Carnage: A Dark Revenge Romance

I have a half brother. That new information doesn’t surprise me. What does is that he’s connected to Whitney and Laikyn. I spent an hour with her yesterday when she and Tyson showed up.

She didn’t seem to have much information for me, but she was willing to tell me what she knew, and that was more than Saint and the others have done.

She asked if I remembered the girls who went missing. When I told her yes, she informed me that Luke and my mother were involved, and that the guys think that’s why my mother was killed. It makes sense. My brother said that he was being framed. Maybe that was Luke trying to blame it on Adam. But that brings up another question—how was Whitney involved? I spent a lot of time with her and never noticed anything. But would I have? A lot happened in my life that I still hid from Whitney.

Then I find out that Laura and Whitney are both here at Carnage. They’ve been right underneath me all this time, and I had no idea. I hated Laura, but that doesn’t mean I think she deserves to be down there. Did I agree with the things she did and said to me? No. But I know the Lords, and maybe they controlled her? Maybe the Spade fathers forced her to make me do my sessions? And she knew things that no one else did…if not for her, my life would have gone much differently, and I’m not sure that would have been better. If I had stayed here and told Saint I was pregnant and it wasn’t his child, me and the baby wouldn’t have had a chance. That’s all I wanted—to give my child a chance at a better life. I even failed at that.

The truth is I don’t know what to think anymore. At this point, I’m not sure what is up and what is down.

Besides my mother, I don’t know what happened to my family. Hell, as far as I know, Adam is down in the basement as well. Would they do that to one of their brothers? Yes. I have no doubt. If you don’t honor your oath, you’re punished. It’s that simple.

It was great seeing Elli. I was never close with her, but I remember seeing her when my mom would drag me to her sessions with Laura. Her practice was out of her home, and I’d see her often while sitting in the hallway when my mother would need a moment alone with Laura.

My mother told me to stay away from her because she was a bad influence. I’m not sure why she thought that, but we never hung out. She was four years younger than me.

I sit on the floor in my bedroom, just staring at the damn clock that continues to tick loudly. I’ve been in here since I stormed out on Saint yesterday in their office. I’m trying to clear my mind and figure out where I go from here, but I know the answer. Nowhere.

We took vows, I willingly became his wife, but I will rot here as his prisoner. He hasn’t even given me my ring back. I know he saw that I was wearing it at Glass when he showed up. And I took it off later that night before I got in the shower. He was lying to me here when we got into our fight after New York. He doesn’t care. He’s a Lord; he’s been trained what to say and when to say it to make you feel special or hated. And like he said, I’m easily manipulated.

Nothing has changed. And it never will. He’ll keep shit from me, and I’ll do the same to him. Sometimes, the truth just doesn’t matter.

The seconds on the clock move ever so slowly, the sound so loud it makes me cringe with each movement.

Tick, tick, tick, a constant reminder that there is no end in sight. Just an endless amount of torture. I’m in a loveless marriage, I get ignored, I get used…it’s a typical marriage in our world.

You’re nothing special. My mother had said to me. I hate that she was right more than anything.

At least when I first got here, he fucked me. As stupid as it sounds, it made me feel useful. Now he’s ignoring me. That’s my punishment.

Tick, tick, tick. The clock mocks me, and my watery eyes look up at it. Tick, tick, tick. Second by second, I sit here in a room and his is down the hall. I haven’t even been inside of it. I might as well be locked up in the basement. At least then, I’d know where I belong.

Tick, tick, tick. I get to my feet, pick up the chair that sits at the round table by the double doors to the balcony, and throw it at the fucking wall. It hits the clock, shattering it before it falls to the floor.

I’m breathing heavily, looking over the broken glass, and I realize I’m that clock. Broken. It’s just time that I quit trying to be a good girl. He’s made up his mind, and I have done the same. But him bringing me back had me second-guessing my decision four years ago. I need to get back to her. Fuck him and fuck this life. It doesn’t get any better.

I’ve always been a puppet. For him, for my mother, for the Lords. We’re just meant to be used. Sex makes you feel things. Another line my mother once told me. After I left Saint, I told myself that was a lie because the other guys I were with never made me feel what Saint had. She was right again.

Sighing, I walk away from the shattered clock and make my way to the bathroom. I need a bath, and then I’m going to find something to get high with. Or drunk. I need something, and I don’t care if Saint finds out or not.

I stand out on the balcony, overlooking the dark night. It’s amazing how far you can see when there’s light but nowhere to look in the dark. The fact that I ever thought I’d have a life with a man who loved me for me and wanted me to give him children is stupid really. From the moment I was hidden here, I knew my life would never be the same, and I was an idiot to think it’d ever be anything different. Better.

We don’t all get the same chances in life. I was raised that we have the better life, but it was bullshit.

I hear my door open, and I don’t even bother to turn around and see who it is. I don’t have to. It could only be one person, and he’s the last one I want to see right now.

He remains silent as he walks out onto the balcony and comes to stand beside me. Placing his forearms on the railing, he leans over, overlooking the woods.

“What do you want, Haidyn?” I ask tightly. He’s done nothing but avoid me since I returned. I know why, and I get it, but why pretend now?

“I want to take you to dinner.”

I snort.

“I’m serious, Ashtyn.”

The sincerity in his voice has me facing him, and he does the same, turning toward me. I stare up into his dark blue eyes, and he reaches out his hand, his knuckles brushing the hair from my tear-streaked face. He doesn’t say anything, and I hold my breath when he leans forward and softly kisses my forehead.

“Get ready. We leave in thirty minutes.” With that, he turns and exits my room, giving me no chance to argue.

Maybe Saint left me behind for this very reason. To spend time with Haidyn. If Saint knew the truth about my past with his brother, that’s the last thing he would have done.

My hair is still damp from my recent bath so I quickly dry it and decide to put it up in a ponytail. Once done, I put on some foundation, blush, mascara, and gloss, calling it good. I’m walking out of my closet after getting dressed when my door opens promptly at eight thirty.

Haidyn enters and comes to a stop. He shoves his hand into the pockets of his black dress slacks as his eyes drop to my heels and run up over my exposed legs. They slowly rise to meet mine, and I nervously rub my sweaty hands on my thighs.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod, turning to my nightstand. I go to grab my cell but pause. Why do I need it? Saint’s not going to contact me, and I already did my daily call with Jasmine. So I turn and head for the door as he follows me.

We make our way down the hallway and to the elevator. Silently, we ride down to the first floor. We pass Jessie as we exit the front double doors, and he stops to have a word with Haidyn, but they speak too quietly for me to hear what words they exchange.

Haidyn holds the door open for me, and I softly thank him as we step outside onto the porch. A black Escalade SUV is parked out front in the circle drive. A man stands at the back-seat door and opens it for me. We both thank him as we climb in.

It’s captain seat style on each side facing the center. I take the seat with my back to the driver. Haidyn sits across from me.

The car begins to move, and Haidyn pulls his cell from his suit jacket to text someone. My first thought is that it’s Saint. He’s telling him how bad I look. Or how mopey I’ve been since Saint left me.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “Why are we here?” I blurt out in the silence.

He looks up at me from his phone. His fingers pause over the keys. “Because of our fathers—”

“I don’t mean life.” I interrupt him. “Right here. Right now.” He knows I’m not talking about the Lords. “Why are we going to dinner, Haidyn? You’ve avoided me since I’ve returned. Why the sudden interest?” I cross my arms over my chest.

His eyes are trained on mine, and I shift in my seat. The Spade brothers have a way of making you feel naked when you’re fully dressed. He drops his eyes to his phone and returns to texting. After a few seconds, he pockets his cell and looks back at me. “I wanted a better life for you.”

My stomach drops. They sound so much like my mother. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I roll my eyes, acting like his words don’t bother me.

“I’ve always loved you, Ashtyn.”

My pulse races. “Haidyn—”

“Not in the sisterly love sort of way because that would be gross. Considering I’ve fucked you.” His eyes drop to my crossed legs, and I shift in the leather seat. “Also, not enough to want to spend the rest of my life with you.” I frown, and he chuckles. “Romantic, right? You were supposed to be my chosen.”

“No—”

“You were.” He interrupts me. “Your father had a meeting with mine. I walked in on them discussing our future. I said I wouldn’t do it. At the time, I knew that Saint was obsessed with you. He was always watching you, and when you weren’t around, you were all he ever wanted to talk about. Every move you made, he knew, therefore we all knew as well. You couldn’t hold a conversation with him that didn’t turn to you at some point.”

I scoot closer to the edge of my seat.

“My father didn’t give a shit what I wanted.” He laughs. “Surprise. You were going to be mine. I thought I wasn’t going to have a choice. But one day, I overheard a phone conversation. Saint had already gone to your father, and it was decided that you would be given to Saint.”

“What was the deal that my father proposed?” I ask.

“Does it matter?” He shakes his head, answering his own question. “Not anymore.”

“Of course, it does,” I snap.

“What? You going to leave Saint?” He laughs at his own question. “You already tried that once.” His eyes drop to my chest this time, and I take in a deep breath. “A little piece of advice. If you plan on trying that again, make sure to kill him. Otherwise, you’ll never get away with it.”

I sit back in my seat and huff. Glaring out of my window, I watch as the trees go by too fast to count.

“Why do you think I did what I did that night?” he speaks again.

I look back at him before my gaze drops to my hands.

“You never thought about it?”

About why he did what he did? No. I was raised not to question the Lords. There are no rhymes or reasons. It just is. “I just thought—”

The driver interrupts me. “Sir?”

“Yeah?” he asks, looking over my shoulder.

“We’ve got company. Two black SUVs and a black cargo van.”

Haidyn spins around to look out the back glass. “Shit,” he hisses. “Get over here and put your seat belt on,” he barks at me.

I scramble to get over next to him and buckle up, my heart suddenly racing. “Do you know who it is?” I rush out.

“No.” He gets down on his knees and pulls out a drawer that seems to be underneath the seat I was sitting in. Several guns are inside, and he pulls one out. He checks the chamber and the magazine before returning to his seat. “Lose them,” he commands the driver while removing his suit jacket.

“Yes, sir,” the driver says and then hits the gas.

My seat belt tightens across my chest.

“Ash—”

We’re hit from behind, slamming us forward. The seat belt sits so high on my neck that it chokes

me.

“I said fucking lose them!” Haidyn snaps at the man.

“Trying to, sir…”

We’re hit again, and Haidyn’s arm lands across my chest to hold me back as if my seat belt isn’t going to do its job.

“Here.” Haidyn leans over the back bench seat. Then he’s removing my seat belt and placing something over my head. “What is this?” I ask, my hands shaking.

“It’s a bulletproof vest.” He pulls the Velcro across my chest and stomach so tight I can barely breathe.

“Where’s yours?” I ask when he sits back in his seat, but he ignores me. “Haidyn?” I grip his hand, digging my nails into his tattooed arm. My wide eyes meet his, and he looks much calmer than I feel. “You need…”

“I’m fine, baby girl. Put your seat belt back on,” he orders before moving to the other seats that face us. He leans over into the front of the SUV and talks quietly with the driver. One hand holds the gun while the other points out to the road as he gives instructions.

My wide eyes look around to see what’s going on, but the SUVs and the cargo van are gone. Nothing but the dark night around us. I let out a shaky breath and sit in my seat. Running my sweaty hands down my bare thighs. My feet bounce up and down, and now I wish I had brought my cell with me so I could call Saint. Even if I know he won’t answer, maybe it would make me feel better.

Haidyn looks at me over his shoulder. “Put your seat belt on!” His eyes glare at me.

“It’s fine. They…” The sound of crunching metal cuts off my words. My body is thrown forward, and I feel like I hit a brick wall. Something covers my face, taking away my sight. A loud ringing takes over my hearing, and I feel like I’m rolling down a hill.

I can’t breathe. As if a weight is sitting on top of me. My sight is still restricted. Voices start to clear the ringing sound, and I blink rapidly to see Haidyn on top of me. His hands are on either side of my face. He’s got blood running down his.

His body pins mine down while something sharp digs into my back, and I wonder if that’s why I can’t breathe. His mouth moves, but I can’t hear anything he’s saying.

My hands try to push him off me, but when he doesn’t budge, I hit the thing strapped to my chest. I rip one of the Velcro off, and he sits up, undoing the others.

I manage to suck in a breath, arching my neck the best I can, and my lungs burn.

“Ashtyn?” he shouts. “Ashtyn. I’m going to pull you out.”

I don’t understand what he means or why we’re lying on the ground. But before I can say anything, he grabs my arm and yanks me through broken glass. Then I’m looking up at a sky full of stars. The world seems to spin around and around.

“Ash?” Haidyn’s voice makes me flinch. Then hands are on me. I’m pulled to a sitting position, and I stare into his blue eyes. There are four of them. “What hurts?” he demands. His hands push some strands of hair from my face that my ponytail no longer holds up.

Hurt? Am I supposed to be hurting?

“Breathe!” he commands, and I try to push him away, but he grips my face in both hands, placing his face in front of mine. “Fucking breathe, Ash. Come on, baby girl. Take in a deep breath for me.”

My vision goes blurry, and I realize I’m crying. When I blink them away, he comes back into focus. His pretty eyes dart back and forth between mine. I part my lips and manage to suck in a sharp breath. It feels like I’ve swallowed a ball of fire, making me choke. I begin to cough.

“That’s it.” He nods his head. “Deep breaths. One after the other.”

“Hai-dyn.” My body trembles in his hands.

“Don’t fucking talk, Ash. Just breathe for me.”

My hand goes to my burning chest, and I yank at my dress. “Burns…” I manage to say between gasps.

“You’re okay. It’s okay.” He runs his knuckles down my face, wiping my tears away.

“You’re bleeding,” I whisper.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Hai—”

I’m yanked up from the ground by my hair, and a scream is ripped from my mouth at the sting in my already pounding head. An arm wraps around my neck from behind, pinning me to a strong body. I try to fight, but I’m too weak.

Haidyn slowly gets to his feet and lifts his hands into the air. “Let her go.”

My hands dig into the arm choking me as my body fights the best it can. The process has my dress rising up my thighs.

A dark laugh makes the hairs on my neck rise. “Haidyn. It’s good to see you again.”

“Let her go!” he shouts, stepping forward.

Something hard and sharp pushes into the side of my cheek. “What would Saint have to say if he knew what you’ve done to his girl?” the man who holds me asks.

Haidyn’s jaw sharpens as his eyes go to mine, then rise to meet the man behind me.

“Get in the van,” the man orders Haidyn.

“I’ll go with you, but she stays behind.” He nods to me.

“Hmm, as tempting as that is, that’s not happening.”

Haidyn runs a hand down his bloody face. “Then you can go fuck yourself.”

The man laughs once more before he holds out his right hand, and a loud noise has me covering my ears. I blink to see Haidyn standing in front of us, and the next moment, he’s lying on the ground, face down.

I start kicking and screaming. My throat’s on fire as I don’t even recognize my own voice. “Get him in the van,” the man orders, dragging me across the broken glass and metal that covers the road.

“HAIDYN!” I scream, watching two men pick him up.

I’m thrown into the back of the black cargo van, and I go to jump out, but my hair is grabbed once more, and I’m shoved down onto my stomach. A shoe digs into my back as the side of my face is smashed into the floor that smells like vomit and piss. I’m kicking and screaming the best I can as my arms are grabbed and brought behind my back. Something wraps them, securing them tightly. Then I’m hauled to my feet and shoved onto a bench.

I watch as two men toss Haidyn inside, and he lands on his back. He’s been shot. His button-up is soaked in blood, and I fall to my knees next to him as the doors are closed.

“Haidyn?” I cry, fresh tears clouding my vision. “Help him.” I fight whatever they tied my wrists with, knowing I need to apply pressure to his wound, or he’ll bleed out.

“If he dies, he dies.” Someone chuckles.

I raise my head to look up at a man sitting on the opposite bench. He’s got a black mask on and a leather jacket with matching gloves. Who are these men? “Saint and Kashton are going to kill you for this,” I spit out. Me? No one gives a fuck about me. But Haidyn? He’s a Spade brother. A Lord. And no one goes after a Lord.

He slaps me across the face so hard it knocks me over. My body lands across Haidyn’s. Laughter fills my ears as pain explodes behind my eyes. “You should worry about yourself, bitch. We’ve got plans for you, and you’re not going to like any of them.” More laughter.

A hand gently touches my hair, and I expect it to yank me to my feet. But when it doesn’t, I look up through watery lashes to see it’s Haidyn’s. He’s weak, but his eyes are open. I watch his chest rise and fall slowly, and I sniff. “I’m sorry, baby girl,” he whispers.

I begin to cry harder, my shoulders shaking as my nose runs. I’m still having trouble breathing, and my chest aches.

“Shut her up,” a man calls out.

I’m yanked from Haidyn and forced to sit on the bench, and I watch his hand fall to his side as his eyes close.

“Open wide, bitch!” A man laughs before something is shoved into my mouth, not even giving me the chance to fight.

SAINT

Kashton and I are two hours into our flight. I’m sitting on the couch, answering emails on my laptop while Kashton watches porn on his without earphones. The woman fake moaning while the sound of the guy’s dick fucking her sloppy wet pussy fills the private jet. Prick. Like I want to listen to that shit right now. I’m fighting with Ashtyn; therefore I haven’t fucked her since we returned from New York. But what’s new? Story of my life.

An email notification pops up on the screen, and I choose to ignore it while I finish typing out what I was in the middle of. Once done, I open it up.

Sweetheart.

“What the fuck is this shit?” I bark out, getting Kashton’s attention.

“What?” he shuts his laptop.

“Not sure.” I grab the remote off the table and turn on the flat screen that hangs on the wall. I pull up my email and go to the most recent one, pressing play.

A humming sound fills our private jet from the speakers that hang above us as a large concrete room comes onto the screen. The lights buzz, and boots slapping on the floor echo.

“That’s Carnage,” Kashton states, getting to his feet.

The camera is placed on what looks to be a counter. It shows a metal table in the middle of the room. It’s got strategically placed medical restraints—black and white leather belts around it—from one side to the other—to strap something down. Or more like someone. I know because we’ve used it before. On people we’ve tortured. On Ashtyn.

The door on the opposite side of the room squeaks open. The noise is so loud it hurts my ears. A man enters the space. He’s dressed in all black. Combat boots and cargo pants with a chain linking his belt loop to a back pocket. He’s got a gun strapped to his thigh. Looks to be a .45 in a holster. A long-sleeve T-shirt with a vest over his chest and back. It reminds me of a bulletproof vest that a SWAT member would wear. But it doesn’t say that. He’s got a mask on that covers his face.

“Who the fuck is this?” Kashton demands. I don’t answer because my guess is as good as his.

He walks over to the far counter and opens drawers and cabinets, placing items on a rolling cart next to him. He knows where everything is, which makes me nervous. Reaching up, he presses the button to the radio he has on his vest. “Bring her in,” he commands, letting go of it. His voice is altered, so I can’t tell who it is.

I really wasn’t sure what we were watching until now, and my heart races with nervousness. Fear. Of what we’re about to watch.

“Fuck,” Kashton hisses. “We’re going back.” He storms toward the front of the plane to give the pilot his new orders.

My eyes stay glued to the fifty-inch TV, praying this is some joke. That the her being brought in won’t be Ashtyn.

The guy on the screen grabs a few more things from a drawer and pulls out a few packaged items. He rips the package open and places the them on the cart, arranging them so everything has its own place.

The door opens once more, and two men enter. They’re dressed identically to the guy already in the room. Not a single piece of skin showing on their bodies.

One walks backward while he holds the ankles of a woman. The other guy walks forward, his arms wrapped around her upper body.

My fear that it wasn’t going to be Ashtyn has my breath catching when I see the woman they’re dragging in.

She struggles in their grasp. Her body rocks back and forth as she bucks and tries to free herself, but it’s useless. The only thing she wears is a hood over her head. She’s naked and the 666 I branded on her is clear as day. Our fathers made me do it to remind her who she was, that it was her cross to bear in a way. Now it’s a beacon for anyone who wants to hurt me.

“Shit,” Kashton hisses, running back to me and catching sight of the TV.

She struggles helplessly, and by the sound of her lack of voice, I’d say she’s gagged underneath the hood that they have tied around her neck.

They shove her into the side of the table, bending her over it while one of the guys holds her down with a hand at the back of her neck. The other removes a knife from his pocket and cuts the zip tie that holds her wrists behind her back.

Before she even gets the chance to fight with her hands, they toss her onto the metal table, slamming her down. She goes to roll over and pull her knees up into a ball on her side, but the two men waste no time strapping her down in the restraints. White leather cuffs are wrapped around her wrists and secured down by her side to the table. Black leather belts are secured around each ankle, forcing her to keep her legs open. Another one is strapped across her upper shoulders, securing her chest and head down.

“When was this taken?” Kashton demands.

“I…I don’t know.” My eyes quickly drop to my laptop. “I just got it. How far out are we?” I ask him.

Shrugging, he shakes his head. “Don’t know. Told him to turn the fuck around. He wanted to argue, saying we couldn’t. I punched him in the goddamn face and said just fucking do it.” He drops to the chair next to mine and grabs my laptop, getting to work on the email to see if he can track it.

“She’s ready for you,” the first guy who entered says into his radio.

Time seems to slow as I watch her lie naked and strapped to the table as they watch her. My eyes scan her body, noticing she has bruises on her thighs, a cut on her arm, and dirt on her knees. What the fuck happened since I left her?

A fourth guy enters the room, dressed like the others, wearing a mask and gloves. Not a single inch of skin is showing. ACE is written across his vest. He walks right up to the table, and his mask tilts down to look at her. “How was she?” he asks as the original guy rolls the cart over to him.

“Fucking handful.” One laughs, reaching down and slapping her breast.

She arches her back the best she can and fights the restraints, the sound amplified in the cabin over the engines.

Ace slowly pulls another strap out from the other side of the table and lays it across her lower stomach. “Feed that through,” he tells the other guy who slides his end through the metal ring and then hands it back to Ace. He pulls it tight, pinching her skin, and buckles it as well. “That should be enough. Not like she’ll put up much of a fight.” They all laugh. “Will you, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning his mask-covered face down toward the hood that covers hers. “Let’s get started.”

She continues to thrash around the table as he dunks what looks like a washcloth into a glass bowl full of liquid. He wrings it out and then runs it over her heaving chest and flat stomach. She’s got dried blood on her, making me even more confused. What the fuck happened before they brought her into this room?

Then he moves it to her pussy, making her jump and fight once more. She’s wearing herself out. She’s doing what they want her to do. Once satisfied, he begins going over each leg.

He’s washing her. Then he tosses the washcloth back into the now bloody bowl and picks up a dry one. He dries her off while her struggle gets weaker and weaker every second.

He tosses it to the side, and it falls to the floor. Then he walks over to the counter and grabs a knife. My heart hammers as he goes back over to her and places his hand on her hip. “This is going to hurt,” he tells her. “But as long as you stay still, it’ll be over sooner rather than later.”

Her body jerks as he presses the tip into her skin, forcing it to split.

It’s the first time I’ve heard somewhat of a noise from her gagged mouth. It’s almost a faraway scream, making my chest tighten. Her body tenses, pulling tight on the restraints that hold her down.

Blood runs down the side of her body before he presses two fingers into the now open skin and removes the one thing I had that guaranteed I would never lose her again. He drops the tracker to the floor and stomps on it with his black combat boot.

He then turns back to the cart and picks up a black device that makes Kashton jump to his feet. I can’t seem to find the strength to stand. He presses it to her skin and gives her three staples, trying to close the wound he just opened as she shakes violently, the gagged screams seem louder than the last.

“Such a good girl,” he tells her, and her naked body sags into the metal table. “You deserve a reward for that.” Picking up something off the cart, he then pops the top on a tube of lube. He pours it all over the pink egg and then stands. He runs his fingers between her legs, and once again, she fights. He begins to finger fuck her, forcing her body to rock on the table. Her neck and back arch, and her hands fist. “That’s it.” His distorted voice coos. “Such a good whore. Aren’t you, sweetheart? You had no problem coming for me before. Come on my fingers, love. Come all over them. Show me how much you like it.”

“Who in the fuck is this, Saint?” Kash shouts.

It has to be… “James,” I answer.

“No way. We killed him,” Kashton argues with me. “Plus, even if he had still been alive when we left with her, how the fuck would he have access to Carnage? Or know where her tracker was?”

“There’s no one else it could be,” I grind out. Someone she’s fucked? That list could be long, considering she’d been on the run for four years. I never asked for a list because I liked the idea that she’d ever only been with me, Haidyn, and Kashton.

“Where the fuck is Haidyn?” He pulls out his cell and starts calling him. “Voicemail,” he growls, throwing it to the floor of the plane.

The man removes his fingers and slaps her cunt, making her flinch. He steps back, and she sags into it. After a second, he slides the egg into her. After wiping his fingers just inside her on her bare chest, he picks up his cell and hits a few buttons. She starts rocking back and forth, fighting once more, fighting the vibrating toy inside her.

He picks up a marker and removes the lid. He writes WHORE across her upper chest. Then FUCK ME next to the 666 on her pelvic bone. BITE ME on her right thigh and USE ME on her left thigh.

“Look how pretty you are.” He tosses it to the side as well. Reaching up, he grabs her breasts, and her hips buck. “Fuck, I’ve missed these.”

“It has to be James,” I whisper, not believing it could be anyone else.

“Here…how about a little more. I want you to enjoy it.” Grabbing his cell, he turns up the vibrator, and she’s practically convulsing on the table at this point. “That’s more like it.”

The other three laugh, reminding me that they’re in the room. They stand at the foot and head of the table in their masks, watching her. Enjoying the show. The third leans up against the countertop with his arms crossed over his chest.

“We’re almost done,” Ace tells her, but I doubt my wife can hear him. Between the hood over her head, the gag in her mouth and the vibrator in her cunt, her senses are heightened. “You’re doing so good.”

His mask looks up to the head of the table when he speaks. “Go get the crate.” Then he looks at the one who stands at her feet. “Help me out.” He unclasps the ankle that’s next to him while the guy follows his lead.

She kicks her legs since they’re free, but Ace grabs them, wraps his arm around her knees, and shoves them up to her chest. “Hold them,” he barks as she tries to fight him.

The other guy rushes to the side of the table to take his place. Once Ace thinks he has it under control, he walks over to the counter and opens a top drawer. He removes a butt plug and lube. He pours it all over the black silicone. So much so that it slides down the sides and onto the floor. “I’m being generous, love,” he tells her as if she fucking cares. “Some don’t get this courtesy.”

Walking back over to her, he stands at the end of the table, legs wide, and runs his fingers along her ass.

“Shit,” the other guy hisses, locking her legs in place as her hips buck off the table, making it rattle.

“Got her?” Ace asks, sounding impatient.

“Yeah.” The other man’s mask nods. “I’m good.”

“Just lie back and relax, sweetheart,” Ace tells her before he pushes the butt plug into her ass, making her body rattle the table as it fights. Ace chuckles once it’s in and stands up straight. “You didn’t mind when I fucked it, baby.” He slaps her ass cheek, and his laughter grows. “You begged me, remember? Your ass was up in the air, and you were on the verge of tears. You were so fucking needy for me to take it.”

He reaches up and motions with his glove-covered fingers for the other guy to release her legs. He pushes them down, and they redo the ankle restraints before she even has a chance to fight them.

Ace walks back over to the side of the table, facing the camera. He reaches out and runs his glove knuckles down her chest, making her back arch up off the table at his unwanted touch. “We had fun, didn’t we, baby?” he asks her, slapping the side of her breast.

He reaches down at her neck and undoes the hood’s string. There’s a reddened mark from how tight it was on. He pulls the hood slowly off her head. A cloud of dark hair covers her face, stuck to her skin from tears, snot, and drool.

She’s sobbing behind her gag, and he places his mask-covered face down to hers. “Shhhh. Shhh, darling. You’re okay,” he tells her, his hands pushing her hair from her face so he can see her.

He grips her cheeks and turns her head to the side, forcing her to look toward the camera. Red-rimmed blue eyes stare at mine, and my breath catches in my lungs.

“What the fuck?” I hear Kash bark, but I ignore him.

“Remove the vibrator,” Ace orders the guy who stands at the end of the table. He reaches between her tied legs and pulls it out, making her slump against the table, and he holds it up. “Show her. Show our whore how much she liked it.”

The guy walks over to the head of the table and holds the wet egg over her face, smearing the wetness onto her cheek, and she shakes her head, screaming into the gag that’s buckled tightly around her face, pinching her cheeks.

“So fucking good, huh?” Ace asks and slaps her cheek before rubbing the drool, snot and tears all over her face. “Such a good fucking whore.” He laughs, and she arches her neck, body shaking from her sobs.

Her eyes close tightly, and tears run down the side of her face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to put it back in.” He turns her face to look up at him, and he slides two fingers down between her tied-open legs and pushes them into her.

She blinks rapidly, fresh tears falling from the corner of her eyes.

“I should keep you for myself, but this isn’t about me.” He removes them, and a sob wracks her naked body.

The door squeaks open, making her jump, and the guy who left earlier enters once more, pushing what looks to be a wooden box into the room that sits on a rolling cart. “See that, baby? That’s all yours.”

Then he looks at the guy who rolled it in. “Get it ready,” he orders. “I’m going to plug her cunt back up.” He goes to the end of the table and easily slides the egg back into her. Grabbing his cell, he presses a few buttons, and her hips begin to lift off the table, fucking the toy inside her while she sobs uncontrollably.

The other two remove the top and side of the wooden box.

My eyes go back to Ace, and he’s got a syringe in his hand. Pulling the plunger, he fills it with a clear liquid. Then he walks over to her and sinks it into her neck. “It’s not going to make you pass out. Just relax you,” he tells her, and she blinks, her eyes already getting heavy. “Enjoy having all of your holes filled, sweetheart.” He runs his glove-covered knuckles down her tear-streaked cheek.

Her body relaxes into the table, and he undoes her restraints; she no longer fights. Instead, her head falls to the side, her heavy eyes on the camera. She doesn’t even blink. She looks dead. The only sign she’s alive is the soft movement of her exposed chest.

He rolls her over onto her stomach, bending her legs to where her heels touch her bare ass. He wraps a belt around them, securing them tightly. He picks her limp body up and places her in the middle of the box on her stomach. Her heavy eyes are still on the camera as her head is to the side.

Her arm dangles out of the side of the box, and one of the guys picks it up, pushing it behind her back, where Ace does the same. They wrap a rope around her wrists, tying them together and then securing the extra to her ankles.

“Place the top on,” Ace orders.

And the other two lift the wooden top, placing it over the three sides. There’s a metal hook screwed to the top of it. Ace pulls out a double hook that I once gave her and places it through the rope that ties her wrists together, connecting her tied wrists to the top of the crate. She won’t be able to move inside it. At all.

He then lifts her head up by her chin. Drool runs out of the gag, and her heavy eyes are unfocused. “Be a good whore and come all over that toy. Can you do that for me?’

She doesn’t respond in any way. He lets go of her face. Her head falls to the bottom of the box, and she blinks. Her lashes are slow to open this time.

“Close her up,” he commands as he turns to face the camera.

The two guys put the side piece on, and just like that, she’s gone. Tied up and put away in a box like a doll. To be stored in the attic. A lock is put in place as if she has any chance of freedom.

“Do I have your attention, Saint?”

My name echoes in my ears as I watch the other two wheel her out of the room, the door closing behind them.

“I only gave her enough to keep her comfortable for about an hour. It’ll start to wear off. She’ll eventually realize she’s been buried alive in the Pennsylvania woods.” Her worst fear. “She’ll then panic. Do you think she’ll run out of oxygen first and suffocate? Or do you think she’ll vomit and choke on it? Doesn’t matter, really.” He laughs. “This was all recorded an hour ago. I waited for you to get two hours away before I sent you the video. It’ll take at least two hours to get back. She should be coming around anytime now. You’ll look for her, of course.” He steps closer to the camera. “I hope you find her. I truly do.” He steps even closer. “Because I want you to know what it feels like to hold the woman you love dead in your arms.” And with that, he turns and exits the room.

“FUCK!” Kash throws his laptop across the room, and it hits the screen that still shows the footage of inside the room. It’s empty other than the table she was strapped to and the cart that he used to hold all the devices he used on her.

I stare at it. Not sure what I expect to happen but waiting for something. Anything.

“Saint?” Kash shoves my shoulder, and I blink.

I fall onto the seat and pull out my phone. I dial up the one number I can think of to help. He answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Saint…”

“I need your help.” I rush out, getting to my feet, and start pacing. I place him on speakerphone when he speaks.

“Name it.”

“I’m sending you a video.” I nod to Kash, and he starts typing away on my laptop since he destroyed his. “I’m in the air. Too far away. But I need you to watch it and tell me if there’s anything you can do. Something we might have missed.”

“I have the guys here. Can they watch it as well?” Tyson asks. I’m not sure who the fuck he means by guys, but I’ll take all the help I can get.

“Yeah.” I swallow the knot in my throat.

“Got it. Starting it now.” I hear the sound of the video in the background as they stay silent. I continue to pace back and forth, feeling a fire burning in my chest. I was terrified, but now I’m pissed.

He waited until he knew I couldn’t get to her. He wants me to suffer, but she’s the one suffering right now. Her fear is being buried alive. And that’s exactly what he made sure to do to her.

“Saint?” Tyson calls out.

“Yeah?” I snap out of it.

The sound of doors opening and closing tells me they’re getting in the car before the roar of the engines comes through the speakers. “Where was she last?” he asks.

“Carnage,” Kash answers. “We had to leave so she and Haidyn stayed behind.”

Just then my laptop alerts me of a new email. Kashton’s eyes meet mine as he sits in front of it.

“What is it?” I ask.

“We just received an email labeled Haidyn.”

“Fuck.” Tyson sighs, knowing exactly what that means. “We’re headed to Carnage. Finn thinks he has an idea of how to track her. I’ll call you as soon as we get there.”

Kashton hangs up, and then I turn to face the cracked TV. It still works just has lines through it. Kash puts a new video on, and we watch it play out.

It’s of the entrance of Carnage. The surveillance cameras are pointed down at the front double doors. They slam open, and she’s thrown over a man’s shoulder. She kicks the best she can, but her hands are tied behind her back. She manages to knee him in the face, and he drops her.

She’s got the ball gag in her mouth, and she tries to scoot away, but he grabs her by the hair and yanks her to her feet before tossing her to another guy. He carries her out of sight, and two new men enter Carnage. They are on either side of an unconscious Haidyn. His feet drag behind him, his shirt covered in blood. His head is down, so he might be dead, but I can’t tell.

“Cut the cameras,” a guy says into the radio on his bulletproof vest, and it goes black. I continue to stare at it, and new footage appears. It’s like the one room Ashtyn was in, but this is a different one.

Haidyn is brought in and placed on a table. He’s strapped down just like she was—ankles, wrists, and one across his chest.

The door opens once more, and Devin enters the room. “Jesus,” he hisses when he sees Haidyn, running over to him and demanding, “What happened?”

One of the guys holds a gun to the back of Devin’s head. “Save him.”

Just then, Haidyn opens his eyes. Taking in a shaky breath, he looks around aimlessly.

Nodding, Devin moves over to the cabinets. “I just need to sedate him.”

“No!” a guy barks out.

Devin turns to face the room. “I can’t help him unless he’s sedated. I have to cut him open—”

“You’ve got two choices.” The man interrupts him, moving the gun and pressing it into the side of Haidyn’s head. “You either cut him as is, or you give him a shot of adrenaline.”

Devin looks at Haidyn and then at the guy and nods. He begins to rummage through the cabinets and drawers, tossing items he needs onto a metal tray. Then he grabs more restraints from a cabinet underneath the table.

“What the fuck is that for?” one of the men asks.

“What you have on him now won’t be enough,” Devin explains, connecting a leather belt to the side of the table and throwing it over Haidyn’s waist. “Once the adrenaline hits, he’ll be hard to keep down. I need him as immobile as possible, especially if I cut him open.” He tightens the belt and then places two more across his legs. He pulls a mouthpiece out of a drawer and turns to Haidyn. “Open,” he orders.

Haidyn’s eyes find Devin’s, and what he says makes the hairs on my neck stand. “Ash-tyn?”

One of the guys laughs. “That bitch is as good as dead. You’ll be lucky to join her.”

Haidyn opens his mouth to say something, and Devin shoves the mouthpiece into it, not wasting any time. Then he takes the needle, plunging it into Haidyn’s bloody chest.