45

45

KADE

Ican’t go down and see her. Does that make me weak?

When we first got here three weeks ago, I had to see with my own eyes that Bernadette was incapacitated. For peace of mind, knowing the army that followed her for years was dead and no one was looking for her, I needed to see her caged and no longer a threat to me and everyone I love.

But the thought of going down there, where she screams for help and calls my dad and Base every name under the sun at the top of her lungs, makes me physically ill.

Not that I’m scared or nervous to see her. I’m not. The torture she’s going through right now brings me joy, but if I go down there, I’ll strangle her so fucking tightly, I’ll decapitate her and put her head in the freezer too.

The number of daydreams I’ve had, imagining myself ending her pathetic life, should be questioned. Maybe I need stronger meds?

My anxiety has lessened. I don’t black out anywhere near as much as I used to, and there’s been no seizures, or dissociation that I’m aware of. Most of all, I’ve been getting more than enough sleep.

Stacey makes me go to bed at the most fucking ridiculous hours. Three in the afternoon and she wants to nap? I go with her. If she falls asleep on the sofa while we all watch TV, I carry her to bed and cuddle her until my eyes close. Once her legs healed, we started walking through the forest with the dogs, and one time, we fell asleep under a damn tree while talking about our future.

I’ve never slept so much in my life.

But still, I won’t go down to that room and look at Bernadette. She’s being fed but only scraps of what we don’t eat, and she gets one glass of water a day – just enough to keep her alive but weak enough that she’s out cold most of the time. The more weight she loses, the larger the cage looks.

I know this because Stacey goes down there a lot without telling me – I find out as soon as she gets back to our room. She’ll sometimes just sit in front of the cage and not speak, enjoying the view of the woman who tried to take everything from us. Other times, Stacey tells her stories about us and watches the way Bernadette twists with jealousy. All Bernadette managed to say was, “You aren’t good enough for Kade.”

Asshole of a woman. Does she not realise Stacey is better than us all? Even if she did stab her in the foot then leave the blade in until the wound got infected. She hasn’t gone back down since.

Barry’s gone home several times. He had to take the tunnels so he wouldn’t be spotted. Not that he’s even in the limelight or known to the authorities, but he wasn’t taking chances. He also brought the ultrasound machine so Luciella could hear the baby’s heartbeat – which was strong and clear as day. Not that any of us knew how to fucking work the thing.

Base’s eyes lit up in a way I’ve never seen.

I know he’s nervous. Luciella has begged him to accept he’s going to be a father, but he told me last night, while drunk off his ass, that he doesn’t think he’ll be a good parent. That he’ll fuck it all up because he can barely control his own life.

But Dad told him he can’t be more of a fuck-up than him – the only time he’s spoken to my best friend without threatening him.

Despite what they both say about themselves, I knowI’ll be a damn good father. My kid will come first, forever and always. All I need to do is kill one last person and I’m done with that life. I’m getting my shit together for myself and Stacey.

Just to make things ten times better, Stacey is spending more time with my sister than she is with me, and Base is glued to my side. Whenever my dad tries to talk to me, Base attempts to fit into the conversation by being his usual talkative, hyperactive self, but Dad just glares at him until he shuts up.

Base acts like a devoted puppy that never knows where the line is drawn, but he’s the opposite.

For starters, he’s an animal in bed. We were forced into so many threesomes together, and the guy is into some primal shit that even made me baulk and wonder if he’d kill someone during it. He even stabbed a guy in the ribs once while… you know.

Despite his soft side, Base is a scary motherfucker. I’m extremely glad we don’t need to do anything intimate anymore, because even though I never, ever, ever let him fuck me, I knew it was only a matter of time until Bernadette ordered it.

As much as it was forced upon us, we tried to keep ourselves together. We’d tell each other over and over that she wouldn’t break us. When we were on each other, we’d promise not to let it ruin the friendship we’d built since we were kids.

I was always the receiver. Always. I think Bernadette liked it that way.

I would never have survived going through all of that without Base.

I watched him kill relentlessly, and when Bernadette first forced him to get into her bed, he chucked a vase at her head and got himself tied to the headboard for it. The entire time Bernadette had her mouth on him, he threw insults at her, drove his knee into her face and told her she was terrible at blowjobs. And when he refused to do as he was told, she made him fight with guards until he passed out from blood loss. Most of the time, I joined in when he grew weak and was losing, but then they started restraining me and making me watch him get beat up.

We went through the wringer with that woman, and she probably thought she’d break our friendship, but in all honesty, I trust Base with my life now more than ever. Even if he likes to occasionally embarrass me in front of my girl by asking her if I gyrate my hips with her like I did when he had his mouth on my cock. Or if I make a certain noise when I cum. If I kiss her as passionately as I kissed him.

Despite it being a trauma response for him to be brutally annoying about the subject, I punched him for that. An hour later, when Luciella found out I hit him, she barged into my room, threw a shoe at me and called me an asshole for giving him a black eye and swollen jaw.

Dad asked why we were fighting, but no one would tell him.

Base will never stop being Base. Because dark humour is his thing when he’s mentally drowning.

He leans against a tree outside the building while we wait on the dogs doing their business and getting some fresh air. It’s raining, both of us soaked through, but the silence is good.

“Is Tobester cooking steak?” he asks, ruining the mood.

I wince. “Please don’t call him that. He’ll chase you with an axe again.”

Base bounces on his heels and inhales deeply. “He’s making steak. I’m going for a bite.”

I huff and whistle for the dogs to come as I follow my friend into the kitchen, stopping in my tracks when I see my dad wearing rubber gloves and a plastic apron. The dust mask only confirms what he’s doing.

But regardless of the scene, Base walks straight over to the stove and looks down at the meat. “Where’d you pull that from?”

He reaches for a piece, but my dad snatches his wrist. “Unless you’ve decided to take up cannibalism, I highly suggest you keep your filthy paws off.”

It takes Base a second to click, and then he backs away in disgust. “Oh, what the fuck? You’re cooking bits of Archie?” He steps behind me as if I’m a shield. “Kade, your dad is more insane than I thought.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I have no idea why you’re surprised. Why else do you think he took the time, during all the chaos, to go back for the buckets?”

“I don’t fucking know! This is disgusting. Why are you acting so calm? Your dad is cooking body parts!”

Dad chuckles while flipping the meat in the frying pan. “There’s normal food in the fridge.”

Base inches forward. He’s not domesticated in the slightest and never goes in there, so I lean against the wall and wait for it. I spotted earlier that Dad had moved Bernadette’s driver’s head out of the freezer to defrost. Maybe he’s planning on feeding that to her as well.

As soon as he opens the fridge and sees the melting head inside, he gags, slams the fridge door and runs out the room yelling that we’re all going to die.

“He’s a little dramatic,” Dad says, shaking his head. “You need better friends.”

I shrug, glancing at Barry as he walks into the kitchen, unfazed by the sight before him. “How are Lisa and Eva?”

“Fine. She had some cramping, so we had her up at the hospital for an emergency ultrasound, but all good.”

He crosses his arms, looking over at my dad. “Why are you cooking human meat?”

“You’ll see. Can you bring Bernadette up?”

I flatten my lips as Barry huffs and goes to the basement. “You’re going to feed her Archie’s body parts, aren’t you?”

“She won’t know until after. A little surprise for her,” he says, flipping over a chunk to fry the other side. “You can’t say much. Look what you did to Christopher.”

I hum in response.

“I called your mother.”

My eyes widen as I drop my arms to my sides. “Are you insane? We said it was too risky to reach out to her.”

“I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to hear her voice.”

“Still risking our location.” Sighing, I sit down at the table. “Have you decided against not telling her you’re alive then?”

“No,” he replies instantly, staring down at the sizzling human flesh. “But she should know her children are alive. It’s not fair that she believes she’s lost you and Luciella too.”

They’re still searching the remains of the manor, hunting for evidence, but it’s assumed that we’re dead – consumed by the explosion or the fire. I feel terrible that my mum and Ewan will think that, and even Dez and Tylar, but we need to stay hidden until we deal with Bernadette the way she deserves. Then we’ll come out of the dark. And only then will we get to move on and find peace in our fucked-up lives. I get to go build that house for Stacey and our future kids. I’ll make a swing, build a tree house, and I’ll be there every second of their lives.

“I told you, it’s too risky,” I say, glancing at Barry as he drags Bernadette by the arm along the floor. “She’s in protection right now. Her phone might be traced. You calling her might have alerted the authorities that we’re here and alive.”

Barry drops Bernadette on the ground. She’s groggy, smelly and her hair is matted at the back of her head. Good.

“She’s in protection in Ireland with Ewan,” my assistant says. “Tylar and Desmond are with them too. From what I can see on their reports, they’re just being cautious. The protection is set to end shortly.” Barry folds his arms and crosses his ankles. “The manor is gone. It collapsed completely a few hours after you escaped. The chances of them finding anything is low.”

“Is Stacey still sleeping on the couch with Luciella?”

Barry shakes his head. “She’s in the shower room. The dogs are sleeping outside the door.” He looks over at my dad, then at the buckets, then to Bernadette and lets out a low sigh. “I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t joke,” my dad replies. “Surely you know this by now?”

Barry only slightly shakes his head and raises his eyebrows at me. I pat his shoulder as I walk past and go get Base. He should be here when she realises she just ate her husband.

The dogs lift their heads when they see me making my way to his bedroom. Stacey’s still showering. She usually takes an hour minimum when she’s in there herself. I want to go in and kiss her against the tiles, but I stop a few doors away.

Base is being sick in the bathroom.

“Bernadette is in the kitchen,” I say to him. “Come watch her eat Archie.”

“Fuck,” he replies, spitting into the toilet bowl. “I have a strong stomach, but fuck.”

“Let’s go,” I reply, tossing him a face cloth to wipe his mouth. “We watch her suffer together.”

I lean against the doorframe while he brushes his teeth and takes a few deep breaths, staring into the mirror. Then he pushes off the sink, shakes himself off and follows me to the kitchen.

We both pause in the doorway, seeing Barry lifting Bernadette into the chair, the cooked human meat on a plate in front of her. Her head lolls to the side as Tobias stabs her in the arm with a syringe and pushes the plunger to empty the contents into her system.

A few minutes later, Bernadette’s eyes lift to me, and they widen a little. “K-Kade.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me.”

“After everything I’ve done for you?” She’s slurring her words, slobber down her chin. The adrenaline Dad gave her is kicking in. “You’re going to allow them to treat me this way?” She sneers. “You’re better than that.”

Base blows out a breath and manages a laugh, and all I do is stare at her as if it will burn a hole in her face. Dad washes his hands in the sink, kicks aside the bucket then leans against the counter – silent. Deadly silent.

“Eat,” Barry says. “This is the only courtesy we’ll give you. You’re growing weaker, and we aren’t kind enough to let you die yet.” He cuts a strip of meat from the chunk on the plate and lifts it to Bernadette’s mouth. “Eat.”

Her lips part, and Base grimaces and turns away. Her eyes are on me. Burning into me. Fucking watching me like I’m going to help her.

She chews and swallows. Then she takes another bite and another and another, until the chunk is gone. Barry tips water into her mouth, but only a little, pulling the glass away when she chases it.

Dad tilts his head. “How did he taste?”

She glares at him, weak, then glances down at the plate. Her eyes lift to me.

Base steps forward. “He asked you a motherfucking question, bitch. How did your husband taste?”

Her brows pull together in a confused frown, her bones shaking. “W-What?”

Base grins. “I think you ate a part of his leg.”

“Yep,” Dad says. “But we can’t be sure since Kade blew him up with a grenade in his mouth.”

She vomits all over the table and passes out.

For two days, Bernadette is forced to eat her husband until we decide what’s next on our let’s-torture-Bernadette-until-we’re-bored plan.

Base came up with this next part. And I agree. Luciella and Stacey are inside helping Dad tidy up, Barry is sleeping and the dogs are playing in the shallow river in front of us.

“We’re not here to talk,” Base says, dropping Bernadette on the ground next to the river. “We’re going to play a little game. We like games, don’t we, Kade?”

“Yeah.” I smirk and cross my arms. “You loved to play games too. Didn’t you, Bernadette?”

She doesn’t say a word, but her eyes are pleading with me. She’s delusional if she thinks I’ll help her. She’s still in her dress. Still dirty as hell. So when Base told me his plan, I dived into it.

Base grabs her by the throat and lifts her off her feet. Then he walks into the river with her and smashes her into the surface, holding her under while her hands slap at his arms. Her body is so frail and weak; I’m used to her being a little curvy and tanned and always walking about in stilettos while issuing orders.

She looks so fucking pathetic.

Base pulls her from the water enough for her to choke and gasp. “We should’ve brought some soap. She’s disgusting.”

“I don’t think that’ll help.”

“Nah,” Base replies, shoving her back into the water. “Being rotten comes naturally to her. Do you want a shot?”

I shake my head. “I’ll kill her if I go near her.”

Base lifts her from the water, walks back out with her and drops her on the ground. “Beg for his forgiveness,” he snaps, yanking her head up by grabbing her nested hair. “Tell him you’re fucking sorry.”

“K-Kade,” she coughs. “Please.”

Something snaps in my head, and I drive my foot into her face, bursting her nose and causing blood to piss down her mouth. I want to hit her again, but I fist my hands.

Base sees me struggling to keep it together and opens the bottle of vodka he had sitting to the side, crouches beside her and grabs her jaw to pry it open, then upends the bottle so she chokes on the strong spirit. He shoves the neck of the bottle as far as he can into her mouth, so she’s deep-throating it. I can see her throat contracting around it as vodka spurts up, coming out her nose, puddling in her eyes.

Her pulse is racing in her neck. Her eyes are wide despite being filled with the strong spirit.

I move forward and wrap my fingers around her throat while Base keeps the bottle in place. I squeeze, and I can see the pressure building behind her eyes. “How does it feel to have your control taken away?” I ask, not really needing an answer. “You feel powerless as your lungs beg for fucking oxygen.”

“You’re going to kill her,” Base says, pulling the bottle out of her throat, which only makes me tighten my grip. “If you don’t want to yet, then stop.”

I let go, stepping back, my heart racing in my chest with adrenaline. She gags and spits and coughs as much up as she can, vodka no doubt stinging her eyes and nose. The projectile vomit nearly hits Base. He flies back in revulsion.

Once she stops spewing, he steps forward, crouching in front of her. “Do you remember doing that to me? You made me stand still after forcing me to down two bottles, and if I stumbled, you used a taser on me.”

My head snaps to him as he stands straight. “I didn’t know that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know. You were in France working. I ended up in her little hospital wing for a week because of that night.”

I knew other shit happened, but I always assumed it was the same stuff we always went through.

“Stand the fuck up,” Base demands, and I can see the rage building in his eyes. He tosses the empty bottle into the water behind her while the dogs paddle around. “Stand. Up!”

Bernadette lets out a sob as she pushes to her knees, her body weakly doing as it’s told as she gets to her feet, staggering to the side. She tries to grab Base’s hand to help herself stay put, looking pathetic, but he slaps her arm away.

“Don’t touch me. You’ll never touch me again.”

“You won’t win,” she says in a shaky voice, the alcohol starting to take control. She’s looking right at me. “You won’t break me. My team will find me, and you’ll all be dead.”

I scoff. “Funny. Your little minions are gone, and there isn’t a competition to win. It’s just us and you, and everything we have to do to you as payback.”

Base comes up beside me. “Get into the water,” he says, gesturing behind her. “I want you to drown yourself.”

Somehow she manages to pale even further. “N-No.”

Base sighs and shoves her so hard, I hear the air rush out of her lungs as she catapults backwards into the water. Her head hits a rock, and she struggles to keep herself up. It’s shallow, about knee deep, but for some reason, she’s unable to stand.

There’s blood coming from her head too. Maybe she hit the rock too hard? I don’t care.

Base chuckles beside me. “I won’t let her actually drown,” he says. “But check out how ridiculous she looks.”

She does look ridiculous, desperately trying to stand up and failing, her lungs filling with water as she thrashes.

“She’s not really trying anymore,” Base says, tutting. “Right, let’s get her back inside. She’s making me cringe.”

I shake my head, and we both grab an arm each, then he pulls her dress down over her bony ass. We drag her all the way into the building, the dogs following, then down into the basement before shoving her into the cage for her to shiver.

There’s no heating down here, and she’s soaked from the river.

“He belongs to me,” she whispers to Base, her eyes going in all directions. “He w-was mine all those n-n-nights we spent together. You were n-never enough for him, Sebastian.”

He scoffs. “Are you for real? Who the fuck was the one getting him off when you failed to?”

I roll my eyes, but he’s not wrong.

“You tried and failed to ruin our friendship. He is mine. He’s my best friend and the brother I never knew I needed. The only thing that’s yours is your shame and your disgusting life – what little is left of it anyway.”

Despite the pain and alcohol in her system, she laughs. “You have no idea what he needs.”

Base turns to look at me. “I think even if I sucked you off in front of her, she’d still think the same.”

I nod once and look away from him, staring at the sad excuse for a woman before us. She narrows her eyes at me. “Tell him I w-was enough. You… you don’t need that whore either.”

I grit my teeth. “Her name is—”

I glance up when I hear the door open. The beautiful woman in question is standing there in her PJs, her hair wet. “Oh, sorry. I was just seeing if you were down here.”

I kick off the wall and approach my girl, turning to Bernie as I pull Stacey to my side. “You see how beautiful she is? I need her more than I need fucking air.”

Base hums. “Did you know she thinks she’s enough for him, Stacey?”

Stacey glances between us. “How silly.”

My friend grabs Stacey’s hand and places it right over my cock. “I think we should prove just how wrong she is,” he says, and despite it being both their hands on me, my dick reacts. “We should prove that we’re both enough for him.”