Page 37 of Sick Bargain

“By what fucking logic does that make it okay?” I snap at him.

“Does it feel good?” he asks. “Does it hurt?”Does he care?

“It’s…” I don’t know what it is because I can’t formulate a proper thought. Feeling is coming back in waves, brought on and intensified by the way his fingers pump inside me. My toes curl into the bed, yet no part of him seems to be enjoying this. It’s monotonous and unpracticed, almost clinical. “It hurts!” I settle on that. “Stop doing this and explain to me what’s happening.”

“I’m prepping you,” he says, not stopping. “If you’d rather I fuck you without prep, I can do that, too.”

When I catch a glimpse of his face, it shocks me. Because Krypt is nervous. He wants me to tell him it feels good because he honestly doesn’t know. Is he inexperienced? Maybe he’s never fucked a guy before. I don’t know anything about his sex life or his sexual preferences because I’ve never gotten to know him that way. He’s… practicing.

I fucking hate that it softens me to him.

“If you’re going to fuck me at all, I’d rather you do it while I’m aware of it,” I say instead. “Don’t rape me. Let me choose.”

“You get no say.”

“Why? I begged you to fuck me earlier, and now you’re gonna do it like this? I don’t get you.”

“Stop trying. You never will.”

There’s something like self-loathing and sadness in his voice, and I don’t understand what it means. As my muscles come back online, I force my body to roll over, but I only make it halfway. On my side, his fingers slip out of my ass, and the way it clenches feels foreign and strange. Empty.

“Look at me,” I demand.

His eyes stay on the screen and his face remains blank. His hands settle on his thighs, the right hand’s fingers glistening with lube in the screen’s glow.

“Krypt.” When his eyes meet mine, his monsters are subdued. “I… were you afraid to do this while I was awake? Are you embarrassed or something?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snaps at me, the tone of his voice waking up his monsters.

“Like what?”

“Like you know!” he snarls. “Like you fucking know.”

“Know what?” I yell.

He climbs atop me and presses his palm to my throat. His eyes seek the tattoo he gave me, but it doesn’t calm him down this time. He’s shaking and violent, no longer serene in his secrecy. Whatever he thinks I know, he doesn’t like it. Krypt has a vulnerability, and the twisted part of me wants to find out what it is.

“How many men have you fucked, Remiel?” he asks, barely containing his anger.

“None! I told you I’m not gay.”

His hand relaxes slightly against my throat. My fingers wrap around his wrist, but they aren’t trying to pry him off. “Then why beg me to fuck you earlier?”

“Because you make me crazy,” I admit. “I’m fucking terrified all the goddamn time, Krypt. I don’t know what I’m doing or what I’ve gotten myself into, but if this is my fate—ifyouare myfate—then… then a sick part of me wants to revel in you.” Holy shit, did I just admit that?

His eyes narrow. “Sick.”

“Yes!I’m fuckingsick. I’m sick for wanting you even though you’ve ruined me. I’m sick for thinking I can survive you even though I want you to kill me. I’m sick for enticing you when I should be doing everything you say because you own me. Something isn’t right with me, Krypt. Can’t you fucking see that? Can’t you tell how sick I am?”

“Don’t,” he snarls. “Don’t say sick.”

“Sick!” I scream, crazed now.

“Stop it!” His hand tightens again. The muffled sound of the iPad comes from somewhere beneath the blankets, but it does nothing to draw my attention away from every single one of his inner creatures, their claws wrapped around the bars of his eyes, rattling chains and champing at the bit to break loose. “You’re sick, Keegan,” he says in a voice that isn’t his. “Something is wrong with Keegan, doctor. He’s sick! There’s a sickness in you, boy. Sick. Sick. Sick.”

Fear claws up my throat and pools in my stomach. He’s not here. He’s trapped in the past, stuck in a memory, reliving the worst parts of his life from a time before he had any power. I’ve triggered him all the way back to his childhood. To a family that treated him like a monster.

Heisa monster. But I’m one, too.

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