Heathens (Badlands Book 4)

by Natalie Bennett

  Having been on the receiving end of that sound a dozen times, I knew it meant one of two things. Either he was disappointed, or his cock was content. Obviously the first option was preferable.

  When we entered the room we shared, I took a fortifying mental breath, knowing what was coming next.

  Sure enough, as soon as the door was shut Vitus’ hands were on my hips and I was being turned into his chest.

  “Look at me,” he commanded softly.

  I breathed in the smell of him, smoke from the fire and the liquor he’d used to fuel it, gathering my bearings before I forced my eyes to meet his.

  Vitus was a far cry from ugly.

  He was ruggedly handsome, well built, and had captivating greenish-blue hues. His personality, on the other hand, left much to be desired.

  He brought his hands up and cupped my face."You know you could be happy if you gave us a chance.”

  I covered his hands with mine and fought the urge to rip the damn things off, unable to form an acceptable response.

  I’d never understand how he could go from the man who ordered a whole family be executed to a doting lover in five minutes flat.

  It was more than a little unsettling.

  “One day, you’ll agree with me.”

  Not likely. What kind of woman fell for a man who acquired her through a trade? A man who was essentially keeping her against her will?

  We always ended up right back at square one.

  From the time I’d arrived, he’d made it abundantly clear he wanted me to be his in every sense of the word.

  Sometimes, I wished it could be that easy, that I could wipe everything else away. I’d be protected from everyone but him. I’d have a roof over my head and food in my stomach.

  I would have someone in my corner who gave a damn, even if the feeling was misplaced and he was a terrible human being.

  If I had to pick a monster to love, I’d already done that, and it wasn’t Vitus.

  I was willing to risk the fear of being alone for the simple fact that I refused to settle, regardless of how fucked up this world was.

  At my prolonged silence, he released a deep breath and slid his jacket from my shoulders whilst simultaneously lowering his mouth.

  I shoved all thoughts of right and wrong to a dark corner of my mind, giving him the access he was seeking.

  His tongue tangled with mine and I got another sigh. This one was content. As soon as I began to reciprocate, he used his body to walk me backward. His hands were everywhere.

  I grabbed the back of his neck and kept his mouth pressed to mine. My shoes came off, followed by my cotton dress, leaving me completely naked with my nipples beading from the cool air.

  He pulled back slightly, his eyes hungrily feasting on every bare inch of my skin. I didn’t hide or shy away.

  By this point, he’d already seen me nude on multiple occasions. I wasn’t ashamed of my body.

  Not anymore.

  My stomach was not as flat as a board, but it wasn’t a pudge either, and my ass jiggled when I ran. I had an ample chest, pinched lips, and big pale brown eyes.

  So while I wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants, this body coupled with the sweet and innocent aura I naturally emanated had saved my ass plenty of times.

  I stepped forward and closed the small gap between us, but that’s all I did. Vitus always led. He had a control problem I’d quickly learned to placate.

  His clothes joined mine and we found our way to the mattress.

  In a matter of seconds, I was on my back with him perched above me, eyes holding mine.

  He ran his large hands from my ankles to my thighs, kneading the flesh with his fingers.

  “No matter how many times I fuck your sweet cunt, it’s never enough. I think I may keep you forever,” he mused, spreading me wide.

  His hand slid down my torso to my pussy, where he skillfully stroked me. Calloused fingertips ran up and down my slit, lightly circling my clit.

  I sunk my teeth into the side of my cheek to stop a small whimper from escaping.

  “Tell me how you want it,” he rasped.

  “H-hard,” I stuttered around the sour taste that flooded my mouth.

  “Good girl,” he crooned as I gradually grew wetter, his eyes trained between my legs. My body was a traitor to my mind.

  I kept my mental torment under lock, forcing a small smile.

  He returned it with a genuine one, leaning low to brush his lips over mine.

  When he replaced his fingers with his cock, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  With one solid flex of his hips, he was inside me.

  At my soft gasp, a cocky grin came to his face. He pulled out and thrust back in, moving at a steady tempo. I didn’t cry, didn’t beg for him to stop or lie to myself about what was happening.

  Within my first few days here, I saw firsthand what happened to the captive women when he and his gang were through with them.

  Deal or no deal, I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to be rid of me the moment I lost his interest.

  So I spread my legs wider and accepted every thrust, moaning in his ear to encourage him.

  His hands grabbed hold of my ass, spreading the cheeks so far apart it burned.

  He rammed himself into me over and over again as if he wanted to break me apart. His groans of pleasure and the slapping of our skin filled the air.

  I could do nothing more than hold onto his broad shoulders and allow my body to be brought to release as he found comfort between my legs.

  Surrender had never been so painfully bittersweet, but I didn’t have any other choice. I would do whatever I had to do to survive.

  This wasn’t just sex.

  It was my lifeline.

  Chapter Two

  BLUE

  He shut his eyes and drew me into his side.

  A hand came to the back of my head, forcing my cheek to his sweaty chest.

  “Sleep, Blue,” he commanded.

  I remained silent, my body language completely mute with the exception of my racing pulse.

  I waited for his breathing to deepen, counting the seconds between my slow burning shame.

  I wished he would leave.

  My head was pounding and my eyes burned. I swallowed a few times and willed all the self-loathing away.

  I’d been going through this since I was seventeen. I knew the drill, but it never lessened the degradation I felt in the end.

  It’s over now. You’re okay. I soothed myself with lies, applying temporary balm to wounds that would be torn wide open again tomorrow.

  His come was already drying on my thigh. The fact that he pulled out brought me little comfort—not when it wasn’t one hundred percent failproof. It would be just my screwed up luck to wind up pregnant on top of everything else.

  Not allowing myself to dwell on what we’d just done for what felt like the hundredth time, I preoccupied my thoughts with the bodies that had been cruelly burned in the yard before I was all but dragged in here.

  There was so much blood, so much screaming. And death.

  Acts of brutality didn’t shock me anymore. I’d grown desensitized to it in a way that I myself couldn’t understand.

  There was emptiness in my chest where empathy was supposed to be. I wasn’t angry or bitter, just comfortably numb. But that was only towards the acts themselves.

  The aftermath was always too much for me to handle.

  I knew I wasn’t anything like the people I’d been living with the past few weeks.

  The Venom were merciless killers. It was a gang made up of men and a few rough-around-the-edges women that had banded together. I swore their sole agenda was to wreak havoc on the weak for entertainment.

  I was no saint; I’d taken my fair share of lives and didn’t regret a single last breath I’d witnessed being eradicated from dying lungs. However, all similarities ended there.

  I didn’t kill for sport, and I didn’t kill for pleasure. I killed to ensure I
would see another sunrise. On rare occasion, I killed to protect someone else.

  Propping my chin in my hand, I studied the man beside me, his dark curls, fresh scruff, and the soft rise and fall of his bare chest. There was a jagged scar on his right side that had healed with the skin slightly raised.

  I wanted to hate him. Part of me did for what he’d done to Arlen. But there was a part of me that just..didn’t.

  I felt nothing for him, emotionally or even physically. I just couldn’t condemn him for being a vile person when I craved a man who was just as bad.

  However, I certainly wouldn’t miss the bastard when he was put six feet under. When it was time for him to pay for all his wrong-doings, I would be one of them who preached he deserved it.

  Looking him over, I wondered how he could sleep so soundly when his daily life was anything but peaceful.

  With a little huff, I slowly moved away from him, wincing from the soreness between my thighs.

  The emblem on his neck—a snake wrapped around the letter V, a representation of the horde he belonged to—seemed to watch my every move.

  It reminded me of a certain someone else, too, but I didn’t want to think about him.

  I’d done enough of that lately.

  Lying flat on my back beneath the comfort of a sheet, I stared up at the paint chipped ceiling.

  As I listened to the pitter patter of raindrops on the prison’s rooftop, I reflected on how I wound up here.

  I’d been pawned for someone else’s barter with no liberty to object.

  My fate was sealed the second the only man I’d ever been interested in chose my frenemy over me.

  It wasn’t all that surprising in the end, and I think that cut even deeper.

  I guess I never thought I’d be in this position again, lying beside a stranger and feeling utterly alone.

  It called forth memories that were better off exactly where I’d left them: buried in the graveyard of my past.

  After another minute or so, my restless energy had me quietly slipping from the makeshift bed. I kept one eye trained on Vitus as I shoved my feet into a pair of Jersey-lined flats and scooped my navy dress up off the floor.

  I cast one last glance his way before creeping out of the room.

  Once in the hall, I drew a small breath, inhaling the pungent stench that always seemed to be clinging to the stale air, exhaling as I moved towards the restroom.

  Vitus had taken residence in what was once the administrative office, placing the bathroom just a few quick strides away.

  Voices in the near distance, approaching from the east wing of the prison, had me hurrying through the heavy wooden door.

  I used my hip to push it shut and immediately turned the flimsy lock.

  It smelled little better here, but that couldn’t be helped. Walls that had once been white were now a faded, depressing yellow. Heavily dusted lights projected the same miserable color.

  I quickly relieved my bladder, squatting above a toilet in one of the only stalls that didn’t have old piss on the floor and menstrual blood smeared on the wall.

  When finished, I made my way to the sink and studied my dulled reflection in the grime layered mirror.

  My blue waves were longer now, falling beneath my breasts, and less vibrant, blonde roots were gradually beginning to make an appearance.

  Eyes slightly puffy from another night of unrest stood out harshly against my alabaster skin.

  Aside from all that, I looked as I always had—minus the exhaustion and permanent brand on the side of my neck, of course.

  But I’d take being tired over being dead any day of the week, and the symbol burned into my flesh had become my safety net in this damned forsaken prison.

  “I’m okay,” I told my reflection, speaking some positivity into existence.

  I had a never-ending list of reasons why I should break down and throw myself a big ol’ pity party. Half the time I walked around on auto-pilot, but I refused to become so hopeless that I accepted this as my end game.

  Turning the sink on, I patiently waited for the water to travel through the rusted pipes.

  A decent bit spurted from the spicket for all of three seconds before slowing to a dismal drip.

  Cupping my palms to catch any amount of the lukewarm liquid, I did my best to wash up.

  I started with my face, then my neck, and finally between my legs. It wasn’t going to do the same job as the showers, but I never went in there unless Vitus was with me.

  The first confrontation I’d gotten in was with a woman who came in after I did…and I can assure you there’s nothing dignified about fighting ass naked.

  A sound from outside the door, much like a woman’s plea being cut short, had me pausing.

  I shut the faucet off and strained my ears, concluding I was hearing things when it didn’t come again.

  I dried my hands on the hem of my dress and exited the bathroom, stepping out into the hall at the same time that a now fully clothed Vitus did.

  Our gazes met for merely a second before they were intercepted by two of his men.

  My attention went straight to the woman sandwiched between them. She looked half-dead.

  I tilted my head to the side and furrowed my brows, wondering who she was.

  She had a head full of messy brown hair hiding her face from view.

  The clothes she wore, if they could even be called that, had a distinct moldy smell and were practically hanging off her emaciated frame.

  She moved painfully slow, her blackened feet barely lifting off the floor. The men on either side of her were holding onto her arms. I doubted she could stand without their assistance.

  They stopped directly in front of Vitus, ignoring my presence as they usually did.

  When they began to converse, it was in low whispers, well aware I’d be listening.

  He made a few hand gestures and then reached out to lift a strand of the woman’s hair. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger before letting it fall back into a nest of tangles and frizz.

  I didn’t miss the slight intimacy in his gesture, or the way his eyes lingered on her face. This gentleness was unlike him.

  I’d seen how he behaved towards plenty of other women since I’d been here, and with the exception of me plus one or two others, he was always unnecessarily cruel.

  It was this train of thought that had me stupidly stepping forward without thinking. I’d barely gone an inch closer than I already was, making no sound whatsoever, yet the miniscule motion was still enough to garner Vitus’ full, heavy-weighted attention.

  I backtracked, blinking a few times to clear any warring curiosity from my face, slipping back into my usual persona of nothing more than a sweet, unassuming and naive young woman.

  That’s what most people thought me to be, anyway. In a sense, they were right—I was pretty damn sweet. I was also the same girl who’d gutted a man while he was in the shower.

  My inner savage was complicated.

  I was a lamb, but even lambs have teeth.

  Vitus scrutinized me for a second longer before telling his lackeys, “Get her some food and then take her to the showers.”

  They heeded his directive without protest, continuing down the hall with the woman still secured between them.

  For him to feed, clean, and house her meant she was definitely important in some way or another. I wondered if she had anything to do with him and the Savages’ plans to infiltrate Centriole, The Kingdom.

  Judging by her appearance, that was a stretch.

  I watched the three of them disappear down the hall and then looked back to Vitus.

  He offered no explanation, simply staring right back at me with shuttered eyes before finally saying, “Come back to bed.”

  “Who was that?” I asked, staying exactly where I was.

  “Come back to bed,” he repeated. The tic in his jaw was the only indication that I’d just pissed him off.

  Swallowing down the rebuttal that would raise un
necessary conflict between us, I set my pride aside and went to him with a mind full of intrigue and thoughts of a certain Savage once again bubbling back to the surface.

  Chapter Three

  COBRA

  Popping noises filled the air as cartilage and ligaments snapped away from bone.

  Gnawing on the inside of my lip, I let the rope go and watched his body slump awkwardly against the tilted platform.

  Isaac, as his nametag deemed him, had passed out.

  Again.

  I mean, he’d also pissed himself and thrown up, but at least he was awake when those things happened.

  I surveyed his separated hips and shoulders, dislocated elbows and knees, confirming what I’d figured out about a half hour ago.

  This whiny fuck had been telling the truth. He didn’t know any of the inner workings of Centriole or have a single clue about what Vitus’ agenda could be. He was nothing more than a lowly employee sent out to monitor the power grid.

  He’d been going about his business when an acolyte snatched him up and dragged his ass straight to the devil’s playground.

  I glanced at the clock hanging above the mini bar, timing myself at a little over two hours. I’d tortured him for an hour longer than necessary—that wasn’t too bad, if you ask me.

  I gave a sharp tug on the knife I’d stabbed into the wood beside his face. The blade came right out, leaving a small indent behind.

  Looking at Isaac, I debated what I wanted to do to him next. I could leave him exactly as he was, or end it all now.

  His death was inevitable; whether it came in the next two seconds or in a few hours, making him wait wasn’t going to change the outcome, and I couldn’t care less about his pain.

  Fuck, I relished his pain.

  I’d always had a strong affinity when it came to making motherfuckers beg, bleed, and scream.

  I needed the release that came with their anguish and despair.

  It was my self-imposed buffer that kept me from analyzing the bullshit inside my head.

  Coming to a decision, I flipped my buck-bone blade around and dug it into Isaac’s chest.

  Starting right beneath his throat, I made a jagged line down the center of his torso. He only jerked once, but that was more than likely his body going into immediate shock.