Page 84

Story: Jezebel's Liberation

“Fuck you,” Jez hisses.
“Aw, that’s cute,” Stewart taunts. “She really thinks her attitude is somehow gonna save them.”
“Demon, I need you to focus, okay?” Jez says, ignoring the vile scum behind me.
Numbly, I nod, but I can’t get my head to let loose of all the horrific memories or of what’s about to happen. No matter how hard I try, my brain is a chaotic mess of fear and rage.
“Keep her quiet,” Stewart seethes. “Or this is gonna get a whole lot worse.”
Worse? How the fuck can it get worse?
As fingers dig into my ass cheeks to spread them apart, I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look at the woman I love while I’m helpless to stop us both from being raped.
Stewart pants, and I brace myself for the pain I know is coming, only… it doesn’t come. His body heat disappears, and I open my eyes to stare into Jez’s wide ones.
“Holy shit,” she mutters, a grin spreading across her face.
Gunfire erupts, and I count the shots while silently cursing the fact that my weapons were taken from me. Nine shots later, silence fills the large space, and I finally bring myself to straighten and turn around to see what the fuck is going on.
Phantom is standing ten feet away, blood oozing from a gash on his temple, and a Glock pointing at Stewart’s head. Turning in a circle, I take in the rest of the carnage, and it sinks in that Phantom managed to take out every single man in the room while I was cowered over Jez.
“You okay?” Phantom asks. When I don’t speak, he continues. “Demon, fucking answer me! Are you okay?”
“I…” I swallow past the lump in my throat as I bend to pull my pants back up. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.”
“Then can you please untie our girl so I don’t have a fucking heart attack?”
I grab the knife from my jeans pocket and cut the ropes binding Jez to the table. When she sits up, I reach over my head to pull my shirt off and give it to her, but she jumps to her feet and marches toward Stewart.
Phantom’s eyes narrow on her naked form, but he says nothing. Neither do I, for that matter. Jez on the warpath isn’t something a man wants to get in the way of, regardless of her state of undress.
Her fist lands a blow to his nose, and blood spurts. “You’re one sick motherfucker, you know that?” she snarls at Stewart.
He smirks, somehow not recognizing just how far the tables have turned. “Pretty sure your boy toy’s dick doesn’t think so, if the way he hardened in my hand is any indication.”
Rage burns through my veins, and I lunge at him. I still have the knife in my hand, and I thrust it into his groin, relishing his screams of pain.
“Fuck. You,” I spit, tugging Jez behind me. I might not be willing to interrupt her on the warpath, but I’ll be damned if I let Stewart ogle her anymore.
Her hand settles at the small of my back, and I take comfort from the simple touch. I yank the blade out of my living nightmare and toss it to the floor.
“Gimme your gun,” I demand of Phantom.
Phantom hesitates, clearly not wanting to remove the threat from Stewart’s head, but he finally gives in and hands me the weapon.
“Make it fucking hurt,” he demands.
I grin, allowing the darkness I’ve held inside for years to bleed into my expression. “Oh, don’t you worry. It’s gonna hurt.”
Phantom maintains his hold on Stewart’s arm, and I aim the Glock at his chest. “I only have one fucking question,” I tell him.
“Maybe I’ve got an answer,” he quips as if his life isn’t about to end.
“Why me? After all these years, why are you still obsessed with me?”
Stewart throws his head back and laughs maniacally. When he sobers, he levels his gaze on mine. “You’re gonna love this,”he says. “You see, I’d forgotten all about you, Mark. After all, you were only one of many. But then your stupid whore of a girlfriend wen?—”
A sickening crack reverberates through the room when Phantom shoves him to the concrete floor, and he hits his head.