Guts & Glass

  Skull drags his fingers up my inner thigh. Back and forth he goes, as if he’s trying to soothe me into wanting it. With my stare on the ceiling, I manage to calm my breathing. I imagine his touch as someone else’s, someone I know would never hurt me. It’s easier to relax then, easier to let Skull take whatever he wants from me.

  When he reaches the inside of my upper thighs, his gentle fingers turn hungry and eager, making me squirm in discomfort. He slides between my creases, reveling in the way I’ve made it easy for him to glide so effortlessly against my flesh.

  “So fucking wet.”

  I grit my teeth. “Not for you.”

  “Oh, I think you’d be surprised.” He pinches my nipple between his fingers and I hiss. “I think you like it now. I think you misbehave just so I punish you…just so I make you come.”

  Moving further down my body, he pushes my legs apart, and licks my inner thighs with his wet tongue, before pressing his inked lips against my very center. I gasp at the feeling and roll my hips, desperate to pull myself away from his assault, but his strong hands hold me in place.

  “Still don’t think I spoil you?” he murmurs against my skin, pushing against my thighs. “You’re spoiled rotten.”

  Skull licks me with the same skill as always, slowly bringing my reluctant soul to the very edge where I teeter, fighting with everything I have not to give in to him. I hate that he’s so good at it. I hate that somewhere, deep down, I enjoy the brief escapes from reality that he gives me. I shudder. Soon, I won’t be able to look at myself in the mirror.

  I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I fight off his torturous attack until he loses patience and pulls away from me with a growl. “Not in the mood today, Emily?”

  “I’m not in the mood any day,” I pant, pressing my knees together, moving my shins against his torso as protection.

  I feel the wetness he’s left between my legs and against my inner thighs. I need a scalding shower to wash him away and I need it now.

  “You’re a fucking liar.” He leans over me, tiny golden rivers of delight igniting in his black pools. “You think I don’t hear you? The way you moan and gasp?”

  I cut my eyes at him. “Pretending you’re someone else helps.”

  He grins. “Whatever you say, Kitten.”

  The thing about Skull is he’s a busy man. I try to run out the clock whenever we’re alone and I’m successful most of the time. The chances of someone coming through the door and interrupting—knock knock.

  I squirm to pull my dress down as Skull’s jaw hardens and the heavy oak door creaks as it’s opened.

  “Excuse me, sir?” one of his men asks, his voice uncertain.

  “What is it?” Skull snaps, his nostrils flaring.

  “It’s Jai Stone…”

  My heart leaps into my throat and my lips part, letting out a shaky exhale. I don’t feel shame when I do whatever I need to do to survive Skull. I’m always inside my own head, protecting myself from a darkness that threatens to consume me. In those moments, when Skull is touching me oh-so intimately and whispering the name of his dead wife, if I let myself acknowledge Jai’s feelings—even for a second—I’ll implode. I’ll throw myself over this crazy mental abyss and I know I’ll never be able to climb back up. Call me selfish, but in order for me to get through this, I need to look out for me.

  “What about him, Tom?”

  “He’s got Tobias and he’s making demands.”

  Skull drops his head back with impatience and I find my gaze trailing the length of his tattooed throat. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the intricate slices of flesh and bone. For someone to do this to themselves…to cover their entire face…their entire bodies…weren’t they afraid of losing their identity? Perhaps that’s exactly what they wanted when they decided to do it. I don’t like myself at the best of times, but I’ve never hated myself enough to become someone else.

  “How’d he get Tobias?” Skull’s cold tone sends a shiver down my spine and ignites a panic that starts in my toes.

  He’s not going to hurt Jai, is he?

  “Jai was tormenting him and Tobias took the bait. He got too close and…Stone grabbed him before we could—”

  “—enough.” Skull turns his dark eyes on me and I hate that I fear the threat in them. “I’m getting real sick of you and your boyfriend.”

  “You’re the one keeping us here.”

  “Come on.” He reaches over me to free my hands from my collar. “Let’s pay him a visit, shall we?”

  I rub at the red marks on my wrist and smooth my dress down my thighs. Cursing under his breath, Skull snatches my bicep and yanks me to my feet. The thug at the door doesn’t deter his attention from me when I enter his sight and I rush to cover my breasts. Muttering unintelligibly, Skull unbuttons his shirt and holds it out for me. I glance at it.

  “Or walk around with your tits out. I don’t care.”

  I glance at Tom, who outright stares at my chest with his beady dark eyes. Reaching out for the shirt, I slip into it, allowing Skull to pull it around me and button it up. I swim in the soft, white fabric, but I’m thankful it covers everything. “Thank you.”

  His stare flickers quickly over me and I recognize the vulnerability in his look. It’s in these moments I know he’s not looking at me as his prisoner, but his dead ex-wife. Sometimes he forgets. Sometimes he sits up at night, caressing my face and humming softly. I pretend I’m asleep, but I’m awake for every second of it. On occasion, I’ve felt a tear hit my skin and I’ve heard a gentle sniffle. Even so, nothing excuses what he’s done since the murder of his wife and unborn child.

  Grief or no grief, he’s still a monster.

  TWO

  Jai

  Flesh Wounds

  I rest my forehead against the cool bars and close my eyes. I’m going insane down here.

  I hold onto Skull’s thug tightly, not daring to let go or remove the shiv I made from the bone of my lamb chop from dinner last week. I press it harder against his neck and his breath hitches sharply. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple struggling to bob against my forearm. All I want is to see Emily. Weeks have passed since she was hanging, chained by her wrists, naked, in front of me. We didn’t speak much. She seemed disappointed in me no matter how hard I tried to reason with her.

  The guards taunt me. They tell me horrible things about her—about her and Skull. It makes my blood boil. It makes my brain throb. Regardless if it’s true or not, I know she’s only trying to survive and I’ll never hold that against her. That girl is nothing if not a survivor.

  “Jai!” Joel snaps for the umpteenth time, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  Opening my eyes, I turn my head to peer across the aisle and into his cell. He looks like shit. His eyes are sunken, exaggerating the deep lines of stress and tiredness that surround them.

  “So?”

  He scratches at the dark, scruffy beard growing in.

  “So? What do you mean so?”

  I ignore him. The guards taunt him too, but the things they say don’t seem to bother him. He takes them on the chin with sad eyes, but never retorts. I ask him why and he never answers. I know it’s because what they’re saying is true. Skull is putting his hands on our women. I never imagined Joel to be so weak. Not me. I can’t just fucking sit here and let it happen. He might have his own agenda for Monique, but Emily is here because of me. I did this to her and every slice of her pain, sadness, and regret will forever be on my conscience.

  A heavy clank bangs throughout the room, echoing like a thunderstorm, and I tighten my grip on the piece of shit in my arms, squeezing him until he gurgles.

  Skull enters first, topless, his unsightly torso proudly on display, like he doesn’t look like a goddamn freak show. A goddamn monster. For a moment, it doesn’t look like he’s brought Emily with him, but the satisfied smirk on his lips keeps me hopeful.

  Sure enough, she slips into the room from behind the h
eavy metal door, wearing the shirt I assume began its day clinging to Skull’s body, not hers. My ribs clench around my organs at the sight, but it doesn’t hold my attention for long. Her wide glistening eyes, rosy pink cheeks, and the perfect curve of shock in her supple lips consumes my entire being. To say my heart is pounding is an understatement. It’s thrashing wildly in my chest, like a rabid, caged animal scared out of its mind.

  “Apparently, you have demands?” Skull speaks first, strolling in front of my cell, stopping in front of his thug.

  It takes all of my strength to force my attention to him, instead of Emily, who lingers off to the left with Tom, the guard I sent upstairs to get her. Skull angles his head and there’s no amusement in his black stare. Good. I don’t want to play games.

  “I just wanted to see her,” I say, swallowing. “That’s all.”

  Skull steps closer, bringing himself a foot from his thug. “And you thought holding one of my men hostage was the best way to communicate that?”

  I cut my eyes at him. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

  With a harsh growl from the base of his throat, Skull snaps forward, grabs his guy and grabs my wrist, burying the lamb bone deep in his neck. I clench my jaw as the man in my grip trembles and gurgles. Warm blood squirts against my hand and up my arm, but I don’t budge. Skull’s angry eyes filled with warning, but the dying man between us isn’t enough to make me cower.

  “You’re my prisoner. You don’t get to make demands,” he grinds out, holding the piece of bone firmly in place. “But since you’ve managed to get me all the way down here, let’s use this time to lay some new ground rules.”

  He pulls away from the cell, so do I, and the man I held, once alive and kicking, crashes to the floor and twitches in a pool of his own blood. I continue to clench the bloodied bone in my hand. If I’m lucky, Skull will meet his fate today as well.

  He leans against the wall opposite my cell, folding his arms across his chest and bending his leg at the knee. “Obviously, lamb chops are now off the menu.”

  My lips twitch. Always with the humor. I don’t know what Skull’s game is. He keeps us fed and washed. We even have the luxury of a blanket when we sleep. Leaving us to rot until we die clearly isn’t his game plan and that puts me on fucking edge.

  “They tasted like shit anyway,” I tell him and the amusement I’ve come to expect flashes in Skull’s stare.

  He flicks his head at Tom. “Unlock his cell.”

  Tom hesitates, glancing between me and Skull. “A-are you sure?”

  Skull doesn’t utter a word, he doesn’t even spare Tom a glance, but he doesn’t need to. The way his lips set into an annoyed line and his jaw flexes are all the warning Tom needs. Exhaling, he inches Emily toward Skull and plucks my cell key from his front pocket before unlocking it.

  My fingers twitch against the sharp shard of lamb bone in my hand and I eye the handgun strapped to his side. What are the chances of me killing him for it and shooting Skull before he has the chance to react?

  Cautiously, Tom draws the gun and points it at my face. In the distance, I hear Emily’s breath hitch.

  “Drop the bone,” he orders and something deflates in my chest.

  I drop the bone against the concrete at my feet.

  “Now kick it over to me.”

  Fuck. I kick the bone and it rattles as it slides and bounces to the cell’s entrance.

  “Chain him up,” Skull orders and I narrow my eyes at Tom, who enters the cell with me, one heavy boot after the other.

  I can disarm him with my bare hands…if he gets close enough. Movement in my peripheral catches my attention and I watch as Skull gestures for Emily to come closer to him. I hate that she moves so fluidly, doing as he says without so much as a frown. Has he really broken her down that much? Skull and I lock stares and a small smile plays on his lips as he presses her back against his torso, gently resting his hand on her hip.

  “What?” he simpers. “I’m crazy, not stupid. Touch his gun and see what happens.”

  And just like that, I’m all out of options. I inhale through my nose and impatiently blow it out my lips. I raise my arms and Tom rushes over to chain me in place. Joel mutters something to me—something insulting, I assume—and rolls over on his cot, ignoring everything going on around him. I don’t care how this has turned out. All I wanted was to see her. Even if they kill me now, I’d die content with my choice.

  When Skull is certain I’m secure, he slips out from behind Emily and stalks toward me. He snatches Tom’s handgun as he passes and with a simple flick of his arm, he squeezes the trigger and—bang—buries a bullet in Tom’s head. Bits of blood, bone, and brain spray as Tom hits the floor. The sound is loud and a horrific mash up when paired with Emily’s shriek and Joel’s cursing. Skull points the gun at me and Emily rushes into the cell, her dark, shiny hair chaotic as it surrounds her pale face.

  She grabs at Skull’s bare bicep. “Damien, stop it!”

  Whipping toward her, he slaps her hard in the mouth, tossing her head to the side. “That’s the second time you’ve used my name this morning. There won’t be a third.”

  A growl rips from my chest and I cock my leg back and let it fly, hitting Skull in the stomach. With a grunt, he stumbles backward, clenching his abdomen. Emily seizes the moment and launches toward him, only to stop dead in her tracks when he straightens his spine and points the gun in her face. Her entire body stiffens, mimicking mine, and she lifts her arms, exposing her palms.

  “You won’t kill me, Damien.”

  Her tone is hard, almost mocking, like she’s daring him to pull the trigger.

  “Emily,” I snap her name and she flinches at the sound, but she doesn’t look at me.

  “Don’t call me that,” Skull pants, his free hand still tight against his stomach.

  “Why?” The amusement in her tone is almost…deadpan. “Does it force you to remember your wife? Does it force you to see the man you’ve become and how much she’d hate it?”

  Skull grins, exposing white teeth. With an exhale, he stuffs the gun into the back of his waistband and frees a switchblade from his back pocket.

  “Contrary to what you might believe, I don’t think about my dead wife that often.” The light from the ceiling casts a sheen along the sharp edge of the blade and my hearts stutters. “I couldn’t care less how she’d perceive me now.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she shoots back, turning her body as Skull slowly makes his way over to me, the hard bottoms of his leather shoes tapping the floor.

  “This isn’t about me.” He flicks the knife between Emily and me. “It’s about you two and how much trouble you continue to cause me.”

  Skull swallows the distance between us with malicious intent. I clench my jaw, contemplating kicking him again, but the look in his eyes has shifted from psychotically amused to downright hostile.

  “Kick me again,” he warns, his voice low, rough, and full of malice, the kind that makes my skin crawl. “I’ll cut off one of her ears and force you to eat it.”

  I swallow hard. It’s one thing to threaten me; Skull could do anything to me and I wouldn’t give a shit, but to threaten Emily? Well, I have no choice but to take him at his word. He’ll hurt her just to prove his point. I know he will.

  Skull steps close, so close I can smell both men and women’s perfume on his skin. Under it, there’s a hint of natural, male musk and—my nose twitches—whiskey?

  Angling his body, Skull turns his attention to Emily, who watches us closely, her slender fingers nervously threaded in front of her as she unsuccessfully tries to hide the worry on her pretty face.

  “I don’t know how many times we have to have this conversation about your behavior,” he begins and Emily’s eyes pool with tears. “I’ve threatened you, beaten you, chained you up, cut you, shot you…”

  I ball my fists in my chains above my head as he speaks, tuning him out. My own eyes glisten with emotion at the thought of her cowering under Skull’
s abuse. I did this to her. I brought her into this fucked up situation. Every word he utters might as well come directly from my mouth. I’m pulled from my thoughts by the cool, sharp tip of a knife to my ribcage. I suck air between my lips as he slips the pointed end between two ribs, threatening to break the skin.

  “What’s it going to be? Hm? Are you going to behave like a good little kitty-cat? Or are you going to continue to waste my time?”

  Emily’s concerned stare flickers between my face and the knife against my skin.

  “Do you think I’m bluffing?” Skull demands. “Like this morning when you claimed I wouldn’t hurt Monique?”

  “What did you do?” The snarl from the left takes us all by surprise. Joel is against the bars of his cell, squeezing himself as tightly against the metal as he can. “I’ll kill you!”

  “I’ll deal with you later,” Skull deadpans, turning his attention back to Emily, who continues to look at Joel. “Surprisingly, you’re the least of my worries.”

  “She’s okay,” Emily assures him. “She’s fine.”

  Joel pushes off the cell and paces wildly back and forth. It’s the most movement I’ve seen from him in weeks. Maybe this will force him to get off his ass and actually help me come up with a plan to get us out of here.

  A sharp pain invades my body and I groan, clenching my teeth as the familiar feeling of warm blood trickles down my torso. Lowering my head, I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s a paper cut. It doesn’t hurt. He twists the blade a little and I hiss, opening my mouth with a gasp.

  “Skull! Stop it!” Emily’s cry echoes around the cell, around my head, but Skull doesn’t let up.

  “Do you think I’m bluffing?”

  “No.” She pleads with him and I can’t bear to look at her, to see the strained face that matches the panic in her voice. “I don’t think you’re bluffing. Please, I won’t give you any more trouble.”