Page 43 of Conan
“Yeah,” he answers.
“Looks like Luna isn’t the only good therapist in my life,” I tease, pinching his nipple.
“Hey! That hurt,” he pouts.
Shifting to where I’m laid flat on my back, my head resting on his shoulder where it meets his armpit, my body still tucked into his, I answer his earlier question, “My workouts and fights increased until the pain and memories became a distant, dull roar in my head. My heart soon followed that path, and the next thing I knew, I was living life.”
“Why haven’t you ever mentioned to anyone before now that they’re no longer a threat? You kept that to yourself, I’d like to know your reasoning for that, goddess.”
My lips curl upward at the name, it fits the way he sees me, and now that I’m able to envision myself the way he does, it makes me feel like I’m floating.
“Because they don’t matter… not anymore,” I remark. “Do you want to know why I never reported them and stayed in their household?”
“I know why, Demi, it was because of Luna.”
“Yep,” I say, popping the ‘p’. “For the first time since my dad abandoned me, I found somebody I wanted to stick around. There was something about her, something unique, and we had an immediate spiritual connection.”
“Your relationship with each other reminds me of mine and Marcum’s,” he states. “You girls may not be related by blood, but you’re sisters nonetheless.”
“We are,” I say, snuggling into him.
“Sleep, Demi. If I’m not here when you wake up, I’ll be with my brothers taking out the trash.”
“Okay,” I reply through a stifled yawn, my limbs and lids growing heavy as sleep drags me into a euphoric, dreamless slumber.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
CONAN
I’m sitting backwardin a hardback chair, sharpening my knife, while Risk and Hemi do their torture/interrogation thing. It’s a sight to see, no joke about it.
This is what they excel in, Marcum and I are no slouch in that department either, but for now, I’m enjoying the show. My turn will come, but I want them nice and afraid before I bring out the tools of my trade.
The more, the merrier.
Chainsaws, scalpels, pliers, tweezers, welding equipment—I’ve invested in them all. Some are more for show than action, the sound of the chain rotating through the saw is enough to get most grown men talking.
We waited for the drugs to wear off, it didn’t seem to affect them in the same manner as they did Demi, which has me wondering if they had gotten ahold of something stronger and longer lasting than what we did.
Wish I knew what they gave her so I could shove it down their throats, but all four of them have been tight-lipped—so far.
We’ll change that, but it may take some time because they’re all afraid to speak. Can’t say as I blame them considering the more we know, the more we’ll make them hurt.
Seeing as my goddess can’t recall the entirety of the night, I bet it was pretty brutal. Two of these damn pussies even have wives at home, there was no reason for them to cruelly violate her in the manner they did. I mean, they took vows, for fuck’s sake!
“Does your wife know how abusive you are, David?” Hemi asks, punching David in the kidneys with a set of brass knuckles slid over his dominant hand. “Do you drug and rape her too?”
David doesn’t react or open his mouth, instead, he stares into an abyss only he can see, his eyes completely emotionless.
“Maybe she needs a real man to fuck her. What do you say, David? Should I pay her a visit?” Hemi asks, tormenting him.
That is what it finally takes to get a rise out of him. He spreads his lips open, gurgles up a loogie and spits the slimy mucus at Hemi.
“We’ve got a live one,” I joke, as Hemi shuffles backward, and I continue to steadily swipe my knife across the whetstone.
Midas claps his hands together, laughing as he tosses a rag to Hemi so he can wipe his face, “Guess he doesn’t want his wife to know what she’s been missing.”
