Page 120 of Voracious

The dumb fuck doesn’t know.

I sound hysterical and wince at the pain in my own voice.

“She’s left already. Where is she?”

Everything on the other end of the phone pauses while I leave no traffic offence unbroken and nearly get myself killed, racing in the direction of the airport.

“The abandoned camp near LaGuardia, main house.”

The deadly tone doesn’t even penetrate my skull because I fucking need her, I need her with me at all fucking times and I’m going to cuff her to me as soon as I see her.

Twenty minutes and I’ll be there. Fuck, I’ll do it in ten.

“If you let her get hurt, I will keep you alive to feed parts of your own fucking body to you.”

His threats come out and I cut them off, not giving a fuck.

“Fuck you, I’m doing this for her. Not you. You fucked up and let her be with them cunts the first time, I’m not making that mistake.”

I end the call as I focus on my woman and the world blurs beyond the windows. She has to be safe; I don’t give a fuck what she does as long as she’s safe. She’ll most likely be playing with their body parts and making heartbeat noises but I can’t stop every cell in my DNA itching without the knowledge that she’s safe.

“She’ll be torturing them,” I lie to myself. “She’s crazy, violent, capable.” I nod, pushing my foot down even further when it’s already touching the floor. “Strong, clever, determined.”

The engine roars as I drive between the lanes, narrowly avoiding the traffic on the other side.

“She said might and if,” I recall, my chest aching.

I can’t fucking live without her, even if she wants to bathe in blood and commit crime after crime, she’s mine. She’s mine the same way my lungs are — required for life.

“She’ll be fine,” another lie, “killing them and she’ll smile at me with blood on her face. She’ll come back to me, insane and intrinsic to my life.”

My hands tremble as I see the faded signs for the abandoned camp. Dread. It clings to my insides, weighing them down and flooding my veins with fear. For the first fucking time in my life I’m terrified, so terrified that I reach across the center console and take out the rosary beads I never think about.

My voice is weak as I beg the only person who may be able to help me. “Mama, protect her. I protected Katya, kept her safe and I tried to do it for you, keep my woman safe.”

It’s eerie as fuck when I reach the abandoned main house camp and there are no cars lining the route to it. The moon reminds me of Ana, she loves it and always whispers moons to herself when she’s feeling overwhelmed. I hit the killswitch, killing all the lights, as I slow to stop anyone hearing me then get out with the rosary wrapped around my fist. The beads lightly clink against each other as I internally repeat my prayer and reminders.

The overgrowth crunches as I step through it with only one face on my mind. There’s no one in sight and it’s too silent.

I’ve witnessed her torture, everyone screams.

It’s impossible not to.

But the silence is deafening.

Ana wouldn’t make a noise if she was on the receiving end which has me speeding up. Fuck, I’m going to have a heart attack.

Save her for me.

FORTY-SIX

Ana

Jones’ hands shake as though I’m going to hurt him as I sit in the footwell of his car. It’s funny when he works for Amon and he’s never scared of him, but he holds the steering wheel tightly and I can see his bones poking through the thin skin of his knuckles. I can’t speak with Yulia and her favorite guard in the back and look up from the footwell, trying to put him at ease, so he doesn’t fuck things up. Lifting my thumb in the air, I smile around my murderous thoughts and turn it down, asking a question. It works and he audibly swallows before discreetly lifting his thumb, saying he’s fine.

Yulia’s excitement comes through the not-so-private glass.

“He’s richer than Rowan, we’ll be able to expand.”

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