Page 51 of Wicked Revenge

Goddamn, he is trying to kill me.

Chapter 28

Fuck me sideways and twice on Sunday!

I can’t believe she has a fucking bike. And I don’t know which one of them is sexier.

Her or it?

Maybe her on it?

Fuck. I barely stopped myself from bending her over it and railing her until she couldn’t walk. I am still walking around with a massive boner, and we’ve been home for about 10 minutes now.

After getting everyone’s bikes parked in the garage, we moved to the living room to talk about what Raena wants to do about Doc. I hope she says kill him. I don’t know yet if he physically hurt her, but he damn sure didn’t help her.

Her reaction to him in that room last night is proof of that. I want to bleed him out, paint my sweet Bloody Cherry in his blood, then fuck her in my playroom next to his mutilated body. I’m getting harder by the second thinking about it.

As soon as we got home, Alek stole my girl. She’s now straddling his lap, hanging on to him like a spider monkey again with her head tucked against his neck. She still looks so small against him, like a big gorilla cuddling a tiny human.

It reminds me of when he would hold Em. Her tiny little body would cling to him just like this. An ache stabs me directly in the heart thinking about her, effectively deflating the boner I've been sporting since this morning.

“Baby Girl,” Alek starts once we are all seated. “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” she says wearily, sitting up in his lap. Royal sits next to him on the right, while I am on the left. Her eyes find each of ours before she speaks again. “Well, out with it. You’re making me nervous,” she says, fidgeting with her hands on his chest.

“We need to ask you about Doc and what you want to do with him.” Alek's voice is soothing and calm, jumping right to the point. His hands continue their path up and down her back, trying to keep her calm. We don’t want her freezing up or freaking out again.

“Oh…o-okay.” Her voice is unsure.

She isn’t freaking out, but she is definitely feeling some type of way about this. I can see the war she is waging within herself. Deciding if she is strong enough to face this. I know she is, but I let her get there on her own. I see the moment she stiffens her spine and finds that confidence I know she has buried deep inside.

“I want to speak with him.” Her voice is now unwavering.

“We’ll bring you down, but the second you want to leave, you say the word, and we’ll get you out of there,” Alek tells her.

“I can do this. I’m not a fragile little flower. I hate that you’ve seen me be weak, but that is not who I am anymore.” She gets out of his lap and stands in front of us.

I understand what she means. I’ve been through some fucked up shit too. I was a weak little boy when my father killed my entire family before killing himself. He tried to kill me, too, but I was the pathetic coward who pretended to be dead while he killed my little brother and baby sister.

I might be a batshit crazy psycho, but I am not weak anymore. It doesn’t mean I don’t have situations that make me vulnerable. Anyone with PTSD, like we all have, is going to have times when they fall apart. There’s no magic cure. She’s allowed to have moments where she can be in her most vulnerable state, and I won’t think any less of her. I know the guys won’t either.

Alek sits up on the edge of the couch, bringing her between his spread thighs until her knees hit the cushion, his hands gripping her waist.

“I don’t think you’re weak. You’ve just been through some heavy shit. You are allowed to break with us. We’ll be here to pick up your broken pieces and put you back together every time. You’re not alone in this. We are with you and will do whatever you ask of us. If you want to stay, we stay. If you need to leave, we leave. You are in control here.”

Raena cups her hands around his face, bringing her lips down to his. It doesn’t go unnoticed that this is the first time she’s made the first move with any of us.

Lucky bastard.

It isn’t a passionate, long kiss. Just a quick one as if to say ‘thank you’. But it’s progress. The longer she spends around us, the more comfortable she becomes. It’s like watching a flower blossom in the spring.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispers against his lips, pulling back to look at each of us again. “Thank all of you.” Tears have welled in her eyes, but she puts a smile on her face, stiffening her spine again and doesn’t let them fall. She’s ready. “Let’s go see him then.”

We all get up and lead her downstairs. I’m practically skipping as we enter the basement, taking her down the hidden hallway that leads to my playroom. I can’t wait to see how she likes it. If my gut is correct, she’s no stranger to getting messy with blood and gore.

I saw the photos of what she did to those three Kingsmen. She cut their throats and chopped off their dicks. My Bloody Cherry is a stabby little thing. I can’t wait to see her in action.

Once we get down the second set of stairs and inside the room, her eyes widen as she walks into the middle of the room over the drain, spinning in a circle as she takes everything in. “What is this place?”

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