Caspian told me his darkest secret, but I can never tell him mine. I forgave him. He would never forgive me.

Everything has changed since I killed Roman. We’ve been home a week, and it’s almost like we are a normal couple. We don’t talk about me leaving, or giving me my freedom anymore. I already have my freedom. I got it the day he tracked down Roman for me to kill and then let me keep the gun. Any time I want to use it to leave, I could.

But I don’t want to leave.

Caspian’s home is becoming my home. His desires are becoming mine. We both want the same thing.

Revenge on Dante Russo.

We want him to hurt as much as possible, and then when he’s done hurting, we want to kill him.

We don’t talk about it. Instead, we talk about normal things. The weather, food, drinks, our day. But it’s always on our minds. Even when we are fucking.

Our desire for revenge is too strong for anything else. And I’m tired of not talking about it. Once it’s done, then we can focus on what the hell we are doing together. What our future could hold. Until it’s over, we are trapped in our revenge.

At one point revenge was my freedom, but now I’m afraid it’s starting to hold me back.

Caspian is sitting outside on his computer. He usually sits there after dinner, soaking in the last drops of sunlight on his computer. I usually sit next to him reading a book. But today, I helped Michi clean up the dishes first. So when I finally join Caspian outside, the sun has all but set.

“You ready to go inside?” he asks when I join him.

“No.”

He glances up from his computer, sensing the trepidation in my voice.

“When are we going to kill Dante?” I ask. I know he has a plan, he just hasn’t shared it with me yet.

He closes his computer, and I’m afraid he’s closing our conversation.

“Soon, but I’m not sure I can bring you with me, or if I do if I can let you kill him. I’ve been planning this for five years. I need to be the one to kill him. I can’t just hand you the gun like I did with Roman.”

It hurts that I won’t be the one to kill him, but as long as he’s dead, it doesn’t matter. “I understand.”

He narrows his eyes. “How could you? My wife was taken from me, but you were the one who went through so much. And I let it happen.”

I grab his face and kiss him softly, annoyed even though I’ve forgiven him, he still hasn’t forgiven himself.

“Stop. I understand. I didn’t die. I didn’t lose anything. You did.”

He turns away, not able to look at me. I hate it when he does this. Shuts me out. I know he doesn’t owe me anything. We aren’t in a real relationship. I don’t even know what “we” are. But it still hurts.

He turns back. “Take your revenge out on me.”

I frown. “No, I forgive you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

His thumb strokes my cheek before he pulls me onto his lap. “I need you to. I can’t forgive myself. My nightmares are no longer about Clara. They are about you. Every night I have a nightmare about what Dante did to you. I hate myself for letting him lay a hand on you, much less hurt you every night. I can’t live with myself. Take out your revenge on me.”

I search his eyes and find him near breaking. He needs this. And when I search my heart, I realize I do too. I may have forgiven him, but it still hurts. I need to let the pain go. And this might be how.

“Okay.”

He lifts me and sets me down on my feet. Then he gathers his computer and empty wine glass and walks inside. I follow after, both terrified and exhilarated with what is about to happen.

He sets the computer and glass down on the counter where Michi is still cleaning.

Caspian looks at Michi, and he knows. Michi really needs his own place if Caspian is going to keep kicking him out. Michi heads out without a word.

Then, Caspian walks to the bedroom. My feet can barely move, but I make it somehow. Must be muscle memory that moves me.

I stand in the doorway and watch as Caspian gathers items. Whips, chains, floggers, knives, anything destructive he can find. He lays them all out on the bed. And then he starts undressing. Removing his shirt slowly, then his pants, until he’s standing in nothing but his underwear. He considers his next move for a second and then he removes his boxers too. It’s not sexual. He’s baring his all to me.

And I’ve never seen a stronger man.

“Please,” he whispers, and I know what he’s asking. Please make the pain go away, for both of us.

Then he lies down on the bed and waits.

I take a couple of deep breaths, letting go of the compassion I have for Caspian and let the hate I’ve pushed away back in.

He could have saved me but didn’t.

I repeat those words over and over until I’m lost in them. Then I stomp toward the chains, knowing I have to tie him up. No matter how much he says he wants this, as soon as the first crack of pain hits him, he will try to stop me. For this to work, he has to be completely vulnerable.

So I pick up the metal cuffs and loop one around the post and then attach the cuff to his wrist. He looks at me with sad eyes but doesn’t say anything. He just watches. I feel the fear oozing off of him, but know it has nothing to do with the pain he’s about to feel. It has everything to do with us. Where will we be when this is over?

I walk to his other arm and attach it to the bed, doing the same to his legs.

“Try to break free,” I command.

He pulls hard with his arms and legs, but he can’t move.

I nod and then close my eyes. Filling everything in me with the memories of Dante. Him striking me, beating me, raping me. His cock driving into me is what does it the most. So I focus on the image. Of what it felt like to have a cock push into me when I’m dry and unwilling. The burn, the violation, the pain. I let it consume me, and then I open my eyes.

I don’t see Caspian lying on the bed; I see Dante.

I grab the first item I can find. A bat. I bring it high over my head and then I beat down on the broken body in front of me.

“I fucking hate you!” I scream as I hit the body hard in the stomach. I can’t see anything but rage.

I lift the bat and strike again and again. I’m rewarded with a loud groan each time, but it’s not enough. I want the screams I let out every time Dante hurt me.

I strike his chest one more time with the bat before I move onto the whip.

I don’t know if it will hurt more or less, but I plan on using every instrument I can until I hear the screams.

I’m not as skilled with the whip, so my first attempt misses, hitting the bed. But my second strike hits my target’s legs. His legs jump at the sting, leaving bright red welts.

It’s not enough.

I’ve formed the bruises on him with the bat. I’ve formed the redness with the whip. I need the scars. I need the cries.

The cock inside me was one of the worst. The absolute worst. I don’t want to fuck this man. He doesn’t deserve a second of my pleasure. But the next worst thing was the sharpness of the blade. Knowing he could take my life if he wanted with a slip of the knife.

I grab the sharp blade, and then I climb onto Dante’s body. I straddle his hard chest as I hold the knife to his neck as he has to me so many times before.

“Do it. I deserve it,” he says.

I freeze the knife over his artery. He does deserve it. He deserves to die.

I shove the knife hard against his neck until I see blood. But I still don’t hear screams. I need his screams! I need to know I hurt him as badly as he hurt me.

I remove the knife from his neck and aim for his heart, stabbing his chest.

He screams. It’s high pitched and terrifying, and it feeds my soul. I want more.

I stab him again. He’s going to get a slow torturous death.

“I’m so sorry, Gia. I’m so sorry. I deserve this.”

His voice makes me stop. That isn’t the voice of Dante.

I stop the knife and close my eyes, trying to push the hate back down. When I open again, I see Caspian on the bed. Bleeding to death.

“No! Oh my god! What did I do?”

I jump off of him, dropping the knife and race to get the first aid kit.

When I climb back on the bed, his breathing has slowed, and his eyes have grown heavy.

“Shh, you did nothing wrong. You did what had to be done. And if I die, it’s what needs to happen,” Caspian says.

I pull out gauze, covering the wound to attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Don’t talk like that. You aren’t going to die.”

But I’m not sure. There is a lot of blood. I don’t think I hit his heart, but I hit something major.

“Michi!” I yell, hoping he’s in the house or nearby. I get no answer.

I glance at the handcuffs I used to restrain him. I need the key to release him. He’s going to die restrained to his bed if I don’t help him.

Fuck.

But if I worry about releasing him, he will definitely die.

I dig through the first aid kit while I keep applying pressure with my other hand. I find the stapler and drugs I requested Michi stock after the last time Caspian was injured. I don’t have time for morphine though.

“It’s going to be okay,” I say calmly. I take out the stapler.

“Look away,” I tell him. He turns his head and bites his lip knowing more pain is coming. I staple the wound over and over. Each time the pain ripping into his heart. Each time I pray he doesn’t die because of me. What was I thinking? I have no control over my demons.

“One more,” I say as the last staple goes in.

I press the gauze back, and the bleeding has reduced greatly.

I exhale deeply. He’s going to be okay. He needs a hospital, but he’s going to survive.

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

I look at him, but he doesn’t respond.

“Caspian?”

Nothing.

I lower my head over his chest. He isn’t breathing.

Shit.

I blow into his mouth and start doing compressions.

“Please, Caspian!”

I keep compressing over his heart, praying his staples don’t pop open and the bleeding doesn’t start all over again.

“Don’t you dare die, Caspian!”

More compressions, but he’s not breathing.

“You are going to be an uncle. You hear me! You can’t die!”

More compressions.

“I need your help to kill Dante. Clara can’t be avenged without your help.”

Two breaths.

“I love you. Please don’t leave me.”

More compressions.

Then, coughing.

“Caspian!” He’s alive.

I ease off him, letting him get some good breaths in.

“Thank god, you’re alive,” I cry. Tears are streaming down my face. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“Liar,” Caspian teases.

More tears. “I can’t believe you let me do that. What were you thinking? I could have killed you! You should have stopped me.”

“I couldn’t exactly stop you with the cuffs. And I would have deserved it.”

“No! You don’t deserve to die.”

He tries to comfort me but can’t because he’s still tied up, but I can’t leave him for a second right now to grab the key from the bathroom.

So I lay my head on the uninjured side of his chest. I need to get Michi to help me get him to a hospital soon, but right now I can’t move him.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper as tears stream from my eyes to his chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry for; you saved me.”

“No, I didn’t. I almost killed you.”

“No, you killed Dante. You killed the pain in me for what I let happen to you. You let go of your own trauma. And now, we can survive so much stronger. We helped each other heal.”

I nod, not believing he is comforting me right now after I just killed him.

“I almost let you die; you almost killed me. I saved you; you saved me. I think we are even now. We can move forward and decide our future without anything holding us back.”

I know his words are true. And I wish he was right. That we are even now. But we aren’t even close to even. He might have been selfish, but everything he did was for Clara Conti, a woman who deserved his love. I may love Caspian Conti, but I don’t deserve to be loved in return. I don’t know if he heard any of my words when he was out. I hope he didn’t because I don’t want him to love me in return.

He may have hurt me, but I’m the real monster.