“Does that sound good, diamond? Do you think you’d even remember Z after I’m done with you?”
My eyes snap open, and red clouds my vision. This time, I do tremble, but only from rage.
God? I need you right now. I need you to bestow whatever voodoo shit you got up your sleeve, so I don't fucking murder this man.
He leans back, his cold gaze searching my face for a reaction. I look away, incapable of keeping the fire from my eyes, and firmly keep my mouth shut.
What the fuck does he expect me to say to that? Yes, pedo master, I would forget all about Zade and only think of you and your small, puny cock.
Fuck out of here, dickhead.
He grunts out another sound of amusement, and I bite the inside of my cheek until the taste of copper fills my mouth. And then I bite harder.
"Answer me," he clips.
"No," I whisper, casting my gaze down to conceal the lie. "I think it would be very difficult to think of anything else but you."
And how much I want to kill you.
"Yeah?" he asks, his voice hitching with excitement.
"Yeah," I squeak, right as his hand roughly grips my ass, jerking me deeper into his broad chest. My muscles tighten impossibly further, feeling his length digging into my stomach. Revulsion twists my insides, and I swear it'll be some form of justice if I just allow the vomit to spew right in his face.
He rolls his hips into me, and just as I'm reaching my snapping point, someone clears their throat loudly from behind me.
Xavier releases me, and I take a few steps away, immediately correcting my disheveled dress from his groping. When I risk a glance up, I find Rio standing beside me, hands linked behind his back and a neutral expression on his face.
"Excuse my intrusion," he says, bowing his head for a moment. "I'm required to change the dressings on her back before the event. It's also time for you to head into the red room," he informs, his tone clinical but pleasant.
Xavier straightens his jacket, casting me a look I refuse to meet. It burns the side of my face as he dips his chin in acknowledgment, before taking off. Flicking my eyes to Rio again, he nods his head towards the kitchen entryway, which leads back toward a bathroom.
Still shaking, I follow in step, hoping I'm not too unsteady and roll my ankles in these heels. Francesca would probably reopen my stitches herself from a stupid mistake like that.
Even after we enter the bathroom, we keep quiet, and he shuts the door behind us. My shoulders relax a smidge now that we’re alone.
I wonder when Rio started feeling safe.
But I'll admit, I'm grateful. He's not an ally by any means, but he's the least of my enemies in this fucking house.
“What the hell is the red room?” I question.
Rio glances at me. “A room in the back of the house full of tarp and torture devices. I’m sure you can conclude why they’ve dubbed it the red room,” he answers dryly.
I swallow. “Are they… taking Phoebe and Bethany back there?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s only used for those who fail the Culling.”
My chest clenches and my stomach twists. They’re doing unspeakable things to them right now, and that makes me fucking sick.
“Turn around,” he demands.
I narrow my eyes, not appreciating the way he’s ordering me around. Noting the look on my face, he sighs, and says, “Por favor.”
Flattening my lips, I turn.
"Why did you save me anyway?" I ask quietly, peeking over my shoulder to watch him dig out the first aid kit from beneath the sink and set it on the yellowed countertop. I'm sure they were white back in their heyday.
"What makes you think I saved you?" he counters, glancing at me as he digs out bandages and Neosporin. "You're going to have to lift up your dress."