Timber (Hades Book 4) Page 3

  "No?" Hades snorted. "From where I'm standing...you're done. You're finished. The Timberwolves are going to scatter unless Zed takes the mantle. They might follow him, you know. He knows where all the bodies are buried. He even helped you bury a few."

  And dig some up—even bodies that weren't there.

  A slap caught me across the cheek and knocked my head to the side. I spat blood and looked back at myself.

  "Zed. Zed. Zed. What the fuck has Zed ever done for you? Really? He couldn't even bring himself to touch you until he thought he was losing you again. How many times did he make a point of fucking women in front of you?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "How can you say that?" Dare demanded. "He could have saved us, and he didn't."

  "It doesn't matter."

  "She's a lost cause," Daria stated. "This woman has no head for business. She's just a mess of chaotic emotions and drugs."

  "We had Lucas," Hayden whispered. "Remember that."

  "We don't need him." Hades sliced a hand through the air. "And we don't need you."

  She hit me again.

  Then again.

  I welcomed the blows.

  One after another until my eyes ached and my jaw didn't quite work right and all I could taste was blood.

  "You done?" I asked in a voice hoarse from choking. I didn't wait for her answer. I went for her. "I'm Hades."

  "I always was your better half, Darling," Chase mocked as Hades melted into him and the others vanished. He caught my next fist, but not my knee. I didn't care what I tore or broke. I was taking him to Hell with me.

  3

  When the scene finally faded, my sobs echoed hauntingly through the dark. But no one came. Not when the walls started dripping with burning lava. Not when the ceiling started closing down on me and spikes shot up from the floor.

  Thankfully, the drugs in my system allowed me to detach from my own body. I couldn't feel the bite of the leather straps restraining me. The chill in the room had no meaning to me. My body was not my own. I had no physical form anymore. Yet my mind remained tethered to that bed. To that cell of horrors. To the heartbreaking, soul-crushing delusions I was helpless to escape.

  The cell door slammed open, deafening, and the harsh light flared to life above me, blinding. So I barely even registered Chase looming over me until he spoke.

  "Are we having fun yet, sweet little demon?" He swiped his tongue over his lower lip, and his presence was more tangible this time.

  My gaze ducked past him, seeking the patch of floor where Lucas had knelt. Where he'd stared back at me with accusation and betrayal in his eyes as Zed held a gun to his head. It was spotless, though, the floor. Not a single droplet of blood.

  I'd imagined it. Of course I had. I should have known my hallucinations would be so much more vivid, more real and painful now. Because unlike the last time I'd been at Chase's mercy, now I had so much more to lose. Lucas, Cass, Seph... Zed. But I didn't need drugs to make me feel the acidic burn of Zed's betrayal. He'd done that all on his own before I’d landed in Chase's dirty clutches.

  That clarity alone told me the drugs were wearing off. How long had it been since Chase injected me?

  Humming a happy sound, he groped my body again, making me stiffen with revulsion. The drugs were wearing off, and I was back inside my body again. Able to feel once again.

  Chase smirked as he twisted my nipple, and I clenched my jaw tight to swallow the scream of pain. "Oh good, I timed this beautifully," he murmured. The same knife he'd used to cut my clothes was in his hand once more, and the mattress dipped as he placed a knee on the side of the bed.

  Holding my gaze, he climbed on top of me, straddling my bare stomach and barely bothering to hold his own weight as he leaned in close. His nose trailed a line down the side of my neck as I turned my face away, and the tip of his knife scraped over my ribs, taunting me.

  "I wanted to wait until that first high wore off a bit," he confessed in a low murmur. "I'd hate for you to not feel anything when I did this..." Sitting up again, he raised his knife, then slammed it down.

  A scream tore from my throat as agony blazed through my shoulder, but Chase just shushed me with his finger over my lips. He left the blade buried in my flesh, right below my collarbone, and unbuckled his pants.

  Licking his lips, he gripped his hard dick and started stroking it right there on top of me. I flinched, bile rising in my throat at the sight of his erection. But I'd known it was coming from the second he captured me. He'd taken such delight in abusing my body when we'd been together; why the fuck would he pull his punches now? After all these years of festering, plotting, obsessing... Nah, I'd known full fucking well that given half a chance, Chase would rape me.

  Gritting my teeth, I focused on the pain in my shoulder. I ignored the weight of Chase sitting across my torso, ignored his harsh, heavy breathing as he jerked himself off. But that wasn't good enough for him. He raised a hand and cracked it across my face hard enough to make me see stars and jostle the knife.

  Fuck me, that hurt.

  "Look at me!" he demanded, more than an edge of madness in his voice.

  Reluctantly, I brought my gaze back to his face, resolutely ignoring his hard dick and pumping hand. Cruelty flashed in his single eye, and his lips curled in a snarl as I hardened my own expression.

  "Stubborn bitch," he spat, grasping the handle of the knife and jerking it out abruptly.

  I screamed again, and he came. Hot, wet semen splattered my chest, my neck, my face, and blood streamed from the stab wound. Chase just grunted his satisfaction and smeared the mixture all over my tits with his dick. Then he jammed a finger into my bleeding shoulder wound to make me scream again.

  "That's the sweetest sound in the world," he groaned, then pulled his finger out once more and brought it to his mouth.

  My whole body quaked with pain and shock, and I couldn't drag my eyes away as he licked my blood from his hand. Then he climbed off the bed as casually as if nothing had happened.

  "Let's try something new," he announced, picking up a tray from the floor. I hadn't seen him bring it in, but it was laid out with three syringes. "This is a really special cocktail. Created just for you, Darling girl."

  He gave me a smirk, tapping the crook of my arm to bring up my veins. One after another, he injected the drugs while I tried my hardest not to slip into a panic attack.

  I wanted to ask what the hell he'd just shot me up with, but it didn't matter. All asking would do was show my fear. And fuck that. So I kept my lips shut tight and my jaw clenched as he placed the empty syringes back on the tray and scooped up his knife from where he'd tossed it.

  "Wouldn't want to leave this lying around, would I?" He chuckled, waving the knife at me tauntingly. "Don't look so worried, pretty Darling. I won't leave you alone so long this time. I want to fully experience this mix for myself."

  With that ominous promise, he gave a mocking salute and slammed the cell door shut behind him. He'd left the lights on, though, which was a small mercy.

  Dizziness swept through my head as the mystery concoction of drugs kicked in, and I let out a strangled groan. There was PCP in there for sure, but it wasn't as strong as the last dose. Or if it was, whatever else I'd been given was counteracting the numbness and dissociation. My body flushed with heat, and I steadily grew painfully aware of every inch of my skin—total opposite of how angel dust usually made me feel.

  Wave on wave of warmth washed over me, making my breathing harsh and my chest heave. The tight leather straps holding me to the bed scraped my limbs distractingly, the sensation more intense with every passing second until it was all I could focus on.

  Sweat dripped down my forehead, stinging my eyes, and I tugged against my restraints. Fear of the unknown was spiking my paranoia worse than usual while high. Not knowing what Chase had injected me with...

  The door opened some time later, and I groaned with frustration. What now?

  "What did you give me?" I muttere
d, unable to hold my tongue. "I feel... weird." I rolled my head to the side, only to gasp in shock when my eyes focused.

  "Shh," Zed whispered, holding a finger to his lips.

  "Zed?" I croaked, then instantly remembered him telling Chase to shoot Lucas. But shit. No, that was a delusion; it hadn't really happened. "What—"

  "Dare," he breathed, coming closer with an intense look in his eyes. "You've got to be quiet. I'm getting you out." He held up a key, indicating to my restraints.

  I swallowed, searching his face. Was this real? Or just another hallucination? It felt real. But what did that count for? "Zed, you set me up," I murmured, shaking my head as much as I could. "You set me up. You were working with him all along. Why?"

  "No, baby," he sighed as he quickly unlocked the small padlocks on each of the leather restraints. "No, I would never betray you. I love you, Dare. That was all Chase. He set it all up to make you think I'd stabbed you in the back."

  Zed reached across to unlock my other arm but brushed my hard nipples as he did so. A low moan escaped my throat without my permission, and he paused.

  "This isn't real," I mumbled. "This is just another psychotic episode. Chase drugged me, and this... this isn't real. You betrayed me. Nothing can change that."

  Zed shook his head, looking upset, but continued unlocking my restraints. Still, I couldn't help arching my back and writhing when his movements brushed my skin. What the hell was wrong with me? I was like a cat in heat. Every damn touch, every glance...

  "This isn't a delusion, Dare," he told me in a rough voice when I was fully unbuckled from my bonds. "Please, trust me. I'm trying to get you out of here before Chase comes back." He held out a hand, offering to help me up. But the underlying message was clear. He wouldn't force me. I needed to accept his help willingly.

  "Please, trust me. I never betrayed you, Dare. I love you." His face was so full of sincerity, so honest and open... I couldn't fight it. I lifted a heavy arm and placed my hand in his.

  The second our fingers touched it was like a match had just been dropped on petrol. I threw myself into his arms, my mouth finding his like a homing beacon. Our lips locked, and I gasped into the kiss as his tongue plunged deep, tangling with mine and damn near swallowing me whole.

  My skin was still on fire, my heart racing like it was about to explode, and all of a sudden I couldn't focus on anything except sex. I wanted him so bad.

  "Zed," I moaned as his lips moved to my neck and I bucked my hips in his lap. "Zed, I need you."

  "We can't," he groaned, reluctantly pushing me away. "Dare, we can't risk it. I don't know how long Chase will be gone. It's more important to get you out of here."

  I knew that. I knew he was right. But I just... couldn't focus. My breathing was rough and my nipples harder than diamonds as I pulled myself back against him. "Please, Zed. I need you so bad it hurts."

  No. It was my shoulder that hurt. Fuck, it was agony. Dimly I registered the fresh blood flowing from the wound Chase had inflicted, but that was dull compared to the ache between my thighs.

  Zed gave a pained groan as I kissed him again, and his hand skated down my body, finding my throbbing core. "Fuck," he hissed as his fingers delved into me, "you're drenched. You really want this, huh?"

  Words failed me as I rode his hand. All coherent thoughts fled my brain. All the fear, the panic, the urgency of the situation... gone. The only thing I could focus on was the intense orgasm building from Zed's rough fingering.

  "Zed," I groaned again, more insistently. He knew what I wanted; he was just teasing me.

  He chuckled a couple of curses, then pushed me back down on the bed. "Okay, Dare. But we gotta be quick. I'd hate for Chase to come back and catch us like this." He unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and showing me that he wanted it just as badly as me. "Lie back, baby, spread those legs for me."

  I moaned, doing as he said. He hovered over me, his hands at my neck for a moment, but I wasn't paying attention. All I wanted was him to sink inside me. Fill me up. Fuck me until the crazy, insane, uncontrollable need was sated.

  "Come on," I all but screamed. The heat was painful now. Like my skin was about to blister.

  Zed hooked his hands under my thighs, pushing my legs wider as he lined up. Then he pushed inside, and I convulsed with tremors as I screamed.

  Sweat coated every inch of me as he thrust in and out, and my eyes rolled back in my head. What if it killed me? Whatever drugs were filling my veins, pumping through my heart... what if they killed me? It felt possible. I thought I was okay with it, too. I'd lost everything. Why would I want to continue? Not now. Everyone hated me. The look on Lucas's face as they'd cuffed me had been pure torture. Cass would be better off if I weren't around. Even Seph... I did nothing but make her life hard.

  A hard and fast orgasm hit me, and I shrieked, writhing and bucking under Zed. But he didn't slow. He just fucked me harder and faster, grunting and sweating as he bit his bruised lower lip.

  When had that happened? It looked like teeth marks in his lip. Like someone had bitten him.

  "Come for me again, Darling," he snarled, reaching a hand down between us and violently pinching my clit. My body responded, though, crashing me headlong into another orgasm that left me seeing stars and hoarse from screaming.

  Still, he kept going, fucking me so hard the bed rocked and smacked the concrete wall behind us.

  So much sweat poured from my body, and my heart thumped so hard I was sure I must only be a second away from cardiac arrest. Fuck. Why couldn't I focus my eyes?

  Reaching up with a heavy hand, I swiped the sweat from my eyes and blinked a couple of times to clear them. Then screamed when I refocused on Zed.

  Except it wasn't Zed at all.

  A wide grin of triumph curved Chase's lips as he pumped harder. His hands pinned my wrists against the bed, holding me with all his strength as I thrashed and fought, desperately trying to push him away.

  It was no use, though. A moment later he grunted his climax with a handful of slamming thrusts. The second he finished, he climbed off and stepped back from the bed with a delirious grin on his face.

  "Oh, sweet Darling," he purred, "that cocktail worked like a treat. You really believed I was him, didn't you?"

  He just stood there, pants around his thighs and his dick out, slick with my own arousal. How could I have done that? How could I have seriously believed...

  Unable to stop myself, I rolled to the side and vomited straight onto the floor. He'd released my bonds. I wasn't trapped. I could make a run for it.

  Gathering every inch of my strength, I coiled my weak muscles and lurched forward. I had no plan, just desperation. It was all for nothing, though. I barely got within a foot of Chase before something jerked me back by the neck.

  Chase cackled with glee, shaking his head at me as I collapsed at his feet. "You didn't really think I'd let you go, did you?" He clicked his tongue. "Silly girl. This was fun. Let's do it again. Soon."

  This time when the cell door closed and the bolt shot home, I gave in to hopelessness. To despair. I huddled there on the floor, shaking and crying, wishing I was dead.

  4

  Unknowingly, Chase had given me some small mercy in the cocktail of drugs he'd shot me up with. The one he'd used to erase my inhibitions had also wiped a good chunk of my memory. When I woke, naked and aching on the floor of my cell, I had only the faintest memory of how I’d gotten there. Echoes. Like it'd happened in a movie I'd watched or that I'd dreamed it all.

  Only the collar around my neck—chained to the wall—and the raw ache between my legs confirmed that it'd been real.

  Vague or not, the knowledge of what he'd done... of what I'd done... cracked something deep inside me. Something, I suspected, that could never be repaired.

  I lost track of days as Chase escalated his torture. Half the time he seemed content to just shoot me up and let my mind deteriorate into psychosis. The other half, he preferred to be hands on. He grew relentless in h
is obsession with my fear, each encounter subtly pushing me closer to death.

  But to my disappointment, he always seemed to know when to stop. When to pull my head up from the trough of water he'd been drowning me in. Or when to turn the voltage down on his cattle prod.

  I also lost track of how many times he mixed those three fucking drugs in my veins, then reaped the benefits of my mindless, drugged state. PCP for delusions, of course. GHB for erasing inhibitions—and memory. Lastly, a modified version of bremelanotide, which increased arousal and sexual desire.

  Any idiot with half a brain could say that mixing drugs like that could result in death, but Chase didn't seem to care. Neither did I. Every time my heart beat so hard it hurt, I prayed for it to just... stop.

  But then later, when Chase was gone and the drugs faded, I revived myself with the burning fire of anger and determination. Thoughts and dreams of what I'd do to Chase if I ever got free were the only things that kept me going.

  Yet every time I started to fall asleep, I was plagued by one gut-churning, heartbreaking thought.

  Why had no one come for me?

  Surely, even as mad as Lucas had to be, he'd have called Cass. Or Demi. Or hell, even Gen. Was anyone looking for me? Did anyone care?

  It was so damn easy to sink into depression and despair.

  Time was passing—it had to be—because every time I woke up, I was weaker. Chase barely fed me, just enough to keep me alive but not enough to give me strength. Water was the only thing maintaining me, and half of that came from his torture. There was something particularly terrifying about having a wet towel wrapped over your face for extended periods of assault.

  He didn't bother to treat the wound in my shoulder, and it soon grew red and puffy around the crusty edges. When I woke up trembling uncontrollably, coated in cool sweat, I knew infection had set in, either there or in one of the many other injuries—flesh wounds and burns only—that Chase had inflicted on me.

  I said nothing about it when he entered the room, but I should have known he wouldn't let me out so easily.