“Why?” I challenged him. “Why do I need to stop? Besides, you’re the ones who kidnapped me in the first place. It’s not like you were trying to do me a fucking favor, so why the hell do you care whether I starve myself?”
“It was never our intention to hurt you.” Onyx started pacing. “Everything that happened, and with Neon…that shit wasn’t part of the plan.”
This time I got up from the floor, straightening. “What was the plan, Onyx? Huh? To me, it seems like the plan you had in mind was something completely different than the plan Granite was trying to execute.”
Onyx pulled at his hair, a loud growl rolling over his lips. “Jesus Christ! I know, okay? I fucking know.”
“What? What do you know?”
He launched at me, and my back hit the wall while his face came within inches of mine. Nostrils flaring, sky-blue eyes dark and menacing. It reminded me of him—of his older brother, a wave of nostalgia crashing over me.
With his palm flat against the wall above my shoulder, he leaned closer. “I know that you being here was never solely because of the Pythons. I know that even though my brother wanted revenge for our father’s death, this plan he came up with to use you wasn’t just for the club’s gain,” his gaze cut down to my lips, then back up, “but for his own personal reasons as well. No one knows my brother the way I do. And I knew right from the start that all this was less about the Pythons and more about you.”
Silence ensued while his blue-eyed stare seemed to look straight through me. The measure of intensity that radiated from him was off the charts, and for the first time since all this started, Onyx intimidated me almost as much as his brother.
He cocked his head. “And here’s the thing, Alyx,” his tongue darted out, wetting his lips, “I don’t blame him. I’d do the exact same thing if I were him. But I’m not him. And the fact of the matter is, you belong to him. I know it. He knows it…you know it.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, and it felt like the air wasn’t reaching my lungs as I stared at Onyx.
The corner of his lips curled up slightly. “You know, I’ve never been this tempted to break a club bylaw.”
“What bylaw is that?” My voice was soft.
He moved forward, his lips lightly brushing against my earlobe. “Never touch another member’s woman. Ever.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m no one’s woman.”
A soft laugh rushed over his lips. “Yes, you are. And you always will be.”
He pushed himself off the wall and a little farther away from me, yet his gaze remained fixed on mine while he held up his hands and stepped back. “Eat. Don’t eat. I’m out.” Then he left, and I only got a quick glance of the skull framed with the American flag on the back of his cut. The door shut behind him, but I didn’t hear the lock.
I slid down the wall until my ass hit the floor, legs pushed up against my chest. No matter how much I wished it wasn’t true, it was. Onyx was right. Granite owned me. There was nothing I could do to change that. The second he possessed my body, I surrendered. I gave him the permission he needed to claim me. There was no going back from that. And if I was completely honest with myself, I would admit that deep down I didn’t want to be anyone’s woman but his.
But the reality was, I would never be able to be with him, to endure his touch, his kiss, the comfort of his body without thinking of her, without being reminded of the selfish choice he made all because he couldn’t let me go. A part of me had wished I could, but I’d never be able to look him in the eye without seeing her face while she was slowly being tortured to death. As long as the image of her pain was in my head haunting me, there was no way I could be with him without being sliced wide open with guilt and resentment.
Because of the decision he made, I would never be his again. Not willingly.
Never.
4
Granite
A riverof crimson flowed across the floor, rounding my boot. It was beautiful, soothing, calming. Knowing it was Python blood freed me of my guilt for a few moments. I chose to savor those moments because soon the peace would be gone, replaced by the suffocating remorse.
The poor fuck screamed as Ink pressed the scorching hot blade against his cheek. I could hear the sizzle as his flesh seared and melted. When Ink pulled his knife away, the charred skin bubbled with blood and ooze.
We’d been pulling this man apart for the last two hours. It was easy to lure him here with a whore spitting promises of sucking his dick. But rather than finding pleasure, he strolled right into a fuck-load of pain waiting for him in an abandoned building far away from where anyone could hear him scream. Now he was hanging from the ceiling, wrists tied above his head with chains holding him in place.
Ink took the blowtorch and heated the knife again. Judging by the malice painted across his skin, Ink was far from done.
“Fuck it.” Ink tossed the knife aside and rounded to stand behind the Python, who had been weeping. With every tear that crossed his burned flesh, he screamed even harder. Nothing like salt on open wounds.
“Granite, you got another knife?”
I plucked one out of the side of my boot and handed it to him.
“What…please…” the SOB begged, but his voice was barely audible, exhausted as fuck.