Page 40 of Twice as Twisted

He’s curled in the fetal position, making a strange, guttural keening sound.

If she killed him, I won’t have mercy. I won’t have it in me to torture her until pain is all she knows. She would never know a fraction of the pain I would feel from losing my twin. She’s incapable of it. I would simply beat her to death, each blunt blow not enough to take away even a shadow of the agony I’d feel in that moment, not even when she was nothing but an unidentifiable sludge of flesh and blood and bone fragments. When I walk out of here carrying him, it will look like I’m leaving nothing but hamburger meat behind.

I crouch beside Duke, gripping his shoulder. “Are you shot?” I ask, trying to pull his hands away from his middle.

“What?” he asks, blinking up at me with blank, uncomprehending eyes.

“Where did she get you?”

“I’m not—she’s shot,” he says, looking up to where Mabel sits slumped against the shelving, her breaths heaving in and out.

My stomach jolts, and I drop my gaze her to lap, her white skirt.

Spotless.

I glance around, finally finding a small hole in one of the big rounds of ice cream. I shove away from Duke, disgusted, and stomp over to Mabel. I grab her head, digging my fingers into the hair at the crown of her head. She shrinks back, crying out inpain, since her braids hold her hair in place and prevent me from gripping it easily.

“You would have killed yourself, you crazy bitch,” I snarl at her.

“What part of ‘I’d rather die’ didn’t you understand?” She grins up at me even as she winces with pain.

“Fucking cunt.”

I shove her backwards away from me, and she cries out as her head thuds against one of the metal shelves. I let the bullets fall into my palm before I pocket them and shove the gun at Duke. Then I grab one of the boxes and rip it open. I pick out a red popsicle and tear it open, then fall on Mabel, dragging her under me. She thrashes when I yank up her skirt, but she’s so small I hardly feel her struggle.

“Please,” she gasps out.

“You’re making this harder for yourself,” I snap, shoving her panties down her scarred thighs.

“No,” she cries, thrashing wildly between my knees as I hold her pinned. “Please, Baron.”

“If you want to be loud, you know I love to hear you scream for me, little monster.”

“But do you really want your coworkers to know you’re letting two guys take turns with you while you’re on the clock?” Duke asks, spinning the gun around his finger, casual now while I’m on the verge of losing control. I can always count on him to balance me.

“Not to mention the health code violations,” I grit out, staring down at her cunt. It’s so unremarkable, nothing special. That calms my raging anger, cools it into a hard stone inside me.

“All those bodily fluids,” Duke adds with mock regret.

“Please,” she says again, her voice breathy with panic even as she stops kicking. She should know she’ll never getsympathy from me. “You’ll get me fired. You’ll give me an infection.”

“Don’t worry, Duke will clean you up,” I say, elbowing her knees apart before plunging the popsicle inside her.

“Please,” she screams, her hands flying to my arms, her nails digging into my skin. My cock throbs, and I drag the popsicle out, satisfied that it froze to the walls of her cunt by the force I have to use.

She shrieks again, this time in pain. The piercing pitch makes the hairs rise on my arms and a thrilling tingle race down my spine like lightning. No one screams like Mabel Darling.

I ream her with it again, disappointed that it slides in more easily this time, her hot cunt already melting the ice. She arches under me, a final, tiny shriek tearing from her before she clamps her mouth shut.

“That’s right,” I say, sliding the frozen rod in and out of her. “Hold your tongue like you did for your grampa. Save up those banshee screams for when you take our cocks.”

By now the popsicle is moving easily, but I ram it harder into her, punching into her soft cunt harder as the tool shrinks, no longer useful in causing pain except for the ache of cold. My cock strains at the thought of fucking into her after this, her pussy as cold as a corpse.

“Grampa taught his little snowflake to be quiet and take what you’re given, didn’t he?” Duke says, crouching behind me to watch over my shoulder as her cunt swallows the popsicle, melting it into a puddle of red, the blood that would have poured out of her if she pulled the trigger with the gun still inside her. “Take it all, and never tell a soul. That’s your specialty, isn’t it, little monster?”

Tears pour from her eyes, but I ignore them, my teeth clenched while she begs, then chokes on her words, then collapses into a pile of shaking sobs as I remind her who all ofthis belongs to without uttering a word. She can hold a gun on us, or even herself, but she will always be helpless to stop us.

Her slender body quakes under mine, as frail as the delicate spider she is.

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