Page 24 of Massacre
“Either you tell her the truth or I will,” Kytten rattled off as Massacre growled.
“You can be a real bitch, you know that, Kytten?”
The small pixie woman smirked. “Glad you fucking noticed. Now, tell her.” With that, she reached into her pocket and handed me a key. “Don’t let him sweet-talk you. Fucker has a silver forked tongue when the mood suits.”
Watching her leave, I heard the door close and slowly turned to look at the man who saved me. I thought it ironic that now he was the one in the cell and needed rescuing.
Sitting on the cot, he hunched over, hanging his head. “She shouldn’t have woken you up. I can take care of myself.”
“I can see that,” I snarked, looking around the damp basement and finding what I was looking for. Grabbing thewooden chair, I dragged it over to his cell and sat down, making sure I left plenty of space between him and me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Massacre. In a way I did, but he was a Golden Skull and that itself was what I didn’t trust.
I studied him and frowned. “What happened to you?”
I waited for him to answer, but he remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor. “Look, I know we don’t really know each other, but you’re hurt and I want to help. Kytten obviously thinks I should know what’s going on, so why don’t you fill me in?” I kept my voice low and even, trying to sound calmer than I felt.
“It’s not that simple, baby,” he finally said, his voice rough. “There are things you don’t know about me, my life, my time in clubs, shit I’ve done. Things that could put you in danger.” He looked up at me then, his eyes searching mine. “You need to leave, go back to your room and forget I exist. Forget about me.”
I stood up, anger coursing through me. “You know something, Massacre? I’m getting real fucking tired of people telling me what to do.”
Massacre’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of pain in them. “I’m not telling you what to do, baby. I’m trying to protect you. My world is dangerous, and I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”
I crossed my arms, considering his words. “So, what? I’m just supposed to leave you here, locked up in this basement? That doesn’t sit right with me.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but it’s better if you just walk away. It’s for the best.”
I bit my lip, torn between my desire to help and his insistence that I stay away. “I can’t just leave you here,” I said softly. “Not after everything you’ve done for me. I owe you, and I’m not turning my back on you now.”
His gaze softened, and he nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. “I’m a big boy, baby. I can handle myself.”
“Really?” I challenged. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“You saying I’ve lost my good looks?”
I narrowed my eyes, taking in the cuts and bruises that marred his once-handsome face. “Looks like they hit you pretty hard. Who did this to you?” I demanded, my voice laced with concern.
“It doesn’t matter,” he grunted, waving off my question. “It’s just a little disagreement between me and a few of the brothers. Water under the bridge now.”
“Doesn’t look like water under the bridge to me,” I retorted, my eyes narrowing further. “Looks more like a river of blood. And I’m guessing those particular brothers are the ones who locked you down here, right?”
A shadow passed over his face, and he shifted uncomfortably. His eyes flicked away from mine. “Something like that,” he muttered. “But it’s handled now. You don’t need to worry yourself about it.”
“I’ll worry if I damn well please,” I shot back, my temper rising. “You saved my life, and now you’re down here, beaten and locked up. I owe you a debt, and I aim to repay it. So, you can either start talking, or I’ll go find Kytten and make her tell me everything.”
A spark of something—fear? anger?—flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly gone, replaced by a resigned expression. “Fine,” he relented. “But you have to promise me you’ll hear me out before you do anything stupid.”
“I’m not the one locked in a cage,” I pointed out dryly.
He gave a gruff laugh. “Fair enough. But just remember, baby, my life ain’t no fairy tale. Sometimes the monsters win.”
“I came to see you. The day after, I mean,” he muttered.
“I know,” I whispered. “I heard you.”
“Gotta say, babe, your mom is mean.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I huffed, sitting back down in the chair. “I think she enjoys bossing me around.”
He chuckled at that. “My mom is the same way. She’s always on my ass, for one thing or another.”
