Twisted Together

Lynx shoved me again, spinning me around. I closed my eyes, suffering a rush of nausea. “Answer me, Mercer.”

I kept my lips pursed. He’d torn a scream from me but he wouldn’t get another.

He huffed. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, soon it will be in pieces on the floor.” He spun me again, stepping away and dropping the baseball bat. “Let’s loosen him up. I want him screaming.”

A man stopped my pendulum swing, slapping me to a halt. He smiled, his face hideous upside down. “Say goodbye, f**kwit.”

I sucked in a breath as he placed a heavy towel over my face. Shit. It blocked out everything. My warm breathing was trapped in the material. My hands clenched, hating the iciness of fear spiking my heart.

“I’m never afraid when I’m with you. Because I trust you.”

Tess filled my mind, giving me something to latch onto. I couldn’t see past the black towel, but I didn’t need to. I didn’t want to look at anything but the woman I wanted to marry.

My stomach clenched at the thought of anyone else making her happy. I couldn’t bear the idea of her falling for another or marrying someone completely unworthy. My forehead furrowed, loving the memories of her and hating them, too. Knowing I’d never see her again hurt more than anything Lynx could do.

I’d never see my perfect esclave again.

Je t'aime, Tess.

Fuck, I wanted this over with. I wanted to stop thinking and just…go.

I made a vow not to scream. I wouldn’t die a pu**y. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of tearing my life from an unwilling body. I’d brought this on myself—I’d been too proud—too cocky, and I would pay the worst kind of price.

“Do it,” Lynx ordered.

Water poured onto my face, seeping through the towel. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as liquid saturated the material, suffocating me drop by drop.

Waterboarding.

I’d seen it done. I’d witnessed a few women die from such a simple but very effective method of torturing.

The towel went from dry to soaked instantly, clinging like a heavy film over my mouth and nose. The weight of the material increased, smothering my face, giving me nowhere to turn or hide.

My mouth gaped, sucking at non-existent oxygen, breathing in wet towel and nothing else.

Don’t panic. Just let it happen.

It was fine to order myself to do something—entirely different when my body took over. Survival instincts kicked in. I thrashed, trying to dislodge the never ending stream of water.

My stomach clenched, overriding the numbness in my spine and bruises on every inch. I hurled upright, doing everything in my power to free my nose.

But it was no use.

Goddammit, let me breathe!

Time ceased to have meaning as the trickle became a downpour, no longer stealing my breath but forcing a torrent of water down my throat—drowning me in more ways than one.

“More. Give him more,” Dante demanded.

The water level increased until I gave up trying to breathe. It was pointless. Holding what little oxygen I had, I counted the seconds until I died.

One second.

Two seconds.

Another wash of liquid tickled my throat, running in rivulets over my hair.

Three seconds.

Four seconds.

There was no point being brave. I was about to die.

My heart chased the last breath around my lungs.

Five seconds.

Six seconds.

My body absorbed the final dregs of oxygen—nothing remained. My body was master now—not my mind. Death throes took me hostage. Muscles jerked, hurtling me toward death, desperately fighting the restraints.

I would’ve given every cent I owned to have one last breath. One inhale of sweet, sweet oxygen. Even Tess couldn’t distract me from the all-consuming need for air.

“I held on for you to find me. You came even when I didn’t think you would. Hold on, Q. I’m coming.”

Tess’s voice was angelic, cutting through my panic. I wanted to tell her I couldn’t. There was no point in her coming to find me. I wouldn’t be there when Franco’s team arrived. I no longer knew the timeframe after being unconscious.

But I didn’t need to know. I ran out of time the moment I refused to accept a blowjob from a slave.

Air. Please give me air.

My body danced in its chains, slowly growing weaker as blackness inched over my brain.

Then I got my wish.

The towel left my face, and I threw all dignity to the dogs. I gulped and gulped, sucking in air as if I was starving—which I was. Starved of the simplest thing a human required to live.

Then, I screamed.

The f**king cocksucker made me scream. I had no choice. I couldn’t contain the pain.

The agony came from my shin bone. Using the rapidly depleting muscles in my stomach, I curled upward, fixing onto the blood dripping from my sliced flesh. It trickled down my skin, running toward my groin.

Lynx stood beside me with a knife. The blade smeared with crimson. “We’re going to begin a game. Every breath must be paid by a cut.” His face moulded into the true devil. He cut me again, just below the first. I bit my lip against the sharpness—refusing to scream again.

“Every breath has a price. And when we get to here—”

Everything in me froze to ice. The tip of his knife wedged beneath my flaccid cock, raising the heavy organ from my stomach. Shit, shit. No, don’t.

The sharp blade exploded my heart with horror. Fuck, let me die.

“When we’ve used up your legs for payment…this comes next. I don’t expect you’ll survive much longer after that.” He twisted the blade, letting my c**k slap against my stomach. Lynx pressed the serrated edge against my balls, deliberately dragging the knife lower and lower, right to the base—right where he would eunuch me and let me bleed to f**king death.

My head pounded—the need to replace air to my oxygen-depraved body forgotten. The beast inside turned feral—wanting so damn much for freedom to mutilate him in the same way.

I wouldn’t have the opportunity to pay him back. I wouldn’t be able to take payment for what he would steal.

“You know why I’ll take this as my final trophy, Mercer?”

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to—he was high on whatever sick power trip he existed on.

“I gave you the opportunity to use it. If you’d blown down that girl’s throat I would’ve let you keep it. If you’d f**ked her in front of me, I would’ve let you walk away without torture. And if you’d killed her—like I know your sadistic tendencies make you want to—I would’ve forgotten this whole thing. Shit, I would’ve stood by you and assured the rest of the men who want a piece of you that you’re one of us. That the lies you told were for the media and not to the men you pretended to be like.”