“Isn’t she, like, poor or something?” Rebecca had said once. “Is she one of your charity cases?”
Like an idiot, I didn’t defend her. I let my rich friends talk shit about her, smiling in her face while they stabbed a knife in her back. But after what I did to her—what we all did to her—I was no better than they were. In fact, I was the worst of all because Logan didn’t expect something like that to come from me.
“I didn’t deserve you as a friend, Logan. I can’t express how sorry I am for how things ended,” I finally said, wiping my eyes.
“Shit happens, right? Isn’t that what you used to always say when bad things happen?” she asked. I giggled. Logan didn’t curse often and when she did, it was usually to quote something I’d said. The only “curse” word she’d use was hell, and that was only when she was angry. Either way, it was always amusing when she said them. She’d always blush when she said a “bad word” and then giggle, as if it tickled her to be “bad.” God, she was just too good of a person, which was the main reason I carried my guilt about what broke down our friendship for so many years.
“Yeah, shit happens,” I said. “Your brother’s going to kill me, you know.”
She sighed. “Luther has always been an angry guy. He’s not as forgiving as I am,” she said.
“Then I guess I’ll be seeing you more often soon enough. Once he’s killed all my friends in the next few days, he’ll do the same to me.”
“Are you scared?” she asked. Her question caught me off guard. I wasn’t sure how I felt. I think I was more afraid of watching my friends die than I was of my actual death. I’d attempted to take my life a few times but was too scared to go through with it. A part of me was glad that Luther had finally caught me. I was so exhausted from constantly watching over my shoulder for him. I couldn’t take the nightmares anymore, the hallucinations, the paranoia that plagued my life. Maybe I was ready for him to make me pay so that I could finally release my guilt. Maybe I was ready for him to do what I couldn’t bring myself to do. But as I looked at Logan and thought about all the things she’d missed out on so far, like turning eighteen, going to college, growing up…I thought of how selfish it would be to want the easy way out after all I’d done.
“I don’t know,” I finally said. “It’s easy to want to die when you feel like you have control…but it’s hard to know what to feel when you’re actually staring death in the face.” I was quiet for a few moments, my gaze focused on the floor. “Were you scared?”
I saw her nod in my peripheral. “Yeah.” She was quiet for a moment. “The scariest part was right before I did it. But with my phone going off on the bathroom counter while I sat in the tub was just too much to handle. I thought if everyone hated me so much, maybe I was better off not being here.”
Sadness laced her voice and my heart broke knowing I’d caused that. She sighed and bowed her head before she continued speaking.
“But once it was done and I was laying there waiting for the end, I was sad. Sad that I wasn’t strong enough to get through to the other side. Sad that my parents were going to discover me and that would forever be a traumatic thing for them. Sad about what it would do to my only brother. Sad that you thought so little of me that you thought I’d do something to hurt you. Sad that you hated me so much that you’d hurt me like that.”
“I never hated you, Logan,” I said, a sob escaping from my lips. “That situation was 100% on me. It never should’ve happened, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for it. I live with that guilt every single day.”
“Well, we can’t change the past. All we can do is learn from it.” She reached up and gripped my arms, giving them a gentle squeeze. “You have to learn to forgive yourself, Sevyn. But now, you have to wake up.”
“Wait! Logan—”
I opened my eyes and took a deep breath before going into a coughing fit. Every part of my body ached, a burning sensation settling between my legs as the fog of sleep lifted. My throat hurt each time I swallowed, and it hurt too much to move in any direction. I tried to close my legs, whimpering when the pain down there nearly took my breath away. My entire body ached being on this uncomfortable mattress. My joints were stiff, and my muscles ached all over. It seemed like yesterday when I was in my own plush bed only having nightmares of the shit I was now experiencing. But no matter how many times I squeezed my eyes shut and chanted that I’d just had a bad dream, it didn’t change my current reality of being in my own personal hell.
Staring up at the chipped pain on the ceiling, tears burned my eyes. If death awaited me, I wished it would go ahead and come. You don’t deserve a quick and easy death, a small voice reminded me. I thought about my dream. Logan was so vivid in it and it felt so real. I didn’t realize how much I really missed her. I did think about her from time to time, mostly trying to push thoughts of her to the back of my mind. But to be in her room in my dream, to actually see her face again, it was soul crushing even though it was just a dream.
The door to the room opened, but I didn’t bother to look. I already knew it was Luther. I couldn’t bear to look at him after what he’d done to me. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out. There were no windows in this room to know if it was day or night. His footsteps echoed in the relatively empty room until they came to a stop next to me.
“You slept all night,” his deep voice said. I didn’t say a word. It wasn’t like I could. I felt as if someone had scrubbed the inside of my throat raw with the coarsest sandpaper they could find. He stood next to the bed, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at me with an expression that I couldn’t quite interpret. “Ready to choose which one of your friends will die today?”
I shook my head. I just couldn’t take on that responsibility. Seeing Carrie die yesterday was too much for me to bear and I wasn’t even the one who’d chosen her.
“Please don’t make me,” I croaked, my voice coming out barely above a whisper.
Luther only frowned down at me. “It’s so funny how you easily chose my sister as a victim with no hesitation, but you want to be a saint now and not be the cause of anyone’s death,” he stated, his voice tight. “Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t work like that. The rules are the same as yesterday. Either you choose someone, or you’ll face another punishment.” He looked down at my battered pussy and smirked. “And I’m sure you can’t handle my cock for a second day in a row.”
He was definitely right about that. Being a saint wouldn’t earn me any favors here. All that did was make my hell a lot worse. I couldn’t even say not picking anyone would mean that I wouldn’t have blood on my hands because that wouldn’t be true. I had blood on my hands the moment I wrangled my friends into my plans. Their blood was on my hands when my parents paid off a few jury members and the judge. Their blood was on my hands when Luther winked at me, promising me that he’d make me pay. It didn’t matter if I chose them or someone else; someone was going to die today just as someone did yesterday.
I swallowed hard, wincing. I’d have to think long and hard about what I wanted to do. Luther broke into my musings when he unlocked the cuffs around my wrists and yanked me to my feet. I cried out, the sound coming out weak and pathetic. My pussy burned like hell, my blood crusted on my thighs and on the bed.
“Before we do anything though, you need a shower,” he said as he pulled me along. “I can’t fuck a filthy whore in front of an audience if you make the wrong decision, now can I?” he taunted.
My eyes were sore from all the crying I’d done before. Even though I wanted to cry, I couldn’t even produce any tears. I stumbled alongside of him, pain coursing my body with every step I took. You have to choose someone today, I thought to myself. After what he did to me yesterday, my body couldn’t take anything else today. If choosing someone today meant that whatever he had in store for me wouldn’t be so severe, it was a possibility I had to consider. Taking my punishment yesterday didn’t stop Carrie from being killed. Luther made everything crystal clear; it was
my own fault if I made things harder for myself.
Tears sprung to my sore eyes when we walked up the steps to the main level of the house. Every time I stepped up, I felt as if I was ripping myself in half. Luther only looked at me with a raised brow when I grunted but made no kind of effort to actually help me. Why would I even expect him to? He’s the one that did this to me in the first place, I reminded myself. I ground my teeth and did my best not to focus on the pain, practically holding my breath until we were finally on the main floor. He pulled me down a short hall to a fully decorated bedroom. The bed frame was a dark wood poster frame, a soft queen mattress calling out to my aching body.
Luther chuckled when he saw what’d caught my attention. “Looks good after a night in the basement, huh?” he asked. I nodded. He stared at the bed before running a hand down his face. “I’ll tell you what. If you choose someone to die today, you can rest in it until tomorrow morning.”
I looked up at him. The amusement that colored his face frustrated me. He was playing on my pain and emotions to get me to do what he wanted me to do. It wasn’t fair in the slightest, but wasn’t that the whole point of this? To show us how unfair it was to his family that we basically got a slap on the wrist for what we’d done? I looked at the bed again. I can’t save anyone being a saint. After everything I went through yesterday, I definitely need it, I thought to myself.
“Just imagine it: getting to eat in a comfortable bed and actually eating a real meal instead of sandwiches like the rest of the girls. All you have to do is give me a name,” he said.
I frowned. How did I know this wasn’t a trick just to get me to choose? “Why would you reward me with a decent bed?” I croaked.
“Because watching your face when I kill whoever you choose will be the best reward you can give me. I feel it’s only best to return the favor, even if it’s something as simple as a bed for a couple of nights until I eventually end your life, too,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll give you some time to think about it when you shower.”
He pulled me into his bathroom. It was just as big as my bathroom in my condo. I wasn’t entirely sure what Luther did for a living exactly, but if he’d purchased this house, he definitely had a lot of money now. He didn’t say anything as he led me over to the large walk-in shower. I watched him as he turned on the water, a bit nervous about getting under the spray. With how sore my body was, the water almost looked painful. Considering the nonchalant look he had on his face, I assumed he didn’t care about my pain as long as I got clean. My eyes traveled around the room. Everything was white and sterile with black accents. Black towels. Black abstract pictures on the wall. Black wash cloths. Black cups on the sink holding a single toothbrush. The sunlight filtering into the bathroom caught my attention. A window, I thought, a bubble of hope growing inside of me.
“There are bear traps under every window of this place. The only safe place is out of the front and back door, and that’s only if you have the key to unlock it from the inside,” Luther said, as if reading my mind. He held his hand under the steaming water before nodding toward the shower. “Get in.”
I swallowed hard and slowly inched into the shower when he let go of me. The heat of the water was comforting, but it burned my open cuts and wounds. I jumped out of the water as Luther closed the shower door behind me. I could see his silhouette leaning against the bathroom counter, essentially blocking me in here. With a sigh, I grabbed a washcloth that was inside, the cotton material soft in my hands.
The water pounding against the bruises on my entire backside hurt like hell as I forced myself to stand under the spray. I winced as my hair became soaked, my scalp burning when the water hit the cuts on it thanks to the crown of thorns Luther made me wear yesterday. There were cuts and bruises to places I didn’t even realize until the water hit it. The back of my neck. My calves. I held back tears as I tried to wash the dried blood from between my legs. The soap burned even more. The pain felt as if I were washing myself with soap laced with acid or some kind of chemical meant to burn me even worse. Knowing Luther and his intention to hurt me in any way he could, I wouldn’t doubt it.
When I thought I was clean enough, I just stood under the water. I wasn’t sure when my next shower would be or if I’d get another one at all. I wished I was in my shower at home, that when I got out, I’d go into my bedroom, get dressed, and start my day. But the only thing waiting outside the shower door was a man who’d want to know what decision I’d make today; one I wasn’t ready to make.
A gust of cool air rose goosebumps on my skin before the water turned off. “Let’s go,” Luther ordered. I shivered a bit, wrapping my arms around myself as I got out. He roughly dried me with the plush black towel. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as he ignited my pain all over again, especially between my legs. He finally finished and tossed me another towel to dry my hair. My shoulders were still a bit stiff and sore from being bound above my head all night, but I dried my hair the best I could. He stared at me as I did, his face wiped of any emotion. I passed him the towel and he tossed it into a black laundry hamper.
He nodded toward the counter. “Put that on,” he said, his voice low. A white, silk nightgown and a pair of panties were there. I picked up a pad that sat on top of it and looked to him. He only shrugged. “I’d rather not have you bleeding all over the place while you’re wearing white.”
I ground my teeth. It’s your fault I’d be bleeding in the first place, asshole, I bitterly thought to myself, but I just put everything on as he instructed. I had bigger things to worry about, like what was on the agenda today. I had no idea what kind of painful death I’d be submitting one of my friends to by making the choice, which was even worse than the actual choice.
Luther led me out of the bathroom and through the bedroom until we were back in the hallway. My friends were being pulled from the basement, all of them looking a lot rough than they did the night before. I wasn’t sure what happened to them but based on the bruises on their faces and throats and the way some of them limped, they probably suffered the same way I did, which made my heart heavy. He waited until they’d all passed me before he tightened his grip on my upper arm and led me into the living room with the rest of them. The cross that was there yesterday wasn’t there, only a chair like the rest of my friends sat in. I fought the urge to whimper in pain when Luther pushed me into the chair and secured the cuffs around my wrists and ankles, putting the painful crown of thorns on my head as well.
“Welcome to day two, ladies,” he finally said when everyone was situated. No one said a word, so he continued. “Since I feel like I’ve established that Sevyn isn’t a god despite how you worshipped her, I didn’t think the cross was necessary.”
“You’re fucking psychotic,” Crystal mumbled. Her olive skin was covered in bruises: her neck, face, and arms sported blueish-green bruises, still fresh as the edges of them started to darken.
Luther chuckled. “I think everyone in this room is psychotic. I mean there’s no way you could’ve done what you bitches did and not think you also weren’t psychotic,” he mused and then looked to me. “But let me make this quick. I’m sure some of you had a rather eventful night last night and would much rather be in your rooms resting instead of being up here all day. So Sevyn, have you come to a decision?”
Anxiety overwhelmed me as I looked to my friends. I still didn’t know if I could trust Luther to keep his word. How in the hell was I supposed to pick? I cared about all of them and felt as if I were close to all of them. I didn’t know if I was strong enough to pick one of them now that I sat before them. I weighed the options I thought I’d have, but in reality, there were no options. Whether I chose or not, Luther would choose someone himself and kill them anyway. The only thing I’d get was another punishment and having to sleep on that hard bed in the basement.
But even if he doesn’t keep his word about the comfortable bed, I’ll still escape a punishment, I reminded myself. Luther snapped his fingers in front of my face.
“Hey space cadet, you wanna come join us back on Earth? Who’s your choice?” he asked. His voice has an edge of impatience and I knew if I didn’t choose one of my friends or choose to take another punishment, he’d make the decision himself.
I looked amongst my friends. I thought back to everything that happened yesterday. Remembering how my friends turned on each other at a drop of a hat. Then I remembered how Jamie basically said she’d used me because her parents needed the connections my family had. She was only going along with whatever I said to help her parents get ahead. Fucking typical for majority of the friends I’d ever had except Logan.
“Jamie,” I finally said, my voice trembling as I said her name loud enough for Luther to hear.
He smirked at me. “Look at you finally growing a pair of balls and doing what you’re supposed to,” he taunted and then looked to Jamie. “Looks like you’re the next contestant on Paying Luther’s Price.”
Jamie glared at me. “Of course you’d pick me,” she scoffed under her breath. I narrowed my gaze at her.
“Why are you surprised? I mean you were only friends with me to help your own family. Why should I care about someone who admitted to using me?”
“That was back then, Sevyn. I don’t think that way about you anymore,” she argued. I shook my head. That was what they always said when they had to face the consequences of using me. They of all people knew how spiteful I was. There was nothing I hated more than people using me or toying with my emotions. Now that I knew what I knew about her, I wouldn’t feel all that sorry when it was her time to go.
“You know the drill, Jamie,” Luther said. “Last meal request?”
“Fuck you! And fuck all of this! I don’t want your stupid last meal that’ll only make me have to wait in fear and anticipation before you decide to finally kill me,” she screamed, tears brimming her eyes.
The Destruction of Sevyn (The Vengeance of Luther Book 1) Page 15
