Page 35 of Unholy

“Yes, I told D we would be there within the hour.” Acknowledging me, Rylee nods her head. She looks tired, so much has been dumped on her these past days. I’m impressedshe’s still standing. Many would crack from the pressure, but not her, she’s strong, taking it all in stride.

Following suit, soap is lathered all over her body. Spinning around, she makes sure it gets every inch. That’s when the same marks capture my focus. Squinting, my brow furrows. Some of these are fresh, new and reopened.

“What the fuck is this?” I’m infuriated. My hand holds her shoulder and I spin her around, pushing her up against the cool shower tile wall.

She gasps, shocked by my reaction. My feisty girl wastes no time slapping my face in response. The crack of her hand against my skin echoes, and the water running down my skin adds another level of sting to it. She would be happy to know this, but I show no reaction.

Rylee is well within her rights of slapping me; I’m not acting rational, and frankly, I’m elated she didn’t knee me in the balls.

I wear everything on my sleeve with her. Has she noticed? Did she suspect this reaction would occur once I saw the wounds, or did she forget about that before asking to join me in the shower? With anyone else, I wouldn’t bat an eyelash, but her… she is different. Rylee is able to get past the stone wall I have up with others outside of the family.

But that shit doesn’t matter right now; she is my priority, along with the lacerations decorating her back.

“Explain.” There is no need to elaborate, Rylee knows exactly what I’m pissed off about. My face is in hers as I look down, only mere inches from her lips. Our noses touch and lashes tangle in one another’s. Her breasts are pushed against my chest, our bodies connected while I box her in with one hand on either side of her.

Her eye contact remains steady, defiant, and her posture is strong.

“Help me understand, please.”

The pressure of the tile is too much, blood is dripping down behind her, pooling at her feet mixed with the water. Still, Rylee is unfazed.

I try a different approach. Instead of speaking to her like someone I care about, I speak to her like a business associate.

Time to bargain.

“I won’t ask you to stop. Hurt yourself until your heart is content, I don’t fucking care. But help me understand why someone who demonstrates such strength and power in public and with clients needs to do whatever the fuck it is you do to your back.” My teeth are clenched and nothing is kind about my tone. If she wants to be treated like shit, I will.

“You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Sinclair.” She thinks she has me, which is laughable.

“I’m afraid you have forgotten. Yes, I am protecting you. With the current situation in our town, you need it. I have given you food, shelter, access to your family, and the ability to continue working on me. But I can take it all away. This is still an arrangement, Ms. Vandenberg. Once Dalton is handled, I will give you a stack of cash and send you on your way, just like the others.” I know this stings, because it fucking killed me to say it. My face remains stone, uncaring, but hers flinches. She is hurt.

She swallows back the feelings generated by my venomous attack.

Rylee pushes my chest. “Fuck you.” But I don’t budge.

“Tell me and I will go away.”

“I hate you.”

Winking, I smirk. “Good.”

A scream erupts from her; it bounces off the glass surrounding the shower and violently attacks my eardrums. I have learnt she can also be a tad dramatic.

“For some fucking reason that I can’t explain, my pussy likes you. I have lost control of her, and I never lose control. I alwaysmaintain discipline and restraint while in a session, but she,” Rylee points to her bare cunt, “has decided to stop listening to me. It enrages me.” Her tone is more serious as she continues. “I pride myself on my ability to be professional. The marks are from me punishing myself... lashings. I must do better; I will do better. Do you understand?” She winces, and I wonder if this is the first time she has said this out loud.

“If this were a casual hookup, it wouldn’t matter. But like you said, this is still an arrangement, I am on the clock, and this is unacceptable on my part.”

I hear what she’s saying. To a degree, I even understand it, but I wish it wasn't the case.

“This is the first time since I first started my dungeon, professionally working within this lifestyle, that this has happened to me. At the start, it did once or twice, but I trained myself, my body to behave unless it was a part of the session. And how my pussy has responded to you is not included in that small percentage.” It’s fair, she is trying to hurt me like I did her. I am why she is hurt, bleeding into the shower water, and I hate it.

My ex-wife popped pills ‘because of me’ but I didn’t give a fuck. But Rylee… She's different.

Our eye contact is still intact when the next sentence leaves my mouth before my brain can stop it. “We’ve never kissed,” I state matter-of-factly.

Rylee shakes her head slightly, her response short. “And we won’t.”

“Understood.” On the outside I appear unfazed. Internally, it fucking kills me to hear it. I know I’m the one who just laid into her because I am an asshole, but the need to understand outweighed being nice about it. Why does she have to be so fucking different?

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