Page 9 of Voracious

“I’m the son of a psychopath who kidnapped his own girlfriend and killed multiple people. Does it not scare you that I might be the same as him? It’s genetically possible. You know how much I struggle with emotions.”

Without hesitation, she shakes her head. “You aren’tTobias.”

“Then why can’t I stop thinking about you? What if it’s the start of an obsession like he has with my mother?”

She grins and pulls me to her, hooking her ankles behind my thighs.

She brushes her fingers through my hair. “I can’t stop thinking about you either. Does that make me a psychopath?”

I scoff. “Of course not.”

“Then there’s your answer. Can you kiss me now? I made it look like I was in my sleeping bag with blankets and a pair of headphones, but it’ll be noticeable now, so I need to go back.”

I chuckle and pull her lips to mine, doing as she says until our tongues are numb. We part ways, our fingers slipping free as she sneaks back into her tent, and I climb into mine.

3

KADE

Blinking under the bright light, I rub my eyes and try to sit up, failing when dizziness knocks me onto my back. I’m not in a sleeping bag or in a tent or in my goddamn dream, I’m in a hotel room, the bed far too soft, with red hair dangling over my face. It isn’t dark and smelling of vanilla. It’s like straw and smells of cigarettes.

The butterflies aren’t there either. The only sign of humanity I have left, that I only feel when I think ofher.

Fuck.

I rub my eyes again, needing to fall back into one of the many memories I escape to when I’m in these situations.

Bernadette leans over me, grinning widely. “Oh, good. I thought you passed out on us. Did we dose you too many times?”

There’s a voice to my left, close – really close – but I don’t try to turn my head to see who it is. Bernadette speaks to them while she leans over me, stroking my cheek like I’m her little petting lamb. Her nails scrape against my stubble, and when I attempt to sit up, she shoves me in the chest and presses her palm down.

I’m far too weak to fight her. My veins are burning with whatever they injected me with.

I’m in and out of consciousness from the drug, but that doesn’t stop them – something jabs at my arm, and a rush of heat spirals down my spine, gathering in my balls. She keeps stabbing me with shit that makes me hard, and no matter what I do, I can’t stop it. Being forced to have a hard-on for weeks is starting to hurt. I want to cut my dick off.

We came back to Scotland a few days ago, staying in a hotel up in Inverness while she signed some deal with new clients. She sold me to a married couple for two days then had to clean the mess up because I killed them both. I don’t remember skinning them alive, but apparently I did the wife first while the husband watched. Neither of them got near me.

I’m nearing my limit, even with all the consequences looming over my head. I’m the son of Tobias Mitchell, for fuck’s sake. I’m not a fucking toy – but in order to protect those I love, I need to pretend to be one. A pet. A killer. A warm body that she sells off, even though she has more money than fucking sense.

Barry better be keeping Stacey safe. I’ve done everything possible to distract Bernie while she hunts for both Stacey and my team. I’m surprised she’s still not dug into her little system and found my ex – it’s like she doesn’t exist at all. It’s… concerning. Someone is messing with her existence. It could be the reason Barry and I were never able to hack her home security or her phone – all I ever got was her previous address and the death certificates of her parents.

If she hadn’t told me about her stepbrother Kyle, I wouldn’t have known he existed. We live just far enough apart that our paths probably wouldn’t cross.

Bernadette did catch the tail of some of my guys in Australia – they were dissecting a terrorist group planning on attacking a high school, but I sidetracked her by causing an issue in Inverness.

I’ve been lying in this bed since yesterday morning. Somewhere near Glasgow. My body is starting to go numb. No food or water – she has fluids going into me through a vein yet still insists on jabbing me with needles.

Bernadette tells her bodyguards to get out and find Archie, and after she locks the door behind them, she pulls off her nightdress and smiles at me. “I know I said I’d give you two weeks off, but you’re coming to a party with me and Cassie next weekend. Then you’re going to take my daughter to the hotel room there, and you’re going to be at least a little more compliant than you are now. She needs to think youwantto be there with her.”

I stare at the monster, and I guess my expression speaks volumes, since I’m too fucked to string words together.

“My daughter can be sensitive to our world. She’ll get used to it, but I need you to be by her side throughout. Archie is still insisting on marriage.”

My empty stomach curdles, and I grit my teeth as she pulls her hair into a ponytail then twists it into a bun.

“Your father is in solitary confinement, and he will stay there until I find who was working for you. Is his life no longer enough? Will I pay your sister a visit next?”

“No,” I grit, my voice strained.

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