Page 95 of Deviant Illusions

He has scars now.

I gently trace the designs inked on his forearm as I ask, “When did you get these?”

The ink is still dark and bright, so they’re new, but he didn’t have them when he was pretending to be Asher.

“You were there,” he says around a drag of smoke. “Before I took you back to your life.”

“Why did you start smoking?”

He looks at me, really looks at me, and his eyes are pained. “Because I needed something to remind me to breathe when I didn’t want to.” Leaning back with a wince, he presses his back flat to the cold glass then lifts me with his arm around my waist to sit on his thigh so I’m further away from the smoke.

“So many days,” he breathes out then takes a deeper inhale. “So many fucking days hating the wrong person.”

The peace lasts for as long as we’re on this ledge as he continues smoking throughout it. Each cigarette that ends is quickly replaced. I stop him before he can light the fourth. Taking it from his lips, I put it back in the box. Some of the numbness is lingering, so my voice is too soft as I say, “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“I already am,” he whispers. “Do you know why?”

The gentleness disappears as he loosely grabs my neck, forcing me to look at him.

“I liked chasing you, scaring you, and I tried for years to be able to come, but I couldn’t. Not until I took everything fromyou. When I had your screams in my ear and your cunt wrapped around my dick.”

The numbness is leaving faster and all I have left are huge fucking sores of pain that he’s pressing against as I snap, “Is that all I was to you?”

He doesn’t answer.

I should thank him for not lying to me when we both know the answer is yes. From my parents to Kane, all I am is a body. Either to look good and act like a fucking trophy for them or to be manipulated and bent to their will. Everyone is the same. A bunch of egotistical dickheads.

It’s because he doesn’t want to admit the answer is yes that he allows me to crawl over him and into the room. The drapes piss me off straight away as I’m forced to fight them to escape. Kane follows me, leaving the window open as he grabs my hair, pulling me back into his chest. His voice is the cruel one again, the one Ghost would use when he was belittling me.

“You are my fucking whore to do what I want to. The next time I put you outside, I’ll leave you there for a week.” He kicks the bag on the floor, adding, “Now get on your fucking knees and earn the right to eat.”

“I’d rather starve.” I scoff.

My scalp stings from his fingers brutally twisting around the strands as he pushes his knee into the back of mine. Ignoring the pain, I swing my elbow back as I step forward to stop myself from falling.

“Fuck you, you stupid fucking cunt!”

Anger is good. I like it, not as much as the numbness, but it stops me from falling into my mind and I fight him. I fight him for making this all so much harder, for tainting the only good memories I had.

But he’s faster, stronger, and wraps his hand around my jaw, dragging me to the bed. My cheeks ache as he lifts me off my feetand slams me onto it. He climbs over me, straddles my chest, and restricts my air as his eyes harden. I punch into his ribs and push my hips to dislodge him, but he wraps both hands around my neck as he seethes, “You never fucking listen.”

My nails score down his chest, his arms, anything to get him off as I twist, pushing myself into the sheets, but he pulses his hands.

“I told you to be obedient when I allowed you back inside.”

Why is he lying?

Black spots dance in the edges of my vision and my eyelids droop before they fully close. I’m still conscious when he loosens his hands around my throat and leans down, whispering, “Stay asleep, pretty girl.”

He keeps one hand around my neck as he reduces the pressure against my chest. I don’t know why I listen to the lying prick, I just do. I allow my limbs to heavily drop as though I’m passed out.

“You fucking belong to me,” he grits, slapping the side of my cheek, but it’s too big to be his fingers, and there’s a wet spot on my cheek that he trails closer to my lips.

It’s his dick. The freak is moving his dick across my lips, and I open my eyes just enough to see him through my lashes.

Kane is above me, his eyes filled with lust as his face twists in agony while he forces his dick between my lips.

“Worthless fucking whore.”

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