10. TEN

TEN

" T eagan," a voice whispers. A hand closes around my shoulder, shaking me lightly and rousing me from my sleep. "Wake up."

Layla kneels beside the bed. I can barely make out her features in the dark room and her tone—there's something different about it.

"Layla?" My voice comes out raspy from sleep. "Are you okay?"

"Yes!" she says. "Yes! I'm okay. I know what I have to do now. You helped me—I wanted to tell you that."

"What do you mean?"

"Bridget!" she says. "She wasn't an idiot; I get it now. He was so proud of her. That's what I need to do. Then, he'll have to forgive me."

"What are you talking about?" I ask. I do my best to process her manic words, but even if I wasn't coming out of a deep sleep, I'm not sure they'd make sense.

She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly. "Thank you, Teagan."

"Um, you're welcome…"

She releases me, and for the first time, I see her smile. It's like looking at an entirely different person. That person practically skips across the room. I watch, still trying to piece this together. Moonlight streaming through the window reflects off a butcher knife in her hand just before she reaches the door.

"Take care of my family for me," she says before she turns the corner into the hallway.

"What?"

Oh shit.

He was so proud of her.

Bridget. The knife.

"Wait! Layla!"

I run into the hallway, but I don't see her anywhere.

"Layla!" I shout again. I hear the back door open and close downstairs.

"Fuck!" I yell.

Pulse racing, I run back into the bedroom, step into my boots, and race down the staircase. Spotting her as soon as I step outside, I stop to catch my breath. Layla stops merely fifty feet away, where Declan and Luca sit beside the firepit.

Okay. It'll be okay. They'll be able to stop her.

I watch them both rise to their feet; I can see that they're talking, even if I can't make out any of the words over the blood pumping in my ears.

But I watch her raise the knife, turning it inward toward her body and gripping it with both hands, and neither of them move.

"Layla! Don't!" I scream, running toward the firepit.

But just as I get the words out, she plunges the knife into her stomach. Before I reach her, she pulls it out, drags it across her throat, and crumples to the ground at Declan's feet.

"Do something!" I scream when I reach them. "Why aren't you doing something?! Call 911! We have to stop the bleeding."

I kneel beside Layla and go for her throat, thinking I should cover the wound with my hands.

"Don't touch her!" Declan screams. "Don't you fucking touch her! Luca, get her away from her."

Luca grabs me by my arms and hauls me to my feet, then wraps his arms around me with his chest at my back, holding me tightly against his body.

I think that he must have been in shock—that he knows what he's doing, and he's going to help her now. He lies beside her in the grass and smoothes bloody hair away from her face.

"Oh, Layla," he says. "My sweet Layla. You're so beautiful."

"I'm…sorry," she wheezes. "I…love…you."

"I forgive you, honey," he says. "This is the most precious gift. I'll never forget it."

Oh my god. He's not going to help her—it's just like Bridget. No one made a move to do anything.

He was so proud of her.

Luca didn't kill Bridget. Declan made her kill herself. He wanted the sacrifice; he wanted the power.

He runs his hand over her bloody abdomen, then brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. Then, he leans in and kisses her on the lips, and she smiles before her eyes flutter closed and her rattling breath ceases.

"What is wrong with you!?" I scream. "Call an ambulance! Luca! Luca, please do something!"

"Why do you want to take her choice away from her?" Declan asks. "How cruel would I be to do something like that when she'd just given me the most beautiful gift?"

"This is cruel!" I scream. "The way you've treated her is cruel!"

"You don't get to decide that!" he snaps. He grabs the knife from the ground and licks it clean, and when he speaks again, his voice is calm. "And now you've tainted the moment by acting like it's something ugly."

He pulls her body into his, cradling her blood-soaked body against his own, his expression one of peaceful rapture.

He holds her in a way that probably would have healed her if he'd only done it while she was alive. It occurs to me that even as she lay dying, even after she'd given him what he'd called the most beautiful gift, he still couldn't give her those three words she really wanted to hear.

My heart aches for the girl; I can feel it breaking.

Declan says he's never given me any reason not to trust him. But he told me he was capable of love, and I know that's a lie now. The person who smiled at me in the library isn't real.

"It's okay, baby," Luca says. I'd almost forgotten he was there, holding me back. He kisses me on the side of the head. "Everything dies. There's nothing that makes you feel alive quite like witnessing death. But you probably already know that, don't you?"

"I don't—I barely knew him."

"But you felt it, didn't you?" he asks.

"Of course she did," Declan says.

I shake my head. "I don't remember."

He gently lays Layla back on the grass. "We need to take care of this," he says to Luca. "Go get the guys."

Luca releases me and walks toward the house. I hold my breath and take a few steps forward before Declan turns on me, pointing the knife at my throat. "Nope. Sit. You're part of this. You're going to help."

"How am I—" I start. But I am part of this, aren't I? I look at the bloody, lifeless girl crumpled on the grass and remember what she said to me when she woke me up.

Not only am I a part of this, it's my fault. I gave her the idea.

I'm responsible.

"I didn't—I can't breathe," I force out between shallow breaths. I clutch at my chest with shaky hands, trying to coerce my lungs to cooperate and suck in air, but they refuse. Spots cloud my vision, and I drop down onto the ground.

"It's okay," Declan says, sitting beside me. "You're having a panic attack. Just try and relax. Drop your head and focus on my voice. Breathe, Teagan."

It's not. It's not okay in any way, and I know that. Here I am with a dead body at my feet…again. And it's my fault…again.

"No one did anything wrong here, Teagan," Declan says, running his hand down my back. "Everything is going to be fine. This is all fine. It's just…the way it's supposed to be." He reaches for my chin with bloody hands and turns my face toward him. "And if you can stop overthinking it, I think you'll see the beauty in it."

"What?"

I look up and see three figures crossing the yard toward us, two carrying shovels.

"Oh my god!" Brady's voice comes out as a high-pitched scream when he sees Layla on the ground. "Oh, fuck. Shit." He turns and vomits into the grass, and once he stops, he begins to sob.

"It's all right," Rhett says, rubbing his back.

"But she was—"

"She was in a lot of pain, honey," Rhett says.

"Brady, we don't have time for this," Declan says.

"Just give him a minute," Rhett says. "He'll be okay. Brady, we're going to go pick a nice spot by the river to bury our friend, okay? Don't you think she'd want you to do that for her?"

"Y-yes," he says through sobs.

"Where's Eli?" Declan asks Luca.

He shrugs. "Out, I guess."

"Fine. We need to move now. Rhett and Brady, come with me. Teagan…you're with him."

"But what…what am I supposed to do?" I ask.

He kneels beside Layla, caressing her cheek before running his fingers through the blood dripping from her mouth. He then stands in front of me, grabs me by the chin, and forces those bloody fingers past my lips and onto my tongue. "You're a part of us," he says. "You're going to get her ready."

Declan takes off toward the woods with Rhett and Brady behind him. I look at Luca and watch him shake out a white sheet and lay it flat in the grass.

"Help me move her," he says. "Grab her ankles. I'll get her shoulders. Set her on the edge, and then we're going to roll her up, okay?"

I open my mouth to protest, but no sound comes out.

"Teagan, don't make this difficult," he says. "She's going to be a lot harder to move on my own; don't make me have to cut her into smaller pieces."

"What?!"

"I'm kidding, Teagan," he says, laughing. "I'm not going to cut my friend up. Just help me, okay?"

"That's your idea of a joke? You're making jokes right now?"

He sighs and places a hand on each of my cheeks. "Teagan, baby. Look at me."

I shake my head. "No."

"Look at me, Teag."

He rests his forehead on mine, and I force myself to look up into his emerald-green eyes.

"That's better," he says softly, nuzzling my face with his own. "Help me, Teagan. Okay? You don't have anything to worry about. I'll take care of you."

"Okay," I whisper.

"That's my good girl," he says. "My pretty, sweet, poison girl."

His lips engulf mine, slowly and sensually, waiting for me to let him in, and I do. I can't explain it—maybe I'm just desperate for comfort or for something else to get lost in—but I part my lips and let his tongue slip past mine. I reach out and fist his shirt in my hands, and he bites my lip before he pulls away.

"Let's take care of this…okay? Just…get it over with, Teagan."

"Okay."

Layla wears only a white nightshirt, and there's nowhere I can grab her that isn't covered in blood. Luca lifts her from under her arms and looks at me, waiting. I take a deep breath and kneel in the blood-soaked grass, then pick her up under her thighs and carry her to the edge of the sheet.

"Roll her up tightly," he says. "She'll be easier to carry that way. Are you ready?"

"Yeah," I say, wondering how many bodies they've buried in the backyard.

Luca takes the edge of the sheet and almost pulls it over her face, but before he does, he stops, leans down, and kisses her on the forehead. "Bye, Baby Lay. I'll miss you so much," he says.

Will he, though? Will he miss her? If they rolled me up in a sheet and buried me in their backyard, would anyone fucking miss me?

I'm losing it again. I look down at my bloodstained hands and clothes, and my breathing becomes shallow.

"Teagan?" he says, laying his bloody hand on my own.

"I'm fine," I say, pulling my hand away. I grab my side of the sheet and pull it over her body, and he does the same. We roll her several times before there's no slack left, watching as the sheet saturates with more and more blood each time.

Luca hands me some rope. "Tie this around her legs and ankles a few times," he says.

I take it from him and do as he asks while he does the same, tying the rope around her torso and her neck.

"I should be able to carry her myself," he says. "Just walk ahead of me and take the flashlight, okay?"

"Okay."

He holds it out to me, and I take it. I click it on and wait while he reaches beneath the sheet and hauls her into his arms. Then, I start walking down the trail.

We don't speak, and I don't look back. I don't look down at my own bloodstained hands. I stare at the illuminated path. It feels like it takes ten times longer than it did this morning, but eventually, we make it to the clearing where they're working on a hole that isn't even close to deep enough.

"Oh good," Declan says, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "You two can take a shift now."

He steps away from the very shallow hole and hands me a shovel. I consider protesting, but I know there's no point. I have no power here. What will it get me besides maybe a hole in the woods for myself?

Brady hands his shovel to Luca and takes a seat on the ground next to Layla's body. He places his hand on the place where her heart would beat if she were still alive. "I'm so sorry, Layla," he says.

"Don't be sorry," Declan snaps. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

I quickly look away and start digging—or try my best anyway. I can barely get the shovel into the ground, and eventually, Rhett notices.

"Teagan is just making this take more time," Rhett says.

"I don't care," Declan says.

"We're going to have to do more work because of her," he says. "She doesn't even know Layla."

"She's a part of this. She's going to help."

"Why?" Rhett asks.

"So that he can incriminate her," Brady says. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

I freeze and look at Declan, awaiting a response, but I don't get one. He looks back at me and raises one eyebrow, challenging me, but I say nothing.

We must stay out there for hours in the cold, digging in shifts, until finally, Declan decides the hole is deep enough, and he and Brady lay her body inside. Then, we cover her grave.

"Brady, Rhett—you can go back to the house," Declan says. "I'm going to stay with her for a while."

The two of them say goodbye to Layla one last time before disappearing down the dark trail.

"Luca," Declan calls, then gestures for him to come closer.

I watch from a few feet away, waiting while they speak in hushed tones. Luca's eyes dart to me and then back to Declan as he listens to him speak, and he nods.

I know they're talking about me, and it makes me nervous. Really, really fucking nervous.

"Let's go, Teagan," Luca says.

He waits until I'm at his side, and we begin walking down the trail, leaving Declan alone in the clearing.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Home," he says.

"And then what?" I ask.

"I guess you'll find out when we get there."

He smiles, but his eyes are like they were at the waterfall this afternoon—cold and indifferent. I don't think before I do it; I hear rushing water to my left and break into a run.

"Teagan! Stop!" he calls after me.

His footsteps close in on me much quicker than I'd anticipated, and I panic. I look back over my shoulder and subsequently trip over a root or a stump and fall face-first onto the muddy forest floor. Struggling, I pull myself to my feet, and when I do, Luca's hand closes around my throat.

"Why would you do that?" he asks, backing me into a tree. "Huh? Why the fuck would you run from me like that?"

"I…can't…breathe."

"I thought you liked me."

"You're…hurting…me…please…"

He closes the space between us and slowly releases the grip on my throat, then runs his knuckles up my neck and the side of my cheek.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Breath heaving, I ask, "Are you going to kill me?"

"What? Why would I kill you, Teagan? Is that why you ran? You thought I was going to kill you?"

I nod.

"I'm not a murderer, Teagan," he says. "I've never killed anyone; I'm not going to kill you, all right?"

"I'm scared," I tell him. "I don't want to be out here anymore."

"I can tell," Luca says. "You're terrified, aren't you, baby? I warned you about that, didn't I?"

He slides his hand up my thigh, then he grips my ass and presses his erection into me.

Yeah. I guess he did warn me.

"Get on your knees, Teagan."

"What?"

"You heard me." He goes for the button on his pants and takes out his cock. "Get on your fucking knees and wrap your pretty lips around my cock. Kiss it and make it better, and maybe I'll forgive you."

"Luca…"

"You ran from me. You're not going anywhere until I come down your throat. Don't test my fucking patience. I can make it hurt."

"Okay…"

I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock, then sink down onto my knees in the dirt and take him in my mouth.

"Ah, fuck yes," he groans. He braces himself against the tree with one hand and threads the other through my hair while I bob my head on his cock.

"God, I needed this. Teagan, look at me."

I look up at him and keep working his dick with my hand and mouth—sucking, licking, and stroking him, taking as much of him as I can until I gag on it. He watches me through hooded lids, fluttering open and closed, his mouth slightly open.

"You're doing so good, Teagan," he rasps. "Fuck, your mouth was made for this, baby."

Despite how fucked up this all is, his words have me wet and squeezing my thighs together, and I moan around his cock.

"You like that, baby? You look so pretty covered in dirt and blood," he says, rocking his hips against me. "Almost as good as you look covered in my cum."

He tightens his grip around my hair and thrusts his massive cock into my mouth hard and fast. I dig my nails into his thighs and try my best to breathe through my nose.

Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as the head hits deep in the back of my throat. I squeeze them shut.

"Fuck," he groans. "That's it, baby. You're going to swallow every last drop. Look at me and nod if you understand."

I look up at him with his cock in my mouth and nod.

"If you ever try and run from me again, I'll make sure you never see daylight," he says, pumping into my mouth. "I'll keep you locked up, and you'll be my little fucktoy. Oh…fuck," he moans, holding me in place while he coats the back of my throat with cum. When he's finally empty, he pulls out of my mouth, and I swallow and try to catch my breath. I wipe my chin and mouth with my sleeve, then pull myself up and take a step back.

"Hey…are you okay?" he asks. "Did you hurt yourself when you fell?"

"No," I tell him. "I'm…okay."

"Good. I'm sorry I scared you, Teagan."

He kisses me on the mouth, then pulls me into his chest. Confused, I wrap my arms around him.

"But don't do that to me again," he says, then kisses the top of my head. "Promise me you won't try to leave me."

"I won't…I promise."

He sighs. "Okay. Let's go."

He takes my hand, and we walk the rest of the way to the house like that. When we get to the backyard, he says, "We need to burn our clothes."

I follow him to the firepit and strip down to my underwear like he does, crossing my arms in front of my bare chest as if that's going to do anything to keep me warm. Luca gathers our clothes and tosses them into the fire. Then, he grabs a container of lighter fluid, adds it to the flames, and we watch it shoot up in front of us.

Once it settles, he turns to me and smirks. "You're not going to like this."

"I'm not going to like what?"

He nods towards the house. "Come on."

I follow him, but not to the back door—around the side of the house instead. He stops next to a hose and turns the dial on the spigot.

I shake my head. "No."

"I'm sorry," he says. "Declan told me to."

"Luca, please, I'm—"

He squeezes the garden hose nozzle, and I scream when the ice-cold water hits my skin, taking my breath away.

"Stop!" I yell. "Please! It hurts!"

Eventually, he does stop, and I stand there, chilled to the bone, and watch as he does the same to himself before shutting off the water. He flashes me a smile. "Now we can go in," he says.

"I don't th-th-think I can m-move," I tell him, teeth chattering.

He sighs, then lifts me into his arms. I fold my body into his as much as I can in a shitty attempt to get warm.

"You know, I kind of like you like this," he says as we step inside. "Is that terrible?"

"Y-y-yes."

He laughs like I'm joking, and we pass River and Hazel in the living room.

"What the fuck is going on?" River asks.

"Nothing," Luca says. "Go to bed."

"Fuck that," Hazel says. "Tell us what's going on now, Luca!"

"Declan will talk to you about it in the morning," he says as he ascends the staircase. "Good night."

"Luca, wait!" River calls out. "Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine; I just need to get her into the shower."

"Well, let us help you."

"No. Leave us alone."

"Luca, don't hurt her!"

"I'm not going to fucking hurt her, River. Go to bed. It's what Declan wants."

We continue down the hallway to what I assume must be his bedroom and then to his bathroom. He sets me down on the toilet and turns on a shower like the one in Layla's room. Once it feels warm against his skin, he removes his wet underwear, then pulls me to my feet and slides mine down my legs, too. I step out of them, and he ushers me into the shower first.

"Ahh!" I scream. "It's burning me!"

He steps into the water and sucks in a breath through his teeth. "It's not," he says. "It's not burning you—you just think it is because you're so cold. Give it a minute, breathe through it."

He wraps his arms around me, and I grimace under the painful spray. He holds my naked body against his own, brushing my wet hair away from my face with his fingers.

Eventually, it stops hurting like he said it would, and I sigh with relief.

"See?" he says. "What'd I tell you? You're okay, Teagan."

He grabs a loofa and, without saying anything else, he washes me and then himself. I wonder if shock is finally setting in because I just stand there and let him, barely able to move or speak. And it doesn't even feel sexual. It feels…loving. Like he's trying to care for me.

He wraps a towel around his waist and then grabs another for me, wringing my hair out before patting me dry. I wrap the towel around my body and he guides me back into the dark bedroom. I'm about to ask him for something to wear when he comes up behind me and pulls the towel from my body.

He presses his body against the back of mine, and I feel him hard against my ass. He leans down, kissing my neck, running his hands over the front of my body, over my breasts and my nipples.

"Luca…what are you doing?" I ask.

I know the answer, but surely, he isn't going to try and fuck me now, right?

One hand trails down my stomach, settling between my thighs, and he starts to rub my clit. "Shhh," he says. "I just want to hear you scream a few more times, and then I'll let you go to bed, okay?"

He forces my face down into the bed, then kicks my legs apart with his feet. He pushes his cock inside me slowly, burying himself to the hilt.

"Oh, fuck," I moan. All of my limbs go limp from a mix of pleasure and pain. "Luca…"

"Jesus," he groans, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in. "Fuck, you're just as sweet and tight as I knew you would be."

"Ah!"

He keeps the same slow rhythm for about a minute more, and I cry out every time he pushes back in.

"This might hurt your tight little pussy, Teagan," he says, rolling his hips into me a little harder and a little faster, "but I can't fucking take it anymore."

He grabs my arms and pulls them behind my back, using them for leverage as he fucks into me. I scream, just like he wanted, as he viciously slams into me, the sound of skin against skin almost as loud as my cries.

And it hurts. It hurts like he said it would. I wonder if he's going to dislocate my shoulders. I wonder if he could actually tear me in half with his giant cock like he said he would.

"I know, baby," he says. "You're doing so good. You're being such a good girl for me, Teagan."

He groans loudly and kicks my legs further apart.

"Luca!" I whimper.

"You like that, baby?" he says. "You like being my good fucking girl?"

"Yes…oh, god…"

Luca finally releases my arms and rolls me onto my back. Then, he pulls me to the very edge of the bed, pins my knees at my sides, and drives into me again.

And that curve…hits just the right spot, like River said.

I fist the covers as I feel myself about to unravel.

"God, you're taking it so…fucking…well."

"Oh, fuck," I moan. "Fuck…Luca…you're so big. Oh, god."

He grunts and rolls his hips into me harder. "Your tight little body was made for this," he groans. "I'm going to fucking ruin you, Teagan."

And as my legs begin to shake and my pussy clenches around his dick, I believe him. I scream from somewhere in the back of my throat as the most intense, most violent orgasm of my life rips through me. Barely able to take it, I writhe against his grip, whimpering when I realize I'm not going anywhere.

I fall back on the bed and let it roll through me hard—it lasts and lasts and doesn't let up, and neither does he.

But I lie back and take it—take it so well—while the aftershocks continue to roll through me.

Then, he moves his grip on my legs to my ass, spreading me wider, thrusting himself into me harder until he stiffens inside me with a groan.

"Oh, fuck. Teagan…" His cock pulses deep inside of me until he collapses on top of my body, and we lie there both breathless. "Next time, I want you to bleed for me," he says. He points to a spot right under my collarbone. "I'll cut you right there, okay?"

"Okay," I whisper.

"Let's go to bed," he says.

He rolls off of me and climbs into the bed. I crawl under the covers on the opposite side and then he brings me into his arms, holding me tightly against him.

I'm not sure what to make of what the fuck happened between us tonight.

I had the best orgasm of my fucking life, but…I'm pretty sure none of this was right. But he's holding me and running his hands through my hair like it's all fine. And when was the last time someone did that? Maybe it is okay.

"Good night, Teagan," Luca says. "I love you."

My eyes go wide in the dark room.

What.

What the fuck did he just say?

Never mind. This is not okay. He is not okay. For the first time in my life, I hear those words aloud and, of course, they come from an insane person.

Why wouldn't they?

They were right—they were all right. Luca is too much. He's too fucking much. I can't handle him.

This is all too fucking much.

I feel a tightening sensation in my throat, and my eyes start to sting.

No, I can't.

But I do. I let out a sob. Tears start to roll down my cheeks for the first time in years.

"Teagan, are you okay? Are you crying?"

"I'm scared," I cry. "I want to go home."

"It's okay," he says, kissing the top of my head. "You're fine. You're safe here; I promise, okay? Just go to sleep, Teag. You'll feel better in the morning."

"I don't believe you."

"You'll see," he says.

"I want River," I cry.

"You can talk to her tomorrow."

For whatever reason, that makes me cry harder.

"I don't have any more clothes."

"I'll get you some," he says. "Teagan—look at me."

"I hate crying," I say.

"I know you do. But it is going…to be…okay."

He wipes the tears from under my eyes with his thumbs and kisses me on the mouth.

"Okay."

"But Teagan?"

I can tell by his tone that I'm not going to like what he has to say next. "What?"

"I think I might need to tie you up."

I sob harder. "What? No…please, Luca. Don't. Don't tie me up."

"I'm sorry, but you're scaring me," he says.

"Please, Luca. Don't do that to me. I'll die."

He laughs. "Teagan, you won't die, baby."

"Please. You don't need to do that. I'm not going to do anything. I won't leave. I'll be good."

"Teagan…"

"Everything already hurts. Be reasonable."

"Okay. I can be reasonable." He turns, opens the side table drawer, and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. "Look," he says. "Compromise."

He closes one of the cuffs around my wrist before I can react, then closes the other around his own.

"That's not so bad, is it?" he asks.

But I can't answer. I don't know how to answer.

He smiles, apparently taking my silence as agreement, and pulls me in closer to him. "Go to sleep, Teagan," he says.

"Okay."

I close my eyes and beg for it to pull me under.