Trapped in his End Game (Series)

4-18



TOMMY

That’s what I fucking get for being too ambitious. Locking her up in the basement worked. It worked almost too well. She was seeing things in the dark. I heard her screams from the vent upstairs. The job was to make her devoted to me, not to scramble her brains.

It’s a learning process for me. Hell, I’ve never attempted anything like this before, but I think we’ve had a breakthrough. She succumbed to her hunger pangs and humiliated herself to ease the pain. Throughout the years, I’ve learned that there’s a price to doing that. A bit of your pride chips away. I’ve made it this far because I knew when to choose my battles. The way she looks right now reminds me when a made guy insulted me. Even though I wanted to beat him until his legs stopped working, I didn’t lay a finger on him.

She stares into the fire with a faraway look as if she’s already gone. Her dark curls swing over her face, and I have a sudden desire to tuck them behind her ears. I want to see the orange light flicker over her lips and cheek. I want to gaze at the sadness misting her eyes, to study the mysteries of all these human emotions that I seldom feel myself. Maybe I just want to bask in the glow of her beauty and marvel at it for a moment. It’s so rare that I get to really study it.

There’s a painful twinge in my chest as I watch her hug her knees. She’s like a bird, and I’ve clipped her wings. So sad. So beautiful.

I don’t like how I feel when I’m around her. That sharp pain in my chest radiates outward like an infection. My lips and eyes burn from the proximity of the fire. I should have made that bitch eat every scrap of food on the floor like a dog. She would have hated it, but it would have broken her down even more. Instead, I took pity on her. Instead, I comforted her.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Watching her eyes fill with tears was like a blow to my stomach. She looked so miserable, and I suddenly felt like the toxic, evil bastard that I am. For the first time I don’t want a body to work on with my knife. I’m not interested in hearing her screams. They don’t comfort me. They ring horribly in my ears.

I never thought this would be a problem for me. Ever. She’s a rat. We kill rats all the time.

She sits in front of the fireplace, hugging her knees.

When the time comes, it’ll be quick. I won’t draw it out.

I withdraw into myself, like I used to when I first started working for Jack. Cold wraps around my chest, freezing the small, hopeful fire inside. Icy fingers clutch my shoulders and move up my neck, to my head. Then I feel nothing, just a low, burning lust for her. I’ll need to feel nothing for what I’m going to do with her.

“What’s wrong with you?”

She says it in a deadened voice, her eyes still trained on the fire.

I wonder if she noticed the shift in temperature. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean how did someone grow up to become so fucked up?”

I’ve asked that myself plenty of times, and never came up with an answer. My parents weren’t awful, but they treated me like a ghost. Never disciplined me. Never said a word of encouragement, or praise. Never seemed to give a shit where I was or what I did. No, it was always very monotonous at my house. I remember how Jack gave me a hug when he first met me, and how foreign it felt. I was never touched like that by anyone before.

“I’m always angry. What’s wrong with taking it out on people who are going to die anyway?”

She squeezes her eyes shut and a sudden, desperate sound from her lungs smashes through the walls I’ve built up around myself. My stomach caves in as another high-pitched sound shakes from her chest.

Jesus Christ.

Unable to stop myself, I slide next to her. My thigh presses against hers as I wrap an arm around her warm back. I nuzzle her neck and squeeze her reassuringly.

“I don’t mean you.”

“Bullshit.”

“I like you. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

The sweet things I whispered in her ears all those times at the club-they weren’t all lies. She stood up to Vince and told him to fuck off all the time. Who wouldn’t get a kick out of that? She never became one of those weak, sniveling people who’d shower us with empty compliments to get on our good side. No, she said whatever the fuck she wanted. I liked her for that.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to kill me,” she gasps, tears burning down her cheeks. “There’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

I pull her into my chest and plant a kiss on her head. There’s no warm glow in my chest from holding her. There’s nothing.

“Melanie, I swear to God that’s not going to happen. On my mother’s life.”

Her red eyes stare at me, slightly widened. Hope.

My stomach sinks.

I’m such a monster.

“Really?”

“Really. All you have to do is listen to what I say, and you’ll get back to your old life before you know it.”

Such a lying piece of shit.

A small smile flickers on her face as tears continue to leak from her eyes.

“I almost believe that.”

Her eyes beg me to reconsider, but I won’t. I’ve wanted to be made since I was a kid. She has no chance-no chance at all. Her eyes drop and she pulls away from my embrace, talking to me with a seething tone.

“Why do you do it? What do you get out of this?”

I look at her furious gaze for a moment, regarding her for a moment as the question stews in my head.

“It makes me feel better,” I finally say, disliking the look of disgust on her face. “The more they scream, the less angry I feel.”

She gives me that sickened look that I’ve seen so many times on the other guys’ faces. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was about sixteen.”

Melanie’s small mouth opens in shock. “That’s sick. That’s really, really sick.”

I remember how the warm blood gushed around my hands when I sunk Jack’s blade into that man’s stomach. Before that, I’d never killed a person. I’d never used a knife on anyone before.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Jack ruined you. You were just a kid and he turned you into a monster.”

I glance at her with a small frown. She’s completely wrong about him. “He gave me purpose. He’s like a father to me.”

“If he’s a model father to you then I feel sorry for you. He used you. He’s still using you.”

Images of Jack patting me on the head when I was younger flash through my head. I remember the swell of warmth in my chest, the gratitude I felt that finally someone recognized me. Jack told me that he loved me like a son. That meant a lot to me. Then I remember the crushing agony when the man who told me I was like a son told me that I could never be a made member.

A hot, forbidding feeling rustles in my chest and I take her arm in a bruising grip.

“Nobody uses me, sweetheart. Not you, not Vince, and definitely not Jack. I chose to do this for a living.”

That seems to take her surprise for a moment, but she swallows it down and keeps looking at me with that softened look that I hate to see.

“I know you’re not all bad.”

“I am, though.”

She flinches from the harshness in my voice and sucks in her breath. I take her shoulders in my hands and feel how warm they are, how she tries to squirm out of my grip.

“No you’re not. You helped me with that guy-”

“I was protecting Jack’s interests.” I swallow hard as the desperate fervor in her eyes becomes more pronounced.

I feel sorry for her.

“You were always nice to me-”

“Because I wanted to get laid.”

Her face crumbles and I take her shaking head in my hands. My heart hammers against my chest when she draws another desperate breath.

I don’t know why I’m gentle with her.

“I’m sorry, hon, but you’re looking for something inside me that just doesn’t exist.”

“If you really don’t care then why are you holding me like this?”

Because I need you to drop your testimony.

Another disturbed part of me can’t help but point out that she’s right. There’s a nasty feeling somewhere inside me, a nagging, painful ache. Still, the need to prove her wrong irresistibly claws its way to the surface.

“Jack promised me something I’ve wanted for a very long time.”

Her eyes flicker. “So you’re just going to let me die in exchange for this thing, whatever it is?”

A smile spreads on my face. “I’m getting really tired of repeating myself. How many times do I have to say it? As long as you do as I say, you’ll be safe.”

There it is, again. Her mouth parts as she looks straight into my eyes, as if trying to catch me in a lie. She dares to hope.

It’s all for nothing.

“You promise?”

Why do people take that word seriously?

“Yeah, sure.”

Melanie smiles back at me and then leans on her arm. It’s a strange position, but I think nothing of it. Suddenly there’s a metallic, clanging sound and suddenly a thin, black rod swings in my vision.

Jesus.

I catch it in my fist as she swings it at my face and then I twist it out of her grasp as she screams.

“Fuck you! I know you’re full of shit!”

My heart pounds as I throw the fire poker from us, looking at it with amusement. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

She backs away from me, her eyes widened. “I’m not going to just sit here while you do this to me!”

Just when I was starting to think that she was breaking.

“Is that what all this introspective bullshit was about?” I raise my voice, mocking hers. “Jack’s using you. You were only sixteen. You’re a good person deep down inside. Were you trying to get me to see the light?” I laugh into her face as she looks away from me, confirming my suspicions.

Then I take her skinny little neck and squeeze her throat. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had an outlet for my rage? I’ve held back from hurting you so far, but if you keep fucking pushing me-”

“Go ahead. Coward.”

“I dwell in darkness, sweetheart. If I wanted to kill you, I’d do it.”

“Just get it over with, you coward.”

She just can’t fucking shut up.

I pin her to the hardwood floor, her dark eyes blazing at me in defiance as I fight against the urge to slap her face. I vent my feelings by smashing my fist against the wood next to her head, and she flinches.

Then an idea strikes me. It’s so amazing, so fucking perfect that I forget all of my anger. A smile widens my face.

“Get up. It’s time for your punishment.”

The color drains from her face. “You’re going to use those knives, aren’t you?”

I jerk my head to the side, wincing at the very thought. On the contrary, I’m going to make her beg for me. She’s going to want release, but I won’t give it to her until she’s said what I want. I pull her resisting body upright, my cock already hardening in my pants. My arms wrap around her waist and I let her feel it digging into her ass, which is just barely covered by the white t-shirt.

She inhales a sharp gasp when I hold her against me.

“I’ve learned a lot about you over the last couple days, sweetie. I know what you like, and what you don’t like.” I bury my hand in her thick head of hair, and yank her neck to the side so I can plant a kiss on her throbbing vein. “I know deep down you like kissing me. Some dark corner of your mind you never knew existed wants this. You’d probably love fucking me, too. I know how that makes you feel. You’re sickened with yourself for liking it-for liking me.”

“You’re wrong on every level,” she says in a high voice.

“I’m right. I know I’m right because I can see how hard your nipples are right now. I bet if I touched your pussy, I’d find it nice and wet.”

Then just to prove my point, I fasten my mouth on her neck and my free hand wanders around her tits, which stick out of her chest. I squeeze them and my cock twitches. She sighs a shuddering breath and squirms when my hand dips lower. Under the t-shirt, I find her heat hidden between her thighs. I slap them ruthlessly and she opens her legs, and then my fingers run along her slick pussy. She cringes at the sound of my chuckle.

“Your body knows who you belong to. It wants to serve me.”

Her chest heaves against my arm as I play with her lips, and it’s turning me on, too. My breaths get quicker and my heart pounds against her back. I want her really fucking badly, I always have.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Tonight, I’m going to make her beg.


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