Page 7 of Twisted

“Name, date of birth, and phone number. You lie, I slaughter your fucking family first before I come for you. Got it?”

The man’s lips wobbled as he let out a choked sob.

“I don’t like repeatin’ myself,” Jaeger hissed. He knew he was scary as fuck to these high society folks. With his leather vest, dirty jeans, biker boots, tattoos and wild as brambles hair, he figured he’d be scared shitless, too.

“Bryan…Garth…Ham-Hamilton,” the man said, prattling off his birthday and phone number as well.

“Get the fuck out of here. I’ll come for you when you least expect it,” Jaeger swore. The man—shocked—up and dashed out, knocking over a potted plant with a crash as he did so. He steadied his breathing, flipping his knife closed once more and stowing it in his pocket. Turning, his eyes fell to his Maisie girl. He squared his shoulders to her, hands at her curved waist. She blinked up at him, plush lips parted in confusion. Her little brow was so puckered in concern that he couldn’t help but reach up and press his thumb to the line of worry. She simply blinked again, but seemed to gather what had just happened. Tears welled in her crystalline eyes, and it fractured the very heart of Jaeger.

“Shh, shh, baby doll,” he hushed, swiping his rough thumb over her smooth as silk cheek, erasing those tears. She blinked a few more times. Her body began to slacken, and so he pressed his front to hers, keeping her pinned to the wall with his hips and hardening cock. He bit his cheek. Poor thing had just been lured and raped because she was so fucking wasted, and now here he was, unable to control a boner.

“Know where ya are?”

Her lips trembled, but she dutifully answered.

“Hope Mills?”

He couldn’t help but snort.

“Nah, baby. Charlotte. How much you had to drink?”

“Like…fifty…” she mumbled, holding up her fingers to show him her count. He rolled his eyes before frowning, studying the facets of her face in the darkness.

“You were mine, I’d never let ya outta my sight. Drink and party all ya want, but I’d never leave your fuckin’ side.”

She answered despite no room for an answer.

“I know.”

He knew it was the booze, but fuck, he thought, if that didn’t seal their fate right then and there. They say drunken words are sober thoughts. Maybe she’d just known he’d marked her, and the deal would be done soon enough.

“You hurt, baby doll?” he asked, keeping his mind on the task at hand. He flicked his eyes down; fucker had just pushed aside the crotch of her swimsuit, but it had snapped back in place by itself. Married, she couldn’t be a virgin, so at least there was that. No evidence. Her husband need not know unless she wanted him to, but that wouldn’t matter; Jaeger would be hers someday soon, he promised her that.

“Do I…know you?” she mumbled. He chuckled.

“Baby doll, you’ll know me soon enough. Now tell me, ya hurt?”

She shook her head, licking her lips.

“Shaken up?”

“I’m drunk…as fuck…” she slurred. He threw his face to the ceiling with a bark of unrestrained laughter. So was so hopelessly innocent in her honesty. He fucking loved it.

“You’re handlin’ this better ‘an I thought, but shit, you can cry if ya need to,” he said, sort of concerned shewasn’tcrying. She still didn’t seem able to comprehend, and it was making his own nerves fray and itch for a cig.

Patting down his pockets, he found one and brought it to his lips. Holding her still with one hand, he flicked open his lighter and held the little flame to the end, inhaling deep and stowing his Zippo once more. Maisie just stared at him.

“You’re…pretty…” she slurred. He chuckled, a raspy noise, more aged than he really was. He’d always had an old soul, a dark one.

“We’ll make pretty babies someday, my Maisie girl,” he swore to her then and there, and the thought of filling her with his child lengthened his cock to a steel rod. She frowned, trying so hard to comprehend. Instead, she simply reached up, plucked the cig from his lips, and planted it between her own with a look of utter defiance, daring him to tell her no. His grip on her waist tightened as his balls clenched in anticipation. He’d chase her all over the fuckin’ world just to taste her nectar.

She took a drag, but her eyes drooped, and he took it back between his own lips, trembling at the taste of her that lingered on the circular filter. Damn it all to hell, he wanted her right the fuck now, but as sick and twisted as he was, he wanted her to remember it—to remember her downfall, her descent into hell where he resided. A demon and his queen.

He dropped the cig, crushing it beneath his heel.

“You’re…hot as fuck…” Maisie slurred again. He chuckled, the sound more menacing than lighthearted. He knew he had her.

“The things I’d do to you baby doll…” he mused, cupping her smooth right cheek. She leaned into his palm, eyes fluttering closed, her chest rising and falling slow and even, her little nipples pebbled in her purple one-piece. She was relaxed—at ease with him, knowing she was safe. A primal, ancestral rage flooded him, knowing she was married, knowing what he’d just rescued her from. She was already a fucking complex, tangled mess, but if anyone could sort out something like that, it was Jaeger.

---