Page 56 of Crimson Tears

Being a hothead is not going to win you any points with the bossman, Green.I think to myself.Donovan O’Neil is not a fan of big emotions unless it’s him having them, of course.

My attitude backfires on me though, when instead of coming into my little cell like I was hoping for, he slaps Nessa across the face.

My fists hit the glass, betraying exactly how I feel about that while my very pissed-off little wildcat wakes up with a sneer.

“What the feck was that?” she asks. Her eyes connect with Gray, and he gives her a half-hearted smile. One I want to rip from his face.

Instead of acknowledging him, she looks at Green. They hold eye contact for a second before she leans her head back just to launch a wad of spit at Green's face, right over the bruise in the perfect shape of her brass knuckles.

The saliva runs down his chin as all of our hearts stop beating.

Why did she have to do that? She could have played weak and this would have gone so much better for all of us.But I guess my girl gave up on that role the moment she separated herself from her father.

I can see Boris, the pained expression he wears likely mirroring mine. Gray’s jaw drops in shock. A devious smile spreads across Nessa’s face as Green wipes his face slowly with a gloved hand, staring at it in surprise.

We all know what’s about to happen. Even her. But it doesn’t make it any easier to watch when he lands two hits to her stomach and one to her face.

I can see her holding back a scream, not wanting to show weakness. He pulls out her brass knuckles from his pocket and slides them on with a gleam of pure hatred. Then he hits heragain. And again. On the fourth round, she finally lets it loose, but Green just laughs.

“Oh just wait till you hear what we have planned for you, little whore.”

He squats down, getting right in her face. Blood drips from her nose and mouth, but she tilts her chin up defiantly. Every muscle in my body strains against this glass, willing it to break under the force, but it refuses.

“We have orders for them to watch until we break you.” He presses his fist to her stomach, causing her to wince in pain as he slowly adds pressure.

“Then, just when you think you can’t take any more…” he trails off before standing and smacking her across the face again, this time in a demeaning gesture.

My fist hits the glass so hard I swear I hear a crunch somewhere. Green only grins at my reaction while fisting Nessa’s hair. His eyes flash with a sort of deranged insanity that even I feel afraid of.

“I will hold a gun to this pretty little head of yours, and watch in delight asyouget to killthem.”

The blood drains from my face as Nessa’s eyes go wide.

“That’s right.” He laughs in her face, darting his tongue out to lick a path up her cheek while she tries to jerk away from his hold.

He giggles, gripping her tighter until tears threaten to fall from her eyes. “They get to watch you take beating after beating until you’re ready to pull the trigger on them.”

Green tosses her head forward as he lets go and begins clapping in delight over his plan.

“No,” Nessa says as she raises her head defiantly. Her nose is dripping with blood and tear tracks run down her face, but she stays firm.

Green clutches his hands into fists, his expression hardens. I don’t want her getting hurt. I don’t want him to have this power over her. He shouldn’t be able to use us against her like this.

I don’t think I can survive that. I don’t think I can even survive another minute of this.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart,” I tell her earnestly. “He doesn’t hold the power here. You do. You can do it now and save yourself the pain.”

She doesn’t even look at me, she just continues to glare at Green even while pain twists her face. My chest constricts with so much agony and sorrow I don’t know how I’ll be able to live with this.

“Fuck you,” Nessa spits. I can’t tell if it is directed towards Green or me. Either way, I hit the glass again just to show her I heard that and I swear she smiles a little bit.

And while I was focused on her, I stopped paying attention to the threat in the room. When Green grabs a knife from his pocket, my stomach drops, nausea churning in my gut as he snags the neckline of her shirt and tears one side down the sleeve.

“Oh, what’s this?” he coos, tapping the sharp edge on her shoulder that is now exposed. It is just one of the marks I left on her when I claimed her.

When he begins cutting into the flesh, flaying it so that the mark is removed, her screams are deafening. I will never forget that sound for as long as I live. Not just the volume or the pitch, but the way my chest crumbles to pieces as it echoes through me.

It’s all made worse when Green smiles down at her and licks the bruised skin he stole from her before tossing it towards me.

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