Chapter 38
Noah
How long have I stood here, eyes locked with my own reflection, thoughts trapped in a whirlwind of desperation and hunger?
What seems like bloody hours.
The drugs start wearing off, leaving nothing but pure emotional pain and anxiety as I begin to crash. Somewhere in this place, the same might be happening to Ivy.
It’s the best I can hope for. I’d rather her be in a room, just like me, all done up and crashing instead of the alternative.
Someone getting their hands on my doll and hurting her.
The thought races through me, and the creature in the mirror transforms yet again. How many changes has it been now? Three? Maybe more? And with each one, the monstrous bloke in the reflection becomes more and more beastly.
More and more drunk on the bloodlust roaring in his veins.
He’s hungry for death.
So am I.
Yet, I don’t move. I don’t pace. I refuse to give these fuckers an ounce of joy at my rage. Yes, they’re driving me wonkers with uncertainty. The need to know where Ivy is, if she’s all right, is a brutal, unforgiving presence in my chest.
But the days of losing my shite for them are over.
I might be dead in the next few hours.
We both might be.
They’ve ripped enough emotions out of me. Have toyed with them. Held them up for both their perusal and entertainment. Forced me to experience things I wasn’t ready to face, all while they gorged on every single reaction.
The next one they get from me will either be due to Ivy, or because of the violence I plan to unleash. Period.
I remain here, standing, arms hanging limply at my sides, eyes trained on the mirror.
Until the lights suddenly go off.
Regardless, I don’t move. I don’t even blink. Just more of the same—me standing here, unmoving, waiting for what they’ll dish out next. There’s a voice in the back of my head wondering if this is it, if this is the end.
Despite the crash hitting me harder and harder, there’s still some logic. A small amount, yes, but it’s there, reminding me that they want both Ivy and me out there. That we’ve been done up, so our audience can have a final look.
A final taste.
I count the seconds in my head within the darkness. At sixty-four, the lights come back on.
All the calmness disappears in an instant.
“Noah?” Ivy gasps, standing less than fifteen feet from me, where the mirror was.
I’m so shocked by the sight of her that I can’t reply. My eyes trail over her, over how they’ve dressed her. In a mini-skirt version of a royal-blue, old-fashioned ball gown, the corset top displaying those fucking beautiful tits I love. The skirt only reaches mid-thigh, and of course they paired the outfit off with black thigh-highs and sky-high heels in the same color as that gown.
On her head is a headpiece made of royal-blue and black feathers.
Her eyes are blue in the strategically-placed lighting, a mixture of hunger, intent, and urgency that confuses my addled mind.
“Noah,” she whispers again, eyes trailing my face and the creature they drew upon it. Or is she seeing deep into the pit of me, where the evil has already sunk deep?
Holy shite, they’ve done her up like an exquisite, exotic sex doll. Played up every single asset she has, all with the goal of tempting whoever lays eyes on her.
Me.
Every twisted bastard and bitch that wants to fuck her before they kill her.
More fury. Despite the rapid crash, my entire body is firing up at the sight of her. Endorphins ignite in my bloodstream, pure, hot arousal that leaves me breathless and desperate.
And even through it all, I focus on her eyes. Her expression.
She’s trying to tell me something, but I’m too fucking high to decipher it. All I know is how badly I need her. Right here with me, in my arms.
We haven’t gotten the okay to touch each other. The fact they just left us in this room together without a single command is another game. Another mindfuck. One we’re expected to fully participate in, even as the drugs leech out of us, taking our brain chemicals on a spiraling, downward ride.
Even as the knowledge that they plan to kill us eats away at the back of our heads.
Fuck this.
“Ivy.” It’s the only warning I give before heading straight toward her, my hands already clenching and unclenching as I imagine her in them.
“I would love to know who gave you permission to go to her, Noah.”
It isn’t Valerie. It’s that man. Her partner.
Cracking my neck, I swallow back a fresh wave of fury and force my feet to stop. Now I’m less than five feet from Ivy, the scent of her reaching me across the short space. Calling me. Tempting me.
Reminding me that, if these bastards have their way, soon it’ll be gone. Taken from me.
Just like I’ll be taken from her.
“Good, Noah. Very good. Your progress brings me such pride.”
Progress.
Although this is the end of the line.
Although they plan for us to be dead by tomorrow.
Ivy’s eyes water, small hands trembling at her sides, and I know she’s thinking the same thing.
“I thought I’d come in and say my final goodbye. Normally, it isn’t something I do, but the two of you have brought us such boundless joy.”
No more. I’ve had enough of their cocked-up games. The chant goes through my mind, both distracting and aggravating me. It’s like that voice is separate from my own. Out of my control. An echo of my deepest, most urgent thoughts. A reminder that I’m on the brink myself, and I have no idea what’s going to greet me once I cross over to the other side.
All I know is the death I’ll bring about.
The manic desire to have Ivy back in my arms.
“Ivy, before we send you both out there, please tell me. What do you think of our artwork on Noah?”
Her stare travels all over my face, the same yearning I’m struggling with twisting her expression. “He looks fucking magnificent. Just as you all intended.”
Her compliment is yet another dose of gasoline for the fire consuming me. I want her so bad, want her just as much as I know everyone else is going to, and the thought alone chips away another piece of my sanity.
They plan to taste her. Be inside her. Feel her.
Right before they kill her.
Dead. I want them all dead.
“How about you, Noah? What do you think of our little ‘Ivy love’? Does she please you?”
How many times will I have to answer one of their invasive, rhetorical questions? My mind, fixated on the hourglass, answers the question for me.
If they have their way, this will be one of the last times I’m forced to answer.
My eyes bounce around, trying to see past the oppressive darkness surrounding Ivy and me, trying to find an opening.
More than that, trying to find some sort of weapon we can walk out of here with.
“Noah.” There’s a patient, almost fatherly disappointment in his tone. “You know better. You always have.”
“She pleases me more than anything on the planet ever could,” I answer on a roughened rasp, eyes connecting with Ivy’s again. “She always will because she’s everything, and you already know that. That’s why you picked us.” The brutal accusation in my voice can’t be hidden.
I hate every single one of them in a way I’m sure I’ll never come back from.
Even if we make it out alive, I’ll carry this with me until the end of my bloody life.
Even if I kill all of them, I’ll never get over how much I despise them all.
“The two of you should know . . . you were both a possibility for years and I did everything in my power to keep you out of here. Alas, your own denial made the audience hungry. They demanded you, and eventually we had to please them.”
Ivy swallows back her shock, but the way she stares at me tells me everything that’s going on in her head.
How she realizes exactly what I also have.
We weren’t just watched by whoever handles the “acquisitions” of this place. They must have shown us to their patrons a while before taking us. Shown our personal lives, how my Ivy denied her feelings, making an already tense situation between us unbearable.
She unknowingly morphed my hunger for her into a bloody obsession and they all picked up on it.
It’s why we were ultimately chosen.
Not just because Valerie wanted us to be, but because of her push for it until the audience became so enthralled, they just had to have us.
Guilt slams into Ivy like a freight train and her small sob wrecks me.
She knows.
She knows that if she hadn’t fought her feelings for me, we might never have ended up here.
As much as she’s become aware of the fact that one of our captors is on the mic, telling us more than he should, and it’s all because he knows he now can.
He thinks we won’t be leaving with the information he’s imparting.
When he doesn’t say anything, I notice he’s waiting on one of us to reply. “Okay. We get it. You showed us to the—”
“I didn’t. My overeager partner did. She was, however, correct in her assumption that over time they’d come to demand you both.”
And there’s the confirmation. Valerie, ultimately, is the one responsible. Something I need to help my doll understand if we get out of here. I can see the self-blame starting to eat at her. “Okay, and what’s the point of telling us all this?”
“It’s called ‘conversation,’ Noah. Don’t be so rude.”
Says that arsehole as he prepares to send us to our dooms.
Fisting my hands is the only way to make it through the next wave of rage.
Ivy blinks twice at me, that urgency returning to her stare. Her attempt at silently communicating isn’t lost on me, but until they let me near her, I won’t be able to do shite about it.
“Can I please just hold her to me? One last time before . . . you send us out there?” I call loudly over my shoulder.
“You’ll be able to touch her soon enough. Unfortunately, our time has run out. It’s time to have you both escorted to the ball.”
Our deaths, he means.
Survival instinct, more powerful and primal than I’ve ever felt, roars to life. I feel my body break out in a sweat beneath the layers of makeup and clothing. The only thing that keeps me steady is the look in Ivy’s eyes.
She’s trying to tell me something.
But what? Damn it. What?
Behind me, the unmistakable sound of the door sliding open fills the dark space.
The sound of those AKs being cocked . . .
And Ivy gives me an almost imperceptible nod.
Going on blind faith alone, I turn toward the guards as Ivy comes up next to me.
Softly, shyly, Ivy addresses our captor. “May I hold his hand on the way there?”
My heart cracks right down the middle at the thought that this could be it. This could be one of the last things I ever hear my doll say.
“Of course, you can, Ivy. After all, goodbyes are so difficult, aren’t they?”