Page 74 of Lust

The fact JC has us chained up with a significant length of chain for movement does not bring me happy vibes. If anything, it’s terrifying me.

The deranged fucker has this place set up like some sleezy brothel, and the fact he’s already defiled the poor girl Hannah, and her mother from the look of her torn underwear as she’s huddled beside her husband the other side of Kincaid, only intensifies my fears for what he has planned for us.

He spins back around a second later as though he forgot himself. “Well, well, aren’t you two a pretty sight. Shame you do nothing for me or we could have had some fun together.” He waves a dismissive hand. “Never mind, what I have planned will be just as enjoyable…for me. Not sure how the rest of you will feel, particularly you, my old friend,” he says, walking forwards and kicking Kincaid’s legs. He collects up our clothes and carries them to the other side of the barn, dumping them with everyone else’s.

My eyes find Sydney’s. Dried blood covers her face, and a bruise is starting to bloom on her cheek. She looks resolved to her fate, and the thought guts me.

“I love you,” I mouth to her. Her eyes widen at my confession—the timing is far from perfect, but I’m hoping it will give her some strength and hope.

Her eyes close as she mouths back, “I love you too.”

“Aww, how fucking sickening,” JC snarls, catching our exchange. “While I’m eager to test the new merchandise for myself,” he says, waving a hand in Sydney’s direction, and sounding like he’s pitching a new product to his investors. “I’m feeling a little sentimental. Perhaps it’s the thought of watchingmy sister fuck my best friend, or maybe the idea of Roman’sspitfiresister, Annabel?—”

“Arrgh!” I roar, yanking and tugging on the chains keeping me from killing this motherfucker.

JC laughs, and there’s pride at my reaction, but despite my rage, I sense bitterness. “Oops, sorry. Is that a sore subject for you?”

I lower my head because if he sees the murder and conviction in my eyes, I’m worried what that’ll mean for Sydney.

“Leave him alone,” Sydney cries out, raising her head to look at me.

“Sydney, be quiet,” Kincaid admonishes.

I lift my eyes, pinning her with a warning to listen to her father. He’s trying to protect her, and I agree.

“Oh, I love this,” JC states gleefully. “Amos, I’m sorry to have to do this…well, not really, but anyway, which one of these strapping young men would you like to see fucking your precious little girl? My money’s on Blake, but…”

“You’ll pay for this, JC. God will judge you and cast you down to Hell.”

“Oh,” he says, forlorn, like he’s disappointed at the prospect. “You mean the pearly gates will be closed for me? What a god damn fucking shame. Like I give a fuck about you, your god, or anyone else for that matter.” He’s becoming more manic and psychotic every second. He storms over to us, pointing a finger at me. “You.” He smiles wickedly. “I know your type. You and I aren’t so different, you know? Dominant and controlling in the bedroom. I’m right, aren’t I? Yes, yes.” He snatches the chain over my head and unlocks it with a key hanging from a chain around his neck, then he gathers the loose chain and tugs me toward Sydney. “Sorry, Amos, but you were too slow and too boring, so I made the decision for you.”

As we reach Sydney’s bed, she watches my face. JC throws the chain over the metal frame above Sydney’s head, shortening it before securing it again.

“Now then, I bet you’re an all fours man, right?” he asks, but when I don’t respond, he continues regardless. “Well, not today. It can’t always be about you, Roman. So selfish,” he says, rolling his eyes.

I block out the sobs coming from Hannah’s mother, and the burning of Kincaid’s eyes as he prepares to watch me screw his daughter. I actually feel for him.

JC walks around to the other side of the bed and begins tearing at Sydney’s clothes. She thrashes about as much as she can, but he just laughs.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” I growl, climbing on to the bed and attempting to get my hands on him.

“Someone’s eager.” He leans in conspiratorially but remaining out of my limited reach. “She’s that good, huh?”

“No, but if I’m being forced to fuck her, the least you can do is let me unwrap her myself,” I snap. The words burn, but I promise to wipe them from her memory later, once this is over and JC is fucking dead. That’s a solemn vow.

“Ooh, l like you, Roman. I admit, I thought you’d already sampled her, but I can admit when I’m wrong.” He steps back and gestures for me go ahead. Then he grabs a lone chair, dragging it over, then sitting.

I face Sydney, seeing the confusion on her face, but I keep my expression blank. I don’t for one second believe JC’s buying my act, but I’ll take every opportunity I can to protect Sydney from him, even if it hurts her temporarily.

I slowly begin to undress her, tearing her top open, but when I get to her trousers, I realise we have a problem. Hating it, I turn to JC, and ask, “Got a knife?” Gesturing to her trousers.

He’s smiles, rising from the chair as he pulls a flick knife from his back pocket. “May I?” he asks, like I have any other choice. I nod, and he moves to the bottom of the bed, slicing up one trouser leg before coming round to my side. I turn, hiding my back and the blade from his view.

As soon as he turns to return to his chair, I grab the blade in the waistband of my boxers and lay it alongside Sydney’s body, hidden from view. I bring a finger to my lips, signalling for Sydney to keep quiet.

“Don’t do this, JC. Please. Whatever you want, but not this,” Kincaid begs from behind me.

“You know,” he says, settling back in his chair. “My sister said something similar before I punished her. It seems to be a catchphrase for women, especially those associated with you. Cathy was the same.”

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