Alyssa
"Why didn't we take your bike?" I ask curiously as King drives down the familiar road towards Gray's house in the truck he rarely drives.
His jaw clenches, hands tightening on the steering wheel with a possessiveness that always makes my heart race. "This is safer for you and the babies."
"I'm perfectly safe on your bike," I argue, unable to hide the slight irritation in my voice.
I was afraid of this—afraid he would start treating me like I'm fragile.
"Not safe enough." King's tone is final, but his fingers brush against mine, his touch gentle and grounding. He intertwines our hands, his thumb grazing over my skin in a gesture that calms me. "But if you want to ride during the day, I'm all for it. People are just dumb as shit on the road at night. I'd rather be safe than sorry."
I smile softly, satisfied with his answer. "Okay."
We drive in a comfortable silence, the hum of the truck surrounding us. The miles slip by, my nerves growing with each one. After a while, the urge to break the quiet becomes overwhelming. "So, is this like our first date?" I tease, despite knowing exactly where we're headed—a man Gray and the others have been torturing for days.
He snorts, a soft chuckle in his throat. "Do you want it to be?"
I grin. "It'd be very on-brand for you."
Like when he chased and fucked me in the woods.
Even as I joke, I catch the heat in his eyes when he glances at me, the smirk tugging at his lips. It's a look that speaks of a hunger I can feel in my bones—a promise of something twisted and intense.
I expected some resistance when I asked to come with him, but it feels like he's been waiting for this day forever. Since the moment I suggested it, I've felt the unhinged, electric energy radiating from him. Like we're about to step into one of his most-twisted fantasies.
Though, I know his real fantasy involves Isaac, not the police chief.
"So, what are we doing tonight?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood. "Going to cut off his limbs and make him watch a bunch of hungry hogs eat them?"
He laughs darkly. "Maybe next time. For now, we'll just play with him for a bit. Gray says he's still refusing to talk."
"Hey, don't hold back just because I'm here."
The corners of his mouth twitch, amusement in his gaze. "Didn't plan on it."
The world outside is dark as King pulls into Gray's driveway. The headlights sweep across the familiar path, casting fleeting shadows against the house. The gravel crunches under the tires as he parks, the sound seeming louder than usual in the eerie stillness of the night.
As soon as King cuts the engine, he's out of the car and around to my side within seconds, opening the door like it's second nature. He helps me out, his grip firm but tender, and steals a quick kiss.
"If at any point you wanna leave, just tell me, okay?" His words are low, a whisper against my lips.
"Okay." I loop my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Our kiss deepens, his tongue swirling against mine, the taste of whiskey and the baked chicken we had for dinner lingering on his lips. He pushes me further into the moment, the heel of his palm pressing against my clit with delicious pressure. My hips respond without hesitation, rolling against him, matching his slow, teasing rhythm.
"That's it, kitten," he murmurs, his voice rough as he pulls at my bottom lip with his teeth. "Get all hot and bothered for me. I want you to stay like this even when we're in there."
I don't know if I'll manage that, but the thought of him staying hard throughout everything we’re about to do has me aching for him. Even though we just had sex, my body's already primed and ready for more.
I wrap my legs around his waist, begging for him to grind his erection against me. "Greedy girl," he growls, pressing me harder against the door as he gives me exactly what I want. Our kisses turn hungrier, our groins rubbing together at a fevered pace.
"Did you come here just to dry-hump my sister in the middle of my fucking driveway?"
Gray's booming voice comes out of nowhere and I jerk back from King, a small, startled noise escaping my lips.
He stands a few feet away, his face twisted with irritation and disgust.
King doesn't flinch, his laugh low and apologetic. "Don't be a prude, prez. When your sister has needs, I'm required to take care of them. Isn't that right, kitten?"
Heat rushes to my face, but I stay silent. I feel like a teenager whose father just caught them making out with the biggest bad boy in school. But thankfully, I don't need to explain myself to Gray because I’m a grown-ass woman.
My brother’s eyes narrow, shooting daggers at him. "Don't think I'm above shooting you just because you knocked her up."
King smirks, unbothered. "Please do. I'd love to have matching gunshot wounds on each shoulder."
Gray rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath, as King grabs my hand, guiding me past him toward the house. His presence follows behind us like a shadow, his disapproval thick in the air.
"Why did you bring her?" Gray demands, his voice laced with a calm malice.
"She wanted to come," King replies, his tone clipped, like he doesn’t want to explain shit to my brother.
"She's pregnant, King. Do you really think she needs to be exposed to this right now?”
King doesn't stop walking. "She’ll be fine. I’ve got her.”
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm not here, Gray," I interject, my irritation rising. "I can make decisions for myself, you know."
He grits his teeth, his voice seething with irritation. "Yeah, and sometimes those decisions aren't the brightest."
Before I can fire back at him, we stop in front of the garage and King hands me a pair of black latex gloves. "Have they started looking for him yet?" he asks calmly, watching me put them on.
"Haven't heard anything," Gray answers, his attitude continuing to linger. "But I've got Scout driving the phone a couple states over. It'll take them at least a few more days to realize he didn't just skip town. By then, there'll be no trace of his body left."
The casualness with which my brother speaks about murder sends a chill through me, though I’ve long since stopped flinching at these words. This is my life now. I’ve accepted it. And honestly, it’s better than being treated like a child and kept out of the loop.
Gray's gaze lands on me, his expression dark, foreboding. "I hope you know what you're doing, Alyssa. Once you see this, there's no unseeing it."
I meet his gaze evenly. "I already know that, Gray. I wouldn't have asked to come if I knew I couldn't handle it."
It’s true. I didn’t handle killing Logan’s uncle well when I was a child, but this…this is different. I can feel it. I’ll be stronger.
Gray's nostrils flare, but after a long moment, he nods and steps back. "Good. Clean up after yourselves. I don't need blood tracked into mom's house. That shit's hard to get out of the carpet."
What difference does it make when he's murdering people in the garage? The question hangs on the tip of my tongue, but I know when to hold back.
Locking eyes with King one last time, he turns and disappears into the living room, leaving us alone.
King passes me a Halloween mask with LED lights. I stare at it for a second, utterly confused. What the hell? Do they really get into full costume for this?
"C'mon, kitten. Put it on," King purrs, his lips curving into a wicked grin. "We're going to have a little bit of fun tonight."
Smiling at the psychotic man I love, I slip the mask over my face, dark excitement pooling in my core. King does the same, his own ghost mask hiding his features. My pulse spikes at the sight of him, only his man-bun and huge biceps on display.
Okay, maybe this will be more fun than I thought.
When he unlocks the door to the garage, he glances at me, his voice distorted through the mask. "Stay here."
I nod, obeying without a second thought, as he steps inside. Flipping on the light, he scans the room before reaching for my hand again.
"It's safe. Come on in, baby girl. He's not alive enough to hurt you."
My breath catches in my throat as I slide my hand into his. Together, we step into the garage. The metallic scent of blood hits me first, sharp and immediate. I instinctively stop breathing through my nose, the smell overwhelming.
The next thing I notice is the tarp-covered floor. Large, dark pools of crimson are spread across the plastic. Suddenly, flashes of Logan's uncle— his brain matter and blood staining the ground— flood my mind. I can't push them away fast enough. I swallow hard, taking deep, steadying breaths.
Stop. I can do this.
I'm not weak anymore.
When I finally gather the courage to look up, the knot in my stomach tightens. Chief Phillips—or what's left of him—is chained to the wall, his body a canvas of bruises and blood. His face is unrecognizable, swollen, and battered beyond belief.
Holy hell. They really fucked him up.
King pulls a knife from his pocket, the blade catching the light as he taps it against a pipe lining the wall.
"Wakey, wakey, Gary," he drawls, his voice dripping with cruel mockery. "I've brought you a visitor."
The sound of the blade hitting the pipe makes Phillips sob, a broken, pitiful sound that twists something dark inside me. I thought I'd feel guilty or scared, but I don't. All I feel is resolve, a cold, hard certainty.
He deserves this.
He deserves everything they've been doing to him—and then some.
And today, I get a front-row seat to watch King make him suffer.
As I step closer, Phillips' swollen eyes flutter open. First, rage. Then, fear.
"Who the fuck are you?" he spits weakly, a cough rattling his chest as blood spills from his mouth. "What do you want from me?"
I tilt my head, feeling the darkness unfurl inside me as I pull off the mask. I want him to see me clearly, to recognize who I am now. I'm no longer the weak wife who he laughed at when Isaac hit me and dragged me kicking and screaming to the car.
I'm no longer anyone's fucking victim—but he's about to become mine.
"Hi, Chief Phillips," I say, my voice ice-cold and steady, each word slicing through the air. "Do you remember me?"