him. His solid body melted against mine, his thick cock replacing his fingers inside my soaked pussy.
"Do you feel how hard you made me?" He thrust forward slowly and kissed me again before taking my legs and bending them so they touched my chest. I groaned from the added pain.
He flexed his hips gradually increasing his speed until his cock was pounding into me, showing no leniency. His hands remained on my legs, keeping them pressed nearly against my breasts. The louder I moaned and called out for him, the harder he drilled into me.
I jarred beneath him, digging my nails into his golden skin as he brought me to a precipice and shoved me over the edge, shattering me apart, causing incoherent words to spill from my mouth. My body quivered, tremors coursing through me. He found his release without making a sound.
We stayed locked together for a few silent moments, an odd sense of temporary peace settling in my mind. When he pulled his flaccid cock from me, semen leaked out.
He wordlessly dipped his fingers into it before bringing them to my thigh. I watched as he swirled his come with remnants of my blood, tracing his fingertips along my skin. I could finally see what he had done.
His name was permanently engraved into each of my thighs.
Chapter Forty
I was on autopilot, going through the motions.
Julian fucked me again in the shower, making me wrap my legs around him and guiding me u
p and down on his cock. His hands seemed to be on me every time I turned around.
He put some sort of ointment on my skin, tending to my old cuts and my permanent new tattoo. The dinner was mentioned again and, a few softly spoken words later, he was kissing me to say he would see me then.
That successfully detonated my mind’s steady stream of smooth sailing, crushing my small sense of peace. What was going to happen at this dinner? The possibilities were endless. This was Julian, after all.
Dressing in the emerald evening gown he laid out for me, I stared at my reflection. I appeared to be a healthy young woman; nothing would give away what really occurred in my life.
My hair hung down, now clean and back to its healthier state of shine. My makeup was barren, aside from a soft dab of lip-gloss.
The gown hugged every natural curve I had and gave an added lift to my breasts. If there was ever an outfit to unmask a hidden bulge, it was a tight dress. Pressing a palm to my stomach, I was grateful no one could tell my secret. I couldn't be that far along; I estimated maybe three months.
Lathering vanilla lotion into my skin was my last added effort before leaving the lavish bedroom. I wandered the halls, bare feet padding over the cool marble floor. The smell of pot roast, vegetables, and something chocolate wafted through the air.
A few soft voices reached my ears as I stepped downstairs. Following them, I found myself in the kitchen. Two heads turned to look at me. Julian’s mother Helga, and Belle. Neither of whom I wanted to see.
"Morgana, it's so good to have you home," Helga gushed, rushing over and throwing her arms around me.
"Don't ever do something so goddamn stupid again," she whispered in my ear. Her eyes, hauntingly like her son's, glared at me when she stepped away.
Belle smiled, but there was nothing genuine about it. This is what my life had come to: watching people be murdered, sadistic sex, and backstabbing territorial bitches. I may have been weak regarding Julian, but I was never going to let someone walk all over me.
After all the shit Julian had put me through, that sick fuck was just as much mine as I was his. And I could tell by Belle’s body language, she wasn’t pleased by it. I didn't care she was gorgeous; a million women on the entire planet were gorgeous. Julian still chose to be with me.
Bypassing each of them, I headed for the adjoining room. The moment I stepped foot into it, I wanted to turn around. No, I wanted to save my friends and run to the furthest ends of the earth. The woman from the trunk, the man who had given me the Honda, Tony, and Allison sat with their wrists fastened to the arms of the dining chairs.
None of them were lucid, their heads all lolling around on their shoulders. If my ears weren't deceiving me, Tony was laughing under his breath.
My eyes fell on a table that was like those in the Red Rooms, lined with silver platters, all covered by lids. Julian's family sat looking at me expectantly, Kieran among them, looking one hundred percent healthy.
"What is this?"
"This...is dinner." Julian swept into the room, making a dramatic entrance.
"Why are they here? What have you done?" I knew he would reprimand me. I knew he was angrier than he was letting on, but I'd never have guessed he would go this far. He wasn't supposed to kidnap the only real friends I had and drug them. Based off their appearances, he'd had them for quite some time.
He began to move towards me, taking his time. "Do you notice anyone missing?" I looked around the table again; each set of eyes was like a brick laid upon my chest. I looked to the floor, counting in my head.
"Freak," Belle muttered, loud enough for me to hear as she walked past me. Not a second later she released a yelp of pain. I glanced up, seeing Porter had stood from his seat and had a hand tightly knotted in her hair.
"Apologize," Julian hissed at her, coming to take my hand.
"Why do I have to—"
"Apologize, or I'll let him slit your throat."
She audibly swallowed before mumbling an apology. Porter shoved the back of her head, flashing me a boyish smile before reclaiming his seat.
"Remember what I told you?" Julian stood in front of me, blocking their views.
"No one else matters but you and me." He tilted my chin up to look at him. I tried to shake my head, but he wouldn't let me.
"Tell me who's missing."
"B... Bailey," I whispered, hoping he wasn’t going to disclose what he had done to her. I didn't want to know. The visual my mind conjured was enough.
"Why not just let me go?" I wrapped my hand around his, pretending no one else was in the room, indubitably aware that their eyes were still on us.
"Because I'm your husband, I made a promise."
“A promise to God?” I couldn’t help but scoff.
“No, beautiful. A promise to you. Therefore, this all had to happen. You reject every truth I give you." He dropped his hand and wrapped an arm around my waist. "No more weak links. No more leverage. Let’s start over with no one between us.”
My head moved from side to side. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple. You're going to sit down at the table and tell me which one of our guests gets to die first."
His words thrust me further into a place where my mind scrambled to find the realism in what was going on around me. He wanted me to choose who would live and who would die?
"I...I can't do it," I choked on my words, pleading with my eyes for him to understand.
"If you can't decide, Dollface, I will do it for you."
Chapter Forty-One
Unfettered tears streamed down my face.
His mouth was a never-ending waterfall of blood, running down his chin, coating his naked chest. Everyone around me continued to eat as if this were normal.
Tony was eating shards of glass like they were a gourmet meal. He was high out of his mind from whatever lethal drug cocktail Julian had given him. I'd been confined to my chair after trying to stop him multiple times.
Allison, who had become lucid during the turn of events, started screaming the minute she realized what was happening. Or, screaming as best she could. Her jaw was wired shut. Apparently, someone had 'accidentally' broken it when she was first taken.
It was a horror movie being played out before my eyes, and my friends had the starring roles. Except, there weren't any props, and the large camera filming their painful demise was streaming to a live audience somewhere in the house.
My voice was brittle and broken after begging and crying for Julian to make him stop. Choking sounds had my half heart twisting in my chest, watching as Tony expelled blood across the table, causing Belle and Porter to fly out of their chairs.
He heaved, retching and convulsing in his seat. The one hand he had free began digging in his mouth, as if he could pull out whatever was choking him. His wild brown eyes met mine, abnormally large irises intensifying his terrified gaze.
The small grasp I had on my mental state fell away. This was all my fault, for continuously choosing a man who defied all human morality. Who had no regard for anyone outside of his family—the one I was now forever tied to.
I deserved a fate worse than Hell, and this had to be it. After a few desperate breaths, Tony slumped, his body going still, blood still drizzling into his bowl of shards.
The last time we'd spoken, he had been trying to warn me of who Julian was, warning me from the very beginning to stay away.
"Make it quick," Julian spoke, sounding a million miles away. His hands began to undo the restraints he'd put me in.
"You're all insane." My gravelly voice was clear, despite the sobs wracking my body. Julian's parents both looked over at me.
Porter pulled a capped needle from his pocket and approached Allison. I knew whatever was in it was meant to kill her. Part of me knew that this was the most merciful way for her to go; rather than being tortured, she would die almost peacefully. The other part couldn't handle her dying because of me.
"Stay away from her!" Shoving to my feet, now t
hat my own restraints were gone, I grabbed my dinner bowl and launched it across the table. Italian soup flew everywhere, the bowl connecting with Porter's forehead.
"What the fuck?" he yelled at me, grabbing his head.
"Leave her alone!" Before I could move towards him, Julian was bear-hugging me from behind. It triggered a reaction I couldn't recall or explain.
Words were falling from my mouth incoherently; I clawed and kicked at him to let me go. My heart was seconds away from bursting through my chest.
"Morgana!" his voice boomed, a split second before a sharp pain exploded in the back of my head.
Chapter Forty-Two
I think I may have gone a bit too far.
It was a small error, really. I should have waited to eliminate her friends. Or, perhaps I could have gone about it a little differently.
If I had simply told her Tony was dead, she would have been sad and reverted to her usual self in two days’ time, not wilt away and be force-fed for two weeks like a motherless calf.
I'd done the most drastic thing I could think of and moved her to the guest house at the edge of the property. I hired a fucking caretaker slash therapist that I knew would keep her mouth shut.
I hadn't seen my wife in a month, but according to my daily updates, she was back to her old self. Mouthy, stubborn, and a little bit off the walls. She also refused to see me until I gave her all the answers her heart desired.
It was amusing how she thought she had a choice.
I'd give her just enough to sate what she was foaming at the mouth for. Then, I'd fuck her until my dick was chafed and my balls were milked dry.
There was no one to stand between us. They were all gone now. Tony and Allison had been burned together in the old incinerator. The woman Porter had stashed in my trunk was being used for the streaming tomorrow night.
Luca walked into my office unannounced and took a seat across from my desk.
"Anything new?" He spun his wedding ring around, crossing one leg over the other.
"I'm going to tell her whatever she wants to know. I'll just tweak some things to my liking." It was still the truth, right?
Malice (Dahlia Saga Book 1) Page 14
