Helena haunts me.

Her screams fill the mine over the next several days. Even as far underground as we are, Baron insisted on moving her deep into the mining system. The two large tunnels converge at the end, forming a sort of circle if you walk far enough. At the end, there is a single room where the two tunnels intersect; a small dirt room with an ill-fitted iron door that’s rusted and cracked in several places, which barely allow any light to enter it. He wanted to ensure that she can’t be heard, but there isn’t a single place in the mine where her screams don’t find me. Even in my room, where I try to sleep on my bed, surrounded by warmth and silence, I can hear the faintest cries and screams through the stone walls.

Each day was different. Baron would wander the tunnels, looking for something new to take back to her cell such as picks, knives, saws etc. I wouldn’t watch, but I’d listen. I’d stand outside the doors, hearing her screams and cries with that same question playing on repeat before he’d cut her again.

Bane.

I lean against the wall as another shriek of pain pierces the air. The lights flicker when the taser is ignited and her screams turned to garbled cries.

I touch the blackened skin under my eye.

It wasn’t enough. I saw the look in her eyes when Baron carved the star into her skin. She was going to break. I had to do something. It’s one thing to extract information and another to send them into shock over something that was out of their control. What happened to the kids in the school wasn’t Helena’s fault and Baron knows that too, even if he won’t admit it.

A black eye is a small price to pay to avoid finding her wrists cut with her own fingernails because of his actions, and Helena is no use to either of us dead. Fury would have both our heads.

The crackles of the electricity stop abruptly and I slink back into the shadows, just as Baron steps out of her cell, wiping the spots of blood from his face as he disappears around the corner.

I flatten my hand against the cracked door. It’s silent—her moans of pain, her cries, the jangling of the chains connected to the wall. They aren’t there.

The door opens with a groan, and the room floods with light. She’s naked, her chains moved from the wall to the ceiling, showcasing every single inch of her body as she dangles there unconscious. She’s deathly thin and her body is covered in bruises, large masses covering her ass and stomach and the light reflects off of the wound on her chest where several lines of the star have reopened.

When I step closer, I can make out the new marks on her body: tiny dots surrounding her body, her chest, her neck.

My eyes fall to the taser wand propped up by the door.

Burns.

I sigh.

“What has he done to you?” I cup her face, rubbing her jaw with my thumb. I can’t stand the way she stands there, chained up and helpless. It’s fucking torture denying myself the need to take her, to fuck her and make her cry for me in a way that Baron never could, if not to piss him off again for touching her like this.

She moans softly when she stirs.

I don’t move. I watch her press into me, leaning into my hand. She wants comfort, to be loved. Even when she fights me, she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t know just how much she needs me, even when her body is telling me so vividly.

Helena’s eyes flutter open, squinting through the sudden light. When her eyes finally focus, she recoils, flinching when I hold her arms to steady her.

“It’s okay. It’s just me.”

“I don’t care.” She coughs, her voice hoarse and dry. “Leave me alone. I told you, I don’t know where the rendezvous is.”

My hand flies over her mouth and I glance back at the open door, listening for Baron’s footsteps.

“Keep your voice down,” I whisper. “He’ll hear you.”

Helena sucks in a breath and her brows push together.

Even with the tunnel’s light, the room is in near perfect darkness. Still, I can feel her eyes on me, and I don’t like the change in her eyes when she sees my face.

“I can’t stay long. He’ll notice this time.”

I turn my head away, but her gaze lingers.

“What happened to you?” She says after a moment.

Baron slammed his pistol into my eye socket, and I’m lucky that I can still see.

“Doesn’t matter.” I reach into the deep pockets of my tacticals, though I don’t miss the way she flinches when I move too quickly.

Her eyes drift to the small bottle of water, and she turns her nose up at it. Even after being starved for three days, this woman manages to make the stupidest decisions, as if I’ve not given her a reason to at least trust me to feed her.

I uncap the bottle.

“Drink.”

“No.”

“It’s just water,” I insist.

Her head snaps back, and the fire is back in her eyes. They’re green—a forest, deeper than the ones surrounding the mine and the anger sets it ablaze with fire.

“I don’t need your pity,” she spits. “I’d rather starve.”

I scoff, grabbing her jaw and wrenching her mouth open.

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck what you want.” I empty the bottle into her mouth. She thrashes against the chains and the water spills before I pinch her lips closed around the plastic. “Drink or drown.”

She moans in discomfort but finally relents. “Good girl.”

I watch her as she struggles to take it all. Streams of the water spill out the corners of her mouth, mixing with the stains of blood and dirt on her pale skin.

I bite down a smile. She’s pretty when she fights, but she’s fucking gorgeous when she obeys. All it takes is a little persuasion. She’ll beg for me. She just doesn’t know it yet.

I pocket the empty bottle. Her chains rattle as her head falls forward, sucking in the air I’d so selfishly deprived her of.

Beautiful.

There’s so many things I’d want to deprive her of, just to hear that pretty six-letter word fall from her lips, but there’s not enough time. Baron will be back soon. He rarely stays in the tunnels for long, nor has he slept since he’s decided to use Helena as his own personal toy.

I silently shut the door, forcing us into momentary darkness. “You’re just as stubborn as John, but at least he knew better than to turn his nose up when he’s offered food.”

I can’t see her, but I can feel that perpetually confused stare, the one she always gives me when I do something or say something that contradicts her ideology of me.

I’ve never mentioned her father before—and with good reason—but I knew it was unavoidable to talk about him when his daughter is our captive. The last time I’d seen him, he was a mass of blood and shattered bone at the bottom of a desert cliff with three holes in his chest and a blank look in his eyes.

I don’t let her answer. That’s a part of my life I’m not ready to relive yet.

I pull on the dangling string, and a dingy light clicks on with a soft hum. It’s not enough to illuminate the room, just enough so I can see the shadows lining Helena’s face.

“It’s not smart to bite the hand that feeds you,” I mutter. “You may be content with killing yourself, but I’d rather keep you alive.”

“Why?” she spits. “So you can torture me longer?”

Her voice is hoarse but clear. Much better than she was when I walked in here. A little water is all it takes to spark that storm inside her, and I can’t say I hate seeing her vicious side, even if she does make stupid decisions.

“I’d hardly call what I did to you torture. You could say thank you.”

She spits in my face.

This fucking woman. She’ll be the death of me if she doesn’t manage to kill herself first.

Helena flinches when I move too suddenly, but I only wipe the spit from my face and slip my clenched fists in my pockets. There’s a tightness in my chest when she flinches again, even though she tries to put up an angry front seconds later.

“I’d rather be Baron’s punching bag than your toy,” she snaps. “Bane is all I have left.”

I can’t figure out what it is just yet; some strange feeling that constricts my throat and I can’t tell if I want to strangle her or fuck her, just to get rid of it, even if she is under Fury’s protection.

I sigh. It would be a shame to waste such a perfect display, especially when Baron strung her up all nice and pretty for me. Helena is a fucking canvas and the scars and bruises that stain her skin are art. I wouldn’t dare waste something Baron took time to make for me, especially one that’s swearing and cursing at me while being chained to the ceiling.

There’s that feeling again. I’ve always kept myself controlled and every single thing this woman does makes it splinter, and God help her if I lose that control.

“That wasn’t a ‘thank you’,” I growl. “Try again.”

She scoffs. “I’m sorry, Castor.” She winces as she lifts her chin up just enough to look me in the eyes and then she smiles with bloody teeth. “Kiss my ass, you fucking psychopath.”

My hand snaps to her throat, gripping it before she even finishes that sentence. A startled gasp leaves her throat and she tenses in such blatant fear that runs straight to my cock. My vision starts to blacken and that familiar hollow feeling takes the place of where that disgusting tightness in my chest had been. She should know not to speak to me that way, especially when I am the one who wants to fucking help her. I could kill her right now and not leave a single trace, tell Baron and Fury she died of shock, or whatever stupid thing they’ll believe because they both will take me at my word long before they take hers.

Then I see a flash in her wide doe eyes; John looking at me the exact same way seconds before he died. Baron’s voice screams in my head, telling me to stop, and then the fuzziness of my mind shuts down just as I see Helena’s eyes start to roll and I realize I hadn’t imagined it.

I release her and her head falls forward, coughing and gasping.

Great. Now I made her voice even worse.

I didn’t bring another water bottle, but I don’t think she’d take it from me, or an apology. Whatever. She should know not to test me; My control is a fucking thread on a knife’s edge with the way she looks at me and goddammit, I fucking hate how she makes me snap just as easily as she can give me that guilt without saying a word. Just like Baron, in a way.

I want to vomit. Fuck her for making me feel like this.

I take a step back, forcing my hands back into my pockets. “Your loyalties are misplaced, doll. That task force of yours is a lie. They’ve killed people.”

She shakes her head, only barely managing to look at me as she rasps, “So have I.”

I pace around her, watching how the muscles of her back clench as she tries to brace herself for my touch. She has two dimples on her lower back and when it arches, it curves in a gorgeous line down her spine until it reaches her perfect little ass.

I blow out a hard breath, but the rush of blood is going straight to my cock instead of my head, and it takes all of my energy not to slam it into her. Fuck, she’d enjoy it too. That pretty pussy is already dripping for me and I can tell by the way her breath hitches when I press my lips into her shoulder.

“I know,” I hum. “I’ve watched you.”

She’s shaking, but I hear just the smallest whimper leave her lips. Her fists are clenched and her chest flushes a bright pink, the same as she was when she killed those contractors in the woods.

Fuck, baby, I feel it too. You want it. You need it, and you’re holding yourself back. You can feel just how painfully I need you.

This woman haunts me. She steals everything that I am, every ounce of self control that I have. She’s toying with herself, trying to convince her body that it’s not dripping for me. She’s afraid of me and that only makes her wetter, and that , I would never apologize for.

She gasps as my lips graze along the curve of her neck, right where my hands had been. I’d bury myself between her legs just to prove how bad of a liar she is, but not yet. Not until she begs.

“Castor…” She parts her lips in a soft moan.

I groan.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” I kiss along her jawline, my hand pressing gently on her stomach to keep her close to me.

She whimpers again and for a moment, I think she might actually give in to me. Then, she presses her legs together and shakes her head. “I don’t know where Bane is.”

I smile to myself. She still thinks this is about him. The rendezvous. She really thinks that all I’m thinking about right now is getting information about Acacia when there is a goddess chained in front of me.

Her naivety is cute and her stubbornness makes me harder. Maybe I’m a masochist after all. She’s still holding on to herself, clinging to that one phrase like it’s a lifeline.

“I don’t think you understand yet.” I pull her closer, and turn her chin until those pretty fearful eyes can see me. “I’m not here for information, Helena.”

My control snaps and my lips crash against hers, holding her tight against my chest even as she tries to pull away. She tastes like heaven—fear and hunger and that sweet taste of her every time I kiss her. I want her to beg for me, but fuck, I need this more. I can’t force myself to be gentle, not this time.

Her lips part just enough for me to slip inside her mouth and coax a muted moan from her lips. She hates it, but she needs it just as badly as I do, even if she doesn’t admit it. She’s a piece of me—the part that’s lurking just under the surface. She’s vicious and desperate and I’ll break down every crack of my little doll until she won’t be able to hide from anyone except herself.

A growl festers deep in my throat when I feel her lips moving against mine and her back arch into me. I can feel my control slipping again and I rip myself from her lips, traversing hungrily down her neck.

I stop when my lips graze the scarring wound on her chest.

“Are you going to be quiet for me this time?” I murmur against her skin, giving her another kiss.

She sucks in a breath, watching me with wide eyes as she battles with the urge to give into me.

She shakes her head.

“Then scream.” I fall to my knees, kissing each of her breasts. “Scream and tell Baron where we both are.”

My eyes lift, watching her tremble as my tongue runs along each of her nipples until they pebble against my mouth. “Tell me what you want, Helena.”

My cock is fucking aching in my pants, straining so hard it’s almost painful, and it only gets worse when she tries to bite down a moan. She’s desperate, but not nearly as desperate as she makes me feel.

“No,” she whispers.

“Then let me.” I grab her ass, pulling her against me until her dripping pussy is inches from my face. “You want me. You want relief from all this pain, and you know I can give it to you, that I want to give it to you. You want to come apart under me until you’re shaking and begging me to stop.”

She’s panting, trembling and trying so hard not to move her hips to get the stimulation I’m offering her. Her restraint is astonishing. She thinks she can control herself better than I can, but she’s vibrating from the effort. It’s killing her inside to stay still, to tell me no. If I’m losing my control around her, then Helena is fucked trying to fight me.

But she does. Again. And again.

My head dips between her legs and I let my tongue fall on her thigh. Iron floods my tongue from her still-healing cuts and I drag my tongue up slowly, chuckling when her thighs tense and nearly trap me between them.

“You’re awfully needy for someone who says they don’t want me.”

She grunts in frustration, and she pushes herself away from me until she’s standing on her tiptoes.

“I don’t.”

I glance up at her.

“No?” I grab the tail of the chain behind her and yank. She yelps as her body topples forward, landing on top of me. Both of my hands find her ass, holding her in place while my face dips between her legs.

Fucking heaven.

“You shouldn’t lie, baby. Lies have consequences, remember?” My tongue slips out, just barely parting the lips of her pussy enough to get a taste of her and I groan.

Not yet.

“One more time, baby.” I pull back so she can see me beneath her. “Tell me what you want.”

She grits her teeth, a frustrated grunt falling from her lips.

“Some peace and quiet,” she bites out.

I scoff.

Goddammit .

My teeth graze along her swollen clit and she whines.

I laugh, before throwing her off me. “Liar.”

My eyes fall onto the taser sitting by the door.

Maybe this woman does have an iron will, but Baron is right.

Everyone breaks.

“I think it’s time for your next lesson, doll.” Grabbing the taser, I move behind her, letting the cool rod rest between her shoulder blades.

Her back arches, her voice heightening to a panicked whine.

“Stop,” she says as she moves against the chains. “Wait, Castor. I’m sorry, okay? I-I won’t lie anymore.”

Sorry? She has no idea just how sorry I can make her.

“Be quiet for me.” She flinches when I move the taser down her spine, but she stays silent. “Good girl. We wouldn’t want Baron walking in on us, would we?”

She throws a venomous glare in my direction, and I bite back a smile.

I step back, grabbing a strand of Helena’s shredded clothes. Baron’s work, no doubt.

“This lesson is about trust.” I wrap the cloth tightly around the end of the taser. “Baron likes pain. It gives him power, makes him feel strong to see other people break. That’s why he uses things like his knife. Like this.”

I wrap my arm around her and I let the length of the taser drift between her legs.

Her head whips to the side, eyes locked on mine in fear. “Castor–”

“Trust me.”

I ignite it.

She yelps and I clamp my hand over her mouth.

“Quiet, now,” I warn her. “I’ll punish you before Baron does and I don’t think his methods would be as fun as mine. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

She whimpers into my hand, her body rocking against mine in a pathetic attempt to move the taser.

I yank her back harder, grinding my cock against her back.

“Would you?”

She shakes her head rapidly, mumbling something indiscernible from under my hand.

“Good girl.”

I slowly release her and ignite it again.

She sucks her lip in between her teeth, muffling her cries.

Again.

The blue light illuminates the dim room, coating her flushed face in a soft hue. Her body ripples when I ignite it, vibrating from the electricity.

I move it back, resting the tip on her clit and ignite it again.

“God!” she cries.

“Not him, baby,” I mumble against her neck. “Me.”

I kiss down her skin and each time I flick on the taser, her body jolts, her breath hitches, but she leans into the taser, seeking it out. She’s hungry for it, greedy. Desperate.

“You still think I’m out here to hurt you.” I ignite it again.

“You call us terrorists.”

Again.

“Devils.”

Again.

“You don’t know who to trust.”

Her body is trembling and her efforts to keep herself upright are completely gone as she leans on me.

I move the taser back. She whines, the chains rattling and pulling while she seeks me out.

Not yet, baby. I’m far from done.

I rip the cloth off of the tip.

Baron has always taken a practical approach to situations. Violence is an easy solution to get what you need but he never thinks outside the box…how a little creativity can enhance things.

I slip the bare metal between her legs, forcing her to ride its edge.

“Tell me what you want, Helena.” I tip up the edge, the taser gently prodding her entrance.

She freezes, and I turn down my head to hide my smile. She tries to push away, that beautiful fear taking hold again.

“Castor, wait. I don’t think–”

“What is this lesson about, Helena?”

Her lip quivers. “Trust.”

I nod.

“I can ignite this and burn you from the inside. Your life is in my hands.” I slide it further, holding her to me. “So who are you going to trust to keep you safe? God? Or me?”

“I–oh god!” I ease the metal rod inside her, slowly. Her legs find their bearings on their own, the muscles tightening as she stifles her moans. I pull it back, watching how easily it glides inside her.

The chains rattle as she starts to writhe again, each of her movements in time with my own. She opens her mouth to speak but it turns into a whimper when I drag it out and back in.

She’s riding the taser, her hips grinding as much as I allow her to. I grab her harder, forcing her to take the pace I’ve set.

“Look at you. I thought you didn’t want this.”

“I don’t. I—” She yelps when my thumb pads over her swollen clit, and I rub it in tandem with the thrusts of the taser.

“Liar.”

She’s crying out and whimpering. Her back arches when I touch her clit in just the right way or when I tilt the taser up in just the right spot to make her want to scream.

Her desperate whine when I slide the taser out of her almost makes me lose control. My cock is fucking painful, hard and pressing up against my zipper at the thought of being buried inside her, giving her a different reason to scream.

She’s not ready for me yet. I want to hear her beg for it when I break her apart.

I replace it with my tongue, dragging up slowly from her needy entrance to her clit.

God,she is an addiction. She’s poison. Every part of me wants to taste every inch of her. To devour her.

I lift her up suddenly and place her legs on my shoulders, and then I lose control.

I latch onto her clit, my tongue thrashing and sucking on the swollen bud. I wrap an arm around her and dive two fingers inside her.

I can hear her hand clamp over her mouth hard as she trembles against my face, helpless to the pleasure I’ll force her to take.

“Castor,” she whimpers. I thrust my fingers inside her, curling up against the spot again. “Fuck! I…I can’t.”

You can baby. I can feel the way your pussy clings to me. Her clit is throbbing against my tongue and I damn near come in my pants from that.

Her body tenses and I add a third finger.

Come on baby. Come for me.

She clamps down hard on my fingers as she screams underneath her hand. I circle her clit gently, slowing my movements but not stopping.

Her body goes limp in my arms and I slowly withdraw my fingers. I hold her against me, flattening my tongue against her clit and she stirs.

“No…no more,” she breathes.

Beg me for it.

Her body twitches and shakes but I’ve found home between her legs and I have no intention of stopping, not when she came so beautifully for me once already.

She yelps when I suck the abused bud in between my teeth.

“Castor, I can’t–”

“Yes you can.” I glance up from between her legs. “You can give me one more.”

She pulls against the chains as I dive between her legs again. Every muscle in her body is tight, and when I suck in her clit again, she finally comes apart.

My hand darts up to her mouth to silence her scream, but it pierces through the air and echoes off the walls.

“That’s my good girl.”

I set her legs back down, but she hardly uses them to keep herself upright.

I pull a key from my pocket and unlock the chains around her wrists. She collapses to her knees in front of me. Her breath comes out in soft pants, blowing the stray strands of hair out of her face.

I move over to a chair resting along the back wall.

This is where he watched her, where he heard her scream and cry. This is where he sat to watch her break.

I sit.

My turn.

She sits back, propping herself on her palms.

“Why?” she breathes.

I lean back, spreading my legs just enough to ease the stiffness of my cock in my pants.

“Because I want you.”

“Not…stupid,” she coughs. She shifts to her feet and her legs wobble and buckle when she tries to stand. “What do you want from me?”

What I want…

I want to break her. I want to hear her beg and whine and show me that vicious girl behind that cracked porcelain skin. I want to rip her apart, not just on my cock. I want to fracture her mind, her body. I want to take every piece of her and shatter it until I can put it back together.

“I told you before, Helena. I want you. All of you.” I lean forward so my elbows rest on my knees. “I want to fuck you until there is nothing in your memory, not your mission, not Baron, not your own fucking name. I want you here on my lap riding me until the only thing that falls from your lips is my name. Until you beg for me.”

She falls silent for a moment and her eyes glaze over, just for a second before she comes back to the moment.

“I can’t beg.”

Can’t. Not won’t. It’s a subtle change, but it’s there.

Interesting.

She can’t beg. That five-letter word is more than pride to her. It matters. She can’t.

And that makes me want it more.

I roll up the cuffs of my jacket. The ends of my tattoos peek out from under the fabric, a tiny chain link on the base of each of my wrists.

I turn my gaze back up to her.

“What did you learn this time, Helena?”

She doesn’t answer, again, conveniently muted by a simple question.

I lean back and shift my hips, her eyes following the movement.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” I groan when her lips part in a wordless answer. But I don’t need one. “Look at the facts, Helena. I’ve done nothing but try to help you. I can do more, but I need you to let me. You can help me too. You can help me escape.”

“I can’t get you out of here, Castor,” she says.

I slide my hand over my hips, massaging the throbbing bulge in my pants. “There’s more than one way to escape.” I groan when I rip down my zipper and pull my cock free.

Helena lets out a soft gasp and her eyes widen.

I told her I would break her. I can force that little plea from her lips, but I want to save it. She’s going to give it to me. Willingly.

I tilt my head back and a low moan rumbles in my chest as I stroke it softly. I don’t need to see her to know she’s watching me, that her eyes are locked on every movement. I want her to watch, so she knows exactly what she’s in for when she breaks for me.

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer, or rather, she’s too scared to. Too scared to admit how badly she wants me. Satisfaction settles in my chest along with the pleasure coursing through me.

“I can’t hear you, doll,” I muse to her.

I can hear her sharp intake of breath when a bead of precum comes out and drips down my hand. Her teeth play with her lip, chewing and sucking on it in thought before her voice comes out, shaky and unsure.

“No.”

I chuckle—a sound that makes her flinch.

“Wrong answer.” I bolt up and towards her, and my hand is around her throat, pulling her to her feet. I grip the sides, gently of course. I’d hate to make her pass out before I’ve had a chance to play with her the way I know she wants me to.

I guide her to the chair, all the while she’s stumbling in a half crawl until she’s in front of the chair. I sit in it and release my grip on her to return my attention back to my cock.

Her resistance is cute, in a way. I don’t force her to watch. I don’t force her to stay on her knees, inches from my cock as I move my hand down my cock, and I definitely don’t force her to lean in closer every time I moan, but she is. By the time my other hand tangles in her tangled blonde hair, she’s so close, her breath blows softly on my shaft, adding an already building pleasure that’s drawing up way too quickly.

My control almost snaps and I stop suddenly, whipping her head back. I suck in a breath until the feeling passes. There’s no point in coming if it’s not down her throat.

“Is this what you want?” I pull her back in, closer.

She gasps, her eyes darting up to me in fear.

Her breaths shift and I notice the way her body tenses when I adjust my hips on the chair. It’s not the first time a woman has looked at me that way. It’s tempting. So very tempting to pick her up and make her ride me.

But not yet.

“Not today, doll. You’re not ready for me yet.” I press my cock against her lips, smearing my precum on her like lipstick. “Deep breath, baby.”

I give her a single warning. One notice that makes her draw in the tiniest breath before I shove myself in deep, diving straight into her throat with a single thrust. Her hands fly to my thighs, digging her nails in as throat constricts and contracts.

“Fuck.” I groan. “Easy, baby. I’m not even all the way in yet.”

She moans in protest and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

I hold myself still until the bounding heartbeat in the head dulls before I pull back. She sucks in air before I thrust myself back inside. Her throat tightens again. I can barely control myself. Her throat is a fucking vise, gripping my cock harder than my hand ever could.

I cup her cheek, wiping away the tears that start to fall.

“Come on, baby. You can take it. Let me into that pretty throat of yours.”

Her eyes roll back, a soft relented moan vibrating my cock. I follow when her throat gives in and I slide in deeper. I pull myself out, giving her another moment of reprieve and start a slow pace.

“That’s it baby,” I moan. “Take all of me. You’re doing so well.”

My grip on her head tightens and when she moans again, I lose control again for a moment, forcing her head down hard. She moans in surprise and I try hard to keep my own control until I see one of her hands disappear between her legs.

I snap and my grasp on her head turns into a death grip. I buck against her face, fucking her face hard and deep.

I growl in pleasure.

“Fuck, look at you, rubbing your clit while you choke on my cock.”

She moans in response and her hand moves faster.

“That’s it, doll, moan for me. Take what you need from me.”

I’d completely lost myself in her throat. My balls draw up painfully and my thrusts are becoming erratic just listening to her moan and shake while she drives herself to another orgasm.

But then her tongue slides up the underside of my shaft and she pulls back just long enough to suck on the tip and I lose it.

I shove her head in deep with a shuddering groan and empty myself into her. My legs tense and shake as my cum shoots down her throat. I don’t need to ask. She sucks me down, swallowing eagerly until I finally let go.

She falls back to her knees, panting and coughing. Stray pieces of her hair are stuck to her face, framing her angular features and her hazel eyes.

I tuck myself back into my pants and brush the stray hairs from her face.

“You did so well,” I whisper.

She flinches from my touch. I let her, watching silently as she creates distance between us.

She sits in silence, her knees tucked into her chest to give herself some modesty. There is a question in her head, one that she’s too afraid to ask. It doesn’t take much for me to know what she wanted to ask, and I’m not sure I want to answer either.

“What happened?” She asks after a beat.

I turn away from her, my voice dropping.

“Is it hard to believe that I might be a prisoner too?” My head dips. The words are sour on my tongue, but if she wants an answer, I’ll give her one. “Baron only cares about killing Bane. He doesn’t form personal attachments. He doesn’t care about you or me.”

“Then leave,” she says.

I laugh.

Leave. It’s that easy, isn’t it? If you’re facing a killer who could track you in a matter of days, all you’d need to do is decide you want out and wave goodbye and expect that there wouldn’t be a knife in your back before you made it out the door?

John had tried to leave. Years ago, he knew that he couldn’t stay. He knew killing was wrong. He couldn’t face the Codex. He ran and tried desperately to recruit people to aid people in his escape. Even all his efforts to protect himself and his 20-year old daughter all culminated in being buried in a sandstorm.

It’s never easy.

“I think you of all people would know that it isn’t that simple. Your dad was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did.” I pause, turning to face her. “I don’t want to see his only child die the same way.”

Her jaw tenses to stop the tremble, but a tear slides down her cheek just as she turns her head away.

I take a tentative step towards her, waiting for her to fight me but she doesn’t. I crouch in front of her.

“Let me help you, Helena.” I wipe her tear away with my thumb. “I can keep you safe.”

Her eyes meet mine, soft and searching. She wants it. I want it too. She needs the escape as much as I do, but I can’t protect her from Baron. Not if she doesn’t let me.

I plead with my eyes. I want her desperately to trust me and open to me, but just as the many times before, she turns away, shattering the offer with a single glance.

She gets up silently, her legs shaking and a slight limp from the burns on cuts dominating one side. She stands underneath the dangling ceiling chains and raises her arms. Her eyes are sad. Defeated. But she still refuses to let me in.

I clasp the chains around her wrists, a dead silence around us.

“It was an accident, you know. Your father. I didn’t want him to get hurt. He wouldn’t want you to either.”

Her eyes don’t meet mine this time. She sinks down into the chains, leaving herself just as broken and lifeless as she was when I found her.

I try to come up with some way to get her to change her mind, to allow me to help her, but her head lowers and she stills. Her hope died in that room and her eyes are just as empty as her father’s when I last found her.

I can’t help her. She’s a ghost now, and she still haunts me.