Page 24 of The Aftermath

“Can we take her to your house?” I ask Ry, knowing I can’t take her home. He nods his head and takes off driving while I hold her.

Her eyes are closed, and she isn’t moving at all, but when I reach up and touch her neck, I feel her pulse. She isn’t dead. Then I look her over, and I see the cuts on her wrists. She did this to herself. What the fuck? Rage causes my body to shake, and it takes all the strength I have not to strangle her and kill her.

We pull around back at Ry’s place, and Levi jumps out to open the back door. I climb out with her still in my arms and carry in through the basement door.

“Put her over there,” Rylan says, nodding toward the table. I walk over and lay her down as Rylan and Levi both move to check her wounds.

“She cut them both,” Rylan sounds as pissed as I feel. “I don’t think they’re deep enough to kill her, though.” Like that should relieve me, it doesn’t. Because right now, I want to snatch her by her fucking neck and strangle her to death.

Rylan walks out of the room only to come back with the things needed to stitch her up. He gets it together, and I snatch the needle from his hand. If anyone is stitching her up, it’s me.

“Levi, grab a towel and stuff it in her mouth,” I tell him. He does as he’s told, stuffing the towel in her mouth. We don’t need her screaming for the whole fucking house to hear, although I could take her into the other room down here that’s soundproof. No one would hear her screaming then.

I get to work, stitching her right arm first and she doesn’t move. It’s when I start on the left that she wakes up and screams around the gag in her mouth. Rylan and Levi move to hold her down while I finish and then wrap them up. Angel is awake, breathing heavily through her nose.

“I’m going home. Let me know if you need me,” Levi says.

“Thanks, man.” He nods, and he leaves as Rylan goes up the stairs. Then it’s just her and I. My little Angel and me.

I want to hold her. I want to kiss her and tell her everything is okay, but that isn’t me. And that’s not what I feel right now. What I want to do is snap her neck, but that would defeat the purpose of saving her life now, wouldn’t it? So, instead, I grab her arm, jerking her weak body off the table and dragging her down the hallway. I know where Rylan keeps his toys, and I know he wouldn’t mind if I used them.

Pulling a soaking-wet Angel into the soundproof room, I shove her against the far wall. She doesn’t know what to do; her eyes are wild. I set about grabbing a few things before moving back toward her. I take the cuffs and secure her arms to the wall by the hooks there. She winces, and I know it’s hurting her freshly stitched cuts, but I don’t care.

“Are you going to say anything?” she asks me, her voice strained. I ignore her and keep doing what I’m doing. What the fuck am I doing? I don’t know. My mind is a mess, and I’m not in total control of myself right now.

“Silas, please. Just say something,” she begs me. I pull a knife from the drawer and move toward her, cutting her wet clothes off. Her makeup is running down her face, and I’ve never seen her look so fucking beautiful in my life.

Once I have her clothes off, I reach up and grip her pussy hard in my hand. She whimpers and stares at me but doesn’t say anything. I lick my lips as I step back and take the knife, turning it toward myself. Angel watches, unsure what I’m about to do until I do it.

I plunge the knife into my shoulder, holding back the roar I feel. I pull it free and slice it across my stomach as Angel screams. No one can hear her. Not in here, anyway.

“Stop! What are you doing? Stop it, Silas!” She screams louder this time. I slash another cut across my stomach as she watches me. Then I stalk toward her, pressing the bloody tip to her cheek.

“When you hurt, I hurt, Angel. Do you understand me?” she shakes her head. So I step back and slash another line across my chest as she screams.

“Stop! Please, stop, Silas!” Now she’s crying. And I step in closer once more.

“When you fucking hurt, it fucking hurts me too, Angel. When you bleed, I fucking bleed. Do you understand me now?” I ask her through gritted teeth.

“Yes! Yes, I understand,” she cries, her chest heaving. I lower the knife and flip the blade in my hand, bringing the hilt to her pussy. Then I shove it inside of her and fuck her with it. At first, she doesn’t respond. She’s too busy crying, but the more I fuck her with it, the more she feels. After a little while, she finally moans.

I drop to my knees and pull the knife out, replacing it with my tongue. I eat her pussy until I can’t think straight, and she’s a dripping mess, but it still isn’t enough.

I stand up and unlock the handcuffs, letting her arms fall to her sides before shoving her to the floor on her hands and knees.

“Ass in the air,” I demand her. She lifts her pretty little ass, and I drop behind her. I spit on her dark hole and rub it in before shoving my cock in roughly. Angel screams for me just as I knew she would.

“Stop!” she cries out.

“Fuck no. If you’re going to bleed, it’s because I made you!” Grabbing her hips in my hands, I take her roughly. I fuck her ass in hard, long strokes, and I don’t stop just because she’s screaming. I don’t stop just because she’s begging. I don’t stop because she needs to understand there is no fucking way for her to leave me. We’re in this together. If she dies, I die with her.

Blood runs down my chest and coats my cock as I fuck her harder. When I feel my orgasm building, I reach around and find her clit. It’s pulsing and needy, and I give it all the fucking attention it deserves. I press hard and circle it, pulling moans out of Angel. I pound into her ass until her body locks up, and she screams out her orgasm. I follow behind her, coming in her ass with a growl.

When I’m finished, I pull out slowly and look at the mess I’ve made of her. It isn’t just the blood from my wounds, and I know it. Her ass bleeds, cum and blood mixing as it runs out of her. I’m not sorry. I’m not going to be.

I stand and grab a towel, cleaning myself up before pulling my jeans on. Angel doesn’t move; she stays the way I left her. Once I’m dressed, I walk over and lift her until she’s standing. She’s trembling as she wraps her arms around herself. I walk over and pull one of Rylan’s t-shirts from the drawer and slip it over her head, taking her wrists in my hands. The blood oozes through the bandages.

“I probably busted one of the stitches open,” I tell her. She doesn’t speak as I release her arms. I turn around and move to the small closet, pulling out a few blankets and pillows. I make us a bed on the floor, and when I look back at her, I see the cum and blood leaking down the back of her legs. I should let her clean up, but I’m not going to. Instead, I grab her around her waist and pull her to the floor with me.

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