Chapter Sevente en

Jacob

We were sick, twisted fucks. So much like my father, even though we hated him. From him, we learned to enjoy the beauty of death, and that beauty could only be achieved by the destruction of perfection. Jonathan was in his prime. Fresh off a kill. Invincible to the world. It was a perfect time to take him and break him. To snap every part of his psyche, and then, in the end, show him he was nothing. I was on her like a peeping Tom through the slat in her door. Watched her eyes dilate, her body quiver, and her nipples harden.

She was so fucking beautiful.

Covered in black and wearing a dangerous smile, she was my perfect woman. Fashioned by the devil, born of a demon, and tested through the fire, she’d come out made of pure stone and as pervasive as whispers in the dark. And I wanted her so much I could taste it. As my gaze traced her, I released my cock from my pants. It was thick and solid in my hand, swelling at the sight of her.

When she licked her lips, chuckling darkly, I twisted my hand around the end, the motion smooth and hot. Perfect, like her mouth would be. Blood covered her hands as she dropped the tool on her work table. I imagined her palming my balls, the warm stickiness coating me. My free hand found its way to my balls, cupping them. My hands were hers. My pleasure belonged to her.

I pumped my shaft, from base to tip, envisioning her graceful, deadly fingers gripping my length. She twisted her hand, grinning at the liquid leaking from the tip. And then she breathed over me—hot fucking fire—and it shot through me. Nerve endings pulsing with pleasure I turned my head and bit the black leather of my jacket, imagining it was her neck. Somehow, though, her mouth was still on me. Still taunting me with her tongue, her hot little mouth.

Pumping my hips, I stilled my hand so it was like I was fucking her face. Pushing my way, forcing myself between her lips and into her throat. So fucking good. So tight. The death grip I had on my length was better than anything I’d ever had. I couldn’t get hard for anyone else. Didn’t know what it was like to take a woman to my bed.

I’d saved it all for her.

She’d forgive me for training my cock with my hand. Teaching it to withstand pain. To last longer. To revel in darkness. She’d appreciate that I’d done so much for her. Waited when no one else would have. Proved I was all she ever needed, like I’d already promised her. And it would come soon. I’d have her. Be inside of her. Possess her. That thought was enough. My balls tightened against my palm. Throbbing, muscles clenching, I bit harder into my jacket. Swallowing the moans, I stayed quiet. I was close. Just there.

She pulled a large, square tarp next to her victim on the table before removing his straps. All it took was a push and he fell wetly onto the tarp. The sound. The smell. The vision. All of it pushed me harder. I choked my shaft, punishing it. Faster. I jerked my hips in an erratic rhythm. I needed to take her soon, but I needed this relief. This moment.

Please, Alana. Please, baby. I need this so much. I need you.

“I loved killing you,” she whispered.

It answered my prayers. We might be the death of each other, and that was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. Maybe we would go down in flames, but it would be our way. Pleasure violently swelled in the base of my stomach, spiraling and tingling its way through my body until I froze. On a precipice. We were stuck in a tableau—me on the outside looking in, her head bowed over her victim, and the dead man sweetening the atmosphere. There, right there, I came, spurting white shit across the dark hallway. The pleasure chased away everything but the three of us bonded in this moment of violence and pleasure.

It lasted until my legs gave out, and I used the wall to hold myself up. I stayed there, trying to control my breathing. To stop my shaking hands so I could put away my still-hard cock. But it was amazing, so amazing. A few steps and I’d have her. I was right there. Finally calm enough, I stuffed myself back into my pants. With the door cracked, I’d be able to get through easily enough.

She tucked the body into the tarp and started pulling toward the door where I was standing. Shit. I sprinted away and pushed into a darkened alcove off to the side of the end of the hallway. A few seconds later, I had a black mask pulled down over my face and neck and tucked my hands into black gloves. Pushing as far back into the darkness as I could, I banked on her being preoccupied with moving her victim.

She passed right by me.

I stayed in place as she dragged the man to her car and popped her trunk. It took a few minutes of her struggling with the weight of the body, but she got him in there and slammed her trunk closed again. She stopped to take a breath before getting into her car. From my vantage point, I could see her back out through the singular entrance into the warehouse on ground level. Once her car was out of sight, I left the alcove and ran to where she’d disappeared from. I could then see her take the path out toward the water I hadn’t been able to find.

“Clever girl, moving around the container units like that.”

Good to know. I wouldn’t be keeping Alana here for long. She had to know who was boss and get acclimated to me being back. Once she did, we’d be able to go home, to the house she’d bought, and live like we should have been. I needed to make sure I knew how to get us out of here.

“Now it’s time to get ready.”

Back in her killing room, I looked around to get to know her tools and move them as far away as I could from her capture zone. Wouldn’t want her getting her hands on any of that stuff when I snatched her. Then I went searching for her cages. She had space to eat in off to the side of her killing area. Not bad. It wasn’t for long-term stays; it was for coming and going, and that would work well enough for me.

There was nowhere to sleep, which told me she came and went when she was finished torturing her victims for the day. There had to be a cage room, and it could only be so far from where she broke them. She wouldn’t have the strength to move them long distances without risking them fighting back. I went back to the first room and looked for some sort of entrance. There wasn’t any.

“What the fuck? There has to be something here. I’m not looking hard enough.”

I shuffled around the edge of the room, and my shoe got caught on a handle. “What’s this here?”

When I lifted it, I found her cage. It was deep enough that a man could squat but not stand, and it wasn’t wide enough to lie down. There was nowhere for him to use the bathroom, so he was stuck in filth if he didn’t wait until she opened it and let him out. No, I was wrong. There as a bedpan off to the side, but it would be exceptionally difficult to use. Near the cage was a dart gun.

“So she knocks them out and drags them to the table, waiting until they wake up. Yeah, I officially want to marry this girl.”

And now I knew where I was going to keep her.

It was two hours later before I heard the sliding of her entrance gate, but I waited. No killer left their space unkempt if they had to come back and use it again. The time after the murder was the most important time to remove all traces of evidence. I had already done it for her—everything was pristine and perfectly clean. Aside from moving them around to better accommodate me, I took very good care of her tools. Now, I waited on the blindside of her door for her to enter. I tracked her progress toward me due to her lack of concern for the noise she made. My hands were cool and steady, my mind clear. I knew exactly what I was going to do, and I had her cage open and ready for her.

I was going to have my woman. My toy. Finally, after all this time.

First things first, though, I slid a few pastries into her toaster. Blueberry Pop-Tarts. I wondered if she’d remember me by the smell. When the door opened, Alana walked through confidently, cleaned of the blood and now wearing a simple, blue sundress. Easy to remove. Nice. She paused when she saw the slab was gleaming silver, and then she sniffed. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t react. That was all the time I needed.

“Honey, I’m home. Would you like a Pop-Tart? They’re blueberry, of course.”

She spun around, sinking into a crouch, but I was bigger, stronger. I spearheaded her, taking her down to the ground. Air rushed out of her in a loud whoosh, and then I was on top of her. She wasn’t that young, high school girl now. She was a killer, and she didn’t give in easily. Balling her fists, she swung hard and fast at my stomach. I caught the hit, grunting, but I didn’t let her go. In the morning I’d be sore. She kicked and raged, but she couldn’t break my hold.

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Now, that’s no way to welcome your man home, Alana. You’re my toy, and you know the proper way to greet me. Or do I have to punish you already?”

She froze, eyes wide. For a few moments, I saw fear—pure, unadulterated fear—before rage replaced it. And then she was wilting under my hands and staring at my face in wonder.

“Jacob?” Her voice was disbelieving.

“In the flesh. I told you that you belonged to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Alana. You will always belong to me. And that shit you did was a no-no. You don’t kill anyone without me. Ever again.” The anger was back, and she bucked, trying to throw me off. It wasn’t enough.

“I won’t belong to anyone again! Never. I’ll kill you first.”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s why I came back to you. You say the nicest things. You promise?”

Her confused gaze met mine. There was so much there—anger, fear, and, under it all, some sense of hope. The need for someone who understood her. Could handle her. Love her. I could do that. I could be that man. But she had to be broken before I could build her up again. She couldn’t see past the history that bound us. It was ruining what we could have. I wouldn’t have it anymore.

She didn’t answer my question, and I didn’t think she would.

She did come back to life in my arms, a knife in her hand I didn’t know she’d been hiding, slashing toward my face.

I slammed her wrist against the ground until she released it.

“Noel, Mommy’s back now,” I said.

Tears filled her eyes and she swung again, going wild. “Don’t you say his name. Not his. Jacob, don’t do this. Don’t.”

“You have to fall down, Alana, before I can pick you back up. But I promise I will.”

And then I punched her in the temple. She crumpled, and I stood up. It hurt to bring her pain, but it was good too. My body was alive, enjoying what was to come, imagining all the things I’d do to her. The shit she’d do to me. I opened the cage door and pinned it so it wouldn’t fall, then I went back to her.

I picked her up in my arms and looked at her. Her golden hair, the large crescents of her eyelashes shielding her green eyes. Her soft strands of hair caressed like air against my arm. Her skin was smooth and clean, so clean. Shifting her weight, I stood her against me and pulled the dress from her. The thin straps ripped, and then it puddled to the ground.

She was so beautiful. Her heavy, full breasts were still tipped with slightly darker nipples. The hair covering her mound was trimmed, but it wasn’t to my liking. She needed to be bare. Clean. I’d take care of that on her first day of training when she was awake and would have to listen to my orders. We were here, together.

I carried my precious cargo into her cage and laid her on the disgusting ground. She was an angel about to be trapped in hell. I couldn’t wait to see how she came out of it. I wondered if I could control Nila—that dark side of her, that murderous bitch who would bend to my will—or if I would have to break that out of her and only leave Alana.

I hoped I could have them both. That we could face the world together and get rid of so much filth. There were so many people to kill. So many who deserved retribution. And Alana and I were the two to do it.

As I closed her cage door and locked it, I hoped we would survive the path to that glorious future.