11. ELEVEN

ELEVEN

I 'm awake, but I refuse to open my eyes. My body feels so heavy, I'm not sure I can move. Everything from last night plays back on repeat in my mind. I hear Layla's voice in my head when she woke me up and told me how I'd helped her so clearly that it's as if she's here with me now. And I can feel it—the weight of her limp, bloodied body. The way it felt when she'd thud against the ground while we rolled up the sheet. I remember the cold and Luca fucking me.

I can hear his steady heartbeat now as I lie against his chest. He's awake, too. His fingers are in my hair, massaging my scalp. If I don't think too much about it, it feels really nice.

Our cuffed hands are resting together near my chin. The muscles in my back are sore enough that I feel the hurt when I breathe.

Digging a grave is fucking hard. It's definitely not something I want to do twice.

"Teagan, I know you're awake," Luca says. Still, I don't react or open my eyes. "Your breath is too slow and shallow. You weren't doing that when you were asleep."

"I'm not ready to deal with this," I tell him.

He sighs, then moves his body on top of mine.

"Open your eyes," he says.

I do as he asks and look up at him. His chiseled jaw has more stubble than I'm used to seeing, his dirty blonde hair falls around his face. A tattooed hand reaches for me, caressing my cheek.

"Not so bad, right?" he asks.

His tone is as gentle as that touch. I'm not sure what to make of it.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," I tell him. "Which part?"

He leans in and kisses me on the lips. "I'm sorry, Teagan," he whispers before kissing me again. He shifts, and I feel his hard cock between my legs, eliciting a small gasp. "I'm so sorry, baby."

He moves his mouth to my neck, gently rocking his hips against me, keeping one hand on the side of my cheek while one in the cuff runs over my body, squeezing my breast and toying with my nipple.

"Luca," I pant. "Everything hurts."

"But your pussy is wet for me," he says. "Tell me that it's all okay and that you aren't mad at me and you want me, too. I'll be gentle with you…as much as I can. Please, Teagan."

I want him. I know I shouldn't want him, but he's all hard, tattooed muscle, and his mouth feels like heaven. Maybe what I really want is comfort, but I've never really known what that feels like, and this is the next best thing. And maybe part of it is just that I have all of this pent-up stress and anxiety, and I need somewhere for it to go.

It seems to be settling in my lower gut now.

He's danger and sex mixed with the threat of something worse. He's a beautiful disaster of a human donning the perfect costume to lure someone exactly like me in.

Someone who, for whatever reason, never really learned better—never learned to run in the other direction when she found herself face-to-face with real monsters.

"It's all okay," I whisper. I push my free hand through his hair, gripping it and bringing his mouth back to mine. "I'm not mad at you," I tell him, kissing him. "And I want you, too."

"Thank fuck," he says, deepening the kiss, his mouth engulfing mine. His free hand grips my thigh and spreads my legs further apart, then he slowly sinks into me. I moan against his mouth, my toes curling as waves of pleasure roll over my body.

"Your pussy is so fucking perfect," he says, rocking into me. "You were fucking made for me, Teagan," he says.

He pins my arms above my head, and I groan.

"Not my arms," I tell him. "Not my shoulders or my back, Luca. They hurt."

"I'm sorry," he says. I'm both surprised and relieved when he actually releases my arms. He plants both palms just above my shoulders on the mattress, every muscle and vein in his arms visible as he uses them for leverage instead.

My legs fall open wide, and he settles into a steady rhythm, biting his lip as he rolls his hips into me. My eyes run down his tattooed torso, and I watch his cock move in and out of my wet pussy.

I grip his forearm with my free hand and dig my heels into the mattress.

"You like watching my dick go in, Teagan?" he rasps.

"Yes," I tell him.

He groans, then picks up the pace, his hips thrusting into me more forcefully now. I let out a small, high-pitched scream as the head of his cock rubs against my g-spot.

"Fuck," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," I whimper, knowing I'm so close now. "I'm gonna…don't stop—"

His hand closes around my throat, cutting me off. "What about now?" he asks, still fucking into me at that same delicious pace. "Can you come with my hand wrapped around your throat?"

I nod, and he squeezes hard, thrusting into me a few more times before I come apart quietly and breathlessly around his dick; my eyes roll back in my head before he releases me.

"Teagan," he rasps as I gasp for air. "I'm about to come. You remember what I told you I was going to do when I finally got to fuck you?"

"Um…"

Yeah. I remember. He said he was going to come in all of my holes and make me cry.

"Well, I guess I already made you cry," he says. "Sorry about that. You've been fucked in the ass before, right?"

"Yes, but—"

He's too big. That's what I want to say.

He pushes my thighs up and pulls his wet cock out of me. When he thrusts forward again, the tip pushes into my ass.

"Luca!" I cry out. "Fuck!"

"The worst part is over, baby," he says, sinking into me. "I'll go easy on you. Just breathe through it. You feel so good—it won't take long."

Closing my eyes, I clench my teeth and breathe through it like he says, doing my best to relax.

"There you go," he says.

"It's so big," I force out.

"But you're doing so good…my good girl."

"Luca…" I whimper.

He thrusts into me hard and fast, not at all going easy on me. I writhe beneath him for a minute, attempting to find a position that will make it less intense, before I give up, letting my legs fall open and limp at my sides.

"Fuck," he groans. "Holy fuck."

I feel his cock jump inside me as he comes, his body shuddering against me. His free hand grips my hair, and he leans into me, digging his teeth into my shoulder, and I scream. Once he finishes, he pulls out and lies down on top of me, sweaty and out of breath.

"Luca?"

I'm almost afraid to ask.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take off the handcuffs now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? I need to use the bathroom. You can't just—"

He looks up at me and laughs. "I'm just kidding, Teagan. You'd think you'd be a little more relaxed now."

I don't know how to respond. I can't see how he'd think that was funny.

He grabs a key from the nightstand and unlocks the cuffs. "Is that better?"

I bring the hand into my body and rub my sore wrist. "Um, yeah. Do you have something I can wear?"

"Yep."

He kisses me before getting out of bed, walking over to the dresser, and tossing me a hoodie that almost reaches my knees. Once on my feet, I'm able to fully take inventory of all the muscles that ache.

It's pretty much all of them.

I use the bathroom, wash my face, and drink water directly from the faucet. When I walk back into the bedroom, Luca's wearing sweats and a t-shirt, his normal human costume back intact.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"It's 3:30," he says.

"What? In the afternoon?"

He shrugs. "Yeah. Are you hungry? I'm fucking starving."

"Um…yeah."

"Well, come on," he says. "I'll make you something."

"I need pants," I tell him.

He shrugs. "If you insist."

We stop at the room I'd shared with Layla, and I slip on a pair of underwear and my jeans before heading downstairs. Most of the others are in the main room and look like they've been crying. River's eyes are puffy. Alana looks physically ill, resting her head on Brady's shoulder.

I guess they know what happened to Layla.

Luca turns toward the kitchen, and I practically run to the couch and sink down next to River.

"I'm sorry," I tell her.

"Are you okay?" she asks me. "Brady said you saw it happen."

I shake my head. "No. Not in any way."

"Declan said it was beautiful and peaceful," River says, smiling through her tears. "He said he spent the night in the forest with her."

"Did she seem happy, Teagan?" Hazel asks.

"I don't…I'm not sure. I couldn't tell."

But I guess she did seem happy, didn't she? She smiled.

Alana scoffs and shakes her head. "I can't fucking do this."

She stands and kicks over the coffee table, sending a porcelain vase flying until it shatters on the marble floor. "This is just too fucked," she says before storming out of the room.

"Alana…" Brady calls after her.

"No, Brady," she says, looking back over her shoulder. "Just…no."

It's quiet as we watch her go, her footsteps echoing throughout the obscenely large space. No one tries to stop her again. They don't go after her.

"How's Luca?" River asks quietly.

"Umm…"

My mouth gapes. I don't even know where to start with that question.

"I told you he was intense," she says.

"Intense!?" I hiss. "I could have used a more specific warning than that. He's unhinged . He's like the Jekyll and Hyde of sex. He told me he loved me and made me sleep in handcuffs because I scared him. And you don't look surprised by any of that. "

She covers her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"And you're laughing!"

"Why are we laughing?" Luca asks, walking out of the kitchen. "What's funny?"

Brady and Hazel laugh, too.

"Nothing is fucking funny," I reply bitterly.

He sets a turkey sandwich and a water bottle down in front of me.

"I didn't know if you'd want coffee or water, so I brought you water, but I started some coffee," he says. "Do you want both?"

"Um, yeah. I do," I tell him.

He kisses me on the forehead. "Okay."

He walks back to the kitchen, and I chug half of the water and devour almost the entire sandwich before he comes back. I realize I probably look like a fucking animal; I can feel them all just watching me, but I don't give a fuck. I haven't eaten in almost twenty-four hours.

He sets a cup of coffee in front of me and sits down with his own food. "River, I need you to do me a favor," Luca says.

"Sure," she says. "What is it?"

"I'm going to have a car come and pick you up," he says. "I need you to go shopping and get some clothes for Teagan. I'll give you my card. You can get whatever you want, too."

"Oh, fun! What kind of clothes?"

He shrugs and takes a bite of his sandwich. "Stuff she likes."

"Can I go?" I ask.

He looks me up and down like maybe he's considering it. "I don't think that's a good idea, Teagan," he says. "Sorry, baby."

I sigh, defeated.

"Teagan's going home once we get to Seattle, so you might as well get used to not having her around now."

Declan's voice startles me. I remember how manic he was last night, how elated he was watching someone he called his family—someone who loved him even if he didn't love her back—bleed out on the ground.

I remember seeing her blood on his teeth when he smiled…right before he shoved his bloody fingers in my mouth. On instinct, I cling tightly to Luca's arm. This one might be insane, too, but he thinks he loves me. Maybe he can protect me.

The older brother's dark eyes drill holes through me. He looks like he wants to rip me apart with his teeth.

A smile spreads across his face as he breaks the gaze. "Why is everyone so sad? There's nothing to be sad about. Smile, Brady," he says.

"Um…are you serious?" Brady asks.

"Have you ever heard me tell a fucking joke, Brady?"

Brady forces a half smile in his direction.

"Why don't you guys understand that this is a celebration?" Declan says. "You know what? We're having a party. I'll call the others now. And where the fuck is Alana?"

"She went upstairs, Declan," Hazel says.

"Well, go fucking find her," he says. "I need to talk to her."

He starts to leave the room, then turns back and points to me. "And you. You and I are going to have a talk later, too, Teagan," he says. "Alone."

"Don't worry, Teagan," Luca says casually. "He's not going to do anything to you. He won't make you go, either. Not now."

I turn to reply and realize I'm still digging my nails into his forearm. When I release him, four little moon-shaped cuts fill with blood.

I remember what Layla said about what she'd done that upset Declan so much—she'd drawn blood from him.

"Oh my god," I say, panicking as I look from the tiny cuts to his face. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head and laughs. "It's okay, Teagan. I'm not my brother."

He runs his thumb over the deepest of the cuts and then wipes it on the inside of my lip. "See?" He leans forward and kisses my lips. "You should get her a bathing suit, too, Riv. Then she can go sit in the hot tub. It'll help with your back."

"My back is killing me, too," Brady says. "That's not a bad idea."

"You both need to toughen up," Luca says as he bites into his sandwich.

"I'm actually okay with not being in grave-digging shape," Brady says, standing to leave the room. "I don't want to bury any more of my friends in the backyard. And you need to give her some fucking space, Luca. Don't love-bomb her. You're scaring the shit out of her."

"What are you talking about? Teagan's fine," he says.

"I actually just…want to go lie down," I say, testing the waters, "and rest. Maybe read a little."

"I don't think—" Luca starts.

"That's fine, Teagan," River says quickly, shooting Luca a glare. "Go ahead."

"Yeah…okay," Luca says. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Okay," I say. Cautiously, slowly, I grab my coffee mug from the table—like if I move too quickly, I might trigger him again and end up back in handcuffs. "Thanks for the coffee…and the orgasms."

His worried expression relaxes into a smile, and I feel relief.

"Anytime," he says.

I close the door to Layla's room and almost flip the lock before remembering how pointless it is. Then, I pull my aching body into bed, open Stephen King's Doctor Sleep , one of my favorites, and stare at the pages.

I must have fallen asleep, because when River enters the room, it's dark outside again. Her arms are lined with shopping bags, and she sets them all down at the foot of the bed.

"Wait until you see everything I got," she says excitedly. "I hope you love it. I haven't been shopping in forever. Oh, and this bag has a couple of bikinis in it if you want to get in the hot tub."

"Thanks," I tell her.

I watch her take out each item and hold it up for me; there must be thousands of dollars worth of designer clothes in those bags. And she's—or he's—just giving them to me like it's nothing.

I pick up a pair of black denim pants with slits at the top of the thighs. "I love these," I say.

"Aren't they cute?" she says. "I thought they looked like you."

The price tag catches my eye—$790.

"Holy shit…"

"They won't even notice it," River says. "Seriously, don't even think about it. I spent a good amount of money on myself and Hazel, too. The woman following me around the store looked like she lost a bet or something when I pulled out that card, and it went through. It was hilarious."

"Yeah, I bet."

"People are going to start showing up soon," she says. "I don't know if you're in the mood to party, but Declan wants to see the rest of us celebrating, so I'd better go."

"I'm going to go get in the hot tub before they get here."

"Luca is going to ask me if you're okay."

"I'm still processing this shit," I tell her. "I watched her die, Riv. They didn't try to help her, they didn't cry. Declan was happy."

"I'm sure that was hard for you to see. I know you don't see life the way we do, but…she chose to die, Teagan. Life is precious and beautiful, and death is just as beautiful. Those are the only two true magics on Earth. Try to separate what society tells you is true from what you saw with your own eyes—was there no part of it that was beautiful?"

I start to replay the scene in my head for about the millionth time. I see the elation on Layla's face as she knelt in front of me, I see her float across the yard in a white nightgown, the moonlight reflecting off the knife in her hand. Her bloody smile when Declan laid down next to her in the grass and told her he forgave her.

If I think only of her and the agony she was in, I guess maybe I could see the beauty in it. She was the happiest I'd seen her, it was the end of her suffering.

In a way, it was…pure.

But he didn't tell her he loved her. And he didn't weep for her. After two years together, he thanked her for dying, and he was glad.

All over spilled blood. Alleged power.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I quickly put the image out of my mind. I can't think of death that way.

"Not to me," I tell her.

"Well…okay," she says. "I'm going to go put on some of my new clothes. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay."

She smiles and walks out the door, closing it behind her.

I change into one of my new bathing suits before quickly and quietly making it downstairs and out the door without anyone spotting me. Then, I sink into the spa on the back patio.

Just like Layla's death, it's peaceful without the context. Surrounded by dark forest and high mountains, I relax into the water, staring up at the clear night sky. You can see the stars here in a way you wouldn't be able to on the clearest night in Southern California. The absence of both actual and light pollution almost makes it seem like I've stepped onto another planet.

Kind of like Declan's book.

Of course, there is the context. Blood soaked into the soil merely thirty feet away from me. We burned our clothes in that fire last night.

And that clearing by the waterfall—that place where I went to escape, to find peace—well, there's a body there now.

Everyone keeps telling me to put those things out of my mind, to set aside society's preconceived notions about right and wrong, and just feel , but isn't that dangerous? Won't it make me less human?

Cold, heavy droplets of rain begin to fall from the sky just as music fills the mansion's first floor. I hear cars pulling up in the driveway around front and voices from inside. It's when they start to make their way outside and a couple of them, naked, slip into the hot tub that I decide to get out.

I wrap my towel around my body and step into the kitchen.

"Teagan."

I turn and see Declan leaning against the counter.

"We're going to have that talk now."

He strides toward me then grabs my arm and pulls me into a dark formal dining room, closing and locking the double doors behind us.

"I won't say anything."

"I know you won't," he says.

"You know, this would also be a really messy place to kill me," I tell him.

"Eh, not really," he says. "These floors aren't porous, and I'm not attached to that rug."

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

"You fucked my brother," he says. "I told you not to fuck him. Now, I have to punish you because you don't fucking listen."

"What? But I didn't—"

He grabs me by my hair and pins my head to the table.

"He won't like it if you hurt me," I tell him.

"I don't think he'll mind," he says.

With his other hand, he shows me his knife. "Don't you fucking move. Got it?"

"What are you…what are you going to do?"

His hands rest on my hips, and I hold my breath. It feels like he stays like that for minutes before he loops his fingers into the sides of my bikini bottoms and pulls them down my legs.

"Declan, no. Please don't! I didn't—"

I don't get to finish before I hear the smack. I cry out as my ass cheek burns.

Did he just…spank me?

"Ah!" I yell as his hand comes down again.

And again and again and again. Maybe fifteen times. I scream and grip the table hard in my hands, tears running down my cheeks.

When he stops, he leans over me, and I don't move.

"Now, we've both made you scream and cry, Teagan," he says.

He shows me his knife again; this time, he's holding onto the blade. Then, he runs the handle up my arm and down my spine. I gasp when I feel it run down my ass crack.

"Fuck, you're pretty," he says. "I'm so disappointed. I wanted so much more from you, and now I have to make you go. Do you have any idea how hard that is for me?"

He leans in, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear he's smelling my hair.

And then he shoves the handle inside my pussy. And I moan. I fucking moan.

"That's what I thought," he says, pulling it out. "Look at that—you're soaking wet."

He stabs the knife into the table next to my head.

"Get out," he says.

I sit up, scrambling backward, then bend down, grab my bottoms from around my ankles, and pull them back over me.

"Declan…" I start, even though I'm not sure how I'm going to finish the sentence.

"Now!"

I turn and unlock the double doors, then walk into a scene similar to the one a couple of nights ago. I scan the room and find Luca leaning against a back wall, talking to people I don't recognize.

I push through the crowd until I get to him and fall into his chest, wrapping my arms around him. Maybe he's insane, but he's beautiful and he's warm and he smells good. And he feels really good right now.

"Hey," he says. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," I tell him softly. "Luca?"

"What do you need?" he asks, running his hands through my hair.

"Will you come to bed with me?"

He smiles. "Yeah, I'll go to bed with you, Teagan."

He grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. "Be gentle with me," I tell him. "I'm hurt."

"Did my brother beat your ass, baby?"

Shocked, I can only nod. He just smiles, then kisses me. "I'll be careful," he says.

"You can fuck me, you can cut me, you can come wherever you want, but I'm not sleeping in fucking handcuffs. Okay?"

"Well, fuck. Okay." He narrows his eyes at me. "What about awake in handcuffs?"

"No. Maybe someday. When I feel like I can trust you to take them off."

"Deal," he says.

He kisses me again, then carries me up to his room and kicks the door closed behind us.