“It’s a celebration.”
“Of yourself? When did you have time to do all this?”
“I told you, I have connections. This celebration is for you…us.”
“Why would we celebrate with your cult? What are we even celebrating?”
I tried to stand up but he locked his arms around my waist.
“I thought you’d be happy about this. I’m letting you in.”
“I am…I think. I need a minute.” I kissed his cheek as a reassurance that I wasn’t all the way freaked out—yet. I went to stand again and this time he let me, only to motion two robed men over to take hold of me.
My heart lurched into my throat as I found myself on the ground, my arms and legs each secured to a wooden stake in the pentacle.
“What are you doing?”
I tugged at the rope around my wrists but couldn’t break free of it. “Rome?”
I wriggled around in the dirt as hooded figures surrounded me, all wearing the silver leviathan cross around their necks.
I looked all around me but could no longer see him. A man stepped forward, holding a wriggling baby ram in his hands.
He held it above me so another man could slit its throat.
“No!” I protested, turning my head as blood rained down on me from above, coating my chest and neck, some inevitably landing on my face.
The circle parted the smallest bit, and I lifted my head up to see a shirtless Romero back in front of me, wearing a mask a little different from everyone else’s.
“What are you doing to me?” I screamed at him, furiously tugging at my restraints. He covered my body with his, pressing me into the dirt. I felt a sharp pinch, then a sting, followed by something wet running down my legs.
I sucked in a sharp breath when the same thing was done on the other side, and then repeated twice more.
Dropping my head back I closed my eyes and focused only on breathing, trying to ignore the way my body was reacting and the endorphins swimming through my brain.
I still had my eyes closed when he shoved my underwear to the side and pushed into me. I was so wet he slid in with ease. I had no choice but to take every inch of him as blood ran down my legs.
The men around us begin to quietly chant ave satanas as he fucked me harder, making me break my silent pact not to make a sound.
The music pouring from her mouth emanated pleasure and pain, her muscles flexing every time I touched her with the tip of the knife.
I loved seeing her like this, coming apart; it was beautiful. Ever since we’d met, she’d fed the beast in me, teased him and damn near begged him to come out.
I wonder what she would think of all this when she woke up, when she wasn’t so high off pain and my dick making her come that she could think straight.
What we did was animalistic. It was dirty. It had to be done; I had to shove her headfirst over the edge and straight into my world. They needed to know she would be my side––forever. This was deeper than marriage. It never ended until we were both buried twelve feet under.
This thing between was still begging to be explored. She had no idea what the near future had in store for her. She wasn’t done being molded just yet.
All that aside, she was it for me.
She wasn’t classically gorgeous, wasn’t what anyone would think of when they thought of centerfolds.
She was a sick bitch.
Maniac.
Homicidal harlot.
And that’s what made her so fucking beautiful—a motherfucking queen. Her devious, filthy fucking soul stole the air from my lungs.
I wanted her forever under my compulsion.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Maybe it was all a dream.
And then I sat up and realized how badly I wished it was.
My legs were on fire. My vagina lips were so swollen I wasn’t sure my clit was even attached to my body. There was an inverted cross tattooed on my inner thigh.
The entire night before was a blur in the background of a raging headache. I wanted to lie back down but knew I needed to get up.
Stumbling out of the bed I didn’t remember being put in, I made it to Romero’s dresser and tugged open the upper drawer.
Propping my head up with one hand, I lazily dug through, looking for a shirt that would cover all my bruised assets.
My fingers slid over something metal and broken. Shoving clothes out of the way, I picked up the frame and flipped it around to see what was inside. Popping the back off, I removed the photo and studied it.
There was a tightening in my chest, and my throat constricted when I tried to swallow. Suddenly, the clarity of where I’d seen the skeleton ring before came rushing back to me.
Tilly had it on when this picture was taken, and she’d had it on when I first met her through the border fence. All of them were pictured together: Cobra, Grimm, Romero, Tilly, and a brunette.
“What are you doing?”
I turned, still holding the picture in my hand. I opened my mouth to say something, unable to find words.
His dead eyes looked at the picture, then back at my face with an understanding so clear I almost believed he was a mind reader, forgetting that fast how well he knew me.
“That’s the girl.”
“Tilly. She has—had—a name,” I bit out.
His brows raised and he laughed. “Her name sure as fuck wasn’t Tilly. Her name was Tiffany and she was one of the most fucked up bitches I’ve ever met.”
Tiffany?
“She wasn’t, she was good,” I refuted.
“No, she was an unstable and untrustworthy narcissist who happened to be obsessed with me. The problem was her thinking she was better at mind games than I was. She ended up being the perfect puppet. She was not anything remotely good.”
I knew in my gut he wasn’t lying, which meant she had, like everyone always did. I let the picture flutter down and tried to move past him.
“Shit, Cali, I didn’t know, baby.” He wrapped his arms around me and smothered me into his chest.
I didn’t want to find comfort in his embrace, not when there was an ocean between us and so much that hadn’t been said. I shoved away, almost falling on my ass.
“What the hell is this? Last night, us, and now this? Who the fuck are you?”
My brain felt like it was going to split in two. I never wanted to unravel, never wanted him to see I was weak, never wanted any of the bad shit that happened to me. I wanted to live. I wanted the yesterdays full of happiness back.
I angrily swiped at my face, feeling the first tears spill over.
“Who are you?”
“Yours.”
That made it worse.
“Tito wanted me to find you,” I blurted out. “Is this why? Because you fucked his sister? What did you do to her?”
“Everyone fucked her, Cali. If you want to know what a real whore was, it was Tiffany. I didn’t do anything but give her enough rope to hang herself, and she did.” He paused and looked me over with an inexpressive look on his face. “This isn’t the time to tell you about this. I promise I didn’t know, Cali. It wasn’t a fucking secret; I just didn’t think it was relevant for you to know about.”
“Tito is the one who sent me into the woods.” I said it in a way meant to lash out. My gut instinct about bad blood between them had been right and was the only thing I had to throw back at him. I regretted it the second I said it because I knew Rome wasn’t trying to hurt me.
When his facial expression didn’t change, I repeated myself, fully accepting he might hate me and think I was using him.
“Did you hear me?”
He looked at me another minute and then finally came forward. He scooped me up like I was a doll and carried me into the bathroom.
“I’m going to take care of you now.” He kissed my forehead and turned the water on.
I didn’t bother trying to stop his hands from cleaning and massaging every inch of my skin.
I didn’t bother pointi
ng out that with every touch, he made me more his than I wanted to be. I was too busy going round and round with the madness in my head.
When he was done, he took me back to his bed and sat with me in silence, staring at one another, neither of us bringing up anything that needed to be discussed. I was okay with that right then; talking would make it all worse before it got better.
The longer we stared, the harder my heartbeat started kicking. I reached for him at the same time he reached for me.
It was the right thing to do at the wrong time. I indulged in the taste of him. His hands were everywhere, gently teasing my skin, leaving me no choice but to focus on him and nothing else.
When he finally brought our bodies together, he made it hurt in a different way.
It wasn’t brutal or cold. He fucked me lovingly, and the pain went deeper than anything I’d ever felt before. It was beautiful agony. He was tearing me open and digging out the soul I didn’t know I had, taking it for himself, permanently tying us together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
He was gone when I woke up again.
I dressed, trying to stuff my thoughts in a cell of their own and keep a positive outlook.
Shit would be okay; I always found a way to make things okay—that’s what I did, fixed my shit with duct-tape and super glue. It was never perfect or pretty but it was together.
Leaving the room, I listened for sound, hearing nothing. The building was eerily silent.
Half-way down the metal grated stairs, Arlen and Cobra came around a corner.
“Sleeping Beauty lives!” Cobra exclaimed.
“Are you okay?”
I ignored him and focused on Arlen, who had a bruise that looked like it went down the whole right side of her body.
“I should be askin you that, but we should go.”
“Grimm and Romero already went ahead so we don’t lose em, but turns out David isn’t happy about his buddy Gabe and all his delegates kicking the bucket. He’s trying to move again; we’re playing interception,” Cobra explained.
I sucked in everything he said with rapid thought process.
“Why didn’t he wake me up?” I asked, already walking towards the door before either of them could answer.
“You look like you need as much sleep as you can get.”
“Shut up, idiot,” Arlen snapped at him.
“It’s fine. When do we leave?”
“Are you sure you feel up to this after the—”
“I wanna go,” I cut him off.
“Okay, you’re the boss.”
When derelict buildings began to appear, I had a good idea where we were heading.
“Is this really a good place to meet?” I glanced in the rearview mirror at the trail of cars Cobra had met up with a few miles back.
Narcoosee Bridge only had two different directions you could go, and stone barriers on either side to prevent someone from driving into the water.
I leaned forward when I spotted a few black Jeeps up ahead, and a few pickups on the other side of the low stone divider.
Cobra stopped his Pontiac behind a few other cars and cut the engine.
“Where are they?” I asked, searching for him.
“He’s right there.” Cobra pointed and I followed.
“Why…what is he doing?”
I stared across the bridge to where Romero and Grimm stood with three robed figures behind them, and a brunette between them.
Wasn’t she in that picture?
“That’s my fuckin sister,” Arlen choked out from the backseat.
My brain was screaming at me to get out, that something wasn’t right. David appeared from behind a pickup with Noah and a man I’d never seen before, slowly walking towards Romero.
I watched the scene play out in slow motion, wanting to scream but unable to open my mouth.
When they were finally right in front of each other, they embraced, hugging like the best of friends.
“What the fuck is goin on?” Arlen yelled, opening the back door of the car.
I twisted to tell her get down, but I wasn’t fast enough to beat the gunfire that erupted up and down both ends of the bridge, both sides shooting at their own people. I glimpsed David and Romero calmly walking away as if none of it was happening.
“Ah, fuck!” I dropped down to the floor as bullets peppered the windows, covering my ears with my hands.
When I got back up, blood was smeared on the seat where Cobra had just been sitting, and he was gone. Taking a deep breath, I climbed across the front seat and through the open driver side door.
Who the fuck was the enemy of who?
People with the cross tattoos were shooting at both each other and David’s followers, and vice versa.
As I crawled on my hands and knees, using cars as shields, I couldn’t spot Arlen anywhere.
My stomach turned to stone as I heard the arrival of more vehicles and round two transpired.
Bodies were dropping left and right; glass and blood were everywhere. Deciding to take my chances, I rushed to the barrier and pulled myself up, barely missing a stray bullet.
Looking down at the navy blue water, my stomach fluttered, and I started counting to three. I made it to two before someone shoved me from behind and came over with me.
Deviants (Badlands Book Two)
Blurb
Deviants
Calista
Sick b*tch.
Maniac.
Out of my f*cking mind.
I’m not broken.
I’m just a little damaged.
I’m stronger now, stronger than I ever knew.
And it’s all because of him.
This is only the beginning but I already know how it’s going to end. I’ll be claiming my throne and they’ll be buried in the dirt.
Romero
Deranged.
Psychopath.
Out of my f*cking head.
We both know how it’s all going to end.
The blood we shed will stain our hands.
There’s not a warning out there that could prepare anyone for this.
*Deviants will conclude Romero and Cali’s story.*
Acknowledgments
*I really suck at these things, but I’m going to do my best.*
My husband. You make me coffee at four in the morning because mine always looks (and tastes) like watered down mud. You encourage me and support me every day. Seriously, though, what don’t you do?
My boys. The three of you are always determined to see how insane you can make mommy in the span of five minutes, but I still love you.
My PA, Michelle Brown. Thank you for being in my little corner & thank you for being organized because lord knows I’m a mess. You get shit done. I can’t imagine going back to the days I didn’t have you.
My editor, Evelyn Summers. Thank you for taking all my words and cleaning them up without ever changing my author voice.
Ena & Amanda with Enticing Journey. I can’t thank you two enough. You make every release a little easier.
Bloggers. Thank every single one of you that share, tag, and spread the word about my books. You all deserve so much credit for the work you do.
Last but NEVER least. All my readers. From those who have stuck with me since I had no idea what I was doing (you all deserve Medals of Honor) to those who are new; thank you for supporting me on this journey. I’m still learning and striving to make every book better than my last and you make this all worth it.
Other Books
Badlands Series
Savages
Deviants
Outcasts
Rose De Muerte
Pernicious Red
Obscene Duet
UltraViolence
Mercy
ok with friends
Savages Page 14
