The Truths We Seek, page 20
She makes me feel invincible. Like nothing is impossible. Breathing life and light back into me when, before her, I thought I’d never feel this. I accepted that that was my life. My karma.
But then she arrived and turned everything I thought I knew upside down.
Placing my hand on the door latch, I look down at her again. “If you don’t like your gift, we can leave. There is zero pressure.”
She barks out a laugh, her eyes dancing with joy. “I don’t know whether to be scared or really fucking excited after an introduction like that. Your mind is a beautiful and twisted place, Meyer Marino. Now show me my present!”
I chastely press my lips to hers, not allowing myself any more... yet.
Opening the door, I motion for her to enter. “Ladies first.”
Her giggle sounds again as she shakes her head. “We both know I’m no lady. Female yes, and I can absolutely pretend to be a lady if the situation calls for it…”
She trails off, poking her tongue out at me as she walks by, so I swat her ass, enjoying the squeak it pulls from her. I follow along behind her as she retraces the hall I walked her down when we came to see Harper, but she pauses at the end, looking back to me before turning right like we did last time.
“This way.” Taking her hand, I lead her left, to where the monster who I know still haunts her nightmares is waiting for us.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to vomit?” she asks, her voice quiet as we reach the door to the warehouse. Thankfully, the soundproofing means even if he’s awake and making noise, she has no idea what’s on the other side of the door.
Pausing, I turn her to face me and cup her chin. “What waits for you on the other side of the door is a choice. If you decide to not accept it, that’s okay. If you choose to accept it, that’s also totally okay. This is a choice that no one is going to take from you, but regardless of what happens, you are still loved, you are still worthy, and you still deserve the world.”
Tears fill her eyes and she blinks them back, her hands clasping my forearm where I have a hold on her chin. She squeezes my arm and takes a deep breath. “Thank you.” The words are quiet, almost like a prayer, so I kiss her and show her that my words are more than words. I pour every ounce of truth, love, adoration, and outright fucking obsession I have for her into it. Her hands move from my arm to my chest, where she clutches to me like I’m her lifeline in a storm, activating that primal, caveman part of me that really fucking enjoys her bending to my will.
“Okay,” I murmur, breathless. “We need to stop. Otherwise, we’re not making it to the other side of that door.” She pouts up at me, and I laugh once. “Oh, Kitten, we will definitely be finishing what we started, we’re just pushing pause.”
I kiss her again and she nips at my lips. “Naughty little kitten. Playing with fire.”
Her eyes dance with delight and I take a deep breath, trying to will away the hard on that’s very much on show. “Come on, present time.”
Opening the door, I step into the warehouse first, knowing she’s behind me from the sound of her footsteps. She steps around me and I know she sees him when her breath hitches.
“Trent?”
He’s hanging from the beam by metal chains that are attached to the cuffs on his wrists. The ones Rory said he used on her, his own version of poetic justice.
She looks back at me, questions in her eyes. “This is your gift, Quinn. We have gotten the info we could from him, but Rory says he’s done talking. We could have dealt with it, but after everything, I wanted to give you the option to do it yourself. To own the downfall and eradication of that monster, both in reality and in your head.”
Trent splutters a laugh from across the room. “She won’t do it. She’s weak. She’ll fail at your test like she’s failed at everything her entire life. Then you won’t want her, the way no one else has ever wanted her. Except me. I loved her and look where it got me.”
Rage courses through my veins but I keep my gaze on the blonde before me. Emotions flicker over her face, but I watch as she works through it, takes a breath, and then there’s peace.
“Thank you,” she says to me, holding out her hand. I pull the gun from my waistband and hand it to her, keeping a grip on it while ignoring the laughter that still comes from Trent, despite him being half dead already. He’s only alive because Rob put him on a feeding tube and IV. It takes a lot not to just shut him up myself, but she deserves this kill.
To quiet that voice in her head.
Sometimes the only way to quiet something is to know that it is truly gone and never coming back.
“You don’t have to do this, but all that bullshit he spewed was exactly that. Bullshit. You can do this, but if you don’t want to, we can just go home and someone else will deal with the issue for us.”
“Give me the gun, Meyer.” Her voice is low but her conviction is unwavering so I release my hold on it.
“I meant it when I said no one wanted you.” Trent’s words make me clench my fists. “Even after your parents took you, they realized they fucked up. You know they’re not your actual parents, right? They kidnapped you, wanted the ransom money for their next hit, but even your birth parents didn’t want you. Wouldn’t pay up. Unwanted by all except me. And you ran from me. YOU RAN FROM ME!”
What the actual fuck is he talking about? She was taken? I watch her, but it’s like she can’t hear his words. Like she’s lost in her head.
“YOU DON'T GET TO RUN FROM ME.” Trent shouts, and a shot goes off, my ears ringing in the aftermath.
Watching her stand there, gun in hand, facing down the man who has tormented her most of her adult life, brings out the animal in me. This might not be the first life she’s taken, but it’s the first intentional one.
Except her hand doesn’t shake, even though she’s hesitating to pull the trigger for a second time. The first shot hit his thigh and he screamed like a bitch, but now he’s silent again, his jaw clenched, and it’s taking everything I have to stay rooted to the spot. To not make him hurt some more for everything he’s done to her.
She tilts her head while she observes him. He’s already broken and bleeding, a few weeks at Rory’s mercy will do that to a man, but he still looks at her like he thinks she won’t do it.
Like she’s not strong enough.
He’s always underestimated her, but that’s his problem.
He has no idea how strong my girl is.
“Quinn?” I call out her name to pull her from the racing thoughts I can see running through her mind as they play out in her eyes. “I know I gifted him to you, but if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”
Her hand remains trained on him—apparently Rory has taught her well in their sessions—while she turns her gaze to face me. “I know I don’t have to. But he has taken so much from me. A bullet feels too quick. Too kind.”
A laugh falls from me as I grin at her. “That’s my girl. It doesn’t have to be quick, depends where you put the bullet. But as you can see, Rory’s had plenty of fun with him too.”
A grin spreads on her face. “Oh, I can see.”
She turns that slightly sadistic smile back to Trent, whose eyes widen when he takes in the sight of her. I imagine he’s finally seeing who she’s truly become.
“I knew you were like me,” he grunts and her smile widens.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m nothing like you. The demons that live inside of me were created, not born. They were raised by many monsters, so my demons... they’re worse than you could ever imagine.”
He laughs, spluttering a cough in the middle of it. “Even if you kill me, I’ll still be with you Quinn. You’ll never be rid of me because those demons will always haunt you and I helped create them.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She tilts her head again, raising her hand so the gun is in line with his head rather than his heart. “Once you’re gone, you’ll fade to nothing but a whisper of the past that will be forgotten. I’ve wasted enough of my life, my energy, on you. Life is for the living, and you? You’re not worth another moment of my time.”
She pulls the trigger, her body taking the brunt of the recoil like a pro, despite the gun being too big for her. The bullet enters his head, the back of his skull exploding from the caliber of the bullet as it exits, but she’s close enough for the spatter to coat her.
“I thought a bullet was too quick?” I ask her, half teasing, half trying to gauge her.
Turning to me, she’s still as calm as a placid lake, despite the blood running down her cheek.
The sight of it has me hard as a fucking rock. Probably shows just how fucked up I am, but who gives a shit?
“It was, but I didn’t want to give him another second of my time.” She walks over to me and hands me the gun, which I put down on the metal tray behind me before grabbing her cheeks, kissing her with every ounce of need coursing through my veins. She grips the front of my shirt, no doubt smearing blood on the white material, but somehow that makes me want her more.
“Are you okay?” I ask once I can bring myself to pull back from the kiss. Her grip doesn’t loosen as she looks up at me, my own passion reflected back at me on her face.
“I am more than okay,” she responds, unbuttoning my shirt. “But I could definitely be better.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I stroke my thumb through the blood on her face and the animal inside of me takes over.
I bring my finger to her bottom lip and, without taking her eyes from mine, she sucks my thumb into her mouth and licks up every drop of blood that I'd wiped off.
Is it sanitary? Probably not. Do I care? Not even a little bit because the lust coursing through my veins is boiling hot and my dick is hard enough to cause real pain.
As the corners of her lips tick up in a smile that resembles Rory's psychotic one, I realize that she has a piece of us, all three of us, inside of her and it only makes me love her more.
As my finger slides out with an intended pop, my body reacts on instinct.
Our shoes kicked off.
Her pants gone.
My fly unzipped.
Her shirt sliced open and hanging freely.
My dick out.
Her panties ripped off.
When I have her exactly as I want her—all lusty-eyed and panting—I grip her hips and slam her on the metal table that's usually reserved for some fucked up shit. Neither one of us cares at this moment.
We don't care that we're about to fuck with a dead man tied to a chair, head back from the blunt force of the bullet to his forehead.
We don't care that we're covered in his blood.
We don't care that her thigh is resting next to the gun that ended a life.
The only thing we care about is easing this itch that's consuming our bodies, our veins, our very essence and nerve endings.
If I don't fuck Quinn, right here and right now, I may just implode and we both know it.
Thighs spread with her pussy already leaving a wet spot on the shiny metal, I hook my arms under her knees and bring her pussy to mouth. I don't eat her cunt, that would be too gentlemanly. No, I fucking demolish it with my lips and tongue and teeth.
With every suck and lick and bite, she moans louder and louder until her thighs squeeze my face hard enough that I'm fantasizing the possibility of dying by pussy suffocation.
I figure it's the best way to go, so I don't relent. In fact, I devour her even more to test the strength in her legs. I fuck her pussy with my mouth to see who goes first. To see if she comes before she kills me with her lust.
Just as my tongue is coated with the onslaught of her cum, I wrap my lips around her clit and suck her deep, deep, deep until her screams—my name over and over again—bounce around the four walls of this death bunker. Until my ears are ringing with the pleasure I fucking gave her. Until her throat is sore from it all.
I made that possible.
My gift to her. My tongue. My lips. I did this because she's fucking mine now and always will be.
I'm not just claiming her, I'm tattooing her orgasm into the very fabric of my soul and making sure it's locked down tighter than the fucking pearly gates.
"Oh, God! Yes, fuck, yes!"
At her words, my hands pull at her knees, freeing my head from her death lock and looking up at her with narrowed eyes and a snarl on my mouth.
"Not God. Not anyone but me. You fucking say my name when you come on my tongue." Her eyes snap open and, for a second, we stare at each other, understanding dawning on her.
"Make me come, Meyer." I grin and it's closer to something Rory would do than Hunter. More psycho than fun and loving.
"Your wish, Princess."
My face is back to her pussy and my lips are back to sucking on her clit as her head falls back—hair touching the metal table—as she squirms and moans and thrust her hips impossibly harder so I can eat her like a starved animal.
I leave imprints on her thighs, nails digging into her skin and hoping to fucking God that they break the surface. That they make her bleed. That she feels the pain associated with her unwavering pleasure.
"Fuck, Meyer! Yes, yes, yes, don't ever stop!"
Much better.
With a flick of my tongue, I press hard against her clit and watch as she beautifully falls apart on my face. Thrashing, screaming, jerking her entire body on that flimsy metal table.
That's right, Baby, give it all to me. Only me. Always me.
Those thoughts run in a never-ending loop in my mind as I drink down her cum like it's water replenishing my battered body after a good workout.
Only once her body slumps from exhaustion and sated relief do I unlatch her thighs from around my face and lock eyes with her. Mine hungry, hers hooded and drunk on pleasure.
"My turn." Those two innocent words come out like a warning—like an omen—as I grab the open sides of her tattered shirt and pull her to me until her pretty, little soaked cunt is right on the edge of the table. In an instant, her eyes go wide. She's no longer the contented little kitten from before. Now, Quinn is on high alert. Every one of her muscles is rigid, like she's standing on a tightrope and one wrong move will send her tumbling down into a pit of starving alligators. It's not fear, exactly, it's anticipation and hyper-awareness.
I can smell her lust thickening at the thought of me destroying her all over again. I can feel the trembling of her flesh at the idea of me marking her entire body with my sexual rage and animalistic desire to rip her apart just so I can put her back together again with a pretty little bow to boot.
"In my world, nice and gentle don’t exist. I'm not Hunter. There's no deprived need to watch you almost die under me, either. I'm not Rory. But Quinn…" I bring her mouth to mine but don't kiss her. "Your fear turns me on. Your flight instincts make me want to paint this room with my cum." I speak against her mouth, our lips brushing ever so often and our breaths dancing to the most fucked up music she's ever heard.
Quinn gasps when she sees me palm my dick and take a step back. "I'll give you twenty seconds before I come for you, and when I catch you, I'll come in you so hard you'll taste me in your mouth."
I grin—the sadistic and wolfish one she loves so much—as I take hard, unapologetic pulls on my cock and back away to leave her enough room.
Biting my bottom lip and closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath and savor the scents all around me.
The tangy scent of her cunt still plastered all over my face.
The metallic smell of blood mixing with the early tell-tale odors of death.
The potent onslaught of bleach that we use over and over again in this place after Rory has his fun.
It's all mixed together and creating this need to chase my prey.
"Run, little lamb."
It only takes her a moment to realize I'm not fucking kidding.
Jumping off the table, she looks around the room, keeping me in her periphery at all times, before her eyes narrow on the exit door.
I've locked it, not that she noticed earlier since her focus was on my well-presented present.
The shake of her head, like she's calculating the waste of time it would be to run there only to be greeted with disappointment, makes me smile.
My smart little lamb.
There's only one way she can leave here and that's by taking the key to the door that's in my pocket, but I'm not telling her that.
What would be the fun in that?
"There's no way for me to win here." Her words are exhaled with a rough jerk of her head toward the door. "I bet that's locked and you've got the key on you."
I grin, this time wider. I love that her brain is as sexy as her tight little cunt.
"Fifteen seconds." Is all I have as a response.
Quinn's eyes flick all around as she begins to run in a controlled circle. She's frantic, her breaths coming in hard and shallow. Fuck, it turns me on like nothing else can.
"Ten seconds."
I walk further away from her, giving her the space to think clearly yet knowing my mere presence makes her irrational.
After all, the longer the chase, the harder the orgasm.
"This is so fucking unfair!" she cries out, her feet slipping on that fucker's blood, and for a second my protective half wants to run to her but my primal half holds me back.
"Five seconds."
She grunts out a huff of frustration as she tries the second door that only leads to a supply closet with no way to lock her in.
Hell, I'd happily fuck her in there against the wall like a wolf that's been denied its nature for way too fucking long.
"Four."
She stands at the far wall, her back flat against the surface with only Trey between us.
I don't move. Yet.
"Three."
Her eyes dart all around, measuring time and space to see her best options.
"Two."
My fucking dick is leaking precum at the anticipation of running for her and catching her and fucking the flight instinct right the fuck out of her.
"One."
With a grin, I let go of my steel-hard dick and zip up my pants.
"Here I come." Soon, baby, soon.
