Ghosts of Halloween: Chapter 50
“Shut up,” I say mildly, backhanding Greg across the face. They are both gagged, him and Ryan, but Greg’s squealing through his gag and the sound is annoying.
Or maybe I just need an excuse to hit him. I’m not as hot-headed as Jack, and I usually try to resolve conflicts peacefully or in more underhanded ways, but hell, my hands itch to lay into these two. I shouldn’t, though. This is Harlow’s revenge, and we caught them for her. She’s the one who will do the honors, but maybe she’ll let me help out.
When the basement door creaks open, the sound followed by shuffling noises and muffled screaming, I grin at the two boys, both securely tied to the sturdiest chairs in this house. A third chair awaits.
“I see Jack couldn’t hold back,” I comment, seeing the bloody mess that’s Michael’s face. His nose is broken, snot and blood running down his mouth and chin.
Silas snorts, pushing the guy down the stairs so he falls on the floor with a thud, groaning. “Not Jack. That’s Harlow’s handiwork.”
“Really?” I ask, giving the mauled rapist an impressed look as I help Silas haul him up. We drag him to the chair, and he’s so dazed, he barely puts up a fight. Silas gets to work securing him, and I grab Michael by the hair so I can look at his trashed face more closely.
His nose is a bloody pulp, and he breathes through his mouth, blood staining his teeth. His left eye is swollen shut, and I suspect his cheekbone is fractured, too.
“Fucked up by a little bird,” I murmur, dark satisfaction curling in my belly. I thought I was tapped out, but hell, if I see Harlow giving these three shits what they deserve, I think I’ll fuck her again.
“Broke his nose with the prosthetic,” Silas says, grinning at me. Fuck, he’s beaming with pride. I’m jealous he got to see it. “She was so wild. It was beautiful.”
I laugh under my breath, shoving Michael’s head back when steps come from the staircase. Jack and Harlow turn up, and I assess her instantly. She looks pale and shaken, glancing around curiously until her eyes settle on our three prisoners. She stops, giving them a long, wide-eyed look, the black frying pan clutched in her hand jerking.
“Come in, angel,” Silas says, a feverish glint in his eyes. “They are waiting for you.”
She glances at him, but her eyes return to Michael, who struggles against the restraints. His eyes grow panicked, consciousness clearly returning, and he whimpers. Harlow’s eyes narrow, and she takes a single step closer.
“Help!” he screams, his voice nasal. “Somebody help!”
I slap his face, and he yelps, but at least he stops screaming. He moans in fear and pain, shaking violently as Harlow takes another step closer. She stops there, tense, her balance on her toes like she’s poised to leap, but she doesn’t make a move.
“Fuck,” she mutters after a tense moment, licking her lips. “I don’t know what to do.”
Jack snorts, patting her back. “You had a pretty good idea upstairs, princess.”
She shakes her head, brows drawn into a frown. “I don’t want to mindlessly beat him up. I want to… stay in control.” She stares a moment longer at her oppressors, now tied up and ready to take her punishment, and turns to Silas. Her face is set, even though her lips tremble slightly. “Silas. If they were… yours… what would you do?”
And I get it. She’s never tortured anyone, and she doesn’t even know where to start. Our little bird is broken and filthy, but ultimately pure. I bet Silas will be happy to corrupt her. Mark her soul with his filth and drag her to hell with us, if Jack’s plan doesn’t work.
I know he has plenty of ideas.
“I cut off Christian’s cock and balls,” he says, white teeth flashing at the memory. “I had him tied up, far away from other people. I didn’t even gag him. Wanted to hear every scream.”
Harlow presses her lips together, her body tensing, but she doesn’t react otherwise, so he goes on. “But that was hard work. Cutting off a body part isn’t easy, angel. We don’t have enough time.” He glances at the heavy frying pan she’s holding and nods toward it. “You can shatter their kneecaps with that. They will piss themselves from pain.”
Michael screams again, and I growl in annoyance, stuffing a ball of dirty fabric into his mouth and clamping my hand over it. I’m not entirely sure he can breathe through his nose, but fuck him. If he can’t shut up, he deserves to suffocate.
Harlow comes closer, her mouth open to gulp in nervous breaths, faster and faster. As she stands above him, tension stiffening the lines of her body, I force Michael’s head back so he has to look at her.
“Grip it in both hands,” Silas tells her calmly. “Raise it high enough to get momentum but not too high to aim.”
She makes to do as he said, but then hisses and lowers her hands. I instantly know what the problem is—the knife wound he gave her must hurt like a bitch, especially since we weren’t exactly gentle with her.
“You can always just step on his cock,” Silas says, shrugging, not disappointed at all. “With as much force as you have. And then… you can carve something on him. A message.”
He taps the knife on his belt, and Harlow lets out a loud breath, nodding. But I see the uncertainty in her face. It’s not really surprising—I guess she’s like Jack, able to do violence in the grip of fury, but not with cold-blooded control. Silas is the cold-blooded one. Guess it takes a special kind of person.
My beautiful psycho boy.
I cock my head to the side, thinking. It probably doesn’t matter if she tortures them or not before we kill them, but I want her to have this. I know how important it was for Silas to get closure with his rapists, and how he still suffers because he couldn’t kill them all.
The last two were still locked up two years ago, and then, we couldn’t leave this house. But I know at least one of them should be free by now, and the other’s sentence was supposed to end next year. It’s a fucking pity Silas won’t get to carve his revenge into their skin and then gut them like they deserve to be gutted.
But he can at least watch Harlow do it to her rapists.
“Come on, little bird,” I say, tugging roughly on Michael’s hair to bare his throat. “Step on his dick. As hard as you can. And I’ll give you a kiss.”
She jerks, looking at me with wide eyes. I can’t hold back a wide grin, because my cock is already warming up to the idea. “A kiss, sweetheart. Wherever you want it. On your lips. Your shoulder. On that sweet little pussy. I will even kiss your feet if you want me to.”
A faint blush dusts her cheeks, and she bites the inside of her lower lip before giving me a sharp nod. Her eyes narrow, her face growing hard with determination, and without waiting any longer, she raises her leg high and stomps hard on Michael’s crotch.
He howls, jerking his arms. He struggles to get free so hard, he almost topples the chair. I hold his head in a tight grip, grinning when tears stream from his good eye, and look up at Harlow. She’s breathing fast, already catching her balance to strike again.
Her leg descends one more time. And again. And again. By the time she’s done, shaking and wild-eyed, Michael makes a constant, high-pitched noise through the gag, his entire body spasming, hunched in as much as the restraints allow. There’s a dark stain growing rapidly on his crotch, and I assess it. Not blood, just piss.
“That was beautiful, baby. You’ve earned seven kisses,” I tell Harlow, letting go of the useless piece of shit and stepping closer. Silas takes over my post, standing behind Michael, but his eyes are glued to Harlow.
“Fuck, that was so hot,” Jack murmurs, joining me by her side. “How much time do we have?”
My skin pricks with unease, because fuck. I forgot we’re on a schedule here. Dawn is less than an hour away, and we really should wrap up soon in here. “Tell you what,” I say with a grin, looking at Harlow. “We’ll get you off in under two minutes, little bird, and then you’ll let us help out with your two other boys, hm? I really like the idea of that frying pan.”
Harlow laughs shakily, putting her trembling hand on my chest. “Okay. You’re on. But I don’t think you’ll be able to…”
I shut her up with a kiss, my hand already diving between her legs while Jack slowly runs his fingers down her neck and back. Harlow arches with a moan, her body responding instantly. It feels like she’s primed for us now, so attuned to our touch, it doesn’t take much for her to completely give in.
Jack kisses down her neck, murmuring into her skin, and I focus on her clit, drawing slow but insistent circles around it. It’s a careful balancing act, to bring her high quickly without making her too sensitive, and I relish the challenge.
Behind me, Michael and the other two make pitiful, squalling noises through their gags, and I snort, tearing my mouth away from Harlow to look over my shoulder.
“Watch and learn, boys,” I tell them with a smirk, because I can’t fucking help it. I’m too smug for my own good. “That’s how you get a lady to fuck you. Maybe the lesson sticks and you’ll remember it in your next life.”
I drop to my knees and hike her dress up, knowing very well how messy her cunt is after being fucked so many times. I relish it. Without needing my encouragement, Harlow hooks her knee over my shoulder, and I dive into my delicious, warm cream pie.
She tilts her hips to press into my face, making a deep, satisfied sound that goes straight to my cock. Fuck, I really can’t stop tonight. This is too fucking good, and I love that she’s game for this.
“Fuck me, Jack,” she moans, and my cock bucks in my jeans, almost coming at the thought of having a cock pumping in her while I eat her out. Fuck. I really like having both at once.
“Jesus,” Jack murmurs, unbuckling his belt. “Fuck. Princess. This is so fucking hot.”
He tugs her hips back, and I follow, mouth watering at the prospect of Jack’s cock being right fucking there. I already know I’ll get my mouth on him, too. That thought makes me grin, and I pull away, looking around Harlow’s hip up at Jack.
“I’ll help you along, puppy,” I tell him, fully expecting Jack to get furious and stomp away, but hell. I love fucking with him.
So it takes me aback when he stays put, pressing his lips together as his cheeks darken with a blush. He clears his throat, dick twitching in his hand, and I slowly smile up at him, watching his reaction closely.
“Want me to lick your cock while I’m down here, Jack?” I ask in a low voice, stroking Harlow’s hip when she huffs out a startled laugh. “I could suck you off, too, if you want.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Silas bursts behind me, sounding totally on edge. Guilt flares in my gut, but hell. This was too good to pass up. I’m just fucking with Jack, and I know he’ll never take me up on that offer.
Except… Jack doesn’t answer. He gulps uneasily, throat bobbing, and strangles the base of his dick in his hand like he’s keeping himself from coming.
Oh, shit.