EIGHT
I know what’s about to happen. It’s so obvious that I’m surprised I’m not rushing to cover my eyes. My hearing becomes muffled, as if I’m in a tunnel. Above the pressure, I make out the sound of Noah’s voice, begging for Anne’s life again.
My entire body heats up and I lose control of my breathing. My fists clench at my sides.
I can’t look away from that massive man that’s approaching Anne from behind. He has to be at least 6’ 5”, and he’s almost as wide as he is tall.
The front of his body is covered by a black, rubber apron. I can’t make out the color of the moisture on it, but I’m almost sure that’s Anne’s blood reflecting the light.
Her blood coats everything within the room: walls, floors, lighting . . . him.
The man’s face is hidden by a mask—a gold, plague doctor’s mask. Like the ones that were used during the 1400s in Europe. The beak of the mask has splotches of red on it.
There’s no way to see his eyes behind the two large black lenses, and yet, I feel him staring.
At me.
At my breasts.
At my entire bared body.
I can’t even move to cover myself. I’m frozen. Trapped in my own body. An unwilling observer.
On his head he’s wearing a powdered, gray wig. The outfit beneath the apron is the equivalent of a middle ages French aristocrat.
These people are beyond sick. I don’t think there’s even a word to describe what I’m witnessing.
I see a small amount of blood on the shoulder of his elaborately designed gold-and-white coat. My eyes fall to his feet, to the pair of old-fashioned men’s heels and the gold buckles on them.
Those heels are the only part of him completely soaked in her blood.
My heart thumps painfully inside my chest; my body’s signal that this is affecting me.
But, mentally, all I sense is that numb buzzing. I know I should be freaking out. I should be right next to Noah, banging on that glass, begging for her life.
But I can’t. My body is unwilling to cooperate in the plea to save her.
It doesn’t matter that I barely know her and that I can’t stand her. No one deserves to die like this . . .
The man stops right behind Anne and reaches to run the backs of his gloved fingers down her face. She flinches and starts crying even harder at his touch. Her fear is palpable.
Gently, almost lovingly, he moves her hair away from her ear. In his other hand, the light glints off the edge of a scalpel.
Then, he reaches for her ear.
Noah slowly backs away from the glass, his chest heaving. The masked man pauses after grabbing Anne’s ear. She struggles against her bindings, but there’s nowhere to go.
No stopping him.
Even her neck is tied to the cross behind her.
The man lifts the scalpel.
Noah turns and runs to me, blocking my view with his large body. When he cups my face with both hands, I dimly register how freezing they are. “Love?”
I look into his eyes. He studies me worriedly.
“Noah, step out of the way. You will both watch this.”
“She’s in shock! Look at her!”
“Is she in shock? . . . Or is she enjoying this? Which one is it, Ivy?”
Finally, something other than dulled anger penetrates the fog. I blink and lick my lips, struggling to make sense of what I’m feeling.
Hold on. What did she just ask me?
“Don’t listen to her, baby,” Noah says. “Of course you aren’t enjoying this.”
I step away from him.
“Let me explain the rules of our new game. If you don’t want me to hand Ivy over to him—”
Noah’s hand shoots out to grab my own, halting my backwards progress.
I need to be away from him. From everyone. I . . . I don’t want anyone here to see . . .
“Or is she enjoying this? Which one is it, Ivy?”
“—you’re both going to watch every second of my little doll’s death, and you will answer any question I ask you during it. Do you both understand?”
“Fine. I’ll answer,” Noah snaps, his eyes not leaving mine even for a second. He tugs on my hand. “Ivy. Agree. Now.”
Almost as if watching my body from afar, I see myself nodding at him slowly. “Fine. I’ll answer.”
Noah’s brow furrows at my mimicked answer.
Even to my own ears, my tone sounded cold. Detached.
“Good. Some common sense from both of you. Now, Noah, step out of Ivy’s way so we can all enjoy the show.”
Growling under his breath, he steps around me, until his front is pressed against my back.
He’s shaking.
His arms come around me, one draping over my breasts. His cold skin presses against my nipples. Immediately, I feel them harden, and I gasp as a bolt of pleasure tightens my womb.
His other hand stops an inch in front of my pussy, covering me but not touching me.
“Hm . . . It turns you on, doesn’t it, Ivy? Even with what’s happening, his touch gets you so wet. Right?”
Noah’s arm tightens around me, bringing me flush against him.
He’s . . . he’s hard?
“What did I say about answering me?” The words are gritted out.
Feeling Noah’s erection gives me the courage to be honest. “Yes. It turns me on.” I drop my eyes so I don’t have to look at Anne while I confess.
Noah’s erection throbs against my ass and his low groan vibrates into my back.
“Good. How about you, Noah? Does the feel of her body make your dick hard?”
“You know it does,” he grits out behind me.
“Now, eyes on our performers, please.”
I do as she said and see the masked man has been standing behind Anne all this time, holding her ear between the thumb and index finger of his gloved hand.
There’s a tiny bit of static and then the sounds from inside that room once again fill ours.
Anne’s tiny whimpers.
Her hoarse pleas for her life.
The panting, excited breaths of her executioner.
“Noah. Do I have to remind you to look?”
He must obey, because the man finally moves.
Like a knife cutting through butter, he slices her ear clean off.
That muffled pressure falls over my mind again, disconnecting me from the reality before me.
I see it all. Can hear it all.
But I feel nothing.
Anne’s shriek still makes me flinch despite my apathy.
Noah’s arms lock so tight around me that I struggle to breathe.
Anne’s ear is deposited onto another silver tray next to her. Same tray where the carved pieces from her body are being collected.
The man walks around to her front and bends down to rub the beak of his mask across her cheek. Right below the empty socket where her eye once was. Almost looks doting.
He continues to rub that twisted mask along her face, as if praising her.
Or is he thanking her?
He’s still giving her that sick form of affection. Placing the scalpel right on her thigh, he pauses—
And slices another chunk of skin off.
The world around me disappears until it’s nothing but darkness and far away sounds.
Her screams are constant, at first escalating, then slowly tapering down to nothing more than pain-filled sobs.
Noah’s growling behind me. I feel it more than hear it.
Eventually, Anne’s screams disappear entirely and an insidious little voice whispers through my mind.
That low rumbling vibrates beneath our feet—the wall is sliding closed again.
It’s over.
She’s dead.
“There now. See? That wasn’t so bad.”
The body at my back disappears. That’s all I register aside from the sounds.
“Ivy? Ivy?” Hands grab my arms and give me a little shake. “Baby . . . Doll, please. Talk to me. Blink. Anything.” His voice trembles on the last word.
I try. God help me I try.
Why can’t I see anything?
Those hands are back, cupping my face. I’m brought closer to the body before me.
Noah. That’s Noah.
Noah, who just watched a woman he cares for get sliced up and murdered. I can’t see but I can feel that she’s dead. Gone.
“Ivy, you’re scaring me,” he whispers, lips brushing my cheek.
“And here I thought she’d be pleased with my gift.”
“Stop talking about her like that! She isn’t a bloody monster like you.”
Am I not?
Her question to me earlier is still circling in the back of my mind. “Or is she enjoying this? Which one is it, Ivy?”
“You’re right. She might be in shock. Guess it’s time for another little experiment.”
“No. Stop. Please, okay? I’ll do whatever you want, but leave her alone. She isn’t okay right now.”
“And I think I know just what she needs . . . although, the promise of doing anything I want? I’ll be holding you to that later. Now, Ivy, if you can hear me, I want you to know that if you don’t snap out of it right now, I’m going to send my good friend Jacques in there to slice Noah up next.”
It’s instant. In a rush, all visual returns, and the bombardment of sight is so powerful that it leaves me shaken.
Shivering, I blink and meet Noah’s eyes.
His are glowing with shock.
And something else. Something more potent.
More dangerous.
He grabs me to him, wrapping me up in his huge, bare arms, pressing me to his smooth, hard chest.
I can see now. I’m aware of my surroundings. Of the emotions threatening to take me under.
But I can’t stop my trembling. Can barely begin to make sense of what’s happening.
No. What happened.
I don’t want to think about it. I’m not strong enough. I can’t . . .
Noah presses his lips to my ear and I can’t hold back a whimper. “You just scared the shite out of me, love.”
I can tell. His heart is a thunderous beat beneath my ear.
“See? The two of you are simply fascinating. That connection is just . . .” A low sigh echoes through the speakers. “We’ll explore more of that tomorrow. And, if you’re obedient, you might even get fed.”
Who the fuck can even think about food at a time like this?
A vision of Anne’s broken body flashes through my mind.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I snuggle closer to Noah and force it to the back of my mind.
“For now, both of you need to get some rest. Oh, and control yourselves. No giving each other pleasure until I tell you to.”
That low static signals the mic being turned off.
Noah eases me back and tries to get me to look at him.
I do, but I’m barely making sense of what I’m seeing. My body won’t stop shaking.
His worried expression hardens with anger. “You’re in fucking shock.”
I am, aren’t I? I must be. My body doesn’t feel like my own. Like I’m disconnected from it.
I barely register when Noah begins leading me back toward the bed, his cold, trembling hand wrapped around my own.