Page 43 of The Invite (The Massacre Ball #1)

Nessa

Ace believes my excuse when I tell him I better stay at my place in case the detectives reach out to me.

When the truth is, I don’t want to put him in danger and get in the crosshairs of either Augustus or Anonymous.

As soon as I come home, I google the extra security measures I can take to protect myself against trespassers. The list suggests everything from electric fences to motion sensors. I am gobsmacked at how advanced this market has become with so many options that my head spins.

I immediately call the guy who recently changed my locks and ask him to help me choose the best one. Except in my hurry, I don’t notice that both cost a fortune. He hears the disappointment in my voice and says he’ll come to look at my place to come up with a budget-friendly solution.

Hans probably thinks I’m going overboard or that I’m one of those paranoid freaks who worries aliens will attack us. A survivalist with a secret bunker. But if he went through the shit that I’ve gone through since stepping foot in this godforsaken town, he’ll understand my predicament.

It’s eleven in the morning when the doorbell rings. I put aside the cereal box I’m about to pour into the bowl of milk and make my way to greet Hans.

He’s here early.

When I open my door, it’s not Hans standing on my porch.

“Shouldn’t you be resting in your coffin?” I glare at Augustus, looking dapper in a forest green shirt with a crew neck and dark cargo pants.

He replies dryly, “I’m not a vampire.”

“You’re a stalker, which is worse because I can’t drive a wooden stake in your heart and be rid of you once and for all.”

“Use a knife. You love those.”

“Nobody has time to clean up the mess.” His lips twitch, infuriating me even more.

His departure last night was so rude and incredibly insensitive for how it made me feel. Under his sinful touch, I forgot the disastrous day and the impending doom waiting for us. Then he had to go ahead and make it worse by treating me like a cheap toy.

In all the times we’ve been together, he didn’t leave wearing an expression that said he touched something bad. Or without tucking me in bed, which is stupid to think of as sweet, and it’s a minute gesture compared to the rest of the deviant acts he does.

Yet last night, I had to hold back tears.

So, his coming here today without an iota of remorse is a punch in the gut.

I refuse to show he’s affecting me, and retort, “I think you’re a few hours early. It’s still daytime, Mr. Grayson.”

“Let me in.”

“Sorry, my shift as a whore doesn’t start until midnight,” I say with a flutter of my eyelashes. “Didn’t my pimp tell you?”

Having enough of my attitude, he lifts me off the ground with an arm around my waist. Strolling into my house, he shuts the door behind him.

I don’t fight him and hang my hands limply at my sides.

He wants a fuck toy, he will get one.

“So, you do know how to knock and use the front door?” I’m too furious to bite my tongue, and taunt, “Did you lose your magical ability to walk through walls? Did your secret entrance get shut?”

Dumping me on the couch unceremoniously, he says, “I’m taking it you’re not a morning person.”

“Let’s just get it over with.” I stand up and start ripping my clothes off one by one. Augustus freezes and I arch a brow as I whip off my shirt and throw it away. “Where do you want me? On my knees? On my back?”

“I’m not here to fuck you, Nessa.”

“That would be a first.” I laugh sardonically and unclasp my bra. I have to commend his tightly leashed control when his gaze doesn’t waver from my face.

“Put your clothes back on,” he commands.

“No, tell me, Augustus.” I push down my shorts and panties until I’m stark naked. “Which hole do you want to fuck first? Should I run so you can chase me until your cock gets hard?”

“Stop.” Darkness storms in his cold gaze.

“Why don’t you invite Maverick too?” I suggest. “He’s pissed at me too for his suspension. How about I suck his dick and make it up to him? You can watch and be proud of training your whore well.”

Augustus’s expression descends to a chilling degree and he takes a step forward.

But I’m not scared anymore.

A muscle tics in his jaw as he warns, “Don’t utter another word, Nessa.”

“I have an even better idea.” The dam has broken and I can’t stop. “The three of us should go back to the woods. You can tie me to the tree and fuck me toge—”

The sentence is left unfinished as I get yanked into a steely embrace. Fingers curl around my throat and soft lips brush against mine as Augustus growls, “You’re mine.”

“I’m your whore,” I yell, shoving him away. Something cracks inside me. The sound of it only I hear. “Isn’t this what you wanted? My complete submission. I’m just trying to please you.”

“This isn’t pleasing me,” he rumbles, a conflicted emotion crossing his features. Like he can’t make sense of why my anger and despair are affecting him and he’s hating every minute of it.

“Then what do you want?” I screech, pounding my fist against his chest. Tears sting my eyes as he takes my beating silently. “Just tell me and get out of my life. I’m right where you wanted me, or do you want to break me some more? End this game and put me out of my misery.”

Grasping his hands, I place them over my nude body, but they remain cold and unmoving. “Take what you came here for, Augustus. Finish what you started.”

“No.”

The tether keeping me together snaps and I break into pieces.

I can’t get more pathetic than this. Being forced to shatter and crumble in front of an unfeeling monster who is hell-bent on tormenting me.

Like I haven’t suffered enough.

“I don’t get it,” I whisper brokenly. “At least with Anonymous, I know what he’s after. But you? What is it that you want? Just tell me, Augustus.”

“You,” he says in a heartbeat.

One word and I realize with crystal clarity that Augustus will never let me go.

The toll of the admission and everything else exceeds the last of my strength and my weight gives out. I never touch the ground as those cold hands become my balm and don’t let me fall. They gather me up so gently like I’m made of glass.

“I hate you,” I sob, my vision blurring like I’m peering through rainfall.

He tucks my face in the crook of his neck, murmuring, “I deserve it.”

“I’m so sick of you.” I still clutch him like a raft. I’m just so tired of taking care of myself that I’m turning to the one person I should be running from.

“I know,” he whispers, moving us somewhere.

“You treat me the worst.” Loud sobs turn to low hiccups while I shake uncontrollably. I feel him climb the stairs. “You can’t use my body and leave like I’m nothing but a whore you picked from the street.”

“I’ll never leave you again,” he utters like a vow, and caresses my spine.

“I’m not a toy. Not yours or Anonymous’s. I’ll never be a toy for anyone to break or torment.” Never again .

“Anonymous isn’t coming anywhere near you, let alone touching a single hair on your head.” His tone is deadly as tension steels his muscles. “He’ll have to go through me first.”

“I can protect myself.” I always do .

Just not from Augustus, it seems .

“I don’t doubt you, little prey. But you won’t do it alone.” I hear ruffling before my back meets the sheets as he lays me down in my bedroom. Looming over me, he grazes my cheek and stares into my tear-filled eyes intensely. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

“But who’s going to protect me from you?”

He doesn’t answer that—it should scare me—and sinks us onto the bed.

Laying sideways, I’m pulled against his chest, and the blanket envelops us.

Pitch-black eyes that reek of sinister intentions soften for the first time, causing my heart to hitch at the magical sight because I never thought that to be possible.

As unbelievable as a glimpse of a rainbow amidst a storm.

Rough fingers brush the lingering tears away from my cheeks before drifting to my waist to hold me closer.

“I told you this before and I’ll repeat it.

Your anger, your frustration, your hatred, you take it out on me.

Be furious, yell, and hit me as many times as you want, I’ll happily endure it,” he says in a low and firm tone before hardening his gaze.

“But I won’t tolerate you disrespecting your body the way you did downstairs. ”

“How is it any different than what you do to me each night you visit?”

“I worship you, Nessa.” His voice is a raspy growl, eyes turning molten. “Even when I degrade you, I worship and marvel over every inch of you. Be it your sharp tongue or your gorgeous body. I’m mesmerized by everything about you. It’s why I can’t stay away.”

He finds me mesmerizing?

My pulse begins to race at his praise. Nobody has complimented me so unabashedly.

I search for lies on his face but there’s no ounce of insincerity on his features.

Goosebumps rise on my skin as he trails his palm up the curve of my hips to my side and seals it around my throat, tightening possessively.

“I won’t deny my desires are warped, dangerous, and immoral.

Until I met you, I kept them on a leash.

Now, they’re unshackled and breathe a life of their own.

Your sweet submission has poured gasoline over them, making them darker and insatiable.

They should scare you. But it’s who I am.

Just like you have no control over craving them and coming undone.

I don’t either. The only difference is I own it while you run from it. ”

His words make me feel vulnerable and bare to the bones even though I’m lying naked in his arms. Yet he rips off another layer. His admission isn’t reassuring or soft, meant to put me at ease.

It’s unapologetically him.

Raw, intense, and dripping with wicked promises.

And he’s right. I should be terrified. I should be kicking him out, not that he’d leave. Instead, I’m intrigued and burning to experience his sadism. However, I won’t do it at the expense of being treated like dirt.

“You ran yesterday,” I accuse him, balling my fingers into a fist to not let the hurt show.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“I don’t do feelings, Nessa.”

“Because they’re messy?”

His jaw tightens as though the reason maddens him. “Because I’ve never had them. The little I felt died a long time ago.”

My stomach knots. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s more working underneath him but he doesn’t say it out loud, leaving me to wonder what it is.

Thrumming his fingers against my pounding pulse, he rasps, “Cruel irony I’d become fascinated with a girl who wears hers on her sleeves. I can read you like a book.”

I believe him. It’s the one thing I haven’t been able to change about myself, not for lack of trying. “What am I thinking right now?”

“Wondering what made me this way and hurting for me.” His palm slides lower to rest in the middle of my chest over the wildly beating organ that resides there. “Because you also have a big heart, which I can’t decide if it’s your weakness or a strength.”

“The world is filled with enough black-hearted people trying to crush the souls of those around them, I don’t want to be one of them.”

A dark cloud full of rage appears in his coal-black eyes. Proving he can not only read me like a book but peer straight into my broken soul, he demands, “Who tried to crush yours?”

“Nobody,” I lie. His lips purse admonishingly. I reluctantly mumble, “They didn’t succeed.”

I sigh in relief when he drops the topic.

Turning my body away, he spoons me with my back to his front.

His breath gusts like a warm caress against my neck.

Closing my eyes, I curl my palm around that is resting between my breasts and welcome the sleep I missed last night.

Before I can fall into a peaceful slumber, Augustus’s husky tone jolts me. “And, Nessa?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m far from pushing you to your limits.”