36. Layne

Chapter thirty-six

Layne

I stand before the man that haunts my dreams, only now I am the one in control. He sits tied to the same chair my father sat in. I want to vomit looking at him. Every word he has ever uttered in my ear replays in my head. My skin crawls thinking about how his hands touched my body, his fingers explored parts of me he never should have.

“ Ma Petite Mort ,“ Wes’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I look up at him, his eyes search mine. “Are you ready?”

No. But also yes.

I take a deep breath and nod.

Wes shoves a syringe into Bannister’s neck, pushing down on the plunger. It takes a few moments for the medication to pull him out of it. His eyes flutter open and he focuses on me. Bannister shakes his head as if to clear the fog, then tilts his head to the side to take me in. He almost immediately recognizes me.

“Laney-Bear?” His groggy voice asks.

“I am not your Laney-Bear.” I spit. “I was never yours. ”

“I would recognize you at any age.” The realization hits him as he squirms uncomfortably in the chair, his movements restricted by the tight knots securing him. “Is this really necessary?”

Wes steps out from behind him. “Yeah, I’m gonna say it is. You kind of have a thing for raping women. So, to make me feel better about you being around my wife, tied up is how you’ll stay. Got it?“ Wes slaps Bannister shoulder, then moves to come stand by my side.

“You’re the cop that pulled me over.” Fear and realization flickered across Bannister’s face as his eyes widened. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t break free from his restraints. I can see the panic in his eyes, the desperation to escape. But this time, he’s the one who’s helpless.

I take a step closer to him, my anger fueling my words. “You thought you could get away with what you did to me? I was just a little girl!” I draw my open hand back, bringing it forward and slapping him across the face. His head swings back from the impact. “I died because of you. I struggle to live every single fucking day because of the trauma. You..” I slap him again. “You stole my innocence.”

“Hey, hey, now. I never raped you.” He sneers. “But god I wanted too. Your perfect little body. They way you would whine and cry when I would touch you. Do you remember Laney-Bear? Do you remember what my fingers feel like inside of you? Does your husband know I was the one who made you come for the first time?”

Wes cracks his knuckles, flexing his hands at his side. I look over and can see the restraint all over his face. He wants to hurt him. I fight hard to resist the pull of the memories, like a current trying to drag me under. The memories tug at my mind, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

Don’t fall, Layne. Fight.

“Laney-Bear, it felt so good, didn’t it? You laid there like a good girl for me, you wanted it.”

“NO,” I scream. “I didn’t want it. What thirteen-year-old girl wants the drug dealer her parents score their drugs from to molest her?”

Wes’s presence beside me gives me strength, reminding me I’m not alone in this anymore. He stands tall, strong, and resolute. My Buainteoir, my Reaper , my husband. “You thought you could hurt my wife and get away with it?“ He sucks his teeth. “Yeah, no. Not a chance. This is just the beginning of your punishment.”

Bannister’s voice trembles as he speaks, his attempt at defiance feeble. “You can’t keep me tied up forever. Someone will find me.”

Wes smirks, his eyes filled with righteous anger. “Oh, we’re not planning on keeping you tied up forever. We have something much more fitting in mind for you.”

Bannister’s face pales at Wes’s words. His confidence shattered. He realizes the gravity of his actions and the consequences that await him. The tables have turned, and he’s now the one at our mercy.

“What would you like to take back first, Ma Petite Mort ?“ Wes moves around Bannister, the workbench where an assortment of tools await their use. “His words, or how about his touch? We’ll leave his eyes for the very end. I want him to see everything that we’ll do to him.”

“His touch.” My voice cracks. “I don’t want to feel his touch anymore.”

“ As you wish ,“ Wes winks, bowing before me.

God, he’s such a nerd.

He walks back over to me, handing me a handsaw. “Now, you’re going to want to cut right above the wrist bone.” He shows me on Bannister’s wrist. “Right here.”

Bannister tries to spit at him, it dribbles down his chin instead. Wes reaches behind Bannister and smacks him upside the head, jutting his head forward. “Let’s have some manners, fuckface.”

I snort. My husband and his colorful insults. My body shakes with laughter. “Fuckface?” I smile at him .

“God, I love seeing you smile, Layne.”

I step toward Bannister, looking down at him. “This is for every time you touched me. Hands that had no right to touch my skin, fingers that should have never felt inside of me.” The sharp edges of the saw touch his skin.

“Wait, wait…don’t do it, Laney. I’m just a sick man. It’s all in my head… I couldn’t help it.” He pleads with me, but his words fall on deaf ears as I inch the saw forward, the jagged edges piercing through his flesh.

Blood drips from his wrist as he begins to scream and curse at me.

“Fuuuuck, you stupid fucking cunt.”

I keep sawing. The resistance from the bone is giving me trouble, so I try to push all my weight into it. A snap and the bone breaks. His hand now hangs off of his arm by a thin sliver of skin. Blood pools on the plastic sheet beneath us. Euphoria flows through me. I never thought that taking back my power would ever make me feel this way.

My hands tremble as I saw through Bannister’s other wrist. The mixture of fear, anger, and adrenaline courses through my veins. Each pull of the saw brings me closer to reclaiming my autonomy, to erase the scars he left in my mind and soul.

Bannister’s screams echo in the room, a symphony of agony that is music to my ears. His pleas for mercy are drowned out by the deafening roar of my own empowerment. I refuse to let him diminish the strength I’ve found within myself. The strength Wes has given me.

Wes watches silently, his presence a comforting reassurance that I’m no longer alone. I am no longer a victim, but a survivor.

Corbin Bannister can no longer hurt me.

Wes moves forward, his eyes filled with satisfaction. “You are so strong, baby. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

I’m proud of myself too. Right now, I am not the broken little girl. I am strong. I am wanted and loved .

Wes takes the saw from my trembling hands, his own hands now stained with blood. The same hands that bring me such tender love and care, covered in the man’s blood whose words and action pull me away from him. Wes drops the saw to the ground, his hands now on my thighs. I feel his hand grasp one blade from my harness. He glides the tip up my thigh, sending a shiver through me.

“Silence him. For all the disgusting words he’s ever whispered to you in the dark. The words I know replay in your mind.” Wes sets the blade in my palm, gently closing my fingers around the hilt.

“What if he bites me?” I look over at Bannister. He’s looking pretty pale from the blood loss. “We probably need to work fast. He looks like he’s dying.”

“Two seconds,” Wes says, holding up two fingers. Running towards the workbench, he grabs a hot metal plate that has been sitting in a metal basin. “Step aside, baby. And plug your nose, this isn’t gonna smell good.”

I step to the side and watch as Wes presses the hot plate to Bannister’s wrist. The smell of singed flesh makes its way up my nose and I immediately want to throw up. Bannister’s screams fill the warehouse and I look around at the walls, hoping this place is soundproof. Wes finishes up Bannister’s other wrist and now the bleeding has stopped and all that remains is the charred flesh of his nubby little arms.

Wes moves to stand behind Bannister, grabbing his greasy hair and jolting him back awake. “If you bite my wife, I will shove your severed hand so far up your ass that you’ll feel it in your intestines.”

Wes nods for me to come over. I stand before Bannister, thinking of every nasty thing he ever said to me. The words play over and over. Things a little girl should never hear.

“I bet this little pussy feels like heaven.”

“Soon I’ll have you crying while my cock is inside you. Your little pussy, ass, and mouth. ”

“You’re mine, Laney-Bear. You belong to me.”

“Baby,” Wes says sweetly. My eyes snap to his, my breathing rough and uneven.

“Shove the blade in his mouth and cut down. The tongue is a tough muscle to cut through.”

I look Bannister in the eyes. “Your words can’t hurt me anymore.”

Wes pries his mouth open and I shove the knife in, slicing through the thick muscle. Blood pours out of his mouth, he screams and blood sprays over our faces. I reach into his mouth and produce his severed tongue Wes straightens Bannister, his head lolling from side to side. “Can’t speak your filth when you have no tongue.”

This is a cathartic release, a way to regain control over the memories that have haunted me for so long.

I inspect his tongue before tossing over my shoulder, shrugging. Wes cracks a wide smile, his perfectly straight teeth showing. “You ready to take his eyes, baby?”

The thought of removing his eyes makes my stomach turn. I shake my head. “I don’t think I can,” I say with a heavy sigh.

In a fit of disgust, Wes forcefully releases Bannister’s head and steps closer to me. His touch on my cheek is gentle, reassuring. “Would you like me to do it?” he asks softly.

“Would you?” I look up at him through my lashes.

“ As you wish, Ma Petite Mort ,“ Wes says, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He’s willing to do anything for me, to help me heal and regain control over my life.

I watch him prepare to remove Bannister’s eyes. He grabs something from his workbench and steps in front of me. Shielding me from what he is about to do.

“These eyes never deserved to look at her. So now I am going to take them from you, and before she kills you, I’m gonna make you fucking eat them.“ Wes takes whatever tool he has in his hand and the shrill screams reverberate off the warehouse walls.

I move forward and notice what Wes is using to take out Bannister’s eyes.

“Wes, what the fuck? That’s my cookie scoop!” I smack his arm just as he pulls the second eye from the socket, the nerves snapping.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He says, looking at me, then back down to the scoop. “A better one.”

He opens Bannister’s mouth and shoves his bloody eyeballs in his mouth. “Chew, motherfucker.”

Bannister gags as Wes holds his hand over his mouth. He doesn’t chew. Blood drips from his empty eye sockets onto his shirt. The sight makes my stomach turn. Wes is in his element. The torture and dismemberment is so his thing. And I love watching him do what he does best.

“How do you want him to die, baby?” Wes looks back at me, his face covered in blood spatter.

I grab the second blade from my harness, twirling it around my fingers. Wes moves aside and I stand in front of Bannister. “The pain you caused me my entire childhood does not even amount to the pain you are going through right now. You are momentarily in pain. I have been in agonizing pain for years. Living daily in a metal prison, with no escape. Hopefully now I can move on.” I look down and unbuckle his pants, pulling out his tiny, flaccid dick.

“You won’t be needing this.” I pull it taut and slice through the flesh, his screams muffled by the blood and eyeballs in his mouth. Dropping the severed cock to the floor, I stomp on it, even though I know he can’t feel it. The flow of crimson liquid flows from the wound at a steady pace. I look up at Wes. “Let him bleed out.”

“You look so fucking sexy covered in blood, Ma Petite Mort.” Wes groans, leaning back against his workbench. “Come here,” he motions for me to come over to him. I see the look in his eyes. I smirk, knowing exactly what he wants.

“You want me, baby?” I tease, twirling my blade between my fingers.

“I always want you. There will never be a day I don’t want you, Layne. I’ll love you till death, and even then when our bodies are food for the worms. My soul will find yours, and I’ll want and love you in the afterlife.”

“Crawl to me,” looking him dead in the eyes. “Will the Buainteoir crawl for his little death?”

Wes drops to his knees. He leans forward, placing his hand on the ground, keeping his eyes on up at me. He crawls. Wes Larimore crawls to me. Stopping at my feet, he sits back on his haunches. “What now, Ma Petite Mort ?”

“I want you to take me upstairs, wash all this blood off of us and fuck me.” Wes shoots to his feet, picking me up, wrapping my legs around him as I go for his neck. My relentless sucking and biting leave a trail of marks all over him.

He climbs the stairs, and once we are in the loft, he takes us straight to the bathroom. Wes sets me on my feet and we strip, stepping into the shower and turning it on. Not giving it time to heat up.

“How’s that saying go?” He breathes into our kiss. “Couples that clean blood off each other, slay together?”

I roll my eyes. “They stay together. Not slay.“ I smile into his lips.

Wes pulls back and cocks his head to the side, “But don’t they?”

I just laugh. Wes picks me up and the hot water hits my back as he walks up toward the tile wall. The water turning red as it swirls down the drain. Washing away the past and making us clean again.

“You’re my pretty little slut, aren’t you, baby?” Wes whispers seductively in my ear. “You only get wet for your husband’s cock. Show me how much you love it. I want your pretty little pussy covering me in your cum.” His cock slide into my pussy, “That’s it, Layne.” As Wes drives into me, I whimper and he says, “You’re going to take my cock like the good little slut you are.”

“Wes,” I cry out, kissing his face then his lips. “Every part of me is yours.”

“And I’m all yours, Layne. Never forget that. I’ve killed for you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Thrust after thrust, he brings me closer to orgasm. “You’re mine. My wife. The mother of my unborn children. My soulmate.”

I cry as my orgasm shatters me from the inside. I can’t help the tears that fall down my cheeks.

“That’s it beautiful, let it all go.” He captures my lips in a tender kiss. “Let it all go.”