Unsuitable

The bottle of champagne falls from my hand, hitting the floor with a thud.

“Ce.” My voice trembles.

She’s sitting on the sofa. Her wrists are bound in front of her, and her ankles are tied, too. Over her mouth is a piece of duct tape. Her eyes are wide with fear, her cheeks stained with old and new tears.

And, standing behind her, with a gun casually resting on top of the sofa beside her, is Damien Doyle.

“Hi, Daisy.”

The bastard smiles. He fucking smiles.

Fear and rage unfurl in the pit of my stomach.

“Damien.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it trembles, and he hears it.

I know because his grin widens.

“Been a while,” he says.

“Not long enough,” I grit out.

He laughs. “See? And here I was, thinking you’d missed me.”

Like a hole in the head, motherfucker.

“About as much as I’d miss genital herpes.”

He laughs again. Louder. “This is why I’ve always liked you, Daisy. Never afraid to say what’s on your mind.” He rubs the side of his face with his gun. My eyes track the movement. “And I’m sorry to drop in out of the blue like this, but I’ve been hearing things…”

My stomach hollows. “Such as?”

“These wild, crazy ideas that you have about me being the reason you went to prison.” He’s still smiling, but his gray eyes have hardened like granite.

Jason.

“And where have you been hearing those things?”

The smile widens. “Come on, Daisy. You know Jason never could keep his mouth shut. Some beers in him, and it was like fucking confession time.” He laughs a low, cruel sound. “I mean, Jason coming to see you, I should’ve seen that coming the moment I heard you were out. He always did have a weak spot when it came to you. Had to smack him around a bit for that. I mean, I can’t exactly let him off for fucking up. Fucking idiot, that he is. But then he did kinda do me a favor by coming to see me, as I got to hear all about what you’ve been saying.”

I feel a sharp sting of betrayal. But then it’s not like I could have expected more from Jason. He’s a bastard and a coward, just like his brother.

“I haven’t said a word to anyone else,” I rush out. “And, even if I did, who would believe me anyway?”

“True.” He nods, running a tattooed hand over his shaved head. “But, hearing that stuff, it makes me feel uncomfortable. Like I’ve left a loose thread. And I don’t like feeling uncomfortable, Daisy.”

Fuck.

I swallow fearfully, trying to hold myself together.

I see Damien’s eyes go to the bottle of champagne on the floor by my feet.

He nods at it. “Celebrating something?”

Fists clenched by my sides, I shake my head. “No.”

“Drink champagne every day, do you?”

My eyes meet with his. “Yeah. I live a champagne lifestyle nowadays, didn’t you know? I mean, with all that money I got from the jewelry heist—oh, wait. No, that was you.” I’m pushing it. I know I shouldn’t, but my anger is getting the better of me.

He laughs. The sound scrapes through me like rough nails over soft skin.

“Hmm, I think I’ll have that champagne for myself when I’m done here. Do a little celebrating myself.”

“Done here.”

Fuck.

“And…what are you doing here?”

“Cleaning up a mess.”

I just had to ask, didn’t I?

Fear twists my gut into knots. It takes everything in me not to cry. I bite the inside of my mouth—hard.

I have to get us out of here. I can’t just let him kill us.

I need a plan.

What would Kas do?

Kill him. Without a second thought.

God, Kas, where are you? I need you.

But he’s not coming. There’s only me.

I need to keep Damien talking until I can figure out how to get us out of here.

My eyes move to Cece. Tears are swimming in her eyes. She looks so afraid. I silently try to convey to her that everything’s going to be okay.

Then, I force myself to look at Damien, and I bolster myself with false bravado. “I’m really good at cleaning up messes. Did you know that?” I tell him. “Maybe I can help you with your mess.”

He chuckles. “Honey, you are my mess.” He lifts his gun and scratches his temple with the barrel of it.

I silently wish for it to go off.

No such luck.

He lowers the gun and rests it on Cece’s shoulder, making her flinch and me dig my nails into my palm.

“This has nothing to do with Cece,” I grit out. “It’s between you and me. Let her go and—”

“You don’t get to make demands. Hello? I’m the one holding the gun here.” He waves the gun around, laughing.

He’s laughing like it’s a fucking game.

It probably is to him.

He presses the barrel of the gun to Cece’s temple.

“No!” I cry.

Cece squeezes her eyes shut, tears running down her cheeks, as her body shakes.

“I’m in charge here, Daisy. And I’m not letting you or your pretty friend go anywhere. I want to have some fun first.” He trails the barrel of the gun down Cece’s cheek and her neck before moving it across her chest.

My body is shaking with fear and rage. I have never felt as helpless as I do right now.

He hurts her, and I swear to God…

Damien leans his face down to the side of Cece’s, and he presses his nose into her hair. She flinches, trying to move away from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you good and hard, honey, and you’re gonna love every second of it,” he says to her.

“You touch her, and I will kill you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

But I don’t regret them.

Sick, evil grinning eyes lift to mine. “Are you and she…fucking?” The grin reaches his disgusting mouth. “Because I’m down for some girl-on-girl before I fuck the both of you.”

Bile rises in my throat, acid flooding my mouth, and I force it down. “You won’t touch Cece or me. The only one who’ll be getting fucked anytime soon is you. Fucked up by my boyfriend when he gets his hands on you.”

His eyes flicker with interest. “Is that so? Jason never mentioned a boyfriend.”

“Jason doesn’t know a thing about me. But my boyfriend…well, he knows everything about you, Damien.”

He straightens up and takes the gun off Cece, resting it on the sofa but keeping a tight hold on it. “And just exactly who is your boyfriend?”

I smirk. It takes everything in me to do it, but I have to keep this going. I need to scare him. “He’s someone you should be very fucking afraid of.”

He holds my stare for what feels like forever, and then he lets out a mocking laugh. “You’re so full of shit! You don’t have a fucking boyfriend. And even if you did, Damien Doyle ain’t afraid of no fucker.” He taps the gun to his puffed out chest.

“Well, you should be. You should be fucking terrified, Damien. Ask Evan Foster and Levi Betts. Oh, yeah, that’s right. You can’t, can you? Because they’re dead.”

“So? What the fuck do they have to do with anything?” he snaps.

And I know I’m getting to him.

I take a bold step forward. “Who do you think killed them?”

“You’re talking shit, little girl. Evan killed himself, the fucking coward that he was, and Levi was stabbed by a dealer.”

“Did they ever catch that dealer who did Levi in?” I tip my head to the side in contemplation. “And, you know, come to think of it…Evan slitting his own throat?” I give a shudder, pulling a face. “I mean, it isn’t exactly the usual way someone chooses to kill themselves, is it?”

He can’t hide the shock that ripples over his features, and through his transparent eyes, I can see his mind working quickly.

“Seven years ago, you and your two little besties decided to rape and murder a seventeen-year-old girl in Hyde Park on the night of her prom. Her boyfriend was with her. You beat him, tortured him, and made him watch while you defiled his girlfriend in the worst possible way. Then, you stabbed him over and over until you thought he was dead. Only…he wasn’t dead. He survived. And he’s been coming for you motherfuckers, one by one, and it’s your turn, Damien.”

His face pales, and his voice wavers. “What the fuck do you know about that?”

“Everything. When you’re sleeping with a man, he tends to tell you things—pillow talk, you know. And he told me about every bad thing you did and how badly he’s going to fuck you up, just like he did Evan and Levi.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” he snaps, his face turning red. “That kid was dead! I made sure of it.”

“Did you not check the news after that night? Or were you just too fucking arrogant? Or did you just not care enough about the fact that you stole the lives of two fucking innocent kids? Well, whatever it was, you fucked up big time, Damien. Because he survived. And he grew up with a lot of rage and hatred, every ounce of it directed at you. You created a killer, Damien, and he’s coming for you.”

“You’re fucking lying!” he yells, losing his cool.

I laugh. “God, I can’t wait to prove you wrong. I’m going to really enjoy watching Kas cut you wide open.”

“What did you say?” He steps to the side of the sofa, away from Cece.

Shit. I told him Kas’s name.

Holding my face steady, I say, “What? That he’s going to cut you wide open? Because he will. He’ll gut you like a fish—”

“No, bitch. His fucking name.” He takes a menacing step toward me. “Say his fucking name again.”

Saliva floods my mouth. I swallow it down, lift my chin, and hold my bravado. “Kas.”

That’s when I see it. It’s only a brief flicker. If I had blinked, I would have missed it. But he knows Kas’s name.

I smirk, triumphant. “You’ve already met him, haven’t you? Well, I mean, met him again. ’Cause you already knew him, right? From seven years ago. But he’s changed a lot since then. This is what he does, you know.” I lean forward and lower my voice, like I’m telling him a secret. “He gets close and then”—I draw my index finger across my neck, making a slicing sound in my throat—“next thing you know, you’re drowning in your own blood.”

My words hang in the air between us. He looks afraid, and I feel strong.

Then, his face suddenly changes, and he laughs loudly, clutching his stomach with his hand.

And my stomach sinks.

“I fucking had you there, didn’t I?” he crows. “God, you dumb bitch! Did you really think I would give a fuck about your little boyfriend? Do you know how many bitches I’ve raped? How many people I’ve killed? That little cunt and her pansy-ass boyfriend were two in a big-ass pool of people. Let him come. I want him to. It’ll give me a chance to finish what I didn’t get to finish all those years ago.” His eyes narrow and darken on me. “Because I do hate a loose end, Daisy.”

He walks slowly toward me, and I fight against the urge to run. Balling my hands into fists, I bite my lip hard to stop from trembling.

Reaching me, he stops inches away. I can smell the stench of cigarette smoke and cheap aftershave, and I want to gag.

He presses the gun to my chest, pushing the barrel in between my breasts. My legs start to shake.

“You know, the first time I saw you, when Jason brought you around, I noticed how fucking pretty you were. But you always looked so uptight, like you needed a good fucking. And I know how to fuck real good, Daisy. You want that, huh? Me to give it to you good?”

I spit in his face. And he laughs.

Eyes fixed on mine, he slowly wipes my spit from his face and then gives me a sick, twisted smile. “I’ll let you have that one. But you pull any more of that shit, and I’ll put a bullet between your pretty friend’s eyes before you can scream for me to stop.”

I can hear muffled sounds coming from Cece, like she’s trying to shout behind her gag.

I force my eyes to stare back at his. “You pull that trigger, and the neighbors will call the cops faster than your inefficient, small dick can get an erection.”

He grins, excitement flaring in his eyes. “Silencer, baby.”

He taps the gun against my chest, drawing my eyes down to it, and that’s when I register the silencer attached to it.

Fuck. I’m done for. There’s no getting out of this.

I squeeze my eyes shut in defeat, and he chuckles softly.

I feel the gun move from my chest, and he comes closer.

He presses his mouth to my ear and licks the shell of it.

I shudder in disgust. A tear runs down my face.

“So, don’t worry, baby; no one will hear a thing. Not even the sound of you screaming while I fuck you.”

He steps back, and then he grabs the top of my dress and yanks it down, ripping it open, exposing my bra. His eyes flash with excitement, and my stomach revolts, sick with fear.

“If you’re a good girl and do as I say, I’ll kill you and your girlfriend quickly. You fuck with me, and I’ll kill you slowly. I’ll fuck you and your girlfriend six ways to Sunday, and then I’ll make you watch while I cut her open before doing the same to you. You hear me, Daisy? Play nice, and this will all be over real soon.”

Body quaking, I swallow roughly, my throat like sandpaper.

His hand comes up and roughly grabs my breast. “So fucking pretty. I’m going to enjoy every fucking minute with you.”

He rips my dress the rest of the way off, leaving me in only my underwear. His eyes run a sick appraisal over my body. An evil-sounding chuckle comes from his mouth. Then, he leans forward, and his disgusting tongue licks the top of my breast.

Tears running down my face, I lock eyes with Cece. She’s crying behind her gag, her eyes wide with fear.

I shut my eyes, so I don’t have to see her. As though that will stop her from having to see this.

This must have been how it was for Haley and Kas that night.

Something inside me suddenly snaps.

No.

I won’t let this happen. I won’t be this sick fuck’s victim anymore. He’s taken enough from me already. He’s not robbing me of this as well.

He’s never doing this to anyone ever again.

And, if I have to die while stopping him, then so be it.

Because I’d rather be dead than be his victim for one second longer.

Then, I stop thinking and just act.

I tightly grab ahold of his balls, squeezing harder than I ever have in my life.

He cries out in pain and shock. His head jolts up, and he head-butts my chin. I bite my tongue, and blood floods my mouth. But I don’t let go. I keep a tight hold of that motherfucker’s balls.

“Get the fuck off me, you fucking cunt!”

He hits me with the butt of his gun. Pain explodes in my eye, and I lose my hold on him as I stumble back, clutching my eye.

“You’re gonna fucking get it now, you little bitch.”

He punches me in the face. I fall backward, hitting the floor.

He’s on top of me, and I’m fighting him with everything I have.

But he’s too strong.

He grabs one of my flailing arms, forcing it to the floor and pinning it there. I see the bottle of champagne lying on the floor beside me, only inches away.

If I could just grab it…

He presses the gun to my forehead. “What did I fucking tell you?” he snarls. “I told you to behave. But you just don’t fucking listen, do you? Do you want me to put a bullet in your girlfriend’s head right now? Or maybe I should just put a bullet in yours.”

He pushes the gun harder against my head, and I know there’ll be a bruise there—if I live through this, that is.

“Because you are becoming more trouble than you’re worth. And, honestly, Daisy, I have no problem with fucking your still-warm corpse.”

A laugh bubbles up out of me, and it sounds maniacal. I feel maniacal.

I stare up at him. “Do your worst, Doyle. I got a feel of your tiny cock, and I’d be surprised if I’d even be able to feel it anyway.”

Anger tightens his features. The gun pulls away from my forehead, and then he punches me in the face.

Holy fuck.

The pain is excruciating.

Choking on the blood filling my mouth, I start laughing again. The sound is like a gurgle. I open one eye, staring up at him. “Jesus, Doyle, I can hit harder than you. Hits like a girl and has a tiny cock. That’s why you have to rape women, isn’t it? To make you feel like more than you are.”

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking bitch!” he yells, face bright red, as his hand rears back to hit me again.

That’s when I make a grab for the champagne bottle. I get ahold of it, but he catches my hand, trying to wrestle it from my grip.

“Get off me!” I scream, fighting with everything I have.

“I’d do as she says, if I were you.”

Kas.

He’s here. Thank you, God.

Twisting my head back, my eyes connect with his.

He’s standing in the doorway. Pure rage covers his face, contorting his beautiful features. His black eyes look like they’re on fire. Every single inch of him screams danger.

He’s never looked more beautiful to me than he does now. And I’ve never felt relief like I do now.

Damien yanks the champagne bottle from my hand and tosses it to the floor behind him. Eyes on Kas, he sits on my stomach, pinning me to the floor. “Well, if this isn’t just fucking peachy. The boyfriend’s here. Come on in, Kas. Join the party.” He waves his gun in Kas’s direction. “You know the rules. You’ve been to one of my parties before. You get to sit and watch while I fuck your girlfriend. And, when I’m done with her, I get to finish you off, like I should’ve done seven years ago.”

An animalistic sound tears from Kas.

And then everything goes crazy.

Kas lunges the short distance across the room, toward Damien. He moves so fast that Damien doesn’t even get a chance to lift his gun to point it at Kas.

Kas’s body connects with Damien’s with a loud thud. The gun flies from Damien’s hand. They both hit the floor.

Now free, I don’t waste a second. I scramble up to my knees, wildly scanning the floor for the gun, while Kas fights Damien, barely a foot away from me.

My eyes lock on the gun. It’s on the floor, by the foot of the armchair.

I dive for it. Hand curling around the barrel, I pick it up. Swinging around to face them, I push up to my knees, and in my trembling hand, I hold the gun properly. I raise it and point the gun at the men fighting on the floor.

I curl my finger around the trigger. “Kas,” I rasp out, my voice hoarse.

He doesn’t hear me. He’s too busy punching Damien in the face.

“Kas! Move!” I scream.

Kas’s head jerks back and around, eyes swinging to mine.

It’s a mistake on my part because Damien takes full advantage of his distraction and punches Kas in the side of his head, his fist connecting with Kas’s temple.

Kas slumps to the floor.

“No!” I cry out.

Damien’s eyes come to me. And that’s when he sees I have the gun in my hand.

Slowly, Damien gets to his feet. “And what do you think you’re going to do with that, little girl?” he mocks.

My heart is pounding. Panic and fear and adrenaline are burning through me like jet fuel, making my hands shake.

Damien tips his head to the side, his eyes appraising me.

I know he’s weighing whether or not I have the guts to pull the trigger.

Can I? Can I really do it?

I pull this trigger, and it’s game over for me. I will never get Jesse back. I’ll go back to prison.

Damien’s lips curl up into a sick, twisted smile, and I know he’s made his decision.

The choice is no longer mine.

I’m so sorry, Jesse.

Damien lunges for me.

And I pull the trigger.