Page 8 of The Devil's Redemption

“I’ll make the call. We’ll convene in four hours in Gettysburg.”

“Wait,” Boy Scout pipes up. Everyone turns to face him. “I think I know some people who may want to help.”

“Call them. If they’re in, tell them to meet us at Devil’s Den. Ten o’clock. Meanwhile, I’ve got my own call to make. Adjourned.”

As Stone leaves the den, I turn to the Boy Scout.

“Who are you calling? I’m not letting just anybody waltz in there and get Sasha and the rest of us killed.”

“Some of my brothers in the guard. We live by a code, too.”

My level of respect for him just rose by a fraction of an inch. I nod toward him, and he pulls out his cell phone.

I watch him as he makes several calls, asking his own brothers if they want to “go to the range.” Apparently, that’s code for kill a bunch of motherfuckers. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to wait for four hours to meet up with the other charters. And God only knows how long after that we’ll actually strike.

For the second time in too short of a period, I send up a prayer to a God I haven’t believed in for a long time to keep watch over someone I love.

Chapter Three

The image of Blade fades from my mind too quickly as I feel myself coming to. I wasn’t out for long because when my eyes open again, I’m still being held down by the four of them. I begin to fight against their hold again.

“That was beautiful, princess. You’re going to be much more fun to break than your brother was.”

There it is again… Past tense.

“Where is Michael?” I ask, my voice thick with anger and disgust.

I’m struggling with my feelings where he’s concerned. I’m worried, but I’m also furious that he’s gotten both of us tangled in this vicious and disgusting web.

“Well, once we got the information that we needed from him, he no longer served a purpose,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry though, he died in the clutches of the one thing he loved most in this world. Above even you, princess.”

I don’t understand what he’s talking about at first, but then it hits me.

“You motherfucker,” I cry, my body growing limp beneath them.

“We pumped him full of enough H to kill a horse. His death was poetic, if you really think about it.”

Then Jasper scoots his body backward and places his hands on my inner thighs, pushing my legs even wider still.

“I wish you could see the way you’re glistening, princess.” His eyes lose focus as though he’s being hypnotized.

The misery of this entire situation coupled with the news of Michael, is almost too much to take.

“So alluring,” he pants before his tongue enters me.

I scream and fight against the four of them, trying desperately to force Jasper’s tongue out of my body, but he wraps his arms around my thighs so tightly I can barely move. Capturing my clit in his mouth, he sucks on the bundle of nerves until I’m writhing beneath him. Full of lust, self-loathing, desire, disgust.

My tears fall faster and bile collects in my throat again as another orgasm rips through me. I scream through my release, hating myself for losing control.

When he finally releases my clit and sits up, I can see my arousal all over his face. I have to look away from him.

I detest myself. It goes far beyond hatred at this point.

He taps his fingers along my inner thigh before he continues.

“I’m going to let go of your leg for a second, princess. I wouldn’t try to put up a fight again. Trixie can be quite vicious for such a small female. She went easy on you before.”

I barely register what he’s saying. My sorrow keeps me weighted against the mattress more than they do now. When Jasper stands up, I move my leg only so it meets my other one, closing them.

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