Page 115 of Scorned

Luka

After being rescued and sleeping for numerous hours, I finally asked the dreaded question. Although I didn’t want to, I needed to know how the fuck long I had been in that hell hole. Sage hesitated at first before she finally broke the news, telling me I’d lost six months of my life.

The torture I had endured while strapped to that table was unbearable. The only wave of relief was when my consciousness became consumed by hazy dreams. As I became more awake and aware, the memories of my time in captivity replayed in my mind, each moment etched vividly in my memory.

Doctor Cuntface snaps on a pair of latex gloves, the sound a haunting reminder of the last two times she was near my groin.

“I will be taking samples of your scrotum and testicles again today.”

I don’t give her the pleasure of answering, instead, I tighten my fists, praying it doesn’t hurt as bad as the previous time.

She clutches her hand around my balls and squeezes, sticking in the first of three needles.

A stinging pain radiates through me and I grit my teeth tightly. The overpowering torture yanks a tear from the corner of my eye.

She sets the last needle down, exchanging it for a scalpel. My fists tighten more, causing my nails to dig into the palm of my hand, and I hold my breath as she slices into my sac. A whimper slips through my teeth, and I swallow down a second one, refusing to let her hear the pain she’s causing.

Once done, she puts the surgical instrument back and grabs the lubrication. As soon as she begins to lube up a finger, I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to watch as she strips me of my virility.

“Are you okay, bro?” Winnie asked, ripping me out of my memories.

A thin layer of sweat coated my entire body while my heart pounded against my chest. As I leaned back in the recliner, the soft fabric gently caressed my skin, offering a much-needed comfort, unlike the cold, spiked metal bed I laid on for six months. I threw an arm over my head, letting out a sigh of relief, grateful to have escaped the torment of hell.

“I’m good, man. Sometimes I get these flashbacks and . . .” I swallowed my words, knowing damn well I’d never reveal what happened to me while I was in VRC. “Don’t worry. I’m good.”

A motorcycle engine roared, pulling into the parking lot, and Winnie looked toward the door. “Lane’s here.”

Knowing we needed cold beer for this conversation, I hopped up from the chair and quickly headed to the kitchen, where I snatched three from the fridge.

Making my way back to the living room, I placed a beer in front of Winnie and another on the opposite side of the coffee table before settling back into my spot.

The wood planks on the front porch creaked, the scent of a wolven entering my lungs. “Come on in, Lane.”

Annie started barking at the door as it opened, and Lane entered with a huge smile. “My man, I’m so glad you’re back.”

He headed toward me and I stood, giving him a quick hug. “I got you a beer.”

“Awesome.” Lane copped a squat on the couch by Winnie, twisting the top off of his bottle. “Settling in good?”

I nodded, picking Annie up and setting him on my lap, not wanting to talk about what happened to me. “Winnie said you had some information.”

“Possibly. I was up at the new Save building, fixing a pipe in the kitchen because Evelyn asked me to. No one knew I was there, and I saw Finneas on the cameras talking to a man right at the edge of the property. I didn’t know how to download the footage, so I just took a video of it.” Lane pulled out his phone, clicked on a few things and then handed it to me. “Do you know the man with him?”

In the slightly blurry and dark video, two men could be seen engaged in conversation before ultimately shaking hands beside a white Cadillac. The shorter, plumper guy was Finneas, one of the leaders of the Supernaturals Against Venom Elitists. The other guy had a muscular build, darker hair, and was completely unfamiliar to me. He entered the Cadillac and proceeded to depart, while Fin made his way toward his black Escalade.

“I’ve never seen him before.” The video started over as I handed the phone to Winnie, then stroked my fingers down Annie’s short fur.

The second his eyes locked on the screen they flared in disbelief, his jaw dropping open. “What. The. Fuck. I fucking knew it.” He shook his head, holding up the phone, furiously pointing at it. “That burly dude, that’s Ben Fucking Argent. Sage’s uncle.”

Even though I didn’t recognize the man, I knew exactly who he was talking about. Just an hour ago, Winnie had filled me in on all the details I’d missed, including the revelation that my girlfriend was a witch, and her uncle some kind of triple hybrid.

A low growl left me, veins rippling across my face in a flash, and a weird throbbing radiated in my gums. Annie hopped off my lap, running toward the bedroom.

Winnie cocked a brow. “Chill, bro. We ain’t killing anyone today.”

Lane’s nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, his confusion evident. He locked eyes with Winnie who nodded, and a sense of suspicion washed over me.

My eyes darted between the two of them. “What?”

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