“If it’s all right with you, may I stay?” I whispered the words, hating how they tasted on my tongue.
Gideon gave a sharp intake of breath, not responding for a second. Then slowly, his hand slid down stopping briefly over the scars that had not been there last time, then he curved it to my waist and pressing my body to his. His other hand came to my chin, tilting my face so I could look at him.
“I know you are up to something, Petal, and you’re using me… The thing is I don’t fucking care. So this is me giving you permission to fucking kill me, love.”
Guilt wasn’t an emotion I felt often, and right now, it was crushing me. Bravery and deception—now those two I knew how to do, so I did them now.
“The first time we met, you didn’t surprise me. I had heard your footsteps before you made it to the room. At any given moment, I could have escaped. I didn’t need to stay with you, but something in me wanted to stay.” The admission flowed smoothly. My heart was trying to stop me from making a mistake, but my mind was made up years ago, and one man wasn’t going to change that.
“Through my darkest times, there’s been revenge, and then there’s been you.”
The words had barely left my lips before Gideon was on top of me. His hand was at my throat, his hardness rubbing my leg.
“All I’m getting from this, Petal, is that you’d been mine for a fucking long time.”
Staring into his eyes, it killed me to answer. “You once forced me to make a vow in blood.” I brought palm up, the one he had cut a long time ago. He didn’t stop staring at me, but he licked the scar. “I’ve kept that vow.”
“Fuck,” he groaned as he slid into me.
My legs wrapped around his waist, my hands holding on to his strong shoulders. In one fluid movement, Gideon moved us so I was on top. My hands now rested on his chest as I started to move my hips.
“I’m torn between tearing your pussy or worshiping it,” he confessed. “Now, fuck me.”
So I did. I forced myself to look into his eyes, knowing this was set to kill me one day. Knowing that if he died, I would have to live with this regret for the rest of my life.
To understand how I got to this place, we need to go back to the beginning, back to the unlucky moment Gideon and I crossed paths. It’s not pretty, nor a fairy tale. It’s a nightmare with pain and deception, but the thing about beauty is that it can be found anywhere, you just have to change your perspective. And mine was twisted and mangled. I saw the beauty in him.
I moaned when I rocked my hips.
“Shut the fuck up before I gag you again,” Gideon hissed. I loved that my pleasure was only for him.
I bent to kiss his lips, my hands coming to his cheeks. He was handsome, he looked refined, but there was a madness to him that I loved.
“Tear me up, mark me, make it so I never forget,” I whispered against his lips.
I permitted him to kill me before I did the same to him.
Past
I have gunpowder in my chest instead of a heart now,
And it escapes my lips shaped like a bullet
With your name on it.
Soft people become dangerous
When you destroy the things they hold dearest.
Gunpowder, Nikita Gill
Three Years Ago
Location: Chicago
The world was full of monsters; you just had to know where to look for them. We didn’t hide in the shadows; we didn’t always lurk in the dark. We hid in plain sight, at bars, clubs, behind suits and fake smiles.
Officially, I was on a business trip from the organization I worked for. Unofficially, I was looking for a lost artifact. I smiled at the bartender, tilted my head to the side, and gave him a coy smile. He lapped it up. In my experience, all men were the same. All they cared about was your name, your age, or what sign you were. All they wanted to know was if you sucked dick or would lie back and spread your legs, and if he didn’t, then he was probably gay. There were no good men left in the world. Not saying that there weren’t any good women left, I just wasn’t one of them.
“What can I get you, gorgeous?” he asked, giving me a flirty smile.
I didn’t bother with dresses, nor showing my cleavage. Men fell at my feet either way. People said confidence spoke volumes, and maybe it did. I grabbed the cherry from the fruity drink I’d ordered and barely sipped. I opened my mouth and put the cherry in, watching the way his dark eyes followed my every move. I twirled the stem with my tongue, then opened my mouth, showing him the tied knot that was on my tongue.
His eyes burned with lust.
This was way too easy. The hard part was coming, so I got up from my seat, inching closer to him so he could hear me better. “Five hundred.”
“Sweetheart, whatever you want, I’ll do it for free.”
Internally I rolled my eyes, but my smile stayed as fake as his veneers. “I want to go to the lower level.”
His smile stopped.
Ah, there it was. So the lower level was here. Sometimes I surprised even myself. I was a wanderer in the world, not having a moral compass, no set north. Russia was what I called home whenever I got the chance, but Damian kept me all over the world. People thought the world was so vast that it would take a lifetime to explore it, but in reality, it was small, especially the hellish parts.
“One thousand.” The smile dropped from my lips, getting tired of the charade. “If I were you, I would take it before I get in there one way or another, so what’s it going to take—some quick cash, or watch me barge in, wishing you were a little bit richer?”
He swallowed and gave me a quick nod. I dropped all pretenses of being something I wasn’t. I got off the stool and handed him the cash.
“Go down the hall, turn into the door that says Faculty, then take the left door, and knock.”
I didn’t say thank you for nothing pleasant was about to happen. I followed the directions the guy gave me and made my way to the real reason why this bar was getting funded.
It wasn’t the drinks or the ambience; it was the sex club that hid underneath. Sex clubs were a dime in a dozen once you knew where to look. This one, in particular, offered something a little more exclusive. All the women and men had been trafficked. Nothing said gold mine like having a bite of something you shouldn’t want. Putting my hand out, I knocked on the door. My hand came to my pendant, and I said a quick prayer hoping I wouldn’t die today. I made a vow, and I would go to hell the day I saw it fulfilled and not a moment before.
The door opened, and I flashed the guard a smile. “I need a toy for the night, preferably one who can’t talk.”
My eyes stayed on his, unwavering as he looked me up and down. My tight black clothes served to my advantage. I looked more like a dominatrix than a bimbo.
Damian hated it; he would parade me around naked if he could. He wanted me to get everything on my back rather than by the bullet and switchblades.
“Madame.” The guard gave me a small bow and stepped aside.
There was no need to square my shoulders, since I never dropped them. My head was held high and my senses on alert. When you lived in a fucked-up world, evil didn’t scare you.
The room was dark with a yellow ambience, the smell of smoke thick and the music soothing. My eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, and I scanned my surroundings as discreetly as possible. Sex clubs weren’t “walk in and join our orgy”; they were so much more sophisticated than the men that ran them, respectable businessmen, the people who attended them monsters in socialite clothing.