Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Ambrose

I NEEDED TO distance myself from the viral lust spreading through that house. I left Glory bound beside the kitchen table and came outside. I picked up my axe, and now, I’m taking out my aggressive desire on chunks of wood. Log after log, I place them on top of the tree stump in the center of the clearing just outside my front door.

Though the swing of my axe normally burns up my furious hostility, it fails to quell the brutality within me now. Except, this brutality isn’t hostile…it’s stained with lust.

I let out a primal roar of frustration, pain, and confusion with the final swing of my axe. The blade slices through the air with fury and wedges into the log with an echoing thud. The force of my blow is strong enough to split it down the middle. The splintered pieces fall, one half of the log tumbling off the stump into the snow.

My chest heaves as I bend to retrieve it, and when I stand, the movement from inside my home captures my attention. I can see Glory through the window, twisting and wriggling in her binds, and it twists and wriggles inside me, too.

The axe suddenly feels too heavy in my grip, and it slips through my fingers, dropping into the snow with a thump as it lands. Without conscious thought, my feet carry me back inside, move me across the floor, and bring me to a stop in front of Glory.

She’s fucking stunning this way, strung up with her hands tied above her head. Her dyed blonde hair shows her natural dark brown color at the roots, tangled and messy, and her striking green eyes stare at me wildly. My cock twitches at the sight of her, but it had already been thickening for Huxley.

I need to kill them.

I need to find out where their father is and kill them all.

But when I look at her, I cannot fathom the thought. All I can think about is the way her cunt felt with my fingers jammed inside, the way she came so hard, shuddering and twitching as it took hold of her. And the way Huxley tasted her on my fingers…

Fuck, I want them.

I want them more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone. There’s no logic to it, and it’s dangerous because I have to focus. My job is to kill them, get the money from Maura, and then I can be free of this place and its infectious hold on me.

But…

If I’m going to turn to the darkness and murder seemingly innocent creatures such as these two, then I ought to enjoy them while I still have them. I still don’t know where Beau Tolliver is, and I need to extract that information from them.

There’s no reason I can’t enjoy myself while I do it.

No reason…except for the little voice in the back of my mind.

I have to fight to ignore it, because it tells me to turn away from her, to stop looking down at her heaving chest, to stop thinking about her thick lips wrapped around my cock.

I reach out and twist my finger around a lock of her hair, twirling it, watching the way the fake blonde swirls against my knuckle. It’s soft, though it’s dirty.

That’s how she is, soft but dirty.

I want to share my filth with her.

Her head falls, tilting to the side and leaning closer to where my hand twirls her hair. She leans into my touch, not away from it, and fuck, that makes my dick throb, begging to be inside her.

She wants it.

Take her.

I let out a haggard, heated breath and reach for her wrists, my fingers scrambling to undo the knots that hold her in place. I want her down on the floor. I want her on all fours. I want to fuck her from behind and make her scream. I want Huxley to shut her up with his cock inside her mouth.

It would be easier to take the ropes down from the rafters first and untie her that way, but my impatient mind is overrun by the insistent need to have her now. If I were a fool, I could almost think she wants me, too. Her breaths quicken, her eyelids hood over her dilating pupils, and I feel the heat of her gaze as my fingers dig between knots, frantically working to tug and pull her free.

I sigh in relief as the last knot unwinds and her arms drop heavily to her sides. I’m ready to grab her, kiss her, pretend I have her affection for a few blissful moments of fucking and coming undone together. But then her eyes dart from me to the door and back again.

She’s going to run.

I lunge as she dives into a sprint, bolting for the front door that I stupidly didn’t lock behind me in my cock-hungry state. She grabs the knob and pulls, but I’m fast, too. My palm lands on the wood above her head, slamming it shut before she can wrench it open more than an inch.

She whirls around as I step in close, my body pinning hers against the door. I reach over and turn the deadbolt, then secure the chain lock as she watches me.

“Come on,” I goad, “hit me, little bird. Kick me. Fight me.”

It’s almost like she’s not even trying with the way she stares at me, blinking up at me with eyes that look deceptively innocent, eyes that are somehow also dulled by the pain of experience. I know the look because I see it in my own eyes when I look in the mirror, and I wonder what kind of pain her experience has brought her.

I bring my other palm up to join the first, pressing against the door, locking her head between them as I bend over her. She doesn’t look frightened, and I’m surprised by that. Given what I’ve done to her, fear is the only emotion she should feel.

My eyes are drawn to her throat as she swallows, and it makes me think about how fragile her slender neck is. It makes me want to wrap my hand around it and squeeze. It makes me want to lock her back up to keep her safe from anyone other than me who would try to harm her.

My fragile little bird.

I try once more to provoke her. “Come on, princess.”

And something snaps.

Her eyes narrow, hooding from wide-eyed prey to predator, and something dark paints shadows across her rosy cheeks.

“Don’t call me that. No more. Not ever again.” Her voice is twisted, gruff, and strained, filled with pain.

The pain resonates in my chest as familiar.

No more.

Not ever again.

The words themselves aren’t familiar, but I’m aware of the emotion behind them. I know with the angry sneer spread across her cheeks and the violent glow behind the bright green of her eyes that she’s been hurt like I’ve been hurt…and now she’s about to fight me.

I realize I’m going to have to react a half a second before she snaps, which catches me entirely off-guard. Her tiny hands come up to meet my chest, and she shoves me powerfully—surprisingly strong for such a tiny thing—and I stumble backward. I rush forward to capture her against the door again, but she’s gone before I can trap her. She darts around me and runs toward the kitchen, heading straight for…the oven? No, she’s heading for the block of knives on the counter beside it.

“Shit.”

I dart after her, reaching her quickly, and snake my arm around her hip, my forearm drawing a line across her pelvis as I roughly jerk her back.

“No!” she shouts as I lift her from the floor.

Her arms swing and her legs kick madly, and I wonder where this fight was before.

I triggered her. Something I said triggered her.

Princess.

I called her princess, and she snapped.

I can use that knowledge against her…though somehow, I know I won’t.

Pulling her backward, I drag her kicking and screaming down the hall. I’m taking her to my bedroom where I’m going to fucking tame this wildcat. At least, that’s my plan before she jams her heel into the crease of my thigh, barely missing my cock.

I flinch in surprise, groaning as my hold unintentionally loosens. She twists and flings, and with my grip momentarily slackened, she manages to break free, dropping from my arms. Her knees buckle as her feet hit the floor, and she falls forward, landing on all fours.

Fuck me.

“Glory!” I hear Huxley call as she crawls forward down the hall.

Her head turns as she moves in front of the cage room’s doorway. She must make eye contact with him because it somehow seems to calm her. She freezes, going unnaturally still given the way she was just fighting me, and after a moment, she sits back on her heels. Her head is still turned toward him as she submissively presses her palms to her knees.

Interesting.

Assuming her calmness, I reach down, preparing to slip my hands beneath her arms and lift her to her feet. That’s when she spins on one knee, planting her other foot on the floor, rising with swiftness and grace like a goddamn soldier, and comes after me to fight with fists and fury.

I catch one of her small fists in my palm as she swings for my gut. I twist her arm while our feet tangle together. She tumbles off-balance, tilting sideways before falling into the room where Huxley is caged. Her toes hook around my ankle on her way down and I stumble with her.

I brace myself, my palms slamming to the floor above her head as I land over her, my body making a bridge above her. Her foot lands on my thigh and shoves against it, forcing her body to slip backward along the floor. I slam my knees down to catch her hips between them, but she rolls onto her stomach and claws across the floor, moving toward the cage…toward Huxley.

Between the fight, the fury, and the sinful lust coursing through my veins, I devolve into a ravenous beast. Animal to animal, predator to prey, Glory’s internal sickness calls to mine.

Digging my fingers in like claws, I grab her waist, jerk her back, and flip her over. I slam my hips down to hold her to the floor, my hard cock against her belly warning her of the poison inside me—poison that could turn her and make her vile like me.

My chest heaves as I look down upon her reddened cheeks and my exhale scrapes harshly through the back of my throat, coming out as a breathy growl. She gasps as I drive my hips down, and her eyelids fall, drooping to hood the wild green as they soften far too easily from all-out war to surrender.

We stare at each other, and she tells me of her weakness with a quick dart of her tongue and a flicker of her eyes to my lips.

“Fuck,” the voice sounds gruff, lust-filled, like mine. But it’s not my voice…it’s Huxley.

My head turns naturally, something within me begging to see what his face looks like right now, but I hardly glimpse him. Glory’s hands are on my cheeks, turning me back, pulling me down, and drawing me into an unexpectedly eager kiss.

I part her lips with mine, and the strangled moan she feeds me ripples a wave of pure need down my spine. It pricks through my hips and burns down deep in my gut. My balls tighten as she bucks up against me, as her small, soft tongue battles past my teeth to taste me fully.

I hear the metal bars of the cage groan beneath Huxley’s grip, but all my other senses are with her. I taste her maple sweetness, smell her heady desire, see the darkness consume her before my eyes pinch shut, and I feel her…everywhere.

She’s everywhere.

Looming and threatening my present, my future.

My future is far from this place—away from Sugar Wood Forest—but I need Maura to set me free from the secrets she holds against me, from all the dirty work I’ve done for her. And I have to do this one last job to be free. I have to kill them.

Stop.

Stop this now.

Throw her into the cage before you attach yourself to your prey.

My body trembles with need as I reach into my pocket with one hand, pulling out the key that opens the cage door. The ground shudders beneath us as I painfully drag my lips from hers, as I sit back on my heels and reach around behind her bewildered face to fist her fake blonde hair.

She shrieks in surprise as I drag her awkwardly along the floor, both of us twisting and scooting and fighting for control. I’m on one knee in front of the cage door as she kicks behind me. She reaches for my wrist, trying to knock it away from her hair, but she has no leverage with her ass on the floor.

She kicks her tiny feet, trying to find purchase, though they only slip and strike over the hardwood. By the time she manages to get one foot planted, I have the cage door open wide. I shove to my feet with a grunt, and she screams out again as her hair comes with me as I yank her upright to her feet.

I toss her inside so violently that her shoulder slams into the back wall with a resounding thud, which makes her shout and wince. The sight of her face as it scrunches in pain makes my body tighten with guilty tension. I muster every ounce of strength inside me to slam that cage door shut, to turn the lock, to pull out the key.

Glory slumps to the floor and Huxley drops with her. They both snap their heads to look at me at the same time.

Don’t look at them.

Focus on your freedom.

I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth, panting as I slowly back away while staring at a spot on the wall above their heads. “Don’t fuck with me,” I tell them. “I’ll…” my voice shakes, and I fight to steady it, “I’ll be back. And when I return, I want some goddamn answers about Beau Tolliver.”