Page 111 of Bake the Town Red

“Ty!” she mumbles.

More pressure. Can’t let her get away. My Dahlia needs it as much as I do.

“Once you’re awake again. You’ll know then.” Fuck, her thrashing makes me so hard. “See you soon, little savage.”

Subduing her takes longer than I expected. Some of the chloroform must’ve evaporated while I’ve been waiting here. Doesn’t matter. I’ll wait until what little drug is left will soak in her body.

Not to mention that having her scream for me is hot as all fuck.

But as much as I enjoy this, she was right. We might get caught.

I move her forward, forcing her to move backward until her back hits the wall. With my knee to her caged pussy, I lock her in place. Hold her steady so every drop of the drug would soak into her system.

“I love you,” I say. “I love you, Dahlia.”

That’s the truth. A painful one. One that I always feared would ruin us. Ruin her.

Admitting to it is the equivalent of pulling out a rusty nail from my chest, then picking at the puss it’s left behind. It hurts like a motherfucker. It won’t do us any good.

It has to be done anyway. “I love you so much it hurts.”

Dahlia tries to bite my palm through the cloth. Steps on my boot.

Little by little, though, the fight bleeds away from her. I suspect my words have something to do with it. The chloroform definitely does.

“Doesn’t change the fact you’re getting punished for hiding shit from me.” I have a hand on her tit, twisting it in my palm. She doesn’t know it yet, but it’s where I plan to mark her. “For punching me. Twice.”

That part I liked. Fucking loved, though she won’t hear it until later. When she’s conscious again, I’ll tell her just how her knuckles against my jaw made me throb. Made me lose my goddamn mind.

She whimpers, her droopy eyes still brimming with questions.

As much as I try to hide it, I’m sure mine bear some answers.

Like how this isn’t a real punishment. Not at all.

Tonight, I’m giving her what she’s been asking for.

I’m marking her. I’m claiming her.

I’m giving the universe and my anxiety the biggest middle finger.

I’m making her mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tyler

The last time I heard the sound of a tattoo machine working was four years ago. After that first October without Dahlia.

Fury turned my vision black after I realized what she was doing.

She deserved a better life than this. Better than going down the path of violence her uncle had started. I hated myself for leaving her, for pushing her to do these things.

But then I imagined her there. A murderous queen. Blood on her hands. Her red grin growing wider with every kill.

The darkness in her spoke to the darkness in me. The violence in Dahlia nurtured the sickness in me.

I couldn’t have her. Couldn’t risk her life. That was a fact.

---