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Chapter Nineteen

Byron

“ B yron, what did he do to you?” Gabriela’s voice is soft and shaky, but she’s trying to keep it together for me. I look at my sister’s face—the terror, guilt, and shame written on her skin.

“Nothing that wasn’t done before,” I say, chuckling a little, trying to humor her with my response. But it’s not going to change anything. I know my sister well enough to know this will eat her up alive if I let it. But I also couldn’t tell her the things that happened in that studio—what Ren, her boyfriend, did to me... and worse, what I did.

Shame hits me, and I look away, unable to meet her eyes. I focus on the IV, and even that brings me back to him.

“By—“ she begins, swallowing back a small sob as her hand moves over her mouth.

And my heart can’t take it. Despite the pain, I embrace my sister.

“I’m—“

“Shh, it’s okay,” I say as I rub circles on her back. “Shh... it’s okay. I got you,” I whisper into her hair as her body begins to shift beneath my touch.

Her vanilla and cinnamon scent is gone, replaced by the scent of him.

I open my eyes, and I’m no longer in the hospital. And it’s not my sister that I’m holding.

It’s Ren. Naked. In my arms.

I feel the guilt wrapping around my throat tighter than the chain he placed on me. My hand burns from the contact, and how it rests on his back as if it was always meant to be there. His scent overpowers anything else in the room, and I feel the blood rushing to my cock where his leg rest. I should push him away... but I remain here.

Tethered to him... smelling the faint remnants of his shampoo. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, trying not to see those dead, dull eyes that have haunted me—Johnathan’s, Theresita’s, Gabby’s, mine. I feel a tear leave the corner of my eye. I should be fighting... screaming. But instead, I breathe him in like I’ve never wanted anything more. My arm involuntarily tightens around him, bringing him closer to me while I clench my teeth. The movement itself is physically painful, emotionally scarring—but still, I do it.

“Did he?” she asks, pulling away, wiping the tears and hair from her face. “Did he ra—“ she can’t even finish her words. Gabriela found us both naked—it wasn’t hard to connect the dots–and she has always known about my sickness, even though I tried to hide it. Her soft hand cups my face, begging me to look at her, but I couldn’t because I knew she was falling for him. As for everything that happened before she arrived... was it rape?

Or did I want it?

Did I welcome my sister’s boyfriend’s cock inside me, not caring what he was doing—because of how I was feeling?

I don’t look up as her hand falls from my face and she collapses on my bed, crying into the sheets. My hands shake as I move to console her, but I freeze... the shame keeping me in place. I wasn’t the victim here... she is, as is Theresita—not me. I wanted him from the moment I had met him as my lawyer...

My biggest secret was what I felt when I walked into that room. His presence suffocated me, and unnerved me so much I couldn’t wait to leave. That night, I watched him fuck her, but she was background noise, and all I saw was him.

I was no victim...

I’ve always been a willing participant.

Removing my hand from around Ren, I remove the IV, careful not to startle him or make myself bleed too much. Once I get it out, I get up to use the bathroom in his room. The smell of Ren is everywhere, and once I’m done with my morning business, I stare at myself in the mirror, not recognizing who I see. I look thinner, sunken, and dull-eyed. Slowly, I’m sinking into the darkness where her light can’t reach me, but his can.

I try to swallow my anger, but I can’t—my fist connects with the mirror, over and over, until the mirror gives in to my hand. Shards of glass embed in my knuckles but I don’t care. I welcome the pain because it means it’s real.

This is real.

“FUCK YOU!” I scream as I continue to punch the mirror, the sharp glass continuing to penetrate my skin, but it’s not the physical pain that’s killing me... destroying me... it’s what’s inside.

The feeling I can’t rip away. My commotion must have woken up the monster, feeling his warm arms wrap around me. It’s like water splashing on fire. Sun and moon colliding, creating the perfect bloody eclipse.

“Shh,” he coos in my ear. “I’m here,” he says, as if that’s supposed to be reassuring or comforting.

“You,” I growl, trying to break free from his hold. “You did this to me.” I sob as I continue to thrash in his arms. Feeling my blood coat my fingers and drip to the floor.

“Byron, stop.”

But I don’t. The pain... the anger... is all too much to swallow down. “You did this to me,” I repeat softly as I continue to thrash around until my face is smashed against the wall.

“Then let me cure you.” His voice snakes up my spine, wrapping around my heart like thorns. “Let me cure you,” he breathes into my neck before sinking his teeth into my flesh. My ass arches toward him, desperate and pathetic. But I’m way past caring. I want to stop feeling this way. I want to be me again, or at least something close to it, so I say words that I never expected to leave my lips because I accept his cure.

“Fuck me, Ren. Cure me. Infect me. I don’t care, but make me feel nothing but you inside me.”

Ren stops, pulling away from me, his warmth gone, and I stand, the cool of the wall grounding me too much. His rejection is loud. Deafening. Like a final nail I didn’t see coming.

“REN,” I say with desperation, but he says nothing, and I hear him walk away from me, which infuriates me.

Fuck him.

Fuck Ren.

Fuck him.

Storming into the bedroom, I catch up to him and tackle him to the ground. He quickly maneuvers around me, laughing as he wraps his arm around my head, placing me in a chokehold. “What’s the matter, Byron. You need to be fucked and bred? You miss my cock tearing through your tight hole” he whispers in my ear as we struggle, him trying to keep me down and me trying to free myself. I’ll show him what I need. I’ll show him what he’s made out of me but before I can, he presses his erection into my back, rubbing it on me.

“Is this what you want, Thorn? Beg for it,.” he says as he pushes me to the ground, releasing his arm and shoving my face into the cold floor.

“BEG!.” he roars from behind me as he rubs his cock between my ass. Warmth spreads through me, my brain wants to fight but my body fully surrenders to his cruelty as his large hand spanks my ass causing me to arch up like a bitch in heat. I want to scream. I want to shove his face into the same floor he’s pressing mine into, but all I can do is moan like a fucking animal. Why does it feel so good? Why do I ache for it?

“Pathetic,” my father’s voice echoes inside my head. “Always were.”

“So pathetic..” he says as he presses me even deeper into the floor.

“Fuck you.”

I want to say more. I want to bite him, bleed him—but my cock is hard. My traitorous fucking cock presses into the floor and all I feel is shame and heat.

“Oh. I’m gonna and it’s gonna hurt.” Good. I wait for the intrusion but this pain is different. His hand smacks my ass harder, causing me to let out a weak yelp. Followed by another then paired with a slow rub.

“You like pain, pet.” Smack. “You like my cruelty.” Smack. “Say it,” he orders, rubbing my warm, burning ass cheek. But before I can respond— another smack. And then another, this one stinging so bad I yelp.

Smack.

The pain has me closing my eyes, and I see Theresita’s sad eyes. Then, I see Johnathan’s face—blue eyes dulling. I hear Gabriela sobbing.

And yet, I moan. God forgive me, I moan. And I let the tears fall, because this is what he’s made out of me.

Smack.

My dick painfully presses into the ground, begging for him... needing his touch.

“Ye—“ I stutter. “Yes.”

“Good boy, such a good fucking boy,” he says, before landing another smack that causes me to cum where I lay.

I cum like an animal. Like a slave. Like the man I swore I’d never be.

Disgust and embarrassment overpower the high of my release, and nothing sinks me deeper into my shame than watching Ren stand and walk out of the room.

And I just lay there. Broken. Sticky. My cum soaking me.

A ruined canvas…still begging for the artist.