Focusing on Quill, I smile. He nods at my reaction and then leans down until our gazes are level.
“Night is coming. We need to run if we want to reach the cabin before the darkness reaches us.”
“My leg is…”
“No, it’s not. The Lost Highway doesn’t work that way. You aren’t really in pain. It’s all in here,” he says, tapping my left temple. “You need to run and keep running until we’re inside. If we’re out here in the dark, I suspect I can’t protect you from the wolves or anything else living in the night. Do you understand?”
Nodding, I take a deep breath and look at where we’re headed. “I’ll follow you. If I can’t keep up, don’t wait for me.”
Quill frowns at my words, and I know he won’t leave me to die. Something awoke in him in the basement, and he fears losing the feeling before understanding what it means.
My only concern is not getting him killed, though.
We run, and I work to remain as closely behind Quill as possible. His large build busts through the overgrown brush, leaving enough space for me to follow. His pace is steady, but I can’t keep up. While I don’t fall too far behind, his distance from me increases.
I focus on him rather than the darkening woods. His long legs pump hard even though he carries at least thirty pounds of supplies on his back. Quill moves like a machine, but I felt his heart beating in the basement and know he’s a man.
Wanting to feel his face again, I run faster. No matter how far ahead he becomes or how much the woods darken, I don’t stop. My tongue still relishes the sweetness of the candy, and my fingers tingle at the feel of his cheeks.
If I make it to the cabin, I plan to kiss him. His kiss in the basement felt clumsy, more hostile than passionate. He didn’t know what to do, but I’ll teach him. Quill never knew kindness. That much is clear based on his rough ways. I’ll show him how to treat me gently and how to pamper himself with small gestures.
When I run now, my leg no longer hurts. I only see Quill’s back in the distance and know I will reach the cabin before the darkness does.
The woods suddenly end, and I’m in the clearing. Quill stands at the foot of the porch steps. He calls my name, and I hear his panic. He knows the darkness is closing in on us, and he also hears the growling. We aren’t alone here, but I won’t allow fear to slow me. I keep running right past him and into the cabin, knowing he’ll follow.
Quill bolts the door closed and glances out the window. Based on his reaction, we barely made it. He closes the shades and turns to me.
“Thank you for the Skittle,” I say, sliding off my jacket. “It helped a lot.”
Quill’s face is a mask of rage and fear. He hates me now. I slow him down and make him care if I am left behind. He doesn’t want to feel anything. Indifference is all he knows, but it’s not what he needs.
Deep inside, Quill is curious about the warmth and care I offer. He isn’t blind to everything he missed in his odd, militaristic upbringing. Until now, he believed nothing he lacked was worth wanting.
I’ve changed everything for him, and now my weaknesses threaten to steal it all away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Quill
After unpacking the supplies, I wait for Odessa to listen to music or eat a piece of fruit. Rather than embrace the sounds and flavors of her old life, she watches me. I narrow my eyes at Odessa, wanting her to take the hint. She only narrows her eyes at me and then smiles.
“Have a peach,” I mutter.
“Will you eat some too?”
“It’s not poisoned.”
“I hope not,” she says, walking to the kitchen.
As her fingers slide over the peach, their movements mesmerize me. I remember the way they moved against my forearm. How they felt teasing my face. I need to stop thinking about her fingers, but they’re all I see until her lips press against the peach’s flesh.
Stepping back, I glare at her. Odessa’s infected me with her limitations. My body doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It craves activities I don’t need or want. I’m unsure how to feed the desires. Odessa would know, but I refuse to ask. If a modest taste of affection turns me into this mess, I can’t chance taking things further.
“Have a bite,” she says, cutting a slice and placing it against my lips.
I eat the peach without tasting its sweetness. I can only think of Odessa in the shower back when she arrived at the cabin. The sight hadn’t affected me then, but now I am very aware of her small breasts under the yellow shirt she wears. I know her nipples are pink and harden in the cold. I recall the slight patch of dark hair covering her pussy.
Why can’t I stop thinking of her naked? I wonder if the Lost Highway is using her to destroy me.
Odessa slowly eats the peach, enjoying each bite. When juice drips down her chin, I ache to reach out and wipe it away. My fingers yearn to touch her.
I saved her. Not only today but since the first time I saw her in the Lost Highway. I deserve to take what I desire. Odessa wants to be punished, and I can be the man to hurt her the way she wants. I’ll give her what she craves, and she’ll provide what I need. We can make the same agreement she had with John.
I’m relieved the man is dead. I don’t want him walking around knowing how Odessa’s body feels. He needs to be dead, and she killed him, but I find myself wishing I could be the one to end him.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, handing me another slice of peach.
My mind is on how she can relieve my painful erection. Except I refuse to give into this weakness.
The other Death Dealers haven’t disappeared simply because I feel lust. The wolves still hunt near the cabin. We aren’t safe, and I must remain on guard. Licking the juice from Odessa’s lips is a distraction I don’t need.
I’m startled from my thoughts by a loud popping sound. I realize I’ve crushed a ceramic cup in my hand. Looking at the jagged pieces, I hadn’t realized I was even holding anything.
I study my hand and then look to Odessa. She watches me with a soft gaze, and I think of how easily I could snap her neck. Without thinking, I could tear her apart just to have a few moments of pleasure and relief.
Despite knowing I’m too dangerous to allow my lust free, I can’t extinguish the hunger. For the first time, I understand the weakness inside others. I’ve never hated being human more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Quill
The basement is the last place I normally want to be. I don’t like the nagging voices or the smell of bleach and blood. Now I view the brightly lit torture cell as my salvation. Walking down the stairs, I know Odessa will follow. She won’t let me out of her sight since we returned from the outpost. I’m her salvation.
I remove and fold my shirt before setting it on the work bench along with the key for the chains. Sitting on the ground, I wrap one of the metal cuffs around my left wrist. Odessa watches me, still standing on the stairs.
“Come latch my other wrist.”
Odessa hesitates before finally obeying. Once I’m chained, she steps back and wraps her arms around her body.
“You did this,” I tell her. “This is your fault, so you need to fix it.”
Confused, Odessa only watches me. Her inability to understand infuriates me, and I jerk against the chains.
“You wanted comfort. You did this to me, and now you need to fix it. I can’t think with this fire inside me. You need to make it stop.”
Odessa shuffles closer and leans forward, so her soft hair drapes my face. “Does it need to be this way, Quill?” she gently asks.
“I want to hurt you,” I growl. “The heat makes me want to tear apart the world.”
Resting her hands on my shoulders, Odessa lowers herself onto my lap. Her inner thighs nuzzle my hips while her hands slide from my shoulders to my chest.
“Make it stop,” I whisper.
Her mouth covers mine, sucking at my lips. I squirm at the feel of her tongue forcing its way into my mouth. The feel of her hips rolli
ng against mine sends a blistering wave of rage and desire through me. I don’t know how to respond to such powerful sensations. I bite her bottom lip, but she only pulls away and kisses my forehead.
“Quill, do you remember when we first met? How you came out of the woods like a ghost and swept me off the ground as if I were a feather?”
Her words mean nothing in my mind saturated with hunger. I can’t think of anything besides I need her to fix what she broke. Despite my insanity, I understand how her tone promises relief. Her lips on my cheeks are rainfall against my overheated skin.
“You are so powerful. Nothing can hurt you,” she promises even though her very existence is destroying me.
I want to tell her how much I hate her for making me feel so out of control. Her lips cover mine before I can speak. Soon, her fingers linger on my chest before reaching for the button on my pants. Bucking, I want her off of me, but Odessa refuses to stop.
Once her fingers wrap around my scorching hard flesh, I’m blinded by pain and pleasure. After years in this place, I’m undeniably lost.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Odessa
Quill howls with relief when his body releases a lifetime of pent-up need. I stroke him as his body erupts, sending liquid heat over my fingers. My other hand presses against his chest, holding myself steady over his writhing body.
Tears burn my eyes when I see Quill this vulnerable. Unable to understand his body’s desires, he’s innocent in a way I can’t fathom. Death he knows, yet tenderness remains a mystery.
I can’t bear to see his primal expression. Or how his wrists bleed from his frenzied movements. Quill remains part beast even after he softens in my hand. The orgasm brings him no relief, and I know I can’t unchain him yet. He’s out of control. If I freed him, Quill would likely kill me.
Never could I redeem my soul after letting Athena die. I hated knowing I got to live when she didn’t. My pleasure was always a cruel joke and worthy of punishment. Much like Quill punishes himself now. He doesn’t do it out of guilt but from innocence that he shouldn’t possess. I can never fix what I did to Athena, but I’ll find a way to save Quill from the madness I see in his eyes.
My mouth welcomes his cock. I hear him growl in anger at how his body betrays him. He wants the desire to disappear. He needed relief, but once won’t be enough after a lifetime without.
His shaft swells, hardening as the head presses against the back of my throat. I steadily suck at him, wanting him to find a release. Quill yells my name, and I look up. He’s enraged at his body’s reaction. Or he doesn’t like how I use my mouth on him. I don’t know what he wants. The never chatty man is barely verbal now.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, stripping out of my clothes.
I straddle him and guide his hard flesh between my legs. Quill instantly yanks at the chains, wanting free. I don’t know if his hands would caress my body or tear me apart. What I do know is his furious expression turns angelic once the head of his cock enters me. The more of him I take, the more relaxed his face becomes. His body only wants carnal pleasure, yet the terrified man inside Quill needs reassurance. He finds it when I whisper to him while our hips move together.
“You’re the only one,” I tell him. “The strongest man I’ve ever met. You’re so powerful and handsome. You always protect me.”
Quill watches me. His face is tranquil, though his eyes remain wary. I don’t blame him for fearing me. No doubt he hears lies from the voices, just as I do. They probably warn that I’ll destroy him by making him weak.
“They’re jealous of you,” I whisper in his ear while my pussy sucks hungrily at his flesh. “The voices want to be strong, but they’re weak. They want to be you, but they failed. Don’t listen to them.”
Quill hears the reason in my words, but I still see fear in his gaze. He doesn’t want to be locked up. He hates the lack of control. Pleasure and violence mix inside him, and he doesn’t know what he truly desires. Killing me might feel as amazing as fucking me does.
“Claim me,” I say, staring into his dark eyes. “Make me forget everyone before you. Demand I only see you. You’re a man, and you need to make me belong to only you.”
Quill responds immediately. His hips drive harder into me, and the head of his cock beats steadily against my cervix. If he could fuck me harder or deeper, he would, but my body can’t take more of his flesh.
A voice in my head says I don’t deserve this pleasure with Quill. I’ve committed a sin too dark to enjoy even a moment of happiness. They tell me to deny Quill and pay my debt. As long as I’m happy, I’ve done wrong by Athena.
“No,” I tell the voice. “I’ve paid for my sin, and I won’t give him up.”
Quill doesn’t react to my words. His head rests against the wall. His eyes are closed. His hips pump mercilessly. He’s close to an orgasm. I see the way his gut muscles tense and feel his cock thicken.
“Claim me, Quill. I want to be blind to every man before you. Make me worship you. Make me yours.”
When he lets loose, the room shakes with the power of his rage and passion. He howls my name, both exalting and cursing me with one word. I can’t handle the pressure of his desire and cry out his name in relief.
Wrapping my arms around him, I hold onto his thrashing body. He’s in a state of violent awakening. Much like how his seed fills me with his ferocious arousal, a warm and welcoming freedom washes over my heart.
To make myself worthy of caring for Quill, I must forgive myself for wronging Athena. All of these years, I’ve denied the urge to soothe my guilt. Never wanting freedom from the pain until suffering was all I understood.
Now, for Quill, I let go of the shame and grief to make room in my heart for him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Odessa
Quill sleeps for what might be the first time since he arrived in the Lost Highway. I peek into the back room to find him collapsed on the bed where I left him. He doesn’t stir when I open the door.
I wish I could join him. My fingers ache to touch his hot skin. My lips want to brush against his temple the way I did the night before when I told him everything would be all right.
Rather than disturb him, I walk down to the basement to find cleaning supplies. The voices greet me with promises of death and misery. I ignore them and return upstairs. Outside the cabin, a thick fog blocks my view of the woods.
Quill once told me how I shouldn’t stare into the fog unless I wanted to see what haunted me. Based on his wording, he was quoting Tom. I wondered if Quill ever chanced the warning and looked into the fog. I sensed nothing haunted him before last night. Now I’m unsure what remains of the man I first met.
Feeling brazen, I tempt fate and stare into the fog. Nothing looks back at me at first. Then I notice movement in the gray mass. Athena’s face appears, missing flesh and revealing bone.
“Odessa,” she whispers, calling out to me. “Why, Odessa?”
“Because I was young and stupid,” I tell her. “I would take it back, but I can’t. There’s no way to return to that moment and save you.”
“You killed me.”
“I have to let you go.”
“You let me go then too. You let me die.”
“I’m sorry, Athena. The real you would know how sorry I feel, and she would forgive me. I know you’re not her. You’re the evil in the Lost Highway, but I don’t hate you for showing her to me. I don’t hate me for what happened anymore. You’ll have to torment me with something else next time.”
Wiping away my tears, I close the curtains and walk to the CD player where I turn on Charlie Daniels. Once I fill a bucket with water and carry it to my old room, I open the door and adjust to the stench.
I decide to start cleaning in the bathroom where I wash away the blood and goo. When the bucket’s water turns foul, I replace it and continue working. The CD finishes twice before I feel Quill behind me.
“What are you doing?” he asks in a voice rough from sleep.
<
br /> “I’m cleaning.”
“Why?”
“So it’ll be clean.”
“Does that mean you plan to sleep in here again?”
“No. I like the couch better.”
“Then why clean?” he asks, now angry.
I look at him and find his expression stuck somewhere between enraged and exhausted.
“This isn’t Tom’s cabin anymore. I want to wash away what reminds me of him.”
Quill says nothing for a long time before grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. “If you want to clean up after old Tom, you better get started in his trophy room.”
Dragging me out of the room and down the hall, he unlatches the door to where Tom kept his trophies. I think I know what to expect, but the sight of such horror still shocks me. I reach for Quill, but he shoves me inside and locks the door.
“These poor people,” I whisper, looking over the shelves of body parts floating in jars.
I don’t beg Quill to open the door. I refuse to listen to the voices asking me to join them. They show me a nearby blade and ask me to open my throat. They promise me everything, but I give them nothing in return.
Quill opens the door and stares at me. Although his face is concealed in the shadows, his mood is evident. He wants me to break. If I’m insane, he can save me and be the one in control. Otherwise, he’s only a man lost in a lifetime’s worth of strange emotions.
“I’ll burn them once the fog lifts,” I say, ducking under his arm pressed against the doorjamb. “Thank you for showing me.”
Grunting at my comment, Quill follows me to the living room where I change CDs and play Otis Redding. He leans against the wall and watches me. I glance at him over my shoulder and smile slightly.
“I hate you,” he hisses.
“You’ll get over it.”
Rolling his eyes, Quill heads for the front door. He sees the fog and realizes he has no escape. I watch him stare at the door, and then he looks at me. I think he might strike out at me. Returning to the bedroom, I wash out the bucket and decide I’ve done enough for today.
Lost Highway Page 7
