Chapter 2

Jace

My mind is a fucking haze. Rick has been so long in the mission, I frantically walk down past the alley with suburbs of flecking grasses outside the club. 

My phone beeped. 

Jaxon:

Your girl skipped school, Jacey boy. 

I swear to God, I could nail Jaxon’s dick over his university pole for updating so late; it doesn't even matter anymore. 

Jace:

The most dumbass undercover ever, no wonder she loathes your fucking dick.

Jaxon:

Yours is just so big, Daddy.

I shut my phone off, cringing at the thought of my asshole childhood friend Jax getting sucked by my sister. Well, I guess not anymore because she's now one of the bishops. 

The Bishops. I can deal with the Devil just so I could massacre their entire lineage for ruining my own family. 

Ingrid Bishop is annoyingly innocent of what those motherfuckers did to her own bloodline. She is led to a princess life, blinded by the truth that our Father is tortured for a crime he didn't commit and Mother is nowhere to be found. 

They mess with the wrong family. The Greys could gut you alive while snacking and rear-viewing Christopher Bishop getting tortured. 

I just have the perfect instrument for that: their beloved daughter, whom they've had ever since that bitch turned 10 years old. I don't even know if she even remembers me now, but I couldn't care less about having her as a hostage. 

They need to fucking die. But I will seek for my mother first for them to taste death. 

The waiting has been so long, and this opportunity is a canon event we plotted for months, and if this doesn't turn out the way I want it to, I will blow Rick and Jaxon’s brains. 

I entered the mansion of what I used to call a home, where Ingrid now has been lurking for years because she stupidly believes in belongingness—as if she doesn't have her own place. But again, I couldn't care less, especially when Rick and the Gang have been running this place, because I don't have the balls to inconvenience myself, and I live somewhere in the deep woods of Nevada—a cabin. 

What an alibi for a whore just wanting to be mindlessly fucked—this has become a goddamn sex den of all kinds of fetishes, a three-story huge mansion whose ground floor is a club, the second floor a den of lust-craved animals, and the third floor our used-to-be home. I missed Mom and Dad. 

I motioned near the door. I assigned Rick to tie down Ingrid, but I heard noises. 

“Yes, that’s a good girl...“ Rick groans in fucking pleasure. Slapping noises, panting, choking—even, I couldn't hold less anymore when an insatiable desire rose in me.

I slam the door open and see my sister head underwater in the tub as her platinum blonde hair floatingly cascades above her face on the water. 

She is arched back, legs spread open wide, wearing an attire I couldn't even describe. 

She looks so vulnerable, and that hardens me. 

I yanked Rick away from her. 

“Get the fuck outta here; you’re done, not fired.“ I grabbed her legs and yanked her closer still underwater. 

When I feel her trembling from the water, I grab her neck as she didn't stand a chance to get off the surface. 

The water is bubbling from her remaining air.

Rick grabs my shoulder. 

“Stop it, man! She’s innocent! ”

I resisted. Because I am fascinated when Ingrid is in pain. Her limbs stopped dangling off the water, and I saw Rick getting pale with the thought I might have killed her. 

Without a second thought, I lift my sister, grabbing her nape on the surface. I scan to see this beautiful face I haven't seen for nine fucking years. 

I parted her lips using my thumb as I kneeled down in the water to embrace in a missionary position. I'm now soaked, but at what cost? My goddamn fantasy. 

She’s not breathing. Perfect. I cupped her face, and when her porcelain-drenched skin touched mine, I didn't even know what to feel anymore. 

“Hey,“ I shake her. “Bunny, wake up.“ 

A feeling arose as I called my own nickname to her.

I start to panic. 

I pinched her nose and without a doubt gave her a lungful of air in a kiss. I did it again and again. Rick motioned near me, equally concerned as I. 

“Can I help? “

I nod in response. “Can I fuck her alive? “

“The FUCK, man,“ I yelp.

“Jerkass, I am not kidding; it might pull some senses on her—

He strode down to my position as he shoved his cock. 

“Continue giving her air,“ he demands, and so I do.

I thought to myself, This is a hell of a position, because I am still on top of Ingrid; however, I scoot closer to her face because Rick is giving her the missionary position. 

We have repeatedly done everything we can to wake her up; I started to hit her chest down to it. And finally she chokes out the water. 

My eyes scanned hers for a few seconds. 

A loud thud on the door came, and a man running to the room appeared: Jaxon. 

He gaped while we were still in position.

“I hate you guys for having a threesome without me.“ 

We ignored the asshole yelping. 

“Ingrid“ 

Rick came with a towel, shoving me out of the way, and wrapped her like a goddamn baby. 

Her breathing is still unsteady. 

I could be guilty, but I chose not to and stormed out of the room. My pants are wet—fuck. 

I shut the whole damn place out, customers out, sex den and club area out. Others are tripping, some are high, and most are pissy because they're in the middle of sex. 

Jaxon laughs, “This party boomer.“ 

“I thought it was a hostage, Daddy. What's with the attempted murder, by the way? “He scoffs. 

I lay on the marble floor tirelessly, “Fuck you.“

“Yeah, when? “Jaxon laughs.

Rick comes out of the room with Ingrid, trembling, but she's now in a black robe for customers. 

She’s in oblivion as she scans to look at me in hatred from head to toe, and again. 

Yes, bunny, encapsulate my black tight shirt and drenched pants that must've printed my penis by now. 

“What? “I tease. “Dark hair, blue eyes, twice as large as you—do you miss me? Do I look fuckable, Bishop? “

Before she could even respond, I stormed out to her and grabbed her neck as I cornered her against a wall. None of the boys tried to stop because if they do, I will kill them. 

She whimpers in pain as I tighten my grip. This poor white bunny. 

I thought of something creative. 

I pulled out my iPlay Pirate 20000 vape and took a long, deep puff. This shit is expensive.

I kneed between her thighs just because I feel like it. “Grind your clit down my knee,“ I asked remorselessly. 

“N-no.“

And I choke her hard again. 

Jaxon tried to get in between, but he just couldn't stand my way. 

“Man, stop now—

“Grind.“ 

She did as asked. Trembling. Tears cascading down her cheek. I can feel her pulsating and warm.

“That’s a good little whore.“ 

“Part your lips.“ When she didn't, I bit my vape and used my other hand to thumb-apart her lips, and she started sucking it in oblivion. 

“Good girl, Bunny.“ With her mouth still open, I puffed my vape and blew into her. 

Smoke dwindles around us. I do it to her again and again. Her lips touch mine, but I shove and use my tongue to transfer smoke to her.

“Jace—“ Before she could even speak, I smoke shotgunned her again; her eyes started to roll in suffocation. 

She chokes and pants from the smoke. I had a puff and blew again. I could do this every day. 

It’s like two-timing my two addictions. Smoking and fucking Ingrid Bishop. I relentlessly do it to her again and again every time she tries to speak. And once I broke it off, she fell to the ground. 

Insatiable. I am insatiable. 

“I only heard of smoke shotgunning in the Gang,“ Jaxon started. “That was hot.“ 

I smiled in appreciation. 

We’re just getting started, bunny.