Page 34 of Scar

“We are 20 minutes out,” Spider says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I contemplate sending Elsie a text to let her know, but I refrain just in case someone sees her phone. I just hope she’s safe.

“I can’t wait to use my new bone chisel. I was thinking I could make little ornaments for Dixie,” Rage randomly states. I give him a side glance. “You know, like people make shit out of ivory. Except I ain’t hurting some poor fucking innocent elephant,” he rambles.

“Pretty sure bones aren’t bright white,” Beast adds.

“Then I can bleach them. Probably best to do that anyway, get rid of any flesh remnants. Don’t think Dixie would appreciate it.” Rage shrugs.

“How much longer? I’m not sure how much more I can take sitting next to Leatherface,” Hawk grunts.

As if a lightbulb goes off, Rage’s unhinged eyes light up, but before he can speak Ghost cuts him off. “You are not skinning the fuckers to make Dixie a fucking purse. Collect parts, fucking make yourself your own Frankenstein if you really fucking want, but I draw the line at you using skin to make a fucking purse. That is seriously fucking unhinged, brother,” Ghost snaps.

The light that sparked in Rage’s eye immediately dims and his shoulder slump.

Ghost sighs. “Look, I promise, you can do whatever you want to Eugene and Layton. I won’t stop you. Take what you want. The only condition is you need to let Acid, Scar, and me take that what we need first,” Ghost offers, placating Rage.

Rage’s lips turn up just slightly at the corners. “Deal, but just make sure they are awake enough for me, or it’s not as enjoyable,” Rage counters.

“We will make sure they’re still screaming ready for whatever you choose to do with them,” I tell Rage.

“Thanks, brother.” He nods.

“We’re here. Everyone stick to the original plan, and for the love of Lucifer, no one get fucking killed!” Ghost barks.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ELSIE

After washingmy face in an attempt to try and get myself together, I hoped that the make-up would hide my breakdown. I’m so focused on what I’m doing in the kitchen, not wanting my mind to think about what I have done or what is about to happen. I can’t let my mind even start to think about that, not now. Layton’s hands glide around my waist, causing me to jump.

“Hey steady, it’s only me. What’s got you so jumpy?” he asks.

I clear my throat and turn my head to look at him, trying my best to give him a reassuring smile. “Nothing. I was just daydreaming is all,” I lie, praying that he believes it. His eyes flicker over my face for a minute before he grins back and nods.

“Daydreaming about marrying me?” He laughs as he steps back before slamming his palm down hard across my backside, causing me to flinch at the sharp sting of pain it leaves behind. As he opens the fridge and pulls a beer out for himself, I continue preparing dinner as he leans against the counter, drinking his beer. “Where is your mom?” he asks.

My body goes tight as I try to control my reaction. “Not sure. Probably having a bath or something,” I state.

My eyes flicker to Layton to see if he’s buying the lie that easily dripped off my tongue. He nods and his eyes flickeringdown to my chest. I groan internally, silently begging for my father to walk in now and need him for something because I know that look he’s giving me and I will do anything to avoid it. He places his beer on the counter and strides towards me as I continue to chop up some mushrooms.

“On your knees,” he orders quietly in my ear.

“I can’t. Daddy wants his dinner, and if I stop now he won’t be happy,” I rush out, praying it’s enough for him.

His hand wraps around my hand that is holding the knife, and I instantly know it’s not enough.

“I said on your fucking knees. You going to deny me?” he growls. I immediately release the knife, wishing that I had just turned and stabbed him with it.

Jesus, I’m turning into a killing monster,I think to myself.

Layton keeps hold of the knife, twiddling it in his hand, A reminder, a threat if I don’t give him what he wants. “Now, I’ve had a really long fucking day, so take my dick and suck it until I tell you to stop,” he orders.

My hands tremble as I undo his pants and free his hard less than average dick. I want to curl my lip in disgust at it. At this point, I want to bite the fucking thing clean off, but I can’t. I can’t cause any suspicion to what is coming. I can do this one last time, once more, and then it will all be over forever. Closing my eyes I take him into my mouth.

“Open your fucking eyes,” he grits through his teeth. I quickly do as he ordered, tensing as he presses the cold metal of the sharp chopping knife against my throat. He grips my hair with his other hand and roughly and painfully fucks my mouth.

My eyes water and I can feel the sting of the knife cutting into my neck, followed by the trickle of blood running down. I fight the urge to gag as I feel the salty taste of his pre-cum.

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