Page 5 of Total Carnage
Father's voice echoed in my head, his words laced with disappointment and disgust. "You've made your bed, Raven. Now, you'll have to lie in it."
Well, fuck him. And fuck this. Lifting my cheek and wiping my tears, defiance ran through my blood. Yeah, I’d made my choices, and I’d damn well live with the consequences.
The moonlight continued its slow dance, casting its ethereal glow across the cell-like room. I was through wallowing in self-pity. Tomorrow would bring a new day, and who knew what else? One thing was for sure, I thought as I settled into the unyielding grip of the mattress: I was not going down without a fight.
I closed my eyes, letting the memories wash over me with a tide of emotions. Suddenly, I was back there with Vin on that perfect night. The air was thick with the scent of biker leather and gasoline, our laughter echoing into the darkness.
"You're a wild one, Raven," Vin had said, his eyes glinting with mischief and the gaze of a carnal animal.
I could feel the wind whipping through my hair as we tore down the empty highway on his bike. "Just try and keep up,old man," I'd teased back. Neither of us cared about the age difference. If anything, it made things more intimate. Vin never let me leave his presence without being satisfied. That’s not something the young ones cared about.
The roar of the engine and the warmth of his body pressed against mine had felt like freedom incarnate. For a moment, I let myself get lost in it again. But reality came crashing back like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head. My eyes snapped open, taking in the stark walls of my cage. How the fuck did I end up here? Four years under Daddy Dearest's thumb, treated like a prisoner in my own home. I paced the room restlessly, my mind fucked. Was Vin really gone? Or was that just another lie fed to me by my father to keep me compliant?
“Dammit," I whimpered, slamming my fist against the wall. The pain barely registered. I was too consumed by the swirling of rage and despair that had become my constant companion. I slumped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. How long could I keep holding onto hope? How long before I broke completely?
I let out a shaky breath, the weight of longing pressing down on my chest like a fucking anvil. "Vin," I whispered, his name a bittersweet taste on my tongue. These memories of him were all I had left, and they cut like a double-edged sword. Comfort and torment wrapped up in one messy package. "Fuck," I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut. But that only made it worse.
Suddenly, I was back there. That night in the abandoned warehouse, the air was thick with sensuality. Vin's hands on my skin, rough and demanding. The heat of his body against mine, our breath mingling in the darkness.
"You're playin' with fire, darlin'," he'd growled, his voice low and dangerous.
I'd met his gaze, unflinching. "Maybe I want to get burned."
The memory of his lips crashing into mine sent a shiver down my spine. We'd moved together with an intensity that consumed everything else. Two bodies, one rhythm, like we were made for each other. I could almost feel the scrape of his stubble against my neck and hear the way my name sounded when he groaned it. Raw. Primal. Fucking intoxicating.
"Christ," I whimpered, snapping back to the present. Desire and despair warred inside me.
My hand moved on its own, sliding down my stomach. I knew it was fucked up, getting off to memories in this shithole of a room, but I didn't care. I needed to feel something, anything, that wasn't this soul-crushing emptiness.
"Vin," I breathed, imagining his rough hands instead of mine. The ghost of his touch sent erotic pulses coursing through me. Five billion men in the world, and I had to have the one who was dead.
My breathing deepened, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I lost myself in the vivid flashback. The way Vin's muscled body had pinned me against that cold concrete wall, his strength both thrilling and comforting. How he'd looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the whole goddamn world.
"That's it, Raven," I could almost hear him growl, "Let go for me."
A whimper escaped my lips as the sensations intensified. My heart pounded, blood rushing in my ears. Everything else faded away—the bars on the window, the worn blanket beneath me, the crushing weight of my captivity. For a moment, I was free again, soaring on a tide of pleasure and remembered passion.
But as the high crested, reality came crashing back. Desire and despair collided, leaving me gasping and trembling. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. "Fuck," I choked out, anger and longing twisting in my gut. I wanted to scream, to breaksomething, to feel Vin's arms around me again. The intensity of it all threatened to tear me apart.
My eyes snapped open, the reality of my prison cell a cruel slap in the face. Moonlight cast harsh shadows across the bare walls, a far cry from the warm glow of neon that used to paint Vin's skin. The silence was deafening, broken only by my ragged breathing.
"Damnit," I whispered, pushing myself up. My fingers clenched the rough blanket, anchoring me to this shitty present. But even as the chill of isolation crept back in, I felt a spark ignite deep in my chest.
Those memories of Vin, of freedom, of raw, unfiltered life weren't just a tether to my past. They were fucking fuel.
I stood, pacing the small room like a caged animal. "You think you can break me, old man?" I snarled, addressing my absent father. "You don't know shit about strength."
Every touch, every kiss, every wild night with Vin had forged something unbreakable inside me. I might be trapped in this fucking cage, but my spirit was still out there, racing down midnight highways with the man I loved.
"I'm not some society princess you can mold," I whispered fiercely. "I'm Raven fucking Stansfield, and I'll outlast your control."
I pressed my forehead against the cold bars of the window, a grim smile tugging at my lips. "Just you wait, Vin. I'm coming back to you, come hell or high water. I know you’re out there. Somehow, some way, you’re out there."
I traced the outline of the bars, feeling the weight of my choices. Each cool metal rod was a reminder of the path I'd chosen, the defiance that had landed me here. But fuck if I'd trade it for anything. "Worth it," I breathed, my voice barely audible. "Every damn second was worth it."
I thought about the look on my father's face when I'd first rolled up on the back of Vin's bike, leather-clad and grinning like the cat who got the cream. The shock, anger, and disappointment were all there, clear as day. But beneath it all, there was fear. Fear that his perfect little political pawn had slipped the leash.
"You never understood, did you, Dad?" I muttered, turning away from the window. "This isn't about rebellion. It's about living." My eyes fell on the small mirror propped against the wall. The woman staring back at me was different from the polished socialite I used to be. Harder. Wilder. Free, even in captivity.
