Page 4 of Hostile Saint

I screamed and pled to the brothers, “She’s out! She’s out! Stop!” hoping only my torture was what they craved.

The answer to how long she had been dragged is one I don’t have. I can say it felt like an eternity before red brake lights finally glowed down the road ahead of me. Adrenaline and love had me still on my feet, charging toward her limp body. Her arms, above her head, were still attached to the rope and closed trunk.

Brothers unloaded from the car, their eyes happily locked onto my panicked running. They cackled, enjoying how hard I was racing to Lace.

Damien howled pleasure, “I do believe he loves her, boys!”

Before I could get there, Jake’s boot nudged Lacey’s side. “She’s out to the world.”

As soon as I was close enough, I shoved him back, then dropped to my knees. “Lace!” My hands, though desperate to touch, were unsure how to not cause more harm. “Lace.” No bones looked out of place. There were just scrapes and gashes on her perfect skin; even with all the old scars from our brothers, to me, she was flawless. Sweatpants and a sweatshirt are how some of her arms, hips, and legs were spared from the dirt and pebbles that tore at the rest of her. Gently, I scooped up the upper part of her limp body and held her. “Pretty Girl, open your eyes.”

Like a pack of hungry hyenas, they surrounded me and my girl. That is when I stopped asking her to wake. I no longer wanted her waking. Why should she have to witness what else was to come?

Mercy. The angels had offered mercy… Who was I to deny such a gift?

I peered up to see four sets of sinister eyes studying me. My affections were showing the brothers a new way to cause me agony. Up until this point, only fear and pain had fed their endless cravings.

Cradling Lacey, I asked one very simple question. “Why?”

Crow wiped his mouth as if salivating on himself. “Besides reasons you won’t live long enough to know, it feels so fucking good.”

The other three nodded, eyes fastened to the physical connection between me and Lace as if they could see the love threads we had created long ago. They stared as if severing those cords would bring immense gratification to them all.

Sensing evil all around me, my fear shifted into terror. I could literally feel the grim moments—possibly hours—to come. I didn’t want one more second of Lacey suffering as she already had, definitely not for so long.

In a last attempt to spare her, my mind searched for a plan. My last one had worked for some time, saving her… Now I had to conjure another one. Even under all the pressure of hungry stares and the time restraint, I did. An idea presented itself to me. It was an awful one, but I was left with little choice.

Forcing myself to gain composure, I tried to do the unthinkable. “Want to see me cut her?”

All eyebrows lifted in surprise and amusement.

Jarod asked, “Why would you want to cut her?”

I shrugged. “You guys seem to find it fun. Maybe I’d like it, too.”

Damien’s head tilted. I tried to look him in the eye, but they were so inquisitive I was concerned he would see through my lie.

Shaking, I supported Lace with one arm and lifted the other. “Give me a knife. Let’s see. I want to know what I’ve been missing out on.”

Jake chuckled, pulling the blade from his back pocket that I knew he had. They all did. Blades were a favorite punishment for them. All my scars could attest to that.

The lingering knife was so close to my hand, I thought I was actually fooling them until Damien said, “Stop.”

Regrettably, Jake pulled the weapon back. My ruse had been detected.

Damien squatted in my line of sight. He licked his teeth before finally asking, “How long,” he regarded Lacey, “has this been going on?” When I refused to answer, he grinned. “For some time now, you’ve been more than willing to cause a fight with us.” He shook his head as it all made sense. “You have been extra ornery.” A finger lazily pointed to Lace in my arms. “Because of her, right? Us getting off on you made us not need her.”

I still didn’t answer. There was nothing left to say. I had failed Lace yet again.

He pulled out his own knife and studied it. “Which vein of hers would you have gone for?”

Tears fell from my tired eyes as I sadly admitted, “Jugular.”

He peered at Lace’s exposed neck. “Wow.” He lazily shrugged. “I mean, after what happened last night, it’s clear you’d do anything for her, but killing her just to prevent her any more pain? Damn.”

Slicing her neck would’ve been the beginning of my impending death, but that is what unconditional love is. No conditions—no lengths—exist when it comes to what you would do for the one who owns your heart and soul.

“Gotta say,” Damien added, “that’s ballsy.”