Page 7 of Stutter

And suddenly, I see it – like a haunting premonition.

The irony of slaying him while wearing the mask I use to dance for him.

With no other prominent Syndicate members in sight, I leave instead of going back to my cage – ready to be whisked away into the dark and dreary night and fucked into oblivion by my guys, reminding me who I belong to, punishing me for letting another man touch me. Each spank a deep caress that awakens the deadest parts of me, each kiss a treasure, each stab of their hips meeting mine a jolt of electricity, reminding me I am alive. Isurvived. I live forthem, for me… helping me claw my way up from the pits of hell like a demon unleashed, starved and hungry for a pound of flesh.

Jacob Cartwright.

Chase Prescott.

Tyler Prescott.

Thaddeus Whitmore II.

Ashleigh Whitmore.

Simon Hoover.

A…

Tangled in the sheets between Jonas and Damon, I dream of the one missing and let my mind conjure his image as I whisper his name into the dark room, like a mad woman speaking to the walls as flurries of the oncoming snowstorm dance outside of our bedroom window, eerie and silent, a promise of quiet, swift destruction.

Because even the most beautiful things can be catastrophic.

Chapter Two

Maverick.

Present Day

Tipsy.

That’s how I end up on the third floor of Inferno, watching the new dancer sway her hips while holding onto the bars of her cage for the third Saturday in a row. Large black wings, lined with gold. Even though her half mask is a moth, she looks like an angel. The shape of her body reminds me of Raven. I’m usually on the fourth floor doing depraved things with the women that dance outside of cages.

But that was before Raven.

Who hasn’t shown up to my class unless it’s to drop off her essay on Wednesdays. I don’t know if she thinks I need space from her or she simply needs space from me or she’s giving me a chance to soak up everything she’s given me – and soak up I have.

Jonas still shows up because he needs it for his bachelor’s in political science. But he sits in the back of the classand does nothing more than take notes on his laptop and leaves, never staying behind.

“Let it unravel.”

I watch the same older gentleman as last week stride up to her – pale hair, pale blue eyes, unmasked with an audacious confidence that oozes power and wealth. I hate him. This man is proud to be seen, doesn’t care if his kinks are on display. The bartender unlocks the cage and out she goes, her hand in his, and as she moves, I swear, IswearI see the semblance of a tattoo where my Raven has hers. But that couldn’t be right… right?

I go to the cage before her screen is turned off. Chloe Ultor…avenger.

My stomach plunges to my knees as I stare after them, his hand in hers, leading her up the stairs but even behind the mesh in her mask hiding her eyes, I swear she’s watching me. Her head is turned in my direction and as they disappear behind the ponywall, I feel the silent tug of our soul-string. My heart begins to stammer in my chest and my legs unwillingly follow.

But I’m four Rusty Nails deep. Not to mention the two I had before arriving.

I could blame it on the alcohol for my stumbling to the stairs. Blame that I confused her for someone else. But I need to see.

I stay in the shadows, the lights overhead bright, purple, white and green. Some song I heard Raven playing a few times comes on and she vacates Stephen’s lap, goes up to the pole and begins to sway. A peek of her tattoo – one I traced to primarily with my tongue and my fingertips, mesmerized by the goosebumps that rose in their wake.

But this isn’t her element.

“I’m s-s-ssorry.”She had stuttered with eyes full of tears holding that fucking binder.

The binder that harbored true evil. Syndicate secrets that made me sick to my stomach.

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