Badlands: Next Generation Collection, page 20
Her downcast gaze and dark chocolate tresses hid her face from view, but I’d studied her so much the past few weeks that her every feature was etched into my brain.
Nyx was an intricate work of art. She wasn’t someone you couldn’t not, not notice. When you did? It would result in staring at her for an endless amount of time.
Like Zane, I hadn’t been aware I was doing this until he took it upon himself to point it out.
Also like Zane, I couldn’t seem to stop. I wasn’t all that worried when she caught me doing it. I made sure my face never gave anything away.
I hadn’t thought much of her at first. In the early days, she was merely some chick Butcher bragged about. Then, she was simply Adelaide’s cousin, someone I found intriguing.
And then we fucked—twice.
I’d only intended for it to be once. It was the most vanilla thing I’d done in months, but in a good way.
The next morning, before the sun fully rose, she was there, I was hard, and I needed more. She gave herself to me with shyly parted thighs and uncertainty caused by insecurities that hadn’t been there the first time.
I knew why.
Her piece of shit ex had gotten to her. Some part of her beautiful brain found flaws and faults where there were none. She was fucking flawless from the inside out.
Over the last three weeks, after constantly being around one another, we’d fallen into an oddly comforting companionship. It was never discussed or acknowledged, and neither was that night.
We were what we were.
We clicked like two matching pieces of a puzzle…although one had been set on fire, trampled, and left in the mud. While not a pretty picture, everything else was perfect.
She always listened when I had something to say, like she understood half the shit moving from my brain to my mouth.
Feeling a hand on my arm, I turned my head and stared at the blonde who was determined to hold my attention.
“Is that your girlfriend?” Her silver eyes darted in Nyx’s direction, her upper lip slightly curling in disdain.
I wanted to toss her skinny ass across the room for that. “If she is?”
She blinked up at me, slightly taken aback by my bluntness. Trying to save face, she smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder before stepping closer, damn near resting her tits on my forearm.
“Then it would be wrong to invite you down to my room,” she replied just loud enough to be heard over an old jukebox song.
We both knew she didn’t actually give a shit. She would ride my dick no matter my relationship status.
She’d been trying too hard since I walked in the door, pretending she’d drank too much when we both had the same weak ass drink in our cups.
I knew what it was she wanted before she even spoke. Needy desperation clung to her like a second skin. I took in her face, severely unimpressed. She wasn’t ugly, wasn’t cute. If anything, she was plainly average and resembled someone else I used to know. Regardless, I didn’t want to fuck her.
I hadn’t gotten any ass in almost a month, and I was surprised the skin on my palm wasn’t peeling yet from how often I was jerking my dick, but I still wasn’t going to stick it in this random chick.
That was an extreme way to see if it would burn off.
But, seeing as how what I desired was unobtainable—for now—I was going to indulge a different type of release. I may not have wanted this bitch, but I had a thing for stuck up blondes.
It mainly consisted of sinking my horned Italian stiletto into their flesh.
“She’s just a friend,” I replied as nonchalantly as I could, pretending those four words didn’t aggravate the hell out of me. “So why don’t you lead the way?” I gave her a flirtatious smile.
She grabbed my hand and nodded, looking back at the redhead with an excited grin. “Give me an hour or two.”
The woman opened her mouth, no doubt to object being left behind while her friend got fucked every which way to Sunday.
We were gone before she could get out more than an outraged scoff.
I let the blonde think she was dragging me away, nudging Zane as we by-passed the bar so that he knew I’d be gone for a while. A couple of whoops rang across the room, people thinking this was something other than what it was.
Outside, the woman peered over her shoulder again as if to make sure I was still there, and then she started for the inn across the street.
It was the same one that my group had claimed a few rooms in earlier.
Considering some of the other places we’d wound up sleeping the past few weeks, this one wasn’t half bad. It was a run-down building in dire need of a makeover, but the inside wasn’t too terrible. It was better than the bar.
Nyx’s crow was perched nearby. I felt its beady fucking eyes watching blondie lead me all the way to room four.
I freed my hand from hers the second we were inside and shut the door, making sure it was locked.
When I turned back towards her, she stared expectantly and took a small step forward, making no attempt to touch me.
It was typical—she wanted me to take total control, make her feel something she would never feel with those hicks back at the bar.
I could make that happen.
Closing the small space between us, I cloaked my face in an illusion of desire. She placed her hands on my chest and I quickly removed them, giving a reassuring squeeze when a hint of confusion touched her brow.
“Get on the bed,” I told her, spotting what I needed dangling from a ratty suitcase that hadn’t been unpacked yet. That small detail alone told me all I needed to know about her.
Earlier, she’d mentioned that she and her friend had been here for two days already, but she obviously hadn’t planned to stay for very long—meaning blondie and the redhead were roadies.
They traveled from shithole to shithole scoring drugs and spreading their legs. I’d assumed as much when I saw the track marks the redhead had tried to cover up with makeup.
And this chick thought I would actually stick my dick in her? I was offended.
She tried to reach past me to flip on the light.
I grabbed her wrist, a little rougher than intended, and gave a light shove. “I said, get on the bed.”
Her lips parted and, for a second, I thought she was going to object.
“I’m not usually one to fool around with the lights off; I like to see…” She dragged her gaze down my body, “But if you’re into that…”
“I am.” Among other things.
“Well, you look far too delicious for me to turn down, so your wish is my command,” she replied in a sultry tone.
Delicious? I wasn’t a fucking fruit.
I’d been prepared to force her if she decided to freak out. This was much better, though. When they willingly got into position, the experience was more rewarding—for both of us.
“Do you have a rubber?”
The question came muffled from beneath her shirt as she pulled it off.
“I have everything we need.”
Going to the suitcase, I grabbed what looked like a silk scarf and tugged on either end to test its strength.
It would suffice.
When I turned back to my temporary bed buddy, I wasn’t surprised to see she was already naked.
“Turn around and lay on your stomach,” I commanded gruffly.
Teeth flashed and the bed squeaked as she quickly obeyed.
“Like this?” she questioned, wiggling her ass.
“Just like that.”
Gripping the scarf tightly in one hand, I settled myself on the bed so that I was straddling her without crushing her.
For a second, I found myself wondering what it would be like to place the stiletto between each ridge of her spine, but that would take more time than I cared to spend.
She giggled when I grabbed her hands. “Kinky?” she hummed, completely complacent as I bound her wrists together.
“You have no idea,” I professed, reaching behind me to retrieve my stiletto. There was a Springfield hidden in a holster on my waistband, but that wouldn’t give me half the satisfaction.
“Are you still there?” Blondie asked, starting to turn her head to see what I was doing.
My hand shot out to slam her face into the pillow; the other wrapped around the handle of my stiletto. She tried to dislodge me, but I was twice her size and, since she’d so kindly let me restrain her wrists, all she could really do was kick her legs and yell into the pillowcase.
I could be wrong, but I think she was finally realizing that this may not have been the best decision. “Shhh.” I engaged my blade.
With my hand firmly knotted in her hair, I stared at the back of her head. It didn’t matter that the room was nearly pitch black; I thrived in darkness. It soothed me in ways the light never had.
I shut my eyes as my mind began to create an illusion I longed to make a reality. Wavy ash blonde hair, freckled skin, and a tiny frame—the blonde beneath me went from a stranger to the woman who’d betrayed me and my family.
I opened my eyes and shoved the knife into her flesh, just beneath her right shoulder blade, at an angle I knew would disturb the bone.
She squealed like a fucking pig and a crimson river began to flow. My senses heightened and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I pulled the blade out just to push it right back in, twisting the handle so she’d scream a little louder.
Damn, she sounded so much like Gwen. Even their attitudes aligned—they were both stuck up bitches who raised their noses at people like me. Unless they wanted something from us.
In that case, there were multiple debts needing to be repaid. Each one was worse than the last, and I had a million ways I would make her reimburse me for all of them.
I jerked the blade to the left, splitting flesh as I dragged it from the wound and straight down Gwen’s back.
She thought I was nothing. She’d told me I was only good for a dick to sit on. How many times did she throw all the reasons my mother never wanted me in my face?
I’d chalked it up to her saying stupid shit because we were arguing. She had simply lashed out, trying to hurt me, and it worked because now I knew this stupid cunt had meant every word.
Shoving the blade into the upper globe of her ass, I pushed her face deeper into the pillow to muffle her screech. The bed squeaked non-stop beneath us, but I wasn’t worried. Anyone passing by would naturally assume we were fucking.
Of course, Gwen only gave me pussy when she wasn’t getting any dick from Butcher. I knew that now, too. She’d always been a bit of a slut, but I’d never considered myself an idiot.
Until fucking now.
Until she made a fool of me, played me, and got my little brother taken.
Pulling the stiletto from the top of her rounded globe, I readjusted my grip, fingers now slick with blood, and slid it between both ass cheeks.
“You want something inside you?” I flipped the knife around and began to force the handle into her asshole, tearing right through the pink muscled barrier.
She’d been searching for this. To be fucked hard. It was only right that I made sure she got exactly what she wanted.
Her blood had the consistency of water. It saturated the bedspread, the wall, me.
With the bathroom light on, I had a clear visual of what I’d done.
The blonde’s brutalized hole gaped at me through bloodied ass cheeks like a third eye, judging me for the carnage I had created. Wounds of different sizes covered her from nearly head to toe.
The room smelled of iron, piss, and shit. I couldn’t remember when she’d lost control of her bowels. I never recalled much of my process after a certain point.
I didn’t know how to explain it, but it started weeks ago. I knew what I’d done was wrong, that I should have been consumed by guilt for this sick fucking habit of mine, but all I could feel was self-loathing for what I’d become. It was everything my mother hated and I couldn’t stand that her opinion still mattered to me.
Gwen wasn’t the reason I was the way I was. She was merely the cause of old scars being torn open.
As a Venom, I wasn’t expected to be right in the head, but this was an entirely different level of fucked up. I’d done my best to keep it contained, but it had festered for so long now that it was eating me alive.
All the pain and anger I’d buried deep inside me were unleashed behind the doors of seedy motel rooms.
Blondes no one gave a shit about just happened to be the fatalities of my latest coping method, nameless doppelgangers for the second person I was most angry at.
The first would always be myself. I should have known the bitch was playing me, smiling in my face while plotting on my downfall.
That was the thing about betrayal: it came from those we trusted, those we cared about, those we let in and told our secrets to.
I returned to the bathroom and shoved up the grout covered handle for the sink, placing my knife beneath the stream and watching the basin turn from faded white to a dull red.
So far, the blonde’s cherry headed friend hadn’t come knocking on the door, which meant I had time to clean up and get the fuck outta here.
I left the tap running and snatched down a shower liner that had seen much better days, sending a large brown bug scurrying from its hiding place.
Back at the bed, I spread the liner out on the floor and stripped the linen, leaving blondie exactly where she was in a pile of feces and blood.
I bundled everything together and rolled her body from the bed to the liner. There was a faint thud and crinkling of plastic as she landed.
I pulled my bloodied shirt over my head and tossed it down on her back before swaddling the giant mass into a ball of sorts.
With a firm grip, I dragged her across the room, past the running sink, and paused by the toilet. There was a window just above it that I knew she’d fit through.
Behind this motel was nothing but overgrown weeds and trash; there couldn’t have been a more fitting place to leave a body.
I reached up and flipped the flimsy latch responsible for keeping the window locked, and then bent down to retrieve blondie.
It took a bit of upper body strength, but in the end she went tumbling down to the ground on the other side.
With her gone, I did one last quick sweep of the room. I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about cleaning this mess up. I’d been careless tonight. I knew better. I was the one who helped Z become as meticulous as he was.
Blondie wasn’t here alone, but her friend couldn’t have been concerned for her well-being. She had yet to knock on the door.
Grabbing hold of the suitcase I assumed was hers, I tossed it out of the window, too.
Next, I snatched my stiletto from the sink and slid it back in its sheath.
After flipping off the light, I left the room, locking the door and my dirty secret behind me.
Hearing footsteps, I looked over and caught site of Nyx’s retreating silhouette.
Chapter Three
Tres
I loathed this entire atmosphere.
Strangers made me uncomfortable; being in a room full of them was starting to make my skin itch.
I’d tasted Trix’s beer and gagged on it, so getting drunk wasn’t an option, which truly sucked. Being in a perpetual state of numbness was addictive.
Hearing Addie’s laughter, I finally pulled my blank stare from the scuffed bar.
A frown immediately overtook my face as I caught site of Maliki being pulled out the door by—surprise, surprise—another blonde.
He definitely had a type.
And it isn’t you, a small voice whispered. I shook my head to shut it up. It didn’t matter, anyway. Yeah, we spent one incredibly random night together. His kiss touched more than my lips, and being beneath him took me to places I’d never been, but Maliki and I were just friends. Surprisingly good friends, in fact.
I needed his friendship more than I wanted to find out how badly he’d hurt me, or all the ways I’d unintentionally hurt him. Two broken people couldn’t offer the other anything but pain.
“Girl, all you gotta do is tell his ass to stop,” Trix commented, following my line of vision.
I wouldn’t ever do that. “What makes you think he’d listen to me?”
She clucked her tongue and tossed back the rest of her beer with one large gulp.
Gross.
“Because you matter to him.”
“Yeah, so do you.”
“True, but not remotely in the same way.”
“Right,” I said dismissively.
I tapped my fingers on the bar and glanced towards the back of the room. The redhead the blonde had been with was practically climbing into a stranger’s lap.
She didn’t seem all that concerned about her friend.
If Addy had tried something like that, I’d have been breaking doors down. Fortunately, as reckless as my cousin was, she wasn’t a total idiot, and she was with Zane.
I returned my gaze to where they were standing; they must have made some progress.
The bartender appeared to be explaining something as he scribbled on a piece of paper. It’d been a good while since we’d had any kind of lead. We were simply bouncing from town to town, seeking information. It was Lucifuge who told us to try here.
The door swung open again and two people entered the bar—a woman with long, teal hair who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and a man who had to be nearly seven.
They remained just inside the entryway, both scanning the room, clearly searching for someone.
When the woman’s eyes landed on me, she paused for a second or two, and then she began to head my way. The man was like a shadow, right at her back.
There was a silent threat evident on his face that dared anyone to get too close.
Before they could reach me, Zane caught sight of them and immediately placed Addy behind him, his entire demeanor going from somewhat relaxed to protective.
“He is such a caveman,” Trix chuckled.
I couldn’t have agreed with that statement more, but I wouldn’t speak ill of him for it, either.
His unwavering devotion to all things Addy wasn’t something I could thank him for with words.
