MasukAlexis.My muscles were sore in the best kind of way. I leaned into Pierce’s chest as the warm water cascaded over us both. He was behind me, his hands gentle as he ran a soft loofah over my skin.The same man who had just destroyed me on the bed was now carefully lathering my shoulders, massaging shampoo into my hair.“You’re good at this.”I comment.He smirked, pressing a kiss to my wet temple. “I’ve had practice. With you, specifically.”I turned in his arms and grabbed the body wash. “My turn.” I quipped excitedly. Pierce didn’t resist. He never did with me.He stood still, arms loose at his sides as I scrubbed his chest, then lower. I stroked his shaft, his eyes didn't leave mine. His chest rose. He let out a groan. Oh, he loved being worshipped just as much as he liked doing the worshipping.Once we were both rinsed and clean, I leaned my head against his chest.“Where were you the past two days?”I asked softly,His body stilled.“You went silent on me, Pierce. Not a single c
Alexis.I leaned back in the oversized tub as warm water hugged my skin and rippled gently. Outside the window, pine trees swayed in the wind.The bath salts made everything soft. But there was a sensation curling beneath my tummy. Must be the salts and essential oils kicking in.I closed my eyes and let it bloom, and allowed the feeling to rise like a wave ready to crash as I bit my lip.My eyes flew open.I was back home in our bedroom.My arms were stretched above my head, wrists cuffed to the headboard. My thighs parted, and hips held firmly in place.My mouth was gagged. What's going on? Then I looked down and met Pierce. His eyes met mine, full of delight as he hovered between my thighs like he’d found his morning religion.Fuck sweetness!He didn’t stop. His tongue moved with unwarranted devotion, he had all morning to worship me. And judging by the handcuffs, he probably did.I squirmed in desperate need to pull him deeper. The metal clinked above my head.Pierce chuckled aga
Pierce .People say revenge is best served cold.I prefer it underground, with blood on the floor and screams echoing off the walls.Don Nero had just landed in town, so I gave him a call.“Wanna take a little trip to Oklahoma?”I asked.He hissed through the phone like I’d insulted his designer boots. “Why would I want to rot in some crusty brown bread town?”He spat. I smiled. “There’ll be torture."I added. He didn’t even pack a bag.Now here we are beneath an abandoned warehouse I bought off some desperate meth-head last year, and Nero’s in his element. The guy gets off on pain. Not in a metaphorical tortured-poet way. No, he collects human agony like trophies. If pain had a fan club, Nero would be president, CEO, and the lunatic mascot.He’s circling Barry and Drew, the two cowardly little shits who thought ra.ping my wife and Sierra made them powerful. Now they’re gagged, shaking, and duct-taped to metal chairs, what a bunch of lousy cockroaches.Zane and I are standing off to th
Alexis.It’s been two long gut feeling wrenching days since Pierce walked out that door and didn’t come back after that night. No calls or texts from him. He vanished like smoke, and it’s k!lling me.I try to act normal. I laugh with Sierra, cook, clean and folded clothes on repeat. But every time I look at the door, hope curls around my throat and then dies a slow death.“Zane hasn’t come home either,” Sierra says softly as we load detergent and fabric softener into the cart while we shop. “Just silence."She adds sadly.“I don’t believe they’d just disappear. I'm thinking of all kinds of excuses, I just can't think straight.” I murmur. “Unless someone poisoned them against us,” Sierra replies, I feel her words. I don't really love that pesky rodent but I don't want to lose him either. We check out and make our way to the underground parking lot. We toss our shopping bags into the back seat, the trunk thudding shut.Suddenly the screech of tires makes us look around.Two black SUVs
Alexis. As I knead the dough for the meat pies, my mind drifts back to a place I swore I'd never return to. Oklahoma. That bloody stinky house where it happened. And where justice failed us. I press my fingers into the dough, harder than necessary. Those maggots walked free. It didn't matter that we reported it or that we had proof. The system found a way to let them go. "Insufficient evidence," they said. "No physical resistance," they added "Not enough to prove lack of consent." They concluded. Our dads did find those bastards and gave them a beating they'll never forget. That was the first time I ever saw my dad swing a baseball bat at someone like he was aiming for a home run. And Sierra's dad? The calm, church-loving man turned into a full-blown beast that day. It was almost scary how fast he flipped. Guess strong baseball lovers don't just limit their swings to the field. The brothers were lucky the police showed up when they did. If they had been even a few minutes la
Alexis.I should’ve known something was wrong the second Pierce and Zane walked in with expressions so serious shoulders tense and eyes colder than usual. But I was too busy laughing with Sierra about what we should paint the ceiling. Now I sit frozen, my body stiff as stone, eyes locked on the laptop screen Pierce just shoved in front of us.He doesn’t speak, he just hits play.The screen flickers, the lighting is barely visible, the footage has a lot of rice and shaky hands are holding a camera. Muffled familiar voices I begin to recognize. Then I hear my voice and Sierra’s.Their cruel laughter cuts like a serrated blade. My stomach knots, sour feeling rising from my stomach to my throat. Sierra’s hand tightens over mine. I feel her tremble.Then the worst creatures appear, monsters I left in Oklahoma. I jerk my eyes away. I don’t need to see more.I know what this is and what they did.Sierra turns to stone beside me. Her expression goes blank like a porcelain doll. But I feel h







