Page 16 of Crazy Rich Monsters (Necessary Evils 1)

It’s the worst fucking time, but I notice another familiar face in the crowd and this time I’m not mistaken. It’s Emily, and she’s with the bartender from the bar. Thankfully she doesn’t see me, but it serves to raise the stakes higher. She looks unhappy as she makes her way through the crowd, being led by the hand by the bartender. I try to follow her with my eyes, but I’m soon distracted by the sharp pain of Nick entering me from behind.

I let out a gasp and throw my head back as he inches forward, slowly filling me inch by inch until he’s filled to the hilt. And then he stays there as my body quakes around him, begging him to move. He’s too interested in torturing me, in taking his time as he threatens to pull me inside out. One hand holds me steady at the waist, ensuring that I don’t slip away from his touch or move too much. He needs to be in control and is terrified of losing it. His other hand grips me by the throat, serving the same purpose to hold me into place. I’ve never been taken like this, not by any partners in the past and not by him the other day.

He refuses to move, holding still in place. The self-control it must take to not begin thrusting with reckless abandon is something I didn’t think he had in him. It’s why I need to get to know every part of him, so that I’m more able to judge who exactly I’m dealing with.

He holds the both of us still for so long that I almost forget that he’s inside of me. That’s until he begins to draw his cock backwards slowly, holding me steady with his carefully placed hands. When I fear he’s going to pull out completely, I throw a hand back to paw at his ass, begging him to move.

He obliges, thrusting to the hilt in one go and then he’s fucking me with the reckless abandon I expect from him. His fingers dig into my hips and I’m comforted in knowing it’s absolutely too dark here on the catwalk for him to see my scars. I bow my head forward and close my eyes. Someday in the near future, he’s going to make me pay for my sins. Here in the moment, I can’t bring myself to care.

There’s something perverse about his dick being inside of me, something unspeakable. Trauma begets trauma. As fucked up as it is, the two of us are linked for life because of my actions. Maybe that’s why he’s so obsessed with fucking me. In the most fucked up way, maybe I’m the closest he can get to his dead brother.

I catch a glimpse of Carter in my memories, tears watering from the corner of his eyes as he sits in the passenger seat. He’s begging for forgiveness or sympathy. I can’t exactly remember which. There’s blood everywhere, and even as I’m lost in the gruesome memory, I feel Nick’s cock fucking me into entropy. Each thrust is harder than the one before. He’s speeding towards climax and I’m nowhere close, but I don’t deserve to come. Not like this.

I try to shake the images of Carter from my mind, but to no avail so I force my eyes open. And it’s not Carter’s eyes I see anymore. It’s the eyes of Emily Calloway staring straight into my soul from below. My stomach sinks, but I’m too lost in the throes of ecstasy to break away just yet. It’s not until she shakes her head in disgust and turns to flee that I’m able to do anything at all.

I find my strength and push backwards, almost knocking Nick onto his feet. He means literally nothing to me. He’s a toy, a human dildo to fuck the pain away. He reaches out to grab me but I’m able to shake him off. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him tuck his dick back into his slacks as I make a quick escape to the stairway. He’s right on my tail as I reach the bottom landing.

The crowd is dense, the bass echoing off the walls. I’m unsteady on my feet as I attempt to push my way through the crowd. It’s like pushing through stone. Just up ahead, past a small gathering of people grinding on the floor as if they’re participating in a public orgy, I spot Emily at the bar with the bartender. I grit my teeth as I push through the last of the people and come out on the other side, gasping for air.

“Emily,” I try to reason with her, but she will barely look at me. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really? Because to me, it looks like you were getting a little too comfortable with my brother. You’re sick in the head, you know that?”

Disregarding the fact that she’s the one that told me Nick and I would be perfect together, it’s not a fair judgment. Everyone involved in this fucked up affair is screwed up in the head. “Can we please go talk outside?”

Emily shakes her head defiantly, grabs her boy, and steps past me. They don’t make it very far before Nick is charging forward. He pushes the bartender with both hands, sending the boy to the ground with a crowd-parting thud. There’s terrifying rage in his eyes, unholy fire as if he could kill the man. The anger could stem from a combination of things, but it probably doesn’t help that his testosterone is pumping from not finishing upstairs.

Emily, ever the bystander, does nothing to help the situation. She looks on with innocent eyes as if she’s a merely a victim in all of this. I’m quickly starting to realize that it’s all an act. She doesn’t give two shits about the bartender. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past her to have come to this place tonight for the same reason as I did, to get something out of Nick. I came here in hopes of understanding him better. Maybe she came here to get a reaction out of him. Job well done.

She turns to me with a wry smile and points to the man on the ground. “You want to kill him too?”

I see red.

She shakes her head and continues, “You want to protect me from a twenty-something pervert who can’t keep his hands off a teenage girl? Or is that none of your business?”

I look to Nick who’s watching the exchange intently and then I look back to Emily. I thought I knew her so well, but she’s changed so much since I left town. It’s a battle for another day. For now, the music has stopped and there’s too many eyes on me. So I do what I do best, I flee.

I’m met with the cool relief of the night air as I burst through the front exit of the club. There’s a bouncer on either side of the door and they watch as I inhale sharply in an effort to catch my breath. The relief is short-lived as I hear the door swing open once more and it’s Nick.

Of course, it’s fucking Nick.

I cock my head to him. He’s still burning hot. If I was a better woman, I’d let him finish what we started in his car or something. Maybe that’d help him calm the hell down. The Calloway men all seem to be connected by having incorrigible sex drives.

“Do you want to tell me what the hell that was about in there?”

I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is yelling at me like that. I don’t owe him shit but I’m too tired to fight and he’s not going to let this go, so I give him the bare minimum to get him off my ass for the night. “Carter wasn’t who you think he was.”

“He was an asshole.” He shakes his head. “He was a selfish fucking prick. You’re not telling me anything new.” He steps forward, balling his hand into a fist. Makes me think he’s considering lobbing a punch my way, but I’m not worried. There are two big, strong bouncers right behind him. His money wouldn’t save him from getting the ass-kicking of his life. I’d pay to watch that. “I’m talking specifically about what you said in there. What in the hell were you talking about?”

The truth is a heavy burden to carry and like I said, I’m tired. It’s someone else’s turn to carry the weight of the world. “Why don’t you ask Emily what happened that day? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your mother why she tried paying me off?”

He’s wide-eyed and speechless. It’s a beautiful fucking sight.

“You don’t want to know the truth,” I continue. “It’ll destroy you.”

The truth? It’s never boring and it’s so fucking close to reaching the surface. The Hamptons is known for scandal, but with a secret this fucking juicy, it would destroy the Calloway empire. I once ran away because I was terrified of telling the truth, that those in power would make me pay. It’s only now that I realize that I alone hold the match and I’m one strike away from an explosion.

Power.

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