Page 154 of I Will Break You

“Gentlemen,” I say. “Stand back. We’re coming in.”

As predicted, the quartet rush at the door, only to get stunned and fall to the floor with a satisfying thud. I turn off the current and pull on a latch that makes the door swing into the room.

Their bodies are piled up so close to the entrance that I have to turn the current on again to make them twitch out of the way. As soon as there’s enough space for me and my lady, I turn it off again and pull her inside.

This torture room I’ve created in her home is directly beneath the room she uses for filming. She turns to the manacles welded to the crawl space’s steel columns and asks, “What is this?”

“Interrogation room.” I kick at the unconscious man at the top of the pile.

“Who were you going to interrogate?” she asks, her voice breathy.

I don’t dignify that question with an answer. Shouldn’t she be more concerned about the four naked men chained together on the floor? She doesn’t show an ounce of appreciation for the effort I made to attach their heads to their asses, human centipede style.

“Xero,” she snaps. “Did you plan on dragging me down here after driving me insane?”

“Eventually,” I mutter. “But you’re missing the point.”

She whirls around, her eyes flashing. “Which is?”

“These four came for you last night. That bastard with his asshole attached to his friend’s face tried to rape you on your kitchen table. Now isn’t the time to dwell on what-ifs.”

Her pretty features twist into an expression I can only describe as murderous, except she’s directing that anger toward me. The man who saved her virtue. The man who fucked her hard enough to chase away the ghosts of her past.

If my body wasn’t so mellowed out from coming all over her face, I would bristle at the ingratitude.

The chief rapist stirs.

“Concentrate, Amethyst,” I snarl and turn her toward the man who pinned her to the table.

She flinches. “What do you want me to do?”

I reach into my pocket and press a knife into her hand. “Hold that to his throat and demand answers.”

“Xero, I’m not like you.” She steps back, her entire body trembling. “I don’t kill and torture people for fun.”

My fingers wrap around her throat. “This is about your continual survival, little ghost. The sooner you realize someone wants you dead?—”

“Someone other than you?”

I grit my teeth. “You’re trying my fucking patience. I could leave you here and wait for your fight-or-flight to kick in and turn you into a warrior, but what if it fails?”

She shudders. “I don’t have a berserker mode.”

“Then who or what the fuck was fighting me last night?”

A groan from the floor alerts us that the man at the back of the human centipede is alert. His gaze travels from me to Amethyst and down to her knife, but he’s so firmly attached to his friend’s ass that he can’t make a move until the chief rapist stumbles to his feet.

Amethyst gulps. “Did you have to tie them up like that?”

My fingers tighten around her throat. “I’m getting sick of this misplaced compassion.”

She slashes at my arm with the knife, slicing through the fabric of my hoody. The blade stings as it tears into my skin, and the pain goes straight to my cock.

Has this accursed little ghost turned me into a masochist?

Her eyes widen, and she steps back. “Xero, I’m sorry?—”

“Don’t apologize when you’re finally in the mood.” I turn her around to where the rapist lies on his side, finally stirring. “If he doesn’t tell you everything you need to know, kill him. Then I’ll cut him loose, and the next bastard in line will talk.”

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