Page 41 of Yours to Break

I gasped, “Oh my god. What the fuck? How is she not in prison?”

“Not enough evidence, they say,” Hudson said sarcastically.

“Does that make you feel better, little one?” Hayes asked, leading me to a folding chair along the wall. Sitting down, he spread his thighs wide, signaling for me to sit on the floor between them. It was muscle memory by this point to automatically sit at their feet. He ran his fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp gently.

“Y-yeah, I think,” I conceded. “I don’t want to watch, though. Can’t I go back upstairs? Please?”

“No,” Hayes answered simply, making me huff in frustration.

A muffled scream pulled my attention back to the woman in the chair. Hudson had started. He held a surgical blade, wet with the blood it had drawn from slicing into Beverly’s left calf.

I hardened my jaw, determined to get through this without breaking down or vomiting. I watched silently as he made three additional cuts, resulting in a bleeding rectangle. What was he doing?

Oh.

Ohh.

Hudson’s face was emotionless as he carefully removed the rectangular chunk of skin from the leg. Beverly’s face was ghostly pale, a stark contrast to the deep crimson flowing from her. I wondered how she hadn’t lost her voice yet from screaming so much.

Once he had finished carving the piece completely off, he stood from where he was kneeling beside her shiny black heels. He held the skin in the palm of his hand and examined it.

To Beverly’s horror, Hudson slapped the skin onto her cheek, raw side down. The corner of his mouth tipped up ever so slightly as he watched her wildly shake her head in an attempt to get it off.

Jesus.

I was somehow both disgusted and entranced. I nuzzled into Hayes’s leg, seeking his warmth and comfort. Still, I didn’t hide my face. My eyes were glued to the scene in front of me.

Hudson’s fist collided with Beverly’s jaw, causing her head to fly back violently. Not giving her even a second to recover from his first hit, he landed a hard jab to her abdomen. Her body jerked backwards, practically convulsing.

Hudson, still holding the scalpel, gripped the top of her head and plunged the blade into the side of her neck, hitting the carotid artery.

Blood gushed from the wound, painting Hudson’s arm and shirt red.

Then, for the second time in my life, I witnessed the light extinguishing in someone’s eyes.

As Beverly’s body went limp, Hudson slowly turned our way; his sights set on me. I huddled closer to Hayes, unsure of what to do.

Hayes’s hand, which I had just realized had been petting me the whole time, tensed in my hair.

“Hudson,” he growled.

“Hayes,” said Hudson, continuing his prowl forward.

“Lose the knife or I’ll use it to gut you,” Hayes snarled from above me.

“I just want a taste. Just a drop. That bitch’s blood got in my mouth,” Hudson spat. Lowering his gaze from his brother to me again, he coaxed, “You wouldn’t deny me, would you, pet? Hayes already got to taste it that first night. Why can’t I? I’d just make a tiny little nick. Just like a paper-cut.”

I shivered, voice wavering with uncertainty, “You… You want to taste my b-blood?” Hudson’s face switched quickly from wolfish to sincere.

He purred, “Mhm. Just a little lick. Don’t you want to be good for me?” My brows furrowed.

“Hudson,” Hayes snapped. “You’re pushing it.” Hudson ignored him, focused solely on me.

“I can feel it. Your need. The conflict constantly raging in your head. Isn’t it hard? I just want to help you, pet. You’re so fuckingclose, Oliver,” he said seductively, dropping to his knees in front of me. He leaned in close, wrapping his hand loosely around my throat, whispering, “Give in.”

I whimpered.

Hudson watched me with a mix of lust and something darker, something that pulled at me like gravity itself. For one breathless second, I faltered, my rational mind screaming at me.

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