"Wait a goddamn minute," I hiss. "What about Lily Anna?"
"Your little story about the dead girl?" He shakes his head. "I don't buy it."
My nails dig into the palms of my hands. "You have to believe me. She's the one who killed Lai, and she's fucking dangerous. She could, and will, kill again. And I think Pandora is her next victim."
He ignores me, calling for two security guards to enter the office. They haul me up and I resist them, demanding for my voice to be heard. But the detective makes the officers restrain me. He walks right up to me and smirks in my face.
"You and your twisted founding family are the reason this town is a fucking trainwreck," he tells me coolly. "And I'll do everything in my power to put you behind bars, where you belong."
He walks off before I get the chance to reply. The guards usher me into a group shower. I'm forced to stand under the harsh cold water, then given an orange uniform to change into. The handcuffs are back again, and I'm guided into a cell. At least there's only one bed—a small mercy. But it only serves to remind me these people think I'm dangerous. A fucking killer.
Collapsing on the paper-thin mattress, I stare at the wall where obscene messages have been carved into stone and brick. I feel sick. My life took a turn in a series of events I couldn't have anticipated.
And yet my main worry is Pandora.
My stomach twists with the thought of her seeing that photo plastered all over the school. She must have felt so betrayed.
And now, Lily Anna is out there too, and she's determined to hurt my toy and bring justice to the town that has destroyed us all.
Life as I knew it is over. The only hope of getting the fuck out of here I have now is Emilian Oakes—and I have a feeling he doesn't give a shit whether I rot in jail or not, especially after finding out Lily Anna is alive and that I've been keeping her locked up for years.
My mind is filled with memories. Images of Pandora lift me up and bring me crashing down the next second. My own confusing feelings for the girl make me feel sick. I can't love her. I don't love anyone. I can't afford to—not when it would cost me everything.
But the thought of her won't leave me. I imagine her face. Her body. Every nook and cranny of her, explored, claimed in my name. My property. And now she's gone, and I'm behind bars. And yet the only thing I give a fuck about is her safety.
I make a deal with God then and there, even though I've never been religious. But thinking of the danger my toy is in makes me desperate. I pray then, pray for her safety even if it means me staying behind bars. Forever.
My cock hardens at the thought of her. The walls here are thin, and I can hear someone screaming down the hallway. A guard is half-asleep at his post a few feet away from me.
I massage the bulge in my pants. I need her. I need the relief, the distraction, the fucking feeling of Pandora Oakes being mine again. I lay back on the bed and pull my pants down. Guiltily, my hand finds my cock, wrapping around the girthy head, stroking, needing the relief only Pandora has been able to give me.
Precome bubbles on the tip of my cock, and I use my thumb to spread it all over me. My teeth dig into my lower lip, painfully searing into the skin. I can't help myself.
Images fill my head. Pandora in Lily Anna's dresses. Pandora in nothing at all.
My cock grows harder and harder and I massage it with long strokes that bring no satisfaction at all. It's not Pandora's hand doing this to me, and my own palm is a cheap solution to the problem.
I wonder if I'll ever get to feel her again.
I groan her name as I touch myself. I bring myself closer and closer, tethering on the verge of an orgasm that I won't let myself have. Not until she's back, safe in my arms—or as safe as she can be when I'm around.
Bringing myself to the edge, I force myself to stop every time I get too close. My cock is dripping wet, eager to come, desperate to be buried in her silky folds. But she's not here. She's gone.
Frustrated, I slam my fist into the wall. The pain is blinding. My knuckles burst open, blood pouring down my hand, but I barely notice it, getting close to an orgasm again as I stroke my dick closer and closer.
Her name is a dying whisper on my lips. Blood drips down my crotch as I jerk with fast, angry motions. Time passes. I spend what must be hours lying on that squeaky mattress, palming my cock to the sound of the other inmates screaming, laughing and groaning in pleasure similar to mine.
I'm nothing now. I've been reduced to scum. Nobody wants me in their life anymore. With my parents gone, Lily Anna gone, and Pandora gone, I'm nothing.
I remember a story my mother used to read me when I was a kid, about a boy who would disappear if nobody remembered him. I try desperately to remember the ending. To remember how he solved the problem. But there's nothing there—just the soft, angelic sound of my mother's voice, and her manicured hands touching my forehead as she put me to sleep.
I try to fall asleep, but it's too loud. The guard wakes up at some point to change shifts with another man. I take my hand off my throbbing cock. I close my eyes and pretend I'm somewhere, anywhere else.
They don't give me food.
I use the toilet in the corner of the cell. There's no window. Time passes excruciatingly slowly. I have no way of knowing how many hours have passed. Worry and guilt fuck with my head, making me lose my mind.
I begin to understand what it was like for Lily Anna, being locked up in a place she couldn't escape. And I can't help but wonder whether this is all my fucking fault.