Page 62 of Dark Ink

No one was coming for me. The calvary was fucking here and they were a goddamn liability.

“Rian,” I said softly as I watched his gaze try to focus. “Rian, why don’t you just sit down. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Did something happen?”

Rian was too far gone for me to reach him, his too bright eyes unblinking. I tugged at his wrist, but he didn’t react. I wasn’t strong enough to push him around.

“Rian,” I tried again. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just…doing someone a little favour. Just some editing work really. No different from what I do for school.”

My tone was soft, gentle. I thought if I couldn’t get in with a hammer, I’d try a feather. My thumb circled the bone of his wrist. I checked over my shoulder to see if there was something else he was looking at. There was only the baseball bat and its anarchy stickers and smashed-in nails. I drew my attention back to Rian when his breathing went ragged. I was sure I’d felt his pulse jump in his wrist, his heart leap beneath my palm.

I spoke more quickly now. “I’m not hurt, okay? He didn’t touch me. And he won’t. Because I’m fixing everything. Rian?”

“That bat…” Anger contorted Rian’s face, colour flooding his pale cheeks. If there was any of the pale blue left in Rian’s eyes it was gone now, burned away at his fury.

I saw only my own reflection when he looked down at me: a frightened girl who couldn’t fix a goddamn thing.

“It was Nick, wasn’t it?” Rian asked in a hoarse voice as if he’d been shouting all night.

“How do you know Nick?” I blurted out without thinking.

It was a stupid mistake. Stupid. But it was as good as an admission.

Before I could correct my mistake, Rian stormed out, muttering, “I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.”

Rian

The black wrought iron gates of campus rose up in the dark like a mouth to swallow me. I plunged inside without a second thought. I hardly knew where I was going. Across Dublin. Across campus. I wasn’t certain I was taking the shortest path to one of Nick’s drug dens, but I knew with an unwavering conviction that if I just kept walking I’d find one. I’d find him. Then I’d kill him.

Eithne screamed out for me to stop, but I barely heard her. I was too far gone. She tugged at my arm, trying to get me to slow; instead I dragged her with me.

Nick had put his hands on her. He had hurt her. I would tear him limb from limb.

“Stay with me.”

That made me freeze and cock my head toward Eithne. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t find Nick.” She pressed her body up against mine, her breasts into my chest, her hot pussy against my thigh. “Be with me tonight.” She grabbed my hand and pulled it to her breast, her nipple like a pebble under my palm.

“Take it out on me. Punish me.”

I knew she was doing this to try to stop me. Using my desire for her, my need for her to stop me. The larger part of me didn’t care.

“Don’t offer something you don’t really—”

“I want it. I fucking want it so bad.”

I wrapped my hand around her throat firmly. “What do you want. Say it.”

She whimpered. “Please… I need you to do bad things to me, to hurt me a little. Need you to call me your little whore.”

I pulled her into the nearest darkened building and kicked open the closest door.

I pushed her into one of the art studios. Ironic that it happened to be the very studio where I’d stood there naked on the pedestal and spotted her among the canvases.

“Take your clothes off like a good little slut.”

I stood there breathing like a wild bull through my nostrils, as Eithne locked eyes with me. She gripped the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it off. Then she pushed down her jeans and panties too. She shivered in the dim light filtering in through the opaque windows from the corridor. I let my eyes travel over her beautiful naked body.

“Turn around and bend over the desk. Show me that pussy.”

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