Page 23 of Our Little Dove

I step closer to her, trailing my fingers from her cheek, down her body, and then reaching into the nightstand drawer beside the bed. I pull out another knife and slice her arm before she can process my swift movements. “You belong to us now, baby. We marked you, and you’ll never be rid of us,” I lean close and whisper in her ear as I grip tightly over her beautiful bleeding skin.

As if enjoying the feeling, she closes her eyes, and a soft sound escapes her lips as I squeeze her flesh harder. The feeling of her warm blood coating my palm causes my heart to beat faster.

Looks like she really is as sick and twisted as we are. She loves this. I’m loving this. Fuck, this girl is incredible. I hate that we have to stop this.

As if reading my thoughts from his position on the large bed, Fintan starts, “Sorry, little Dove. It’s time youtryto fly back to your normal life, but not before we clip your wings,” he growls in a menacing tone as he steps up behind her.

I watch her as her eyes widen before she spins around, clearly confused by his words. I look at him and he gives me a quick nod, signaling that this game of ours has reached its inevitable end. It’s time to do what we came here to do.

Without warning, I grab her from behind, holding her tightly against my chest as Fintan moves closer with the rag clasped in his hand.

“Fuck! No, no, no! Please! Don’t do this!” she cries and thrashes in my hold as he shoves the rag in her face, holding it firmly over her nose and mouth, waiting for the chloroform to do its thing.

Within seconds, her fighting and muffled screams fade into silence, and she slumps in my hold.

Saturday, 4:15 AM

Kieran picks her up and carries her over to the metal table opposite the bed. Placing her limp body down, I notice an almost wistful look in his eyes.

“You okay there, brother?” I ask while adjusting the cameras to focus only on the table and turn on the overhead light to ensure the clients have a grand view.

“Yeah,” he exhales a heavy breath and prepares the scene before continuing, “why don’t we just use the footage from earlier? Wasn’t that your plan? Why go through all this trouble if we are just going to make new content? Am I missing something?”

His questions cause me to stop dead in my tracks and I drop my head on a deep sigh.

Does he feel the way I do? Does he feel bad for her?

“We didn’t exactly do what the clients asked for, so I’d like to make the content we’re paid to make… I-I thought we could keep the footage from the last few hours just for us.”

His brows knit together as he turns to face me. “Don’t you think she’s been through enough?” My heart races at the intensity of his gaze and a sudden pang of pain spreads through the muscle as I look at her unconscious frame before me.

Fuck. Why do I care about this girl? She’s just a means for us to get the cash we need to keep a roof over our heads. This was never about feeling and all that useless empathy crap.

“Uh- Hello! Fin, what’s going on?” Kieran snaps me from my thoughts, and I can almost taste the tension in the air. Bitter, yet laced with promise.

“I think she can handle it,” I say, stepping closer and gently wiping the hair from her face and tucking the icy blonde strands behind her ear. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with,” he breathes as he pulls the mask back over his face.

He seems annoyed. I can’t worry about his feelings when we are so close to securing a massive pay day that’ll keep us afloat for the next twelve months, if we work wisely.

“Want something to take the edge off?” I ask before pulling my mask into place. He eyes me for long seconds before his shoulders sag; almost as if feeling defeated by the situation at hand. “Sure. I want to get this done so things can go back to normal.”

Saturday, 4:22 AM

Fintan walks over to join me next to the table as I look down at the tired little body lying in front of me. “This will help,” he says as he pulls a plastic baggie from his jean pocket and pours a small heap of white powder onto the back of his hand, holding it out for me as he pulls the fabric from his face to rest atop his head like a beanie.

Taking his hand, I lift my mask and snort the drugs and silently wince as it burns its way up my sinuses. “Oof,thanks.” He smirks and creates a larger heap of cocaine for himself, not an ounce of discomfort on his face as he inhales and continues getting things ready for the content.

He does this a lot more than I do. I tend to drink my stress and anxiety away instead of suffocating it with drugs.

Our eyes meet for a moment before I turn my gaze back to the girl who has me questioning whether I want to do this.

What the fuck makes her so special? Why do I suddenly care?

The drugs may provide temporary relief from the sudden hesitation and confusion, but deep down, I know they won’t solve anything.

Yet, in this moment, it’s hard to resist their allure. Fintan’s seemingly nonchalant demeanor only adds to the temptation, his carefree attitude contrasting sharply with my own inner turmoil.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I can’t let my doubts get the best of me now. This is what I signed up for, after all. A dangerous game with high stakes.

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