CHAPTER 15
My brain flies through all the faces I remember seeing at that party, but it’s useless. For one, I’m high as fuck. And secondly, I didn’t know more than half the people there. How would I ever pinpoint exactly who was spying on us?
One thing is for certain, whoever it was, they got close enough to overhear Ivy’s conversation with Robert.
My vision bleeds red. I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucked off.
“Noah, your turn. Drink.”
Common sense still exists somewhere within the haze, and it’s begging me. Asking me to stop acting out. Obey, for Ivy’s sake at least.
But I’m high, my emotions strung out, and my impulse control is shot. “No.”
A low sigh echoes in the room. A sound meant to be pitying, but I hear her enjoyment in it.
Bloody hell, she wants me defiant.
As always.
“You’re lucky I cannot physically harm you without endangering your hearts.”
Ivy inhales sharply and her scared eyes fly around to lock on mine.
Instantly, I’m walking to her, my own heart racing at the dread in her eyes. I stop in front of her. From her seated position on the bed, she has to tilt her head back to look at me. Cupping her face, I force myself to portray a calm I don’t feel. “It’s fine. I’m here.”
Besides, there’s no telling if our captor is lying or not. Maybe it’s what I originally thought, and we’ve been drugged with an insane amount of MDMA—or something chemically similar to it.
Or our captor wants us to believe that in order to further fuck with our minds.
“How do you know it’s fine, Noah—”
“Fine. I’ll drink the water,” I snap, praying that my acquiescence will make her shut the fuck up. Ivy needs to focus on me, not the fucked up shite that cunt keeps spewing. Releasing Ivy’s face, I bend to pick up one of the bottles of water.
It’s ice-cold, condensation gathering on the outside despite the chill in the room.
I uncap it and tilt my head back to drink. As soon as the cold liquid hits my tongue, I can’t hold back my pained groan.
Fuck. I needed this. Worse than I knew.
Ivy’s low mewl catches me by surprise mid-swallow. My cock twitches at the sound. Slowly lowering the bottle, I let my head drop to see what’s wrong.
Her obsessed eyes are following the trails of water falling down my chest toward my dick.
My still hard, aching dick.
I was so lost in the water, I didn’t feel it spilling down the sides of my mouth as I chugged.
Swallowing nervously at her fixated stare, I ask, “Baby?”
She shifts on the bed, thighs rubbing together. Eyes still on my erection. “I don’t know how much more I can take, Noah.”
Just then, that vibration starts up beneath our feet. The one that signals the wall sliding open.
My heart goes cold.
Ivy’s eyes are already shimmering with tears.
“You would fuck him right now if I told you to, wouldn’t you Ivy?”
The vibration beneath the floor gathers strength, just like last time.
A tear slides down Ivy’s cheek. The question in her eyes bounces around inside my head.
Who will be behind the glass wall next?
Who are they going to kill to ensure our obedience?
“St-stop,” Ivy says, voice trembling. “Whatever you want, we’ll do it. Just don’t kill anyone else.”
I grit my teeth, unable to refute what she said. Bugger all, no one else we care about has to die.
We’re ignored, no sound coming out of those speakers. Inevitably, the rumbling stops, and I know the wall is open behind me.
I haven’t moved, using my body to shield Ivy from seeing. The dread sits heavy in my stomach. She closes her eyes, trembling, and I hate it.
I hate all of this shite.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the fucked-up ringleader of this game exhales into the speakers. “The fact that I have to even tell you to turn is quite bothersome.”
Quite . . . bothersome.
Psycho bitch.
“I’m assuming you both know what comes next. Don’t make me ask. You’ll regret it.”
I reach for Ivy’s hand. “It’s about survival now,” I whisper, although I’m sure they can hear me anyway. “We have to do what we have to do.”
She squeezes my hand and I see the moment she decides to be strong.
For me.
For us.
But her hand tightens into a death-grip and she’s still shaking as she slowly stands.
Stepping back, I spin out of Ivy’s way, my heart racing as I look inside the room.
It’s all black this time. All of it. The bright white lights on the ceiling are the only reason I can make out details.
Like the metallic table with an arm on each side. The thick black straps on those arms and at the end of the table.
Who those straps are restraining.
“No.” That little cry leaves Ivy and out of the corner of my eye, I see her collapse down to the floor, tears streaming.
I’m down next to her in an instant, pulling her against me, even as my blood pounds in my ears.
Everything’s so fucked that I find myself filtering through a myriad of contradicting emotions.
Most prevalent? Fury. Horror.
Yes, I actually feel horror at seeing him strapped there, his head tilted to the side so he can see us, a black ball gag strapped to his mouth. He’s completely naked, I can tell.
“R-Robert.” Ivy’s voice breaks and her body trembles in my arms. “No.”
His dark eyes are wide, bulging with fear. His body shakes harder than Ivy’s, sweat sliding down his forehead. The LED lights highlight every soaked inch of his body.
Unlike Anne, he’s still whole.
He won’t be for long.
“He doesn’t seem too happy about the positioning of your arms, Noah.”
She’s full of shite. That man is too far gone in his primal terror to focus on jealousy. I’ve never seen an expression like that in my life.
“Please. Please.” Ivy’s nails dig into my flesh. “Let him go.”
My jaw ticks.
“Oh. Oh! What was that? Someone seems upset. Does it bother you that she’s begging for Robert’s life, Noah?”
My doll’s head flies in my direction, wide eyes searching my expression.
What can I do? What could I possibly say? We both feel the way we do for each other, and the mind is a tricky fucker. Ivy was jealous of Anne, even in those moments of Anne’s gruesome death playing out.
Of course I don’t want her begging for another man’s life, as petty as that makes me.
“I’m sorry.” My jaw twitches again as I stare into her eyes.
Ivy’s eyes soften and her shaking hand rises to cup my cheek. “God, no, Noah. Don’t apologize.”
Chris help me, her tone.
My bleeding heart cracks open a little more. Of their own volition, my arms tighten, bringing her flush against my chest. Maybe it’s the effect of the drugs, but my feelings for her seem to explode in my chest.
Words get stuck in my throat.
“Now it’s Robert that’s hurt. Poor thing.”
Eyes snapping up, I glare at the speaker right in front of us, my blood boiling to get my hands around that bitch’s neck.
One day, I promise myself. One fucking day.
I have no idea how, but I’m getting Ivy and I out of here, and before we go, I will feel our captor’s life draining away beneath my hands.
Ivy shifts in my arms to stare at the same speaker I’m glaring at. “What do we have to do for you to spare him? Please. He doesn’t deserve to be here just because—”
“He still loves you? Wants you back? Oh, right, silly me” The cunt laughs maniacally. “It’s all because Noah can’t stand the fact that he’s had you, lost you, and won’t stop trying to convince you to return to him.”
She’s baring every single one of my deepest emotions, the dark primal ones that don’t make sense. The ones that make me question my maturity. Cause, really, what right did I have all these years to despise him for having Ivy?
And, fuck. If I lost her, I’d want her back too.
Robert is strapped to that steel gurney, a ball gag in his mouth, awaiting his execution.
All because I’m jealous of him.
Another chunk of my soul breaks off.
Suddenly, Ivy jumps in my arms, practically crawling backwards away from me.
Frightened eyes on the black room Robert’s in.
I whirl around to pinpoint what has her so scared.
Subtle movement by the corner of the room. What looks like a shadow separating itself from the inky blackness.
Slowly, it turns, and the white face comes into view.
A white latex face. No eyes. No holes for breathing. No mouth.
A white bandeau hugs the woman’s forehead. White gloves cover her hands.
Instantly, as she slowly walks away from the wall and the LED lights highlight her among the sea of black behind her, I recognize what she’s wearing.
It’s a bloody nun’s habit.
The woman approaches Robert with slow, methodical steps. Almost dainty. Halfway across the room, she pauses, and seems to pull something toward her.
A tray. A black tray, covered in a black cloth, both of which I can barely make out due to how they blend into the blackness of the room.
I have no doubt what’s beneath that cloth. My throat heaves. They’re going to do him like they did Anne. Slice him up in front of us.
Ivy’s going to be forced to watch.
The nun continues that slow walk, as if she has all the time in the world. Robert’s seen her by now, his head turned in her direction. I can only see the back of his head, but he’s practically seizing as he struggles to break his binds and escape.
“Isn’t Agnes beautiful?”
Agnes? What kind of sick shite is that?
Agnes stops and wheels the tray right next to the gurney. Her head rises to stare straight ahead.
Almost as if she’s looking at us. She doesn’t move for a long moment, remaining stone-still even as Robert’s thrashing begins to shake the entire gurney.
Ivy’s low sobs register. Instantly, I’m breaking away from that twisted image, head turned in her direction. I reach for her, and she reaches for me. Her expression worries me. Her pupils are too dilated.
“Stop!” I scream out, making Ivy jump and whimper. “She won’t handle seeing this. She won’t.” Pulling Ivy back to my chest, I caress her hair, trying to soothe her.
“Hmmm. And Noah, Ivy?” Ivy tenses, eyes widening with sudden fury. “Would you handle seeing Noah in there?”
Instead of answering, my girl starts crying. Full-on sobbing at the top of her lungs. When I pull her back to see what’s wrong, I see the massive guilt shining in her eyes.
She doesn’t want to have to answer that. She doesn’t want to break Robert’s heart like that right before he dies.
Just like I had to do with Anne.
“Didn’t think so. Now”—the sound of a double clap startles me—“Be a good audience and enjoy the show.”
With no other choice, Ivy and I both turn to stare at the murder about to take place before us.
Agnes is right where we left her. Hadn’t moved a muscle.
Then, out of nowhere, she slowly raises her arms up and to the side, her head tilting back in supplication to the heavens. A new, equally distorted voices begins speaking to us through the speakers.
No. Not to us. To Ivy.
“He must bleed for your salvation, Ivy. How does that make you feel?”