Carnage: A Dark Revenge Romance

Four Years Ago

I enter my bedroom to find Ashtyn still in my bed lying on her stomach. The fresh tattoo down her spine gets my attention.

I vow. You vow. We vow.

The three numbers I branded on her body weren’t enough for me. That’s a reminder she belongs to Carnage. I wanted something on her that was mine and something that she actually wanted. We settled on the vows we took last week.

“Good evening, sweetheart.” Reaching up, I grip the back of my shirt and rip it off my head.

“Sa-int.” She moans, her ass shakes back and forth trying to lift her hips off the bed. “Please…” She trails off.

“How many times have you come since I left you with that vibrator in your cunt?” I ask.

Before I left to go have a meeting with our fathers, I stripped the duvet and top sheet off the bed and tied her face down and spread eagled. I put a vibrator in her pussy and a butt plug in her ass.

“I haven’t.” She rubs her face into the fitted sheet while her body fights the ropes that keep her in place.

I smile. That’s because I’ve been controlling it from my phone while I was gone. I kept it on the lowest setting to drive her nuts. I wanted her soaking and begging by the time I returned. I’ve only been gone for an hour.

Walking over to my nightstand, I pull out what I want and finish getting undressed. Then I crawl onto the bed between her tied legs. I pull the butt plug out, and she whimpers as I toss it to the floor. Taking my hard cock in my hand, I pour the lube all over my length.

Her voice rings out as my cock pushes its way into her tight ass. It’s much bigger in size than the plug I had put into her, but my girl doesn’t mind. She enjoys the pain.

“Saint.” She pants, her arms yanking on the ropes while she buries her face into the bed.

I grab her hair and yank her head back. The sound of her scream makes my cock twitch inside her ass. My free hand picks up my cell next to me and turns up the vibrator, and the scream turns to moans and whimpers. With my knees, I spread her legs as wide as the ropes will allow, readjusting myself, then start to fuck her ass while she gets off.

“Such a good whore.” I praise her, leaning over her and wrapping my hand around her face from behind.

She may not have a choice at how her life turned out, but she chose me. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life reminding her that no other man could ever come close to what she needs. Even if that means I have to keep her tied to my bed twenty-four seven.

My hand rests on the marble wall as I stand in the shower. My eyes close as the water hits my face, remembering that day with Ashtyn.

Four years she’s been gone. And I still hate her as much as I did the day I was forced to choose—chase a ghost or give my life over to Carnage to save my brothers.

When she shot me, I was in denial. When I snapped out of that, I went feral. Filled with nothing but hatred and revenge. I’ve spent all that time trying to find her with no luck. No trace whatsoever.

Someone helped her.

Ashtyn is smart, but able to escape Carnage without help smart? No. I refuse to give her that much credit. Or maybe I just refuse to look that stupid.

Shutting off the shower, I get out and dry off. Looking at myself in the mirror, I wonder if she’d even recognize me if she saw me today. Four years is a long time.

Wrapping the towel around my hips, I tuck it into itself as my cell beeps, I have an incoming message from Kashton.

She’s ready.

I walk into my closet and get dressed before exiting my bedroom. We’ve been running Carnage for three and a half years now. And things are different than what they once were. Our fathers thought they taught us how to torture unlucky souls. They had nothing on Ashtyn. Her leaving us changed us all, and I can’t say it was for the better.

Exiting the elevator, I walk down the quiet hallway and shove open the door. Wide eyes meet mine, and she starts thrashing in the straitjacket Haidyn and Kashton placed her in. She mumbles nonsense through the gag in her mouth as spit flies out from around the black rubber ball. The stretcher she’s secured to rattles as she tries to loosen the straps that tie her down to it.

“Where’s Haidyn?” I ask Kashton who is over by the counter getting everything ready for our newest addition to Carnage.

“He got a phone call. Said he had to take it,” he answers.

I turn and look over at the two-way mirror. Every time I’m in here, I think someone is watching me.

The woman thrashes around, continuing to scream as loud as she can through the gag.

“Adrenaline?” Kashton asks.

“Nah,” I say, walking over to her. I place my hands on the stretcher and look down at her. Tears and snot cover the familiar face I haven’t seen in a long time. “How’s it feel?” I ask, yanking on the jacket. “Itches, huh?”

She closes her eyes as a sob racks her petite body. My eyes drop to her shaking legs and watch her pull on the straps that hold them open. The sound of the stretcher rattling echoes in the concrete room.

“I think a good twenty-four hours should be a good starting point. Kash?” I look up at him.

He nods. “At least.”

A lot has happened in the past four years. Any time the Lords have a chance to fuck up someone’s life, they take it. One of our good friends Tyson was one of those Lords. And a few weeks ago, his misfortune was our gain.

We sit in the cathedral in the middle of nowhere. The one where the Lords come to perform their rituals. A friend needed our help tonight, and we were more than willing to do so. A woman lies hogtied on the Lord’s altar in front of us, and she said the one word I never expected to hear.

“Ashtyn,” she calls out.

I’m instantly on my feet, not even thinking about it. I haven’t heard anyone say that name in so long that there are times I think she’s dead. Buried in the graveyard behind the cathedral. Long forgotten.

Tyson steps back, and I yank the knife from his hand. Shoving her onto her back, she screams as the hog-tied position smashes her folded body underneath her. I wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze, pinning her down.

I press the knife to the side of her face. “What the fuck did you just say?” I’m shaking with fucking rage. If she’s lying…

“Ashtyn…” She tries to catch her breath. “I know where she is.”

I squeeze harder, not believing her, and she thrashes around. “Bullshit,” I spit out, pushing the tip of the knife deeper into her face, breaking the skin.

She’s turning blue, her lips white. Her body softens as her struggle lessens.

A hand touches my arm, and my eyes snap to see Tyson standing next to me. “I want her dead, but just in case she knows something useful, she’s better alive for now.”

I release her neck and remove the knife, stepping back. She rolls onto her side and gasps for breath. “If you’re lying…”

“I’m not,” she cries, choking out sobs. “I promise.”

My heart hammers in my chest. For four years, I’ve wondered where the fuck Ashtyn would be. Who she’s with. If I’d ever see her again.

Now is my chance.

The woman’s sobbing brings me back from that memory. It was just a few weeks ago. We’ve let her sit, naked and chained in her cell while Tyson was able to get the answers he deserved.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know where Ashtyn was just yet. I’ve waited so long for her. There were times I just hoped she’d come back on her own. That she’d miss me so badly she couldn’t stand to be without me. But now that the answers are so close…?

My mind is filled with the what-ifs. Is she even still alive? If so, how has she survived so long on her own? Is she with someone? Does she have children? Am I prepared to take her away from any one of those things?

Abso-fucking-lutely. I will drag her back here kicking and screaming, removing her from anything she has accomplished while away from me. I’m going to strip her naked and remind her who the fuck owns her.

“Here you go.” Kashton hands me the branding iron.

I twirl the handle around in my hand as the woman’s cries grow louder. I lower it to her leg, just hovering over her skin letting her feel the heat but not burning her just yet, and it trembles in the restraints. I make my way up her body and across the straitjacket before hovering it over her face.

She cowers away, trying to look to the side, but the strap around her neck is too tight for that kind of movement. I take my free hand and dig my fingers into the leather strap of the ball gag and her cheek, yanking the rubber from her mouth, and her sobs immediately fill the room. “Pl-ease…”

I grip her chin, squeezing it so hard she whimpers, and shove her head back. She blinks rapidly while fresh tears roll down her dirty face. I hold the 666 branding iron right over her left cheek as I speak. “Where is my wife, Whitney?”

ASHTYN

I sit in the dressing room of the strip club. Tonight is particularly busy for a Thursday because it’s a themed mask night. Everyone, even the customers, come in dressed up with masks. Some are even dressed in full costumes.

My cell lights up, sitting on the counter in front of me, and I pick it up to see it’s an incoming call from BOSS LADY.

“Hello?” I sit back in my seat.

“Question.” The woman on the other end greets me.

“Shoot.”

“Monica called in tonight with the flu. Maggie is picking up her shift, but she can’t tomorrow…”

“I’ll take it.” I sit up straight, not even letting her finish asking me to work tomorrow night.

“Perfect. I’ll put you down. Thanks so much, girl.”

“Anytime,” I tell her, and she knows it. She’s changed my life for the best. When I didn’t think anyone would take a chance on a woman who was on the run, she did. She isn’t aware of what I’m running from. Never asked. When I tried to explain, she said I didn’t have to. The fact that I wanted a fresh start was all she needed to know. Something tells me she’s done the same thing.

“Damn, woman. You Daddy’s little girl tonight?” Destiny asks as she walks by me.

I lock my cell and set it down to look up at her in the mirror in front of me when she comes to stand behind my chair. I did my makeup like Harley Quinn.

My red-painted lips smile, and I say, “I’ll be whatever Daddy wants me to be.” Cliché, I know. But it’s fun to get to dress up every night of the week. I get to be someone else. It helps me forget who I once was. Ever since I ran from Carnage, I wear a mask that can never be removed. It’s a hard pill to swallow sometimes.

Bending over, I grab one of the fishnet thigh-highs and pull it up my freshly spray-tanned leg, getting it in place without tearing it before repeating the other. Then I slide on red six-inch fuck-me heels. Picking up the collar off the counter, I look over at Cherry. “Hey, will you put this on me, please?” I ask her.

“Of course.” She gets up, walks over to me, and I grab my dark hair in one hand while she steps behind me, fastening it in place. “Feel okay?” she asks, tugging on it to ensure enough room for me to breathe.

“No,” I answer honestly. It’s bulky and uncomfortable, but I paid a hundred and fifty dollars for it. “I’ll remove it after Benny leaves,” I tell her.

I considered buying a blond wig with pigtails but thought better of it. You already get so hot dancing under the lights that it would just drive me nuts. So, tonight I am a brunette Harley Quinn. I decide to keep it down because when you’re on stage, shaking your ass for cash, men like to see your hair.

I’ve always kept mine really long. It’s naturally dark, but years ago, I dyed it black. It’s so dark that when the light hits it just right, it glows blue.

A bleach-blond enters the dressing room and stops by my chair. “Jake dropped by.”

“Oh.” I sit up straighter, my hands clapping excitedly. “Did he bring gifts?”

Her black-painted lips widen into an evil grin. “He did.” She places her fist out, and I open mine underneath it. She drops two pills into mine before I close it, concealing what’s in it.

“Tell him I said thank you.”

Sadie laughs softly. “You can thank him later. He’ll be back with his friends.” Pushing off the wall, she plops down next to me.

She’s my best friend here at the club. Sometimes I feel guilty about how much I’ve lied to her. I feel like I’m pretending every day. She doesn’t know the real me; if she did, she probably wouldn’t be my friend.

I pop both pills into my mouth and sip on my Red Bull. I’m going to need both to get me through tonight. I worked last night and was up early this morning, running errands all day. I barely got three hours of sleep last night. I’m going to crash hard when I get home later tonight.

“Hey, Sadie, those two guys from last weekend are here talking to Bones,” Cherry tells her when she enters the room.

I look over at Sadie and ask, “The two who each gave you five grand?”

“Yep,” Cherry answers for her.

“God, they were so fucking fine.” Sadie sighs, slumping back in her chair.

I took last weekend off because of James. We live together but are currently in the middle of a breakup. I can’t get the bastard to move out of my place. I told him to pack his shit and go. He cried. Begged me to let him stay. Said he had nowhere else to go after he lost his job. That was six months ago. He prefers to live off me instead of going out and getting one on his own.

“They’re getting the room again. I just saw them walk to the back.” Cherry winks at Sadie.

“Hey, Luna, Benny is here,” Bentley calls out, entering with her G-string and garter belt overflowing with bills from just getting off the main stage.

“Thanks.” Sucking down what’s left of my Red Bull, I give Sadie a wink and walk out into the club. The music is loud, and the lights flash. I’m used to it by now. I’ve been working here for the past two years. I was working at another club here in Vegas when Glass opened. This one was just better all around—bigger and classier and my bosses are amazing.

You have to audition to be an entertainer in Nevada and get a license. Thankfully, when I ran from Carnage, I had help. I was given a new name and identity. Without that, I’m not sure where I’d be.

When I decided to start a new life, a stripper was the only option. You get to be someone else. Stage name, dress-up, and it’s like a girls’ night every night while you take money from men as you drink. If there’s anything better, let me know.

Plus, when you’re running from the Lords, you have to be assumed dead. If not, they will find you. I might have killed Saint, but the others will still be looking for me. And a Lord believes in blood for blood.

I started taking drugs to help me forget…what I gave up. What I ended up losing. And him. It didn’t work. But I realized that it did help me sleep, and in my dreams, I was able to live a different life. One where he wasn’t a Lord, and I wasn’t the coward who shot him. We were able to live happily ever after like you hear in fairy tales.

I walk up the three stairs and over to the round table where the guy sits. Benny always sits in the same section, same table, and orders the same thing to drink. He looks up from his phone to see me, and he swallows.

“Hey, handsome.” I plop down next to him.

Reaching over, he slides his hand between my legs and pulls mine to rest over his jean-clad thighs, across his lap. His lips near my ear, his voice rumbles. “Fuck, you look hot tonight, sweetheart.”

I still cringe whenever someone calls me that. It reminds me of Saint. I don’t know if I killed him, but he still has so much power over me it’s pathetic. At times, I think killing myself would have been easier than living a life without him. I wish he would have just killed me when I asked him. I ended up losing everything anyway.

I muster up a fake smile. “You look pretty good yourself.”

He didn’t dress up, but I didn’t expect him to. He’s a regular. He’s been coming into Glass to see me since opening night. I slept with him three months later for the first time. We’ve never been a couple or anything like that. He comes in regularly and sees me. Every now and then, he rents a suite in one of the hotels on the Strip, and I spend the night with him.

“How long before you go on stage?” he asks, his hand softly running up and over my upper thigh at the top of my thigh-highs.

“Thirty minutes,” I say.

He gives me a kind smile just as a server comes over to us. He orders himself a glass of scotch and me a Red Bull and vodka. I need another energy drink and for this ecstasy to kick in.

Technically, in the state of Nevada, if a strip club serves alcohol, the dancers aren’t allowed to be nude. But if you can serve alcohol, the club is more lucrative. So Glass doesn’t follow the law. But when you have two bosses like I do, they’re bound to bend the rules to their benefit. They’ve either paid someone off or just don’t give a fuck.