Page 10 of Bathed in Blood

The moment I saw her face, she became more than the rival’s cash cow.

She became mine.

Mine.

The fuck's eyes widen a fraction, but it's already too late. He shifts uncomfortably, balling his hands into fists. Hands that haven’t seen a day’s work. Hands that have no idea what true brutality is.

My princess walks towards me, her wide hips not as plump as they were in older streams. Her arms are smaller too, her hair not as shiny—all things that can be fixed. It’s the light hiss she lets free as she leans down, making a show of picking from a line of tools, that needles into my skin, my first warning of things to come. Sure, she’s mine—mine to fuck until I’m tired of it, mine to exploit—but that doesn’t account for the bizarre concern I feel. She’s in pain, yet they force her to perform. It’s clear what happened earlier was a punishment, a bad one. Not even the prick drilling into her managed to get off from it.

She leans in close, that pretty doll mask turning as she slowly pulls and tugs my wet clothes away from my skin. I breathe deeply, sucking in the warm amber smell that’s coming from her. It’s deep and sweet, and it fits her perfectly, like candied fruit. The blade wizzes quickly across my stomach, cutting my shirt down the middle, and behind that mask, her breath hitches.

Do you like what you see, princess? Look lower, there’s more for you.

I strain my fingers, capturing a loose strand of hair as she moves closer. Her hair is soft like silk. Behind the mask, I can feel her perusal. She’s taking me in,drinkingme in. My eyes finally turn from her long enough to gauge what she chose for me. It’s a modified blade, some gear attached to the handle.

For a moment, I wonder if I could take it, wishing I had more time to watch her like this. It’ll be the last time from the victim’sperspective. Fuck, it’s heady. She winces as she climbs onto the stained wooden table, standing over me, giving me the loveliest view, even if it is a little bloody. Blood never botheredme.

She steps back further. If I wasn’t playing victim, I would applaud her balancing on the wide table in her heels. She takes each step carefully, with grace. I should stop her from removing my pants. Fighting is much easier with them on, but I don’t want to deny her an eyeful of my cock if she wants one.

She pauses as she eyes my hard length straining against my pants, dropping to a squat over my knees. Her fingers brush out, feather light, caressing the head, and I have to bite my inner cheek to suppress my moan. Those raw, swollen lips would feel like heaven spread over it. When she presses the bottom lever, activating the spinning blade, it jerks me back into focus. Foreplay is over when my lust clears and I realize she intends to split my dick lengthwise and not tickle it again. The room erupts into chaos the moment my hand leaves its restraint. First, it’s from Vince Sullivan, who shoves off the wall, the beginning of what sounds like a girl’s name on his lips.

Jax intercepts the sick fuck eager to see what I’ll do to her as she cries out, losing her balance. My shoulder flares in pain as I jerk out, snatching the blade from her chilled fingers. It takes me less than a second to let my momentum and weight crash back down, the blade whirling as I cut through the other leather restraint on my hand.

Vince is still fighting with his brother, but Anton is free. Only a second more hesitation, and he decides to intervene. “Cut the feed!”

It’s a second too long. My princess lurches for another weapon from the table, this time a hatchet, swinging it down in a wide arc, but her angle is off. Its tip barely nicks my shoulder before I snag her by the throat, pulling her into my chest. She’s warm against my damp, cold skin, and my fist smashes the modifiedblade against the table, jamming the control lever into theonposition before I throw it, a sick smile growing on my face as it lodges in Anton Sullivan’s neck. The princess in my arms is thrashing, crying out for…them.

After everything.

My smile dissipates quickly as I wrap my arm around her neck, ignoring her claws as I use her hand still on the hatchet to chop through the restraints at my legs. The remaining brothers, to their credit, react fast, but not fast enough.

5

Taken

Freak on a Leash by Korn

Lana

Oh God, oh my God.

Panic and maybe a little vomit claw up my throat as I scream. Blood is still spewing from Antons’s neck as the man all but drags me off the table with him. All my kicking, wiggling, and scratching seem to be no more than a minor inconvenience to him, despite the feeling of his skin and blood building underneath my nails.

He’s going to kill me.

God, please kill them too.

Get them all.

If that was in slow motion, everything next occurs in hyper speed. Christian jerks me behind him, ensuring his is body towering over mine as Jax’s voice rings out over the chaos, and with it, the sound of a gun cocking.Twoguns.

He’s not holding me now, but it’s not any easier to draw air through my lungs. Oh God, Lewis. I’ll never see Mom or Lewis again. I always knew that was likely the case, but now, with panicoverwhelming my senses, it’s all too real. Tears spring into my eyes as Vince’s dark form creeps around behind Christian, still far enough away to stay out of the man’s reach.

Vince’s eyes are hard but worried as he jerks his head, ordering me to walk away from the man. I take a step, a tiny one, but my feet won’t listen. Fuck, my body won’t listen. I can feel the tacky blood between my legs as Christian’s back presses against mine.

Jax will punish me for this. I know it.

“Two guns against one unarmed man. Those aren’t good odds,” Jax snips.

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