Page 6 of Cruel Vows
Merry fucking Christmas, indeed.
When the fourof us regained the use of our respective limbs, we explained the hard and fast rules to her, mainly to ensure we covered our asses more than for her safety. The sounds in the halls at night were usually enough of a deterrent to prevent thegirls from wandering off. But sometimes, one got brave, so we made it expressly clear.
Don't leave our suite of rooms. The bathroom was attached. And wake us if you hear something strange.
Well, more strange than a cacophony of screaming, wild pleas echoing through the halls, or sounds of wild sex just outside the door.
That was just Mad Max, an older gent who didn't like to pair up, preferring to wander the halls every Christmas and leave agifton each crew's door, which was usually nearly invisible and definitely crusty by morning. Lilly hadn't been able to talk him out of it yet, and so far, we'd all just collectively decided to ignore it.
We all piled into our rooms, and the little bitch we'd brought home with us opted for the couch. I offered her my bed, but she declined, preferring to stay as far away from us as possible after being thoroughly wrecked.
I understood, really. It wasn't often someone could take all of us at peak efficiency and then want to cuddle after a scene. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near those fuckers after I'd been painted like a whore. She did, though, avow us of the use of our shower, and before I retired for the night, I left her a glass of water and ibuprofen for her cuts. A first aid kit sat on the couch cushion next to her pillow and blanket, and I hoped she would come find me if she needed anything else.
Of course, when I woke in the morning to an empty living room and a pounding on our door, I realized with a start our little prize had decided not to heed our explicit instructions.
And the person at the door could be none other than Lilly St. Clair, come to punish us for our fuck-up.
Shit.
FIVE
LILLY ST. CLAIR
All I fucking wanted wasa midnight snack.
I didnotwant to walk into my kitchen to find fucking Angus O'Leary carving up a whimpering, scared little blonde waif of a thing, who was too busy watching the knife he held to her exposed tit to notice me. Standing next to him was Jack Algreth from the Rebels, his hands around his cock as Angus pierced the skin and drew blood.
"Fuck, man, that's so hot," he muttered, grunting as he tugged on that thing between his legs he didn't deserve to carry around with him. I didn't mind me a twisted psycho every now and again, but he and Angus were two peas in a psycho pod I didn't even want to peek into. Matter of fact, I wanted very much to lock their brand of depraved in a fucking cage and throw away the key.
Even the worst of us had our standards, but I suspected their desires ran far south of where we all drew the line.
Angus drove the knife deeper, growling as the poor girl started to cry, probably regretting all the life choices that brought her to that moment in time. "P-p-please, sirs, j-just let me go, and I promise I'll behave. I won't leave the rooms again?—"
Great.Fucking fantastic.Who'd smuggled her in tonight? There would be hell to pay for that shit.
Outsiders never did well in this house. It's why most of them got their jollies offoutsideof the asylum. The Guild wasn't safe for anyone, not even the crazies that roamed its halls. It was one of the reasons I carried a weapon on me at all times. You never knew when you'd need to fend off an insane, unhinged, blood-lust-filled man in the throes of his mental disorder or killing spree.
I weeded many of them out over the years, but the new ones always cropped up when the old ones vacated their places, and since the guild was founded on no rules, I couldn't just go around making new ones out of the blue.
And for the most part, I'd never had any issues with the police or the residents doing anything they shouldn't. Usually, the only ones they killed were targets—contract work.
This girl wasn't on any of my contracts. And I would know—I accepted or denied them before they went on the board.
"You boys know better than to torment a guest," I commented dryly, tapping my still-bloody heel on the imitation marble floor tiles. "Let the girl go, you pricks, and put the knives away." I glanced down at the tiny dick that sprouted from Angus's hips, smothering a smirk. "And your cocks, too. Nobody wants to see those embarrassing things."
The Scot's eyes narrowed, but Jack just laughed, tucking himself back into his pants, the blade cutting his dick in the process. The wound didn't seem to phase him in the slightest, and he licked the blood from his fingers, waggling his brows at me before slipping off down the hall and back into the darkness. Angus was slower to comply, dragging his blade down the girl's abdomen, tracing the path where he'd obviously cut her blouse from throat to navel, painting her in her own blood before tossing the knife in the sink with a grunt of protest.
"She's not my problem anymore; she's on you, St. Clair," he warned, shoving her at me. I caught the girl with ease, somehow managing not to topple off my heels at the impact. When he, too, slipped into the shadows, I turned the girl to face me, tugging her blouse together in the front to afford us both a little bit of civility and modesty.
"How did you end up here?" I asked her plainly, surveying her body for signs of abuse. She had cuts and scrapes up and down her arms, rope marks on her thighs and arms, and she looked well-used but not battered.
She stared at the ground, her still-damp hair dripping on the floor, hanging in limp ringlets around her face. "I came with a group of guys. The first one you chased off—he's one of them."
"Didn't they tell you to stay in the rooms at night?" I was fast running out of patience for the situation. If we weren't going to have rules, we had to be responsible for our own guests. I hated that they'd brought this girl into this madhouse, but there was no going back now.
"They warned me, but I was hungry and didn't hear anything, so I figured I'd come find the kitchens."
And found something else entirely, it appeared."Did you get anything to eat before you were accosted?"
