Page 12 of Savage Poet

His laugh cackled like dried leaves in the wind on all Hollow’s Eve. “You might wish that’s what I’m asking for when I’m done with you.”

He motioned for me to follow him out of the study. “Reggie!” One of the Castellione men came briskly. “Take him to the pit.”

I followed numbly. My pain was so severe I’d gone numb. My mind began to separate from my body.

The man led me through the house and out a backdoor to a barn. “Take off your clothes and get in.” He lifted a trap door on the barn floor revealing a dark, dank hole.

I did as he said. A monster can’t be afraid of the dark, so I got in like I gave zero fucks about my disfigured flesh or new home.

The door banged shut taking all light with it. The deadbolt slid into place. I was buried alive. No air. No light. Nothing but blackness enveloped me. I was in the womb of the earth. She must decide what to do with me. Curled up into a ball, I used my body to heat itself. Somehow sleep came.

I lost all sense of time. Cramped in the hole, I shifted as much as I could to relieve myself.

The smell of my putridness wasn’t lost on me. In and out of consciousness, I grasped onto anything to stay sane. Constantine wouldn’t break me. I knew if he did, they’d bury me here.

My mind clung to the last pure thing.Her.Little Red with her pale as snow skin, hair on fire, and eyes the color of wet moss on a forest floor. Her hair smelled of honey and roses, her skin felt smooth; untouched. Despite my rancid conditions, I felt myself swell and harden in the dark. For her. The girl I brought to the brink of death only to bring her back. For the girl who’s barely a teen. For the woman she’ll one day be if I ever find her.

I gripped my shaft, pumping a few times into my hand then pulling from root to tip. She kept me from insanity. I fantasized about being the first man to touch her, kiss her—taste those sweet budding breasts. My hand quickened. I squeezed my eyes shut even though I couldn’t see anything anyway. What was left of me was hers—the little spitfire who taunted me to be a man. She knew I wasn’t. She saw straight through me while everyone else believed the façade. “Fuck, Little Red,” I muttered hoarsely as I came all over myself in the pit. I was in hell already, there was no use feeling shame for thinking about her this way.

Shaking from the aftershocks of my release, I realized I was burning up. Infection must’ve set in. I was a dead man either way.

I drifted in and out of consciousness for some time. A loud smack came from the distance. I clung to that sound. Trapped in the dark not wanting to let it go; the need to fight somehow, to survive become stronger despite my weakened state.

Suddenly the trapdoor to the pit swung up.

My scream brought me fully back. I was blind. I couldn’t see. The light was too much. I raised my hand blocking it out. I was dragged up and carried somewhere. I felt the pinch of a needle and then nothing… I faded back to black.

* * *

“The Fiorelli girl escaped Italy.Slipped out like a ghost. But if our men don’t find her you will.”

I turned my head from my place on the floor. He saved me. Barley. Constantine had the best doctors cut out my rotting flesh, pump me full of IV’s and antibiotics but he saved me to be his stray pet. I slept on the bare floor. On a threadbare blanket with a dog bed for a pillow. Even through the days and hours when I almost died from hypothermia and infection, I stayed on the floor.

I hide my elation behind my lifeless eyes. My heart still beat but I was still more of a dead man. At least everything inside me felt that way.

He broke me that week in the pit. I lost my humanity. I wanted her to live, just because for some reason it’s important to him that she doesn’t.

He kicked me swiftly in the ribs. The toe of his steel-tipped boot would’ve cracked a rib if it had more power behind it. The bastard could move his legs. That piece of valuable information I wouldn’t forget.

“Get up. Your training begins today.” I followed him to a large bathroom. Hanging up is a custom-made Italian suit. I showered like I’ve never felt hot running water on my skin. I winced when it hits the bandages on my back. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I stopped short at the woman standing inside my room.

She fidgeted nervously. “I’m Camilla. Here to change your bandages.” She was young, slim, and nervous.

I’m a demon spawn. Dead. A dick.

My towel dropped and I walked toward her with my huge erection in front of me. “I have something more urgent that needs attending to.”

I was stuck in the earth and lived on a floor. Seeing her down on her knees sucking my dick reminded me that I was still a king. I might be poor and nobody now, but my legacy still lived.

I smirked as she took the head of me into her mouth, rolling her tongue along my thick rim.

She knew who I was. Wanted me even though I was still more boy than man. “That’s it, bella. Someday you can say you slept with a God. Everyone will know who I am. Roque Salvatore will be a legend.”

She couldn’t respond since my hand had taken her by the back of her head. I pumped my hips into her mouth, coming hard. I smiled. Whistling, I let her dress my wounds after she cleaned herself up.

“What?” I barked as she hovered just inside the door.

She bit her lip. A faint blush stained her cheeks. “Oh that? Sorry, baby, but I’m saving myself for marriage.” I deadpanned and continued getting dressed.

---