Page 61 of Entombed In Sin

Knox’s eyes flutter shut as he lets out a heavy sigh. “Yes, sir.”

21

KNOX

The Molly in my system lasts maybe another hour after I drop onto the couch in the office. During that time, Thatcher stewed. I don’t know why he’s upset, but I don’t have it in me to worry about it. If he’s concerned about me, it’s a waste of energy. I’m more than alright. I just can’t vocalize how I feel at the moment. My mind’s too preoccupied by the kaleidoscope of shapes and vibrant colors to really stress how perfectlyperfecteverything is. By the time the colors, shapes, sounds, and just the awe of it all faded away, he was gone.

As I blink awake, having dozed off a bit, my head is not only clear, but my heart is beating a new rhythm. A shiver rushes over me as I get used to this change in my body. I stare up at the drop ceiling as wonder balloons in my chest. As I think about it, I know that feeling inside me isn’t wonder, but something stronger and thicker than that. I frown as I consider the substance coating my insides. It’s hot and sticky as it clings to every organ, muscle, tendon, and bone. It drips deep into the crevices and fills me slowly. It’s not necessarily a comfortable sensation, though it’s not entirely painful either. It feels like there are sharp pieces mixed into the molten gooey feeling, like shards of sugar not quite melted down yet.

I smack my lips.

The taste of Sagan’s cum lingers there, and I can’t help but smile.

But there’s something else on my lips too. Something sugary sweet. Did Beatrix pop some candy into my mouth before leaving? It’s possible. That would be generous of her and not completely unexpected. She’d taken care of me after the twins left. I look down at myself, half-expecting to find her hand prints burned into my flesh, but I’m dressed now. She did that too. She’d cleaned me up, dulled the lights in the preparation room so they wouldn’t blind me, and allowed me to recover in peace.

A chuckle of disbelief slips past my lips. She tortured me, then cared for me tenderly afterward. Fuck, that’s… that’s weird, right? Or maybe not. At least, when it comes to Beatrix, it isn't.

None of us would’ve done the same for her. Thatcher had taken and cared for her in the shower after I’d buried her alive, but that wasn’t aftercare. Not really. He wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t let things go too far. That was an apology for not being there to oversee the punishment.

Starr Girl is too good for us.

The amusement slips away. Starr Girl. The nickname feels impersonal now. After what she put me through today and after the fun we’d had last night, it feels wrong to refer to her so callously. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub the heels of my hands against them. She’s so real, raw, and impossiblygooddespite the life we’ve dragged her into. She’s nothing but kind even when she’s mad. Beatrix is nothing like us.

We shouldn’t be here corrupting her, twisting her mind with thoughts of death and sin. She’s the light to our dark. We’ll snuff her out. A smidgen of panic wells up and I gasp at the chill it brings. I should try to save her from us. We're a snowstorm and she’s been adrift in us. What good could we bring to a person like Beatrix? Sure, we can offer her company and protection, butshe deserves happiness and affection and some light of her own in her dark world, not shadows. Not the ghosts we carry with us.

I don’t deserve her in my life. The reality of that shakes me. Selfish, superficial, and needy—I’ve never put another’s needs first. Not even the twins. Even allowing Beatrix to punish me was selfish. The point of all of this was to make amends with Beatrix so I could be back under her spotlight. I wanted her attention, the awe I inspire in her, her sweet smiles and genuine compliments. I wanted the softness she brings to the life of sharp edges I live with.

But I’ve never considered whatshewants. What sheneeds.

Beatrix is selfless in ways I could never be. She took my greatest weakness and turned it into an experience that set me free. I can’t feel Greg’s hands on me, or the hands of the men that came a few years later. I canbreathebecause of her and her punishment.

Ok, maybe I don’t deserve her, but I want her all the same. And who says I have to be a good guy? I’ve never been before. Why should I start now? If I want something, I should go take it. And right now, I want Beatrix. All of her. Every fucking inch of her, inside and out. I want to hollow her out and climb into her husk, where I can be cocooned by her greatness. Sure, that’s not feasible but I want it all the same. Pushing myself up, I get to my feet.

I need to talk to Beatrix. About what, I’m not sure. But I just…I need to look at her. Understand her. Or… or… I don’t know. All I do know is that I need her.

My feet tingle ever so slightly, but I ignore the lingering sensation of the drugs and head for the office door. I fling it open and call out, “Beatrix!”

There’s no response. Frustration causes my feet to move quickly down the hall toward the preparation room. She hadn’tbeen in there when I left but maybe she’ll be in there now. I poke my head in a few minutes later, but the room is empty.

I huff and step back out into the hallway. “Beatrix?!”

“She’s not here,” Sagan calls back, prowling down the hallway from the opposite direction I’d come from. His shadow follows behind him, growing large as the lighting down here warps it into a dark, malevolent thing behind him. He reaches up and rakes his fingers through his thick, dark bangs. When they fall back into his face, he adds, “She went up to the house. Said she was taking some time to herself.”

He stops in front of me, but I don’t linger. I start to turn around, but Sagan catches my wrist and spins me back to face him. His eyes trail over my face, seeing too much. Healwayssees too much.

“Sagan.” I try to tug my wrist away from him. “I need to go find Beatrix.”

“Oh yeah? Why?” His pupils narrow. Sagan pulls me closer and rests his hand on my hip. It’s a safe zone. I breathe easy, though I don’t know why I thought he’d attempt to touch me now that my punishment is over. “You’re not looking to get revenge for what she did, are you?”

The unexplainable frantic need to find her stalls for just a second as I realize his concern.

“No.” I shake my head hard. “I’m not mad at her.”

Sagan lets go of my wrist and takes hold of my chin. His grip starts off so gentle, but then it tightens as his jaw ticks.

“You look a little on edge, Pretty Boy. You sure you’re not looking to sink a blade into my pet?” Sagan raises a brow as his jaw ticks. My answering sigh is loud and overly exaggerated.

“IpromiseI’m not going to go kill her, ok?” I offer. “I just want to talk.”

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