Page 32

“There’s nowhere to hide, little devil.” My voice carries on the early morning breeze as I watch Rhys freeze mid-step from my vantage point in a large copper beech tree. His head whips around, trying to find me. “Not going to happen, baby,” I taunt. I’m up way, way above you. The taste of blood floods my tongue as my teeth sink into the soft flesh of my lips in an attempt to hold back the laugh clawing its way up my throat.

Palming the large stone in my hand, I swing my arm back and let it fly, watching with satisfaction as it hits a small branch. It snaps, the sound ricocheting through the silent woods.Rhys spins around, facing the direction of the noise, shoulders heaving as he sucks in ragged breaths that form white clouds as he exhales.

Electricity flows through me, super-heating the blood in my veins as the need to chase him builds. I need to claim him. Fuck him. Own him. Every atom in my body vibrates with hunger for him. To feel his tight cunt wrap around me as I sink into his heat, feeling the way he shudders beneath me as I remind him who he belongs to.

“You have to the count of three before I make you mine,” I growl, sliding down to the branch below. My cock thickens as the anticipation builds, and I give it a quick squeeze to ease the growing pressure. The only thing better than the hunt is the moment before I get to embrace the monster inside me.

“One.” Rhys starts to run, arms and legs pumping as I drop down to the ground, landing in a crouch.

“Two,” I howl into the early morning as the sun starts to bleach the clouds in the sky. I startle a flock of birds resting in a tree as I break through the brambles in front of me.

“Three.” I’m already running by the time the last syllable passes my lips. I dig deep and push through, my arms and legs building speed as I pass the oak he was standing by just moments ago. The dark woods blur as I charge through them, chasing the one thing that will never escape me. I’ve infected him with my brand of obsessive love. I’ve set him free from the chains society wrapped around him and helped him embrace who he is at his core. He loves me to hunt him as much I love to chase him. I’m coming, little devil.

I hurtle down an incline, racing towards the heart of the dense woods where the trees stand sentinel, their shadows dancing in the dim light. “Why did you choose this path, baby?” I shout out, my voice slicing through the silence as I feel his presence nearby. It’s as if an electric charge pulses through the air, propelling me forward with a primal urgency. With lightning reflexes, I duck, evading a low-hanging jagged branch as my feet keep moving.

My heart is pounding in my chest, working its way up my throat as I suck in lungfuls of air. I brace myself against a tree, and that’s when I spot him. His stride falters at the sound of my voice echoing around him, a brief hesitation that fuels my determination. His navy shirt clings to his glistening skin, accentuating the muscles rippling beneath. Suppressing the primal desire surging within me, I crouch behind a decaying trunk to my left, waiting with bated breath for his next move.

The crunch of frozen leaves under running feet grows louder, drawing nearer with each passing second. I press myself into the ground hidden by the shadows, and lie in wait as my senses heighten the closer he gets. I can taste him on my tongue, his sweet ozone scent filling the air, calling to me like a siren’s song.

His steps slow as if he’s searching for me, treading lightly so not to draw my attention as his feet fill my eye-line. Crawling on my stomach, I edge closer to him, my blood turning to liquid fire when I think about grabbing him and dragging him down onto the ground, and burying my aching cock inside him.

I lick my lips, the countdown in my head nearly at zero. He turns his back to me as a flock of birds take flight from a nearby tree. “Too easy, baby,” I whisper. I’m so close I can see the hairs on his arms stand on end as a full body shudder rolls through him. Using the sound of the birds as cover, I move forwards, wrapping my hand around his ankle, and push my shoulder into the back of his knee, knocking him down to the ground.

“Ahhhh fuck,” he shouts as he falls, hands splaying out to catch himself. Using the momentum of his fall, I blanket his back just as he lands, slipping my hand around his throat as my thighs wrap around his waist.

“Hello, little devil,” I breathe against his ear, feeling the shudder of desire that rolls through his body. I slip my hand into my pocket pulling out my butterfly knife and run it down the seam of his back watching the material fall away like butter as I slide down his ass and yank his joggers down, exposing his sweet arse to me. “You took it easy on me today, didn’t you?”

“No—” I shove his face into the ground, silencing his reply. I wrap my finger in his hair, tightening my grip to the point of pain.

“You did,” I seethe and bite down on the soft lobe of his ear, rutting against the firm globes of his arse until I feel him push back against me. Someone wants to play. “You wanted me to catch you, didn’t you? You want me to fuck you, use you, so you feel me for days.”

A groan works past his lips as they curl back, heat burns in his eyes as he pushes up onto his knees. “Yes,” he hisses. “I want you. I need you, angel… make me forget.” His words are like a bolt of lust to my dick as it pushes against the zipper of my jeans. My hands become ravenous as I work his joggers down to his knees and dig them into the flesh of his hips, guiding him up.

“Head down, arse up. I want to eat you for breakfast.” My fingers sink into his cheeks, kneading the flesh before I pull them apart. “Such a pretty pussy,” I say as I expose his tight hole. Burying my head between his cheeks, I run my nose along his crease, inhaling his musky scent, desperate for his taste on my tongue before I fuck my cum into him. Nothing will be sweeter tonight than knowing I’m seeping out of him when we send the devil back to hell. The tip of my tongue traces his rim with taunting little flicks and licks, slicking up his skin before working its way in.

“Oh god. Yes, more.” He moans, rolling his hip so he fucks himself on my tongue as I stiffen it and work it through that tight ring of muscle.

“Such a needy whore…” I pull back, spitting on his entrance, working a finger deep inside him. Slowly sliding it almost all the way out before I push it back in, nudging the bundle of nerves that will make him see the stars.

“Yes. Yes, angel…” I work another one inside while using my free hand to pull down the zipper on my jeans and freeing my aching length. A pearl of precum beads from my slit as I give myself a couple of slow strokes, needing to be inside him more than anything at this moment. “That’s enough. I’m good, I promise.” Rhys whines as I withdraw my fingers from his channel but silences as soon as I notch my tip against his rim.

Rolling my hips in a slow tease, I snatch my knife from the floor and score it along my palm, revelling in the stinging burn as it slices through my skin. I squeeze around the blade until crimson droplets land along my shaft and trickle down his crease, moaning as a wave of euphoria rolls through me. “This is going to be hard and fast, little devil.” I slick up my length with my bleeding hand and grip his hip with the other one, digging my fingers into his skin.

“Please, please, please…f-fuck me.” My fingertips trace the scabs on his lower back, making his skin pickle with goosebumps before I slam into him, bottoming out in one thrust.

“FUUUUUCCCCCKKK,” he cries out as I set a relentless pace, leaving him breathless as I own every inch of him inside and out.

“Mine. Your fucking mine, little devil.”

“Yours. Always….Angel.”

* * *

Flamingtorches line the driveway down to Barton Grange. Nothing says welcome to hell like an entrance of fire. I try not to snort at the irony of it, because if everything goes to plan, then it won’t just be the torches burning well into the early hours of the morning. I pull at the collar of the tux Rhys made me wear. It’s too tight and makes my skin itch. “I look fucking ridiculous,” I mutter under my breath. The monsters in my mind are restless tonight, rattling their chains as they pull against their restraints, baying for the blood of their creator.

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

The black mask obscuring half my face makes me feel like I permanently need to sneeze, but Rhys said we had to wear them before we were collected from some obscure place outside Mirewood. And like a sap, I did as he asked. Tonight is about anonymity—until it isn’t—but we can’t have anything about this event tracking back to us.

“What’s up with you? Stop fidgeting,” Rhys huffs under his breath.

“Nothing… just ugh, this thing is damn uncomfortable.”

“That may be.” Rhys leans across the back seat until his lips brush my ear, making waves of electricity flow under my skin. “But you look fucking hot in it.” I shudder, leaning into him, feeling a smile curve his lips as they trail open-mouthed kisses down my neck.

The radio plays quietly in the background, but something on the local news catches my attention. “Can you turn that up, please,” I ask the driver, fighting the moan trying to force its way out of my chest and batt Rhys away, mouthing listen to him when a disgruntled look crosses his face.

On tonight’s ten o’clock news, we have the latest update on the closure of Horizon Road. An air ambulance was called to a single-car incident at around eleven this morning after a car collided with a tree on the treacherous stretch of road. It has now been confirmed that the driver of a black Seat Leon was confirmed dead on arrival by the ambulance crew.

My mind runs through a million different scenarios as it tugs on a memory that had something to do with cars. I tip my head back, resting it against the headrest and allow my eyes to fall closed as I try and wade my way through the cacophony of noise in my brain. It only takes a couple of minutes for my wired psyche to help connect the dots and a smile splits my lips.

“Hello?” Rhys says. I flick my eyes over to him, seeing he’s talking on his phone, one that he was meant to have gotten rid of before coming here tonight. Fuck! I want to fucking scream at him they could trace our location thanks to this call you dickhead, but instead, I bite my tongue until the copper tang overrides my senses.

Out of all the things Rogue has done for us over the last few days, the need to remain untraceable was at the top of his list. And to do that Rhys needed to get rid of his phone. “Fucking idiot,” I mutter under my breath as Rhys talks in hushed tones. Rogue has been fucking awesome. Without them, tonight wouldn’t be happening at all. They’re some kind of ninja hacker who has been able to set us up with new untraceable accounts, new IDs, and new lives for us from the day we were born to now. With the information I gleaned from Dr Grey after Rhys stormed out, we—they—were able to locate the families of every child that has been a victim of Neil and Dr Wolfes’ child sex ring. They have a plan in place for once they drain Neil’s accounts for payments to go out to each of the families.

They are also on standby for when we start the after party—once all the other guests have left—and we politely ask the devil to do a bit of a show and tell, spilling all his dark secrets for the world to hear. While he’s occupied, I’ll plug in the USB sticks I was sent into his pc. They have a preprogrammed virus on them that will give Rogue full access to the locked folders on Neil’s pc, allowing Rogue to then send that along with everything else they have been able to collect to the relevant authorities. And then deleting anything pertaining to me for good. That was the one thing I made Rogue promise, that nothing about me could get out as it would destroy Rhys. He’s already drowning under a mountain of guilt simply because his sperm donor is the devil incarnate.

“Angel?” Rhys’s warm hand wraps around my nape squeezing to the point of pain that zings through my blood and has me looking up at him through my lashes.

“Yeah?” I rasp, as his thumb traces little circles on the sensitive skin making a shiver flow down my spine.

“That was Tyler.”

“What did he want?”

“Said he had a call from Thom’s mum a little while ago.” I feel something warm unfurl in my gut, could it be… could it? “She said that Thom died this morning when his car crashed into a tree.” A sadistic smile carves its way across my face. Another monster leaves my mind as it’s sent back to hell.

“Fuck, yeah,” I moan as he increases the pressure on my neck and leans in closer to me.

“That make you happy, angel?”

“You have no idea,” I whisper, feeling his smile against the side of my face. “Some of the best news I’ve had today, you?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m so fucking glad he’s gone.” We continue to speak in hushed tones so the driver doesn’t over hear us as I toy with the two small bottles in my pockets. Fuck, it seems like things are looking up for us and there’s a possibility that we might get to see the sunrise and be free. Even if I don’t make it out alive, at least I know Rhys will be free, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I can die with a smile on my face.

“Do you know if Gale made it home?” I glance at Rhys as he rolls his bottom lip through his teeth and nods.

“Yup, the car is booked for him to get back to the cottage around lunchtime tomorrow and the package will be delivered later in the afternoon.” Rhys lets loose a frustrated sigh at our predicament. On one hand, he’s happy that we are in a position to help Gale, but on the other, he’s gutted to be losing his best friend

“It’s for the best. You know this.”

“I do, K. It’s just he’s been my best friend for years, and he’s going through so much…”

“You’re worried about him?” As much as I hate to admit it, once Gale finally got the message to not fucking touch what doesn’t belong to him, he started to grow on me like some flesh-eating fungus. But still he was growing on me. So, I can kinda see where Rhys is coming from, but empathy has never been something I’ve been able to feel.

“We’re here, gentleman.” The Uber driver’s voice forces us apart as we slip into the personas we need to play for the evening. Thankfully, Rogue was able to get us two official invites to tonight’s event, leaving us just three loose ends to tie up.

“Thanks, man.” I reach into my pocket for the cash to pay him. “Ugh, this is fucking horrible,” I moan, pulling at the collar strangling me.

The driver snickers behind his hand, earning a glare. “Rather you than me. I’m not much for jumped-up pricks.” He clears his throat, then looks up at me, almost expecting me to shout at him, and I just smirk.

“Think we caused a stir by arriving in an Uber instead of a limo.” I chuckle as I shimmy across the seat and slip out. Adrenaline floods my body, sharpening my senses, warring with the never ending sense of dread about walking back into my hellscape.

I’ve tried to stay in the moment and not allow the dread that’s been slithering inside me all day to take me back to that room. To the dark. His touch. To not allow the insidious memories that flicker behind my eyes to fracture the tenuous hold I have on reality and turn me into that broken boy again. The one that lives rent free in my chest that cries himself to sleep every night, praying someone would be strong enough to take on the devil and win. Who dissociated himself with reality, withdrew into his mind, even though it was roamed by monsters who walk in the daylight. Ones he could never escape. They sunk their claws in and became living breathing entities inside him.

Monsters that whispered in his ear that the only way to escape his memories was to drown in a different sort of pain. Until it became an addiction—one that I’ll never be able to quit. That he didn’t deserve to live. He was worthless. That he only exists as a hole, a toy for the devil to use.

That boy grew and turned his pain into armour forged in the hell that broke him. He wore it everyday, strengthening it every time the devil broke his body and his mind, until people only saw what he wanted them to see. They never saw him bleeding, they never noticed when his blood turned black with the vile sickness he was infected with as it started to take root in his mind, controlling and conditioning him.

I’m doing it to save him.

To save us.

To save me.

“You good, angel?” Rhys’s arm wraps around my shoulder, his thumb brushing against my neck, pulling me back to the crowd amassing around us. Heading into a house bathed in blood and depravity—it’s dripping from the ceiling—staining them as they walk through the door. Tainting them, irrevocably changing them.

“Yup.” I pat down my pocket, making sure my little bottles of magic are still concealed inside safely tucked away until I need them. “You got the bag?”

“Of course.” His voice flows over me like silk, sweet and seductive. He moves closer until our shoulders are brushing but drops his arm between us and I immediately feel an aching coldness crystallise in my chest. “I’m sorry, baby.” Rhys’s little finger brushes against mine. “We can’t draw any attention to ourselves. We don’t want him to know we’re here.”

“I know,” I whisper into the night, blinking back tears. Am I really strong enough to do this? Will I survive taking a life that isn’t mine? Will Rhys still love me? I fist my hands as they start to shake and focus on keeping my breathing even while locking down my emotions so they don’t show on my face. Even though I’m hidden behind a mask, I’m sure he’ll know I’m back the moment I step foot in the door.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” Sarah says, taking our invitations and checking them over. She smiles up at us, completely oblivious to who is hiding behind the mask. “I hope you have a lovely evening.”

I lean into Rhys, turning my head slightly towards him. “You did arrange for the staff to leave at the end of the event, right?”

* * *

As the finalglittering fireworks cascade down from the heavens, they paint the sky in a mesmerising display of colours, illuminating the darkness with bursts of vibrant hues. The air is filled with the soft echoes of crackling embers, while the lingering scent of gunpowder adds a touch of nostalgia to the night.

We stand silently in the shadows, watching as the last of the evening’s guests leave, slipping into an array of ridiculously expensive black cars that I can’t even name, bar the wicked midnight-blue Bugatti. “Is there some kind of guide for how to be rich?” I flick my gaze over to Rhys as a look of confusion contorts his face.

“What?”

I snicker. “Like, is there a guide book that says buy any overpriced car you want, but it can only be in black. Unless it’s a Ferrari, then it must be red or you’ll look like a right twat.”

“Dear god, give me strength,” Rhys mutters. His hands coast down my arm until his fingers brush with mine. “Think that was the last of them?”

“Yup.” My heart starts to thunder, slowly working its way up my throat as I slip on a pair of black gloves. I shiver, and it has nothing to do with the frigid night air, but everything to do with the explosive mix of anticipation, fear, and dread coiling in my stomach like a loaded spring. I focus on the sound of Rhys’s steady breathing, allowing the rhythm to ground me as I tap my fingertips against my thumb again and again.

We stop a few feet from the back door that leads to the kitchen, waiting as the staff file out one by one like little worker ants and disperse into the waiting cars and head off into the night not realising they’ll need new jobs come sunrise.

Rhys grabs the bag he hid amongst the lavender scruff earlier and unlocks the door. I follow him in, and I’m immediately hit with a barrage of memories that has me wanting to claw at my skin. It’s suffocating as every scream I’ve let loose in this house forces its way up my throat, stealing my breath.

Fuzzy hand cup my cheeks. “You good, angel?” Unable to speak, I give him a small nod and a smile that resembles a grimace. “I’ve got you, remember that. Right, let’s get this done.” He leans over and kisses me softly, a gentle caress filled with a million promises of what’s to come.

A future.

A life.

Freedom.

We pull on black gas masks, tightening them so we don’t end up with carbon monoxide poisoning and set the final scene. I go to the stainless steel industrial hob and turn all the rings on, so gas starts flowing and filling the room. Rhys disappears, making my heart freeze mid-beat and fear wrap around my throat, but it only takes a second before he’s placing a decanter of port and three glasses on the worktop, along with a box of cigars and a lighter.

“Do they need cheese?” Rhys asks curiously, his voice muffled and distorted by the mask.

“Do they need cheese? Fuck my life,” I grit out. “They’re gonna be fucking barbecue. Rhys, I don’t think they’ll be worrying if they can eat some cheese and crackers.” I roll my eyes so hard I’m worried they’ll get stuck in my head as Rhys chuckles.

“Made you smile, so I can’t be in trouble.”

“Fuck off,” I groan, shoving him in the back to keep things moving along, making him stumble towards the door. “Bag!” I snap, as I start to feel a fine tremor working its way through my body. Fucking keep it together.

The longer this takes, the more likely something is to go wrong. We make our way down the hall to Neil’s office on silent feet as I send a final text to Rogue.

Me

Queue stream, and upload coming in 5!

Withheld

*thumbs up emoji*

“Here, you take these and put them in while I warm him up.” Rhys says giving me the USB sticks. “Give me a sign when you get the signal from Rouge.”

“Like the secret signal?” I say, waving my arms around in the air like an inflatable flailing arm thing. Rhys sighs and rolls his eyes. My stupidity does what I’d hoped as his shoulders shake

Rhys holds his finger to his lips as he slips inside the office. A barrage of muffled voices comes from the other side of the door before falling silent. My heart hammers in my chest with enough force to shatter bones. I take a deep breath, remembering why I’m doing this. “For him. For us. For me,” I mutter under my breath just as Rhys opens the door. The sight that greets my eyes has me wanting to fall to my knees and wrap my arms around my head.

“You’re not meant to be here,” Neil slurs, venom dripping from his voice as he looks at us with a disgusted sneer.

“We won’t be long, I assure you. Just here to tidy up a few loose ends, ya know.” I try for nonchalant but even I can hear the unmistakable quiver in my voice. Neil sits there with an evil smile splitting across his face as he licks his lips, eyes roaming over my body from head to foot.

“Oi,” Rhys snaps his fingers right in front of Neils eyes. “Look at me, not him.”

I fish out the two USB sticks and slide them into the PC before turning it on and angling it to face where Rhys has positioned a very amenable Neil. His eyes are slightly glazed and his cheeks flushed—all the symptoms of a good night with free-flowing alcohol. My phone vibrates in short bursts against my thigh.

I give Rhys the signal that he can start to get Neil talking. I’m hoping the sodium pentothal I managed to slip into his drink really works and he starts to blurt the truth out without too much persuasion. This was the one thing Rhys asked to do when I told him of my intentions. He wants to be the one to make him break and spill his depraved secrets to the rest of the world. This evening is going to burn the old me to the ground along with the house and set free the ghosts that live here.

“Hello, Neil, could you confirm your full name for me.” Neil arches a brow as he studies Rhys, tilting his head to the side before his tongue wets his bottom lip.

“My name is Neil Dixon. Why?” Mmmm, why indeed I muse as I start searching the desk for his mobile. It’s always on him. I’m about to step back from the table as something white catches my eye on the floor next to Neil’s shiny shoe. I drop to my knees without thinking and crawl to pick it up. “Hello there, have you, have you come to play?” His distorted voice echoes through my head. What if he knows who we are? What if he knew what we were planning to and was just waiting on the pigs to arrive?

“No, he’s not. He’s mine,” Rhys growls, making Neil’s shoulders shake as he suppresses his laughter.

“So, Neil, tell me about what you did to your stepson. How you broke him. How you used him. I want to know everything.” I can hear the wince in Rhys’s voice as a shudder rolls through him, his hands white-knuckling the desk.

“It was nearly eleven years ago,” Neil starts, staring up at Rhys, his face illuminated with a salacious hunger. “And I saw this beautiful little boy. Perfect pale skin and eyes so blue it felt like you were staring into the crystalline depths of the ocean. I knew then he was mine.” Rhys chokes back a growl as I feel colder and colder with every layer of ice his story builds on my skin.

“Why did you w-want him?” I chance a look at the PC screen and see this live has got two million views and counting.

“Because he was perfect. Breakable.” Neil licks his lips and sneers. “He was innocent. And I knew how pretty his screams would be.” I clap my hands over my ears and curl into the foetal position on the floor as the monsters in my head roar and gnash their teeth, trying to break free. Soon. Soon I’ll set you free. “I knew his blood would be the perfect shade on my cock…” I scream silently as his words land like an unending meteor shower, crashing into my body, pelting it with rock and ice. I squeeze my eyes shut until the world goes dark. Until I can’t hear anything anymore.

I flinch as something shakes my shoulder, and a scream tears out of my throat. “Angel.” Fingers stroke through my hair as acid tears melt my skin. “Angel, come back to me. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He hauls me up until I’m cradled in his arms as he rocks me slowly, soothing the maelstrom obliterating my mind with his calming words and soft caresses as I cry into the crook of his neck until a wave of exhaustion threatens to drag me under.

“S-sorry.” I try to smile but the muscles in my face don’t want to cooperate.

“Shhhh, none of that baby. I love you.”

“I’m good. Let’s finish this.” It’s a lie. He knows it and so do I, but if I don’t do this now, I never will.

Rhys convinces Neil to go to the kitchen for a drink as I trail after. It strikes me how surreal this moment is. I’m about to make him pay in blood and tears. I’m going to make him scream and wish he was dead. Make him beg until his throat is hoarse and then laugh in his face, just like he did to me. All while wearing a mask. It makes me kind of sad he won’t know it was me who broke him.

By the time I make it to the kitchen, Rhys has Neil bent over the table. His front flat on the surface, shirt hanging open at his sides. His arms and legs are spread wide, wrists and ankles bound and tightly tied to the table legs. Neil struggles, his head thrashing, teeth bared as he tries to break free but doesn’t succeed.

Fear fills my body, freezing the air in my lungs and halting my beating heart. I stand there staring at him like I’m carved from ice, unable to get any part of my body to cooperate. The only thing still working in my mind, as the same words—For him. For us. For me—circle on repeat. As I allow that voice to grow in my head, the words flow through me, thawing me, giving me strength and purpose until I feel like I’m bathed in sunlight, warm and safe. It’s only when my eyes flutter open do I realise Rhys is surrounding me, holding me together, keeping me safe.

“You’ve got this, angel. Send him home.” He brushes a kiss to my palm and goes to slap Neil’s face, waking him up.

“I’m like glass, Neil. You broke me, so I’m going to cut you.” A smile curves my lips, even though he can’t see it. Cold blue eyes stare through me, and his top lips curl back. “You know who I am, don’t you?” Neil bares his yellowing teeth and spits at me. I laugh. “You don’t scare me.” I chuckle, flicking my butterfly knife open and sinking my fingers into his hair, ripping his head backwards. “It’s time you know how it feels when someone rips you open. Tears your flesh apart until you bleed and go numb from the pain. You won’t be so lucky though.” I tilt my head to the side and tut. “We have this lovely little drug that will make it feel like fire is searing the inside of your veins. I can’t wait to hear you scream with that.”

I flip the blade in my hand a couple more times, then bring it to his mouth, slicing the corners before forcing his jaws wide open, giving him a beautiful Chelsea smile. Neil screams, shoulders thrashing, scarlet drops spraying all over my shirt. “Look what you’ve done.” I sigh, smearing the blood into the thin material. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Always loved the sound of his own voice.”

“Mhmm, let’s fix that.” I clap with glee before wrapping my hand around Neil’s tongue and slowly working the blade through the thick muscular flesh. His screams morph into something from my nightmares, but I push on, tossing his tongue onto the top of the hob.

“Much better,” Rhys mutters as the room falls silent. His eyes run over me, cataloguing everything. “You good?”

“Yup.” I smile. “Do you think you could grab the handle from the bag? Just be careful, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m good.” Before I can blink, Rhys is back with my modified broken broom handle. I can’t wait to see how much Neil enjoys having his insides shredded. I take a deep fortifying breath and walk up behind him, slapping him on the arse with my trusty handle until he jerks back into consciousness. “Welcome back, you ugly cunt,” I growl, walking around the table to show Neil his prize. “What do you think, Neil? I made this especially for you. Do you like it?” Neil screams a disembodied sound, it’s a cacophony of agony but it’s like water off a duck’s back with me.

I sink into the darkness that swirls in my veins, embracing the bloodlust boiling inside me. “I even made it sparkle.” I twist the broken handle in the light so the shards of glass shimmer next to the pieces of barbed wire and rusty nails hammered through it. “I hope you like it rough.” His head lifts, cheeks clenching as I brush my hand over his skin.

“Rhys, I need a hand.” He sidles up to me, sweat beading on his brow, his skin looking a lovely shade of green that makes me laugh. “Weak stomach?”

“Fuck off. I can handle your toxic brand of love, but I draw the line at staring at my father’s arse.”

“There, there,” I coo condescendingly. “Just pull them open. Once it’s in, you can let go.”

“I think I’m just there up in my mouth,” Rhys grumbles as shaky hands slowly pull Neil’s cheeks apart, and I slot my handle against his hole. “I’m going to go on the count of three. Ready?” Neil groans, shaking his head.

“One…. Two…” I take a deep breath and ram it home. It’s hard pushing it through that tight ring of muscle. Neil screams loud enough to wake the dead and rattle my bones. When I start pulling the first couple of inches back, blood pours from his ravaged skin. I push it back in and pull it back going deeper and deeper every time until he’s having the full length inside him and his screams rending the air have fallen silent.

“What now, angel?” I lick my lips as the copper tang of his blood flows over my tongue and blink, trying to clear away the building moisture as a wall of emotion slams into me.

“Can you text Dr Wolfe and grab me the syringe of burny liquid.” I hold my hand out to him, making a grabby motion. I just hope he can’t see how violently it’s shaking. If this all goes to plan, Regina and Dustan will be taken out too. It was a stroke of luck finding out they were staying in one of the cottages tonight. Sometimes, life has a sense of serendipity.

“You know it’s not called burny liquid, right?” Rhys chuckles, and I wrap that sound around me, holding on to it like a lifeline.

“Right.” Rhys chuckles, digging the syringe out of the bag and passes it to me. It only takes a second to remove the cap, clear the bubbles, and stick it in Neil’s blood-covered ass. I look at the deep black bruises spreading across his cheeks and feel…relieved? Lighter? By the time I’m standing by Rhys, Neil is screaming as he feels his veins being raised to charcoal.

I step in front of Neil and slap his face, “Suck it up, you piece of shit.” My palm burns from the impact but, fuck is it worth it. I sink my fingers into his hair and rip his head back so his eyes are focused on me. “My past dies with you—tonight. From the flames and the ashes of your life, I will rise victorious. I will wipe my slate clean. Obliterate the archive of agony you have subjected me to. I will give my heart to the man I love and get the chance at a life you have systematically denied me. You’ve tried to break me.” A hollow laugh tears its way up my throat. “And almost succeeded but inevitably, you failed. Where you fall, I rise. Where you die. I am born again. I hope the devil shreds your soul for eternity, subjecting you to everything you forced on me and countless others.”

“Well done, baby,” Rhys murmurs as he wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my hands shaking uncontrollably. “We should go before the others arrive.”

“Yup, I think I can hear them now. And look, it’s almost three a.m. Baby, see? You can be on time.” I roll my eyes at his attempt at levity and give him a wobbly smile as we slip out the back door just in time.

“Seems that devil’s breath does what you said.”

“Maybe, but it’s not burning yet. So we need to run.” Rhys hooks his arm around my waist and practically drags me as I feel my brain slowly shutting down the events of the night a bit too much.

The kitchen lights flick on and the faint echo of a scream reaches our ears, making us run faster than ever away from the house. We don’t get more than a couple of hundred metres away before the ground is rocked by a massive explosion, the blast sending us sprawling across the ground.

“Fuck.” I groan, as the heat from the building behind us makes the air suffocating as it sears my lungs with every breath I take.

“Shit. Come on, angel.” Rhys scoops me up, tossing me over his shoulder as he runs like the flames are chasing him. “Shut your eyes, baby.” The world turns into a pendulum as I stay still. It seems to last forever until I’m laid out on the cool earth.

“Ahhhh, that’s better.” I groan, rolling my shoulders and wiggling my toes until the numbness wears off and feeling comes back to my extremities. We tear our masks off and Rhys settles down next to me, propping his head on his hand as he watches his childhood home burn.

“You good, little devil?” I ask, running my eyes over him, checking for any sign of injuries. This is a lot for him to process. It probably won’t really sink in for a while but I’ll be here for him when the full force of our actions hit him, just like he is for me every day.

“Yes, angel… how about you?” He leans over trailing his knuckles down my cheek, wiping away some of the blood splattered on my face. What I did tonight hasn’t really registered with my brain. It’s like I was able to separate myself from it all—a total disconnect—as I shredded and violated his body. The one thing I’m sure of is that I’ll never feel a shred of guilt, he got what he deserved.

“We’re sitting in a graveyard of my pain, watching the man who created the monster within me burn for his sins. It’s kind of poetic, don’t you think? Sending the devil back to hell.” I root around in my pocket, my fingers brushing the joint I slipped in there before we left and place it between my lips. My rainbow zippo shimmers in the light like oil slick water. I’m so glad Rhys found it and kept it for me. Flicking the flint, I watch as the red cherry on the end of my joint merges with the colourful flames billowing from the house burning in the distance. I finally feel the tension start to ease in my muscles as I take a long drag and feel the thick smoke flood my lungs.

“I do, angel.” He sighs before turning to look at me, a frown creasing his face. His lips push against mine, teasing them before his tongue begs for entry. I open up to him, exhaling the smoke into his lungs. He moans as he deepens the kiss, and his hands cup my cheeks, making me feel precious as his thumbs wipe away my tears. “We’re free, angel.” Rhys traces their path with his tongue, drinking down my pain.

“We’re finally free.” I agree. “I. Love. You,” I murmur against his lips between kisses.

“Love you, angel.”