Chapter 83

EIGHTY-THREE

AMETHYST

I stare into Xero’s eyes, trying to ignore the volume of my pulse pounding into my eardrums. They’re black pools surrounded with the barest traces of blue that crackle with the white heat of his fury. I’ve never seen him so angry.

“Burning down a church won’t save Camila,” I say.

His fingers tighten around my throat, cutting off my air.

“Do you think I’ll let you throw your life away so easily?” His voice is a dangerously soft rumble that makes my blood run cold.

Every instinct screams at me to drop down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. My vision blurs, but I hold my ground, forcing myself to breathe through his crushing grip.

“Let me do this,” I say through clenched teeth. “Don’t forget, I knocked you out, set the basement on fire, and left you for dead. You brushed over that like it was nothing when you should hate me.”

His eyes narrow into slits. “Hating you would be like hating my own heart. Since you don’t believe in forgiveness, then you will take this punishment.”

My breath catches. “What does that even mean?”

He releases his grip around my throat, leaving me swaying on my feet. Gasping for air, I stare at his broad back as he advances toward the torture table, wondering if burning down the church is a metaphor for something else.

But when he bends down and picks up two canisters of gasoline, my instincts kick in and I step backward, not knowing what the hell he’ll do next.

“Xero,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from being choked. “What the hell are you doing?

He sets both canisters on the table with a jarring clink. Without looking in my direction, he snarls, “Giving you the chance to make amends.”

Dread rolls in my gut like thunder I struggle to understand his twisted logic. “I didn’t mean meeting Delta alone. I’ll be the bait, but you and the others will be a few feet away, watching my back.”

He slams his fist on the table, making me flinch. “Never.”

My mind races, trying to comprehend his madness. Xero’s sisters are the only positive part of his childhood. Why would he risk either of them for a woman he’s barely known for a year? He can’t dismiss an opportunity to save Camila just because it puts me in danger.

When he rips off the lid of one canister, I take another step back and bump into something solid. Barrett’s unconscious body swings from the ropes, still streaming blood from multiple cuts.

Flinching, I turn back to Xero. “What are you doing?”

Ignoring my question, he unscrews the second canister and walks both of them around the altar’s perimeter, pouring out a stream of gasoline onto its wooden floor.

I stiffen, my veins surging with cold fear. “Xero, please... don’t do this.”

“You asked for punishment. Now, you will receive it.” He jumps down from the altar and strides along the far side of the pews, spilling more of the flammable liquid on the floorboards.

“Untie me,” Seth croaks from where he’s hanging. “It’s not too late for me to take you?—”

A knife whizzes past my face and lodges in his chest. Jumping back with a yelp, I turn to the other side of the church, where Xero picks up his canister and continues dousing the floor with that infernal liquid.

“He’s bullshitting,” Xero snarls at me.

I swallow over and over, wondering why the hell I’m not getting through to Xero. Maybe he’s right. Maybe Seth is saying whatever can buy him an opening to escape. I can’t think straight with my psychotic boyfriend creating a ring of gasoline.

Turning back to Seth, I say, “Xero has lost his mind. Give me something and I’ll at least stop you from burning to death.”

Features tightening, he strains against the ropes. His head dips, and he chokes a sob before meeting my gaze. “Cut me down. Please.”

Xero’s laugh reverberates through the church, a manic sound that chills me to the bone. Despite everything, the sight of him burning down a building with us inside is strangely captivating.

“If he knew something, he would have said it earlier. Now he’s just desperate.”

A shiver snakes down my spine. There’s only one way to find out if Xero is right. I grab Seth’s flaccid penis. “Don’t fuck with me and don’t think I’ve forgotten how you slid this into the door hatch and told me to suck it in exchange for a bottle of water.”

He shudders. “I’m not the danger. It’s him.”

“You have a choice,” I snarl. “I can stab you in the heart and give you a quick death, or you can bleed out through a gaping wound in your groin.”

Fear floods Seth’s eyes, his pale face turning green, his gaze darting to Barrett. His lips tremble, but he makes no sound.

“What it’s going to be, Seth?” I ask. “A quick death or slow agony?”

“You’re as insane as that cunt,” he spits. “Delta didn’t stab me in the back. It was her. Ever since they got married, she’s made him weak. She’s the puppeteer.”

“So, nothing useful?” I make my first slice into the base of his shriveled dick.

“Her left eye is made of glass!” he screams.

“Something about her location.” I press the blade deeper, freeing a torrent of warm blood. His scream echoes across the church walls.

When all he does is jibber, I sever the rest of his penis and bring it to his lips. “Dessert.”

He jerks his head to the side. “You crazy bitch.”

“And you’re a liar.” I whack him across the face with the severed appendage. “A rapist.” I punctuate the word with another dick-slap. “And a murderer.”

His shrill laugh rings through my ears. “And what does that make you, huh? Torturer? Executioner?”

“A survivor.” I bring the bloody stump to his mouth. “And the one who’s giving you your last supper.”

Before I can stuff the penis down Seth’s gullet, Xero grabs my wrist in an iron grip and whirls me around. His eyes are wild, almost feral, radiating a dangerous mix fury and insanity.

Unable to withstand his gaze, I glance at the flame flickering at the tip of his lighter, casting a dancing light that illuminates the shadows of the old church. The heat from the impending fire and the intensity of his stare make my skin prickle with a surge of adrenaline.

“Are you playing with another man’s cock?” he growls.

My stomach drops.

Shit.

“Xero,” I whisper, my voice trembling, “Turn off that lighter, or I’ll?—”

“You’ll what?” Xero interrupts with a grin sharp enough to cut throats. “Bad girls who leave men to die in burning basements are in no position to make threats.”

Behind us, Seth’s laughter morphs to wracking sobs. I toss the severed penis at his face, which only makes him cry harder.

Ignoring him, I turn back to Xero and his still-burning lighter. He breathes hard, his eyes dancing, their depths reflecting the flickering flames of madness.

My heart hurls itself against my ribcage, threatening to burst out of my chest. I breathe hard, struggling to keep calm enough to make him see reason.

“Let’s go to the car,” I say, trying not to provoke him further. “We can get out of here together.”

The grip on my arm tightens, and he leans close with a dark chuckle. “And why would I deprive you of a punishment?”

My lips part, and I struggle to form an answer. Before I can think of something to say to soothe this beast, Xero tosses the lighter over his shoulder with a sadistic smirk. The flame flies in an arc before landing on the altar cloth, which sets alight with a loud whoosh.

Panic bubbles up in my chest as the fire spreads across the church’s perimeter with the speed of falling dominoes. Wrenching my arm from Xero’s iron grip, I dart toward the edge of the altar, desperate to outrun the flames.

Snarling, Xero charges after me, grabs my waist, and lifts me off my feet. He spins me around and grabs my chin, forcing our gazes to meet. His features twist into a rictus of fury, sending a thrill of terror that goes straight to my clit.

“No one takes you from me. Not even you,” he snarls, his voice dark and possessive.

Flames crawl up the altar’s walls and up to its wooden ceiling. As fiery particles drop down like ashes from hell, I scream, “Oh my God!”

“That’s right, little ghost. I’m your god, and tonight you’re going to pray to me for deliverance.”

I push at his chest, trying to wrestle free, but his grip tightens around my waist. I claw at his eyes, but my gloved fingernails only slide down his face. He bites down on my chin, delivering a burst of pain that makes me shriek.

“Xero, we need to leave.”

My mind dredges up the safe word, but my lips refuse to cooperate. The pulse between my legs throbs in sync with the frantic beat of my heart, and the muscles of my core throb with anticipation. A sick, curious part of my psyche craves to know how far Xero will push this punishment.

He walks us past the altar rails, which burn like hellfire. Pulling up my leather skirt to my waist, he exposes my pussy to the hot air.

Cold fear trickles down my back, and I shiver. He positions my legs around his waist and strokes my aching clit. Sparks detonate across my core as his digits glide down my soaking slit.

Somewhere on the edge of my consciousness, the clink of his metal belt unbuckling mingles with Seth’s hoarse screams. I’m too preoccupied with the psychopath stroking my pussy to heed to the words of a dickless rapist.

“Look at you,” Xero snarls, his breath hot against my ear. He slips two fingers into my opening, creating delicious friction. “So eager and wet for your punishment.”

I bite back a groan, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Fuck off.”

“You want to fuck, baby. As you wish. I’ll give it to you nice and deep. Just how you like it.” He pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his thick cock. “Now take it all.”

His first forceful thrust has me gasping for air. The stretch is incredible—almost too much to bear. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I stifle a moan.

“I love you so much that nearly losing you cost me my soul. I won’t risk it again,” he snarls.

“Xero, please,” I moan into the side of his neck.

“Please, what? Use your words.”

I shake my head and clamp my mouth shut. If I speak, I might beg him for more when I should be begging him for mercy.

He pounds into me without compassion or restraint. I cling onto his shoulders, fighting back a barrage of pleasure. This isn’t a baptism of fire or some kind of sacrament—this is suicidal. This is insane. Those thoughts are cut off when Xero’s thick Prince Albert piercing rubs against a spot that has me seeing sparks.

As if sensing that I want more, he unhooks the front of my corset. My breasts spill out into his hands, then he squeezes the left one hard enough to make me gasp. The pain is sharp, and my pussy tightens around his thick cock, triggering a surge of arousal that makes us both groan.

“Xero, we’re going to burn,” I say with a whimper.

“There’s no place I’d rather die than inside your heavenly cunt.”

I grip his shoulders and buck my hips, not knowing if I’m trying to wriggle off his cock to escape or increase the friction. Either way, pleasure surges through my core, mingling with cold adrenaline and raw fear. It’s a dangerous cocktail of emotions that has my mind spinning out of control.

“You feel so good, little ghost,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises. “So hot and tight and wet.”

The fire rages around our entwined bodies, and the heat from the flames makes my skin break out in sweat. I’m burning up from the inside, and every thrust from Xero feels like a brand.

His mouth descends on my neck, the teeth grazing my sensitive skin before he bites down, eliciting a shock of pleasure-pain. I arch up, pressing myself against his chest, my hips lifting to fuck that impossibly thick cock.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his voice raw with desire. “Ride me through this inferno. Ride me till my knees buckle. Ride me to our fucking salvation.”

Ecstasy burns through what’s left of my good sense, leaving me teetering on the edge of oblivion. Pressure builds, and the walls of my pussy quiver around his shaft. All thoughts of survival and escape disappear into the flames as I chase my orgasm.

By now, the church has erupted beyond a ring of fire, with flames consuming its walls and spreading across its ceilings. Some of the wooden pews have caught fire, crackling with dancing sparks. I squeeze my eyes shut and cling onto his shoulders, imagining us both together in hell.

Just as my eyes roll to the back of my head, the crazy bastard stops thrusting and snarls, “Do you want to come?”

“Fuck, yes.” I reach down between our bodies to stroke my clit, but he snatches my wrist.

“Then tell me you’re mine.”

My eyes snap open. For a heartbeat, I hesitate, my gaze locking with his amidst the chaos. Silence stretches across the burning church, broken only by the crackle of flames and the snap of burning wood. His eyes burn with a need so raw and carnal, it makes me shiver despite the surrounding heat.

“Xero… I’ve always been yours,” I grind out, my voice hoarse with desperation and desire. “Maybe even before I saw your mugshot. I knew a man like you was out there, waiting to rescue me from my tower.”

“Then tell me you’ll never leave.”

My throat tightens at this glimpse of vulnerability. Half-assed declarations flicker through my mind, but I can’t dredge up the right words. The fire rages and wood splinters and cracks from above, reminding me that time is running out. At this rate, the church’s roof will collapse on our heads.

“Never.”

In the past, I might have loved him for the way he looked, or the way he made me feel, or even for protection, but that was when I was incomplete. A dangerous mix of gaslighting, suppressed memories, and prescription drugs kept me from uncovering the depth of my emotions.

Now, as I’m stripped bare and on the brink of death, everything is clear. Every time Xero said he loved me was the truth. I belong to him, and he belongs to me. It’s simple.

“I won’t ever leave you again. You’re the only man I trust.”

“Good girl. Now, prove it.”

He wants me to ride his cock again, to claim him in the heat of this burning church. Our relationship went sideways when I jilted him at the altar. It’s only fitting that we commit to each other in the flames of our desire.

I move against him, each roll of my hips a promise, each gasp escaping my lips a vow. Xero Greaves is mine and I am his—forever, until the end of time. When time no longer exists and we’re just fragments floating in chaos, our love will be the primordial anchor keeping us intertwined.

His lips descend on mine, sealing our union with a kiss that tastes like redemption and sin. My eyes flutter shut, and I revel in the depth of our connection.

“Xero, I’m yours,” I pant against his mouth, each word punctuated with a desperate thrust. My nails dig into his shoulders as my movements become more frenzied, the friction driving me closer to the edge. The heat, the danger, the sheer force of his possession—it’s all too much.

“Oh, fuck… Xero, I’m going to…” I gasp, my body trembling.

“Come for me, little ghost. Make these walls collapse with your screams.”

His words send me over the edge, and I shriek through an orgasm, every muscle in my body tightening as if bound by an unbreakable force. My legs wrap tighter around his waist, clinging to him, my senses alight with flames of pleasure. I revel in the heat, the scent of burning wood, the feel of our bodies pressed so tightly we become one.

Xero’s groans are low and guttural and primal as he comes with powerful thrusts, filling me with spurts upon spurts of warm fluid. The intensity of it leaves me trembling, my legs quivering around his waist with the aftershocks of our shared ecstasy.

I’m spent, utterly consumed. As I catch my breath and open my eyes, the world comes back into focus. We’re no longer in the church but in the moonlit courtyard where he parked the car. Acrid smoke billows through the night like escaping phantoms, and I glance over my shoulder, finding the stone building engulfed in flames.

Before I can ask when he took us out of the fire, he flinches and curses under his breath.

My brow pinches. “Xero, what’s wrong?”

A sharp sting pierces into my neck. I hiss.

Xero plucks out a small dart, his features twisting with rage, and snarls, “We’re under attack.”