Page 112 of Their Dark Rose

“So dirty.” He sends me a salacious grin.

I bite my bottom lip, groaning. The gruesome scenario sends a delicious tingle up my spine.

“Should’ve known this would be her reaction,” Mason says, perched against the old wall of the motel. “Not just kinky. Deviant, too. I wonder who you got it from.”

“I’d think twice about my answer, princess.” Falk—who sits next to me—winds my hair in his fist, tugging on it. Forcing my gaze to his fiery one.

“Well, I…” I drift off as my gaze flicks back to Finn, unable to pull away. “All of you.”

“Good girl,” Falk hums.

The makeshift cloth he ties off around the base of Thorn’s flaccid cock looks better than I imagined it while Finn laid out their plan in the bathroom earlier.

Seeing our revenge come to life obliterates the pain and fear from before. In their place, a sense of mission fills me. The need to be a part of our revenge against my aunt and step-cousin is strong.

I’m not just invested in destroying them. I get one hell of a kick out of it.

The next minutes are about to be fucking epic.

Finn catches me staring, and his smirk becomes terribly wrong, for all the right reasons.

“What’s this?” Falk’s other hand finds my throat, squeezing. Calling for my attention by dominating me. His voice is furious, but the small twitch of his lips gives him away. “Princess, are you turned on by this motherfucker’s cock?”

My lips part, my gasp loud.

Far less loud than Thorn’s pleading when he finally finds his voice. “Briar, Rosie, please. Tell them to stop. Tell them to let us go. We’re your family.”

Morsels of his vomit drip down his chin. Blood paints his cheeks, jaw, and throat in red.

The place where he had an eye has been patched by Mason with a soaked slice of Thorn’s shirt. We didn’t want him to faint or die. We needed him to be very much awake and present.

My step-cousin has a role to play before we kill him. He has to work for the peace that’ll await him when he finally dies. Because even if he goes to hell—which he will—it’ll be a nice reprieve compared to what we have waiting for him.

Fucker cannot be passed out for the occasion.

“We’ll disappear,” my aunt croaks. “You won’t see us ever again, Briar. Do the right thing, I’m begging you. Your mother would’ve wanted you to let us go. Please.”

We positioned the chair we tied her against to face her stepson’s. For each of them to witness the horrors they’ll endure, and for something else…

The humiliation he’ll suffer through before we spin this on her.

“But she isn’t here to tell me to free you two, is she?” I grit behind clenched teeth.

Falk still holds me, yet there’s no questioning my strength. Anger blares out of me, my low growl both a threat and a promise to destroy her and Thorn.

“She ran away.”

“Stop lying.”

“I—”

Falk, who’s in tune with me, lets me go as soon as I move to stand up. In a step and a half, I’m in Mallie’s personal space, slapping her hard across the face.

“You killed her,” I growl, gripping her chin and glaring into her nauseating green-yellow eyes. Despite her begging me, they’re laden with hate. Overflowing with it. “Admit you did.”

Mason walks across the room, taking a seat on the bed. His blue gaze is hot and burning me as he watches, his silence louder than a million words shouted over a speaker.

It’s telling me he loves what he sees.

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