Page 82 of Deviant Illusions

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

He sags against me.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

Twenty.

I’m smothered against his chest and I try to pull my fingers free from his to stop him falling.

Twenty-one.

Twenty-two.

Twenty-three.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-five.

Something wet drips against my hair, seeping into my scalp.

Twenty-six.

Twenty-seven.

Twenty-ei?—

“STOP!” I scream, unable to take it. “Just fucking stop!”

My voice fractures into a sob but there’s no further cracks or jolts from Kane’s body. He loses the energy to hold my hands hostage and I quickly hold his sides as he stumbles forward, sweat coating his skin.

Helene doesn’t say anything, but I can finally see her when Kane falls forward, slapping out at the handrail to keep his weight off me. She’s an arrogant fucking twat as she turns, dropping the bullwhip on the floor. Anna follows her with her chin tucked to her chest. I scream at her retreating back, “You’re a fucking coward! You could have stopped her! Instead you just stood there, and now you’re following her!”

My shoulder is dragged down as Kane leans against me and my anger takes over at the sight of the blood dripping down his back, soaking into his sweats.

“Fuck you! You pathetic fucking cunt!”

He weakly laughs, barely disturbing the air. “Eloquent.” He’s already breathless, bloody, and beaten.

“Come on,” I whisper, turning to support him, then gently place his arm over my shoulders.

I can’t wrap my arm around his waist, so I place my hand on his abs as he drags himself up the stairs. I remain on the step behind him as he sways on his feet, stopping on the second tread.

“It’s okay, baby.” The endearment slips out due to habit. Thankfully he’s too focused on staying on his feet that he doesn’t acknowledge it as I place one foot beside his to help him make it up the next step.

By some miracle, I manage to get him to the top of the stairs while a trail of blood follows us to the room. He leans into the wall, gritting, “Don’t hold me.”