A Hurt So Sweet: Complete Dark Bully Romance Series Box Set: Elite of Eden Falls Prep

by Isabella Starling

  "Maybe if you weren't such a dumb bitch, the doctor would still be here," she snarls. "But you made me do this. You made me kill him. It's all your. Fucking. Fault!"

  "Please, Lily Anna." Panic floods me. I'm wet and sticky with my own sweat and blood and I've never been more scared in my life. Not just for my own life, but the baby's too. "Please, I'm begging you, get me the help I need."

  "Shut up," she hisses. "Keep pushing."

  She positions herself in front of my spread legs. Her eyes widen when she sees the state of me, but she doesn't address it. Instead, she just waits while I do the pushing.

  I don't know how long it all lasts. I'm too disoriented, too exhausted, in too much pain to pay attention to anything but the contractions twisting my body and making me double over. And then I hear it, through the thick fog that has descended in front of my eyes. A baby crying.

  "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."

  I look up. My lashes are heavy, tears are dripping down my face, and I'm feeling lightheaded. I see her then, Lily Anna, holding up a baby boy. He's a boy—definitely a boy—and he's beautiful. Perfect.

  Turns out, I don't need that paternity test at all. The moment the baby enters the world, I know who his father is.

  "Reign," I whisper. "My baby Reign."

  I'd chosen the name weeks ago, but had kept it a secret from Lily Anna until now. I didn't want her prying or trying to make my decisions for me. I didn't want her trying to dissuade me from using the name. And now she turns to face me. Her motherly expression of love shifts instantly into cool rage.

  "That's not his name," she hisses. "You don't get to name him."

  "He's my son," I rasp, but she pays me no mind. I watch her cut the umbilical cord and wipe the baby gently. He's quiet now. Almost too quiet. He only cried once or twice. "Give him to me, Lily Anna. Give me my son."

  "He's not yours." She begins dressing him up and I stare at them, feeling frozen. "But here's the deal, Pandora. I'm going to play a little game with you, a game of chance. You like those?"

  I can't even answer. My mouth feels thick, and so does my head. I can barely whimper.

  "See, my plan was this..." Lily Anna comes up close to me and smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I was going to kill you. Then go back with the baby and tell everyone it was mine. Lai was the father, of course. He forced himself on me, so I had to kill him. I escaped then, soon discovering I was pregnant. And then I gave birth early to my son. Little Dexter Junior."

  "You're s-sick," I manage to get out through gritted teeth. She shrugs, smiling.

  "I had to do what I had to do to get Dex back. He's not yours, Pandora. He never was." She covers me with a blanket and I watch blood bloom on the light pink fabric. "I slipped something in your drink tonight. You didn't even notice, did you?"

  I stare at her, feeling more and more frozen.

  "You had no idea," she grins triumphantly. "So stupid, P. Anyway. You seem to have reacted badly to the meds. You're bleeding like, a lot. Sad face."

  She pouts while I cry out for help. But my voice is broken, gone. No one's going to hear me here.

  "So I'm going to bid you adieu now, my darling," she smirks. "I'll take Dex Jr. with me. You try to live, won't you? But I'm pretty sure you won't. I'll tell Dexter you send your regards either way."

  She blows me a kiss and picks herself up from the floor. I watch in horror as she loads up the baby into a car seat and disappears from the house. My eyelids grow heavier and heavier and I struggle focusing on anything. My conscience is slowly drifting away. A lone tear slides down my right cheek before the darkness takes me home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pandora

  I know it's a dream, but that isn't helping. It only means there are no limitations this time, no consequences for their actions.

  I'm tied down to a chair in the middle of an empty room. A lightbulb swings above me, casting shadows around the room. The boys surround me. Even though they're all wearing masks, I recognize them by their movements, the way they stand. They're all dressed in suits, and they're all wearing the same white mask that covers their eyes. They approach me.

  "You've been a bad little toy, haven't you, Pandora?" one of them speaks up. I could try to figure out who's who, but I'm too tired. I close my eyes and lean my head back on the chair. There's something on the tip of my tongue, something at the back of my mind. Something so desperately important. But I can't grip the thought. It keeps slipping through my fingers. So I just give in, go with the flow. I play pretend.

  "Yes, Sir," I whisper in my dream. "Are you going to punish me?"

  "Of course, my little toy. What else are you here for?" A riding crop hits my inner thigh and I yelp in pain. I stare down at my leg where a red mark is already blooming. "I'm going to hit you as many times as it takes you to admit it."

  "Admit what?" I cry out when the crop hits me again and again. The others join in now, hitting, pinching, tugging on my hair and fraying my nerves. "Admit what? Please, tell me what you want me to admit!"

  Nobody gives me an answer until I hear the first whisper in my ear. By the time I turn to face the voice, he's long gone, but the whisper is still there. In the back of my mind. On the tip of my tongue.

  You know what you did.

  It doesn't stop. Unrelentingly, it gnaws at my conscience reminding me time and time again what it means, what I am.

  What I'm supposed to do.

  I cry out. The tears don't fall because I won't let them. But I keep my eyes open. I want them all to see what they're doing. Unfortunately for me, it only takes a few excruciatingly painful minutes for my desperate pleas for mercy to turn into moans for more. They knew this was coming, and they start laughing at me, ridiculing me, making fun of me. I bet they're loving this. Loving hurting me.

  And I am, too.

  I feel the first orgasm building. I don't know what's real anymore, but I cling on to the feeling of it. The butterflies in my stomach. The wetness between my legs. I let pure euphoria take over, but the moment I'm at the crest, it stops.

  "You don't deserve it," Dex's ghostly voice whispers in my ear. "Not until you admit it."

  "Admit what?" I whisper brokenly, then repeating it, louder, angrier. "Admit what, you fucking jerk?"

  They start again, chanting the words, surrounding me.

  You know what you did, you know what you did.

  "What did I do? Tell me, just tell me," I sniffle.

  "You left!" The two words echo through the room in Dexter's deep, pissed-off voice. "You left me, Pandora. You left me. You took my favorite toy away. You know what I mean, don't you? The little hole between your legs. It's all mine, and you took it away from me. And now you're going to pay for it."

  Something between a moan and a gasp escapes me and I struggle against the ropes.

  "Just let me fucking go," I beg, despite knowing how pathetic I sound. "Please, I won't tell anyone what you did, just let me fucking go!"

  "Not a chance in hell, toy," Dex hisses, and the other four figures repeat the words. "You're mine now. So just admit it. Admit it already!"

  The pressure building inside me is unbearable. I know it's a dream. It has to be. But I can't wake up. I've been pushed into ice cold water without any hope of coming back up for air. I'm numb, yet I feel everything, and it's beautiful.

  "I don't know what you want from me," I whisper, feeling more broken than ever. "What do you want, Dex? What do you fucking want?"

  "This," he grunts. I look down, and there's a beating heart in his hand. I cry and whine and whimper, but when I open my eyes again, it's still there. Thudding. Beating. "Take mine. And give me yours, toy."

  "N-No," I scream, struggling. "Get away from me!"

  "I'm never going to leave you," Dex whispers in my ear. "You have a part of me now. And I have a part of you."

  He clicks his fingers, and the room empties. Then it's just me and him, and I'm no longer tied to a chair. I'm on a bed now, and the room is dark an
d dangerous, with toys and gadgets designed to make me suffer covering every surface of the floor and walls.

  "What is this place?"

  "Do you like it?" he smirks. "I had it built just for you, my favorite little toy."

  "What are you going to do to me?" I whisper.

  "Wait and see, my little toy. Wait and see." Dex walks over to a wall, carefully examining the whips hanging from hooks on it. "I wonder which one I should make you take. The same one I got hit with when your father punished me? Could you handle it?"

  "N-No," I manage. "Please don't..."

  The memory of his whipping is all too fresh in my mind. The scars must be horrendous.

  "Such a scaredy cat." Dex laughs easily. "Fine, we'll go easy on you. Maybe a nice leather flogger."

  He picks up one of them from a table laden with instruments designed for sexual torture. I swallow thickly when I see his weapon of choice. It's dark red leather, with spiky silver studs on the tassels.

  "I won't go too hard," he promises. "Just enough. So you remember what you're supposed to admit to me."

  "I don't know what you want from me," I whine, fearfully looking away as he runs the tassels over my bare chest. It feels so good, I flush in embarrassment. "Please, Dex..."

  "Dig deep, little toy." He grins at me, knowing he holds all the power. "Dig until you uncover all your secrets."

  He forcibly spreads my legs. I watch his spit dribble down, hit my pussy and hear myself moaning when he fucks it into me with two fingers.

  "Didn't even need it toy, did you? You were so fucking wet for me already, you little slut..."

  "P-Please," I manage. "Don't hurt me."

  "I won't," he promises. "Just give me what I want."

  He begins hitting me gently with the tassles. At first it stings. But the more he increases his strength, the better the hits feel. Yes, they sting, but God, it's so fucking delicious. The leather and studs leave red kisses on my skin. I flush, hating myself when the first moan escapes my lips. Dex doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't say a word.

  He just keeps hitting. Slowly, patiently, knowing he's going to get what he wants in the end, because there's no fucking way I can resist this. Resist him.

  "I'll keep going, toy," he tells me gently. "I'll keep going until you admit the truth."

  I keep begging and begging until my voice goes. I don't even know what I'm asking for anymore. The words are right there. I could say them right now. Because of-fucking-course I know what Dexter Booth wants to hear. After all, he's already forced me to say it before.

  "Come on, toy," he urges me. "Say it. Say it for me. Admit it. Tell me how you feel. Tell me what you want."

  "I need..." My voice breaks and I cry out when he hits me again, but not because it hurts. Because he's too gentle, and I want more delicious, beautiful pain. "I need you, Dex..."

  "Tell me more," he demands. "Tell me everything."

  "I need you." Suddenly I'm desperate. Eager to get the words out. Maybe this is the last chance I have, because it feels as if I'm being pulled somewhere far, far away from here. "I want you. I don't want anyone but you, Dexter. I love you. I love you."

  "That's right," he mutters, but the sound is so very far away. "That's right, my pretty little toy, that's exactly right..."

  I whimper, trying to reach out to him, but he's too far away, and I'm lost in the darkness again.

  It pulls and pulls, demanding I fall deeper, give into the current.

  But I struggle against it as much as I can.

  I struggle, because I won't lose him again.

  I want Dexter Booth, and no one is taking him away from me.

  ***

  "Pandora, fucking please, please, I'm begging you. Please, toy. Please."

  My eyes flutter open but can't hold position. I feel so heavy and so light at the same time.

  "Stop it, Dexter," I mutter, but this time the words feel different than they did in the dream. They're heavier, carrying more of an implication. "Just fucking stop it."

  "Look at me, toy, please—just look at me. I need to see those pretty eyes."

  A hand grabs my cheeks and my eyes fly open, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I struggle against the unwanted, unfamiliar touch.

  "Stop resisting," Dex hisses. "Look at me."

  And I do. I force my eyes open, and I look deep into his. It's not a dream this time, it can't be. I used to know those eyes like the back of my hand. But they're different now. Darker. The pools seem deeper. There's pain in them. There was pain before, but it was sharp and deep. The new kind is layered. One thing on top of another. Too many sad things to count, all of them pushing down on Dex.

  I let out a sob as he embraces me.

  "Where is she?" I manage, finally waking up, even if I'm slowly losing consciousness again. "Where is Lily Anna with the baby?"

  Dex pulls back and smooths my hair off my face, but I know it's just a distraction tactic.

  "Where are they?" I roar.

  "We don't know," Dex admits brokenly. "We're trying to find them."

  "You have to go after them." I trip over the words in an effort to get them all out as soon as possible. "She left with the baby in a car seat. It must have been ages since she left. Go, Dexter, go... Please..."

  "Emilian went after them," he mutters, holding me close. "He'll find them."

  "You have to help him." I'm crying again. Whether it's out of relief that he found me and I'm alive, or out of fear for my baby, I don't know. "You have to find my baby."

  "I have to help you," Dex mutters. "Did you see this place? It's a fucking mess..."

  I take a look around, only then realizing I'm still on the floor atop a mess of once white sheets that are now drenched in blood. My blood.

  "I called an ambulance," Dexter goes on. "And I'll go with you to the hospital."

  "No, no, Dex. Please, don't do that!" I grab him desperately, clinging on to his jacket. "You have to go after Lily Anna, you have to stop her!"

  "If I have to pick, I'm picking you," he mutters. I don't even know if he's aware he said that out loud. He looks pale as a ghost.

  "Pick the baby, Dex," I whisper, but he shakes his head silently and pulls me onto his lap. I feel his fingers caressing my cheeks as the darkness creeps in with its dark, shadowy fingers. This time, I give in gratefully, because even the fucked up dream I had before would be better from my messed up reality.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dexter

  I stay by Pandora's side, holding her hand, until the paramedics arrive. She drifts in and out of consciousness, her accusatory eyes on mine every time they fly open.

  I know she thinks I should've gone after Lily Anna. But I can't bring myself to leave my toy alone. She's in danger. I know it the moment the paramedics arrive and I see the grave expressions on their faces. They pry her hand away from mine and load her onto a gurney. They allow me to get in the ER van after I insist I'm not fucking leaving.

  The ride to the hospital takes ages. With every second that passes, the nurse riding in the back of the van with me looks more concerned. Pandora looks deathly pale. Her lips are almost blue, translucent. I can barely make out the rise and fall of her chest.

  "Am I going to lose her?", the words escape my lips before I even realize I asked the question.

  The nurse gives me a long look. "I'm not going to lie to you, Mr. Booth. It doesn't look good."

  My hands tighten into fists. I spent the rest of the ride in silence, thinking about Lily Anna and what I'm going to do to her when I get my hands on her. They're going to have to hold me back so I don't fucking kill her. I have a feeling the only thing that will dissuade me from putting a bullet in her head is the knowledge that I'll be locked up if I do. I can't leave Pandora alone again. Can't risk the distance between us. I need to stay by her side and do what's best for my toy.

  We're rushed into the hospital while an alarm blares through the hallways. Despite my insistence to stay by Pandora's side, the doctors shoo me out of t
he operating room. I pace the hallway outside when my phone buzzes with a call from Emilian Oakes.

  "Did you fucking find her?" I bark into the phone. "Tell me you have that bitch."

  From his long pause, I can tell he doesn't have any good news for me. "I'm sorry, Dexter. We did our best, but she's just... gone. Gone without a trace."

  "Unacceptable." I want to fucking punch something, but there's a kid with his mom in the same waiting room, and I don't want to scare her, so I force myself to hold back. "You got someone trying to find her? People tailing her? Eyes all over town?"

  "We do," Oakes reassures me. "I'm coming to the hospital now. How is Pandora?"

  "She's not doing well." Admitting it out loud threatens to break me. But I hide the shakiness in my voice well. I cover it up with barely held back rage and tell Emilian to get there as soon as he can before ending the call.

  Emilian arrives what feels like hours later. We sit in the waiting room together, and he brings me a plastic cup of stale coffee every hour while the doctors fight for Pandora's life.

  That's what I'm assuming they're doing. We've been here for hours, and no one has come out of that operating room. As much as I hate being kept in the dark, I'm grateful for the professionals who've made saving Pandora their priority.

  We wait for ages before the double doors of the operating theater finally open. Oakes and I are instantly on our feet despite our tiredness, approaching the exhausted doctor who lifts his hands to ask us for some space. He's tired and worn out just like we are. I fucking shake anticipating the news.

  "How is she, doctor?" Emilian asks.

  "She's..." He glances between us and I feel my heart stop for a brief moment. "She's not stable yet. She's in critical condition."

  "But she's alive," I mutter.

  "She is," he nods. "We believe the operation we just performed saved her life. We had to stitch her up—she was bleeding profusely. It seems the birth had some complications. She really should have been in the hospital for it."

  My nails dig into my palms. Lily Anna will pay for this.