Page 98 of Wicked Deceit
“Take them all,” Cushing encourages, checking the time on his watch. “But make it snappy, Son. We’ve got to close this lot out soon and move on to bigger and better things. We’ve got a whole horseman ceremony laid out for you at home. Plenty of women to fuck and food to eat. A celebration of the century,” he says with enthusiasm and then returns to his conversation with his brothers. And my stomach fucking drops. A celebration? To what? Celebrate the death of three people tonight and my status as the last horseman. Yeah, I don’t fucking think so. The only thing we’ll be celebrating tonight is the beat-down the Apocalypse Society deserves.
An involuntary growl slips from my throat, and I grit my teeth so hard at my father’s command that I might crack a damn tooth. “I’ll take all the fucking time I need,” I shout, giving Kaycee my back. “I will do whatever I fucking please.”
“You want time alone?” He asks, raising a brow. “To do?”
“Whatever the fuck I see fit. She’s mine, isn’t she?” My gloved fingers curl into fists around the pliers dangling from my grip. “Mine to fucking torture. Mine to fucking bleed. She is mine to do with as I please,” I growl every word, hiding the fucking tremor from my voice. Time is running out, and I need to get this show on the fucking road right the fuck now.
A grin lights up my cunt-father’s face. “A finger it is then,” he says, gesturing with a hand for me to continue without moving to exit the room. “But we stay put first.”
“We want a front row seat for the screams,” Shaw says nonchalantly again, leaning against the wall with his eyebrows raised. “It just isn’t the same through a monitor,” he sighs through disappointment and urges me to continue like he has somewhere more important to be.
“Nail,” I proclaim with a huff, turning on my toes to face Kaycee again.
Her body shudders when I lean over her and examine the swelling on her face. Frantic breaths spear through me when I block out the entire room from view. A smirk places on my lips when the tool in my hand runs across her good cheek, tracing the freckles. I lick my lips, putting my forehead against her, and I finally fucking break. For a minuscule second, I revel in the feel of her. Her breaths brush over my parted lips. Quietly, I gasp for air, pushing my forehead into her until the pressure forces her good eye to pop open, and she peers deep into mine. To see what I’ve been hiding behind the mask I put in place the moment I walked into this house of horrors.
“I have to,” I breathe the first words I can think of and convey what I need to convey as quickly and as quietly as possible. “Please trust me,” I beg with all my might, trying to show her that I’m fucking trying. “I will fucking save you, Sweetheart.” Before I can sit there for too much longer, I pull away without saying another word and take her tension-filled hand into mine. I swallow thickly, squeezing her hand three times telling her the words I could never say. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Tension fills every inch of my fucking body when the pointed metal of the pliers rests just beneath her fingernail, resting there until she meets my eyes again. Bitter bile rests in my throat, burning until I swallow it all down. I have no fucking choice in the matter. If I want to save her god damn life, then I have to yank her nail from its bed and fucking display it for the psychos waiting behind me. I keep my gaze on hers, letting every emotion out of the black box I put it in. It flickers across my eyes, showcasing everything to her and letting her see it all. A sharp cry falls from her lips when I gently pull the nail free, and I nearly barf when blood pools in its place.
Tears flow freely down her cheeks, covering her in wetness. She continues to watch me when I hold the stupid nail in the air, earning my place within the ranks of their fucked up club.
“Welcome to the club, kid,” Crowe croons, staring behind me at the girl I’d tear my heart out for. He smirks, slapping me on the back.
“You made me proud, boy,” My father says, cocking his head to the side. “You’ve earned your alone time with her. Never thought I’d see the day.” He purses his lip, slapping me lightly on the face. “Get the job done.” That is all he says before they exit the room, talking to one another.
My tongue runs the length of my bottom teeth, counting the steps they’ve taken down the hall. When I’m satisfied they won’t come back in, I step into action, locking the door behind us, and shove a rickety old chair under the handle. It won’t keep them out, but it’ll slow them down. Strolling over to her at a quick pace, I keep the manic grin spread across my face for the cameras. As I pass each camera mounted on the wall, I eye them with narrowed eyes, turning them away from Kaycee, and kick down the tripods they had set up for their precious ceremony until I get to her. Now, no one will see what I’m truly up to until it’s too fucking late. I kneel down in desperation, carefully palming her cheeks.
“Fuck! Sweetheart, open your fucking eyes,” I hiss, tapping her good cheek to rouse her. “You cannot fucking leave me yet, do you fucking hear me? Now, give me a scream. Do something, Vixen, so they think I’m cooperating.”
“I can’t,” she mumbles through a heavy tongue. I grunt, working the thick ropes from around her wrists holding her to the chair, and throw them behind me without a fucking care. All I care about right now is getting her the fuck out of here.
“You can, and you fucking will, Sweetheart. I’ll be damned if you die because I couldn’t fucking save you. You die. I die. You got that?” A growl rumbles through my chest when I pull her close, careful to keep the knife from bumping into anything.
“I’msosorry,”Iwhisper, letting the tears I held for so long fall down my cheeks. I’ve been made of stone for way too long and all the feelings rush through me. “Give me a second, okay? I have a fucking plan, but you have to promise me something.” I say, running a hand through her sweat-soaked hair.
“What?” she whispers in a small voice, barely registering over the whooshing in my ears.
“Do not give up. Do you fucking understand?” I bark out through gritted teeth. She nods once, looking my face over. “Sweetheart?” I whisper again as I pull her phone out of my waistband, typing a message to the group chat.
Me: It’s time!
Zepp: On it!
“Yeah?” she asks, resting her forehead against my chest. My fingers run through her matted hair, carefully soothing her until it’s time to move.
I close my eyes, letting the tears fall freely. My breaths shutter in my tightening chest, and I lick my lips. “I…. I…. fucking love you,” I confess. “I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t say it, but I’ve known for a long time.” My voice catches during my confession, and I close my eyes, reeling my emotions back in. I could break down now and fucking cry my eyes out. But I have shit to do and a woman to save.
“Me too,” she whispers back, her voice trailing off.
“Stay with me, Sweetheart.” I rasp, holding tight to her. At this point, I don’t care what it looks like on camera to the assholes watching back in the viewing room.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You left my hand out?” She asks with her warm breath brushing against my chest. Relief slams through me when the bright spotlights and the red lights from the cameras keeping watch blink out, bathing us in darkness.
I rest my lips on top of Kaycee’s head, saying a brief prayer to once again save us and help us leave this hell together. The time has come to enact our plan and get this shitshow on the road.
“Yes, it was me,” I whisper, lingering for a second longer. “And now it’s time to go.” Stepping back, I lift her frail body into my arms.
She doesn’t utter a word when I move back the black curtains hanging from the ceiling, concealing the windows. My breaths rush out in victory when the lone window comes into view, blocked by multiple pieces of rotted two-by-fours—tiny slivers of moonlight leaking through the cracks of the wood. Tears burn the back of my eyes, and victory lifts the weight off my shoulders. This is fucking it. This is our way out, and it’s within grabbing distance.
