Sick Fux - Page 69

My eyes widened. It was better than the blue drink? I snatched the vial to my chest, then pushed the glass to the dripping cut on his neck. Excitement grew inside me as the blood filled up the vial. When it was done, Rabbit took the glass bottle from me, secured the cork and tied the ribbon back around my neck. I reached up and felt the bottle—it was warm.

Rabbit took my blade from the mattress, and with one quick swipe, he slashed the knife across his palm. He made a fist, and blood dripped to the linen. “Hand,” he said. Immediately, I held out mine. Rabbit stared at me. With an equally quick swipe, he sliced the steel across my palm. I hissed at the sharp, stinging pain.

Rabbit leaned forward and stroked my cheek with his bloodied hand. His lip hooked as though he would smile. Then he grabbed my hand. He slammed our palms together and brought them up high. My eyes locked on the sight, and I felt the warmth from his blood mixing with mine. Rabbit moved his head closer and ran his nose over my forehead. “A pact, signed in blood,” he said and inhaled the mint shampoo scent from my freshly washed hair. “Your contract with me . . . telling me that you belong to me now. My little Dolly darlin’, your blood merged with mine. Your blood running with mine, through my veins, bringing me your light.” His nose ran down my cheek, and he smiled in victory. “And my blood now runs in yours. My darkness . . . my blackened soul polluting yours, bringing you over to my side. My Dolly . . . after all these years, mine. Succumbing to my will.”

“Yes,” I said dreamily, as I swayed, seduced by his words, by him being so close, skin on skin, sharing our blood.

I smiled and looked up at Rabbit looking down at me. “Always one.” I pulled him down to the bed, facing him, our hands still joined.

My eyes wandered to the blood on my hands, and my stomach suddenly fell. I squeezed my eyes shut when images began assaulting my mind. I shook my head when I saw things I didn’t want to see . . .

“Tie her down. Do it before she makes a fucking show and draws unwanted attention.”

A hand hit my face and my head spun. The taste of blood sprouted in my mouth. I blinked and looked to my left, and then to the right; the same face stared at me from both sides. Two identical sets of hands held my wrists. Uncle Jeffrey and Uncle Samuel. My identical twin uncles were pinning me down. I tried to see what room I was in. I didn’t recognize it. A door opened behind me, and I heard footsteps approach. But my head was foggy. My papa had given me a cup of tea. But the tea made me feel dizzy. It made my head all fuzzy and my eyes struggle to focus.

“Keep hold of her.” I looked down at my feet and saw my papa standing there.

Then I saw him. Uncle John moved beside me, and I shuddered. I didn’t like Uncle John. He came for me every night. I didn’t like what he did to me in the room opposite where Heathan used to be taken.

Before he left me.

My eyes filled with tears as I thought of his face. As I thought of his eyes. As I thought of—

“I thought you said she was on a shot or some shit?” Uncle John said to my papa. His hand came out and stroked my head. I hated his touch. I wanted to pull away. I tried, but Uncle John’s face snapped my way and his fingers wrapped in my hair. He yanked my head back to face him. He bent down. He made it so our noses were touching. Then he kissed me.

His free hand slid down to my stomach. I felt his hand on my bare skin. I was naked. My heart raced as I looked at my twin uncles pinning me down. At my papa talking to a man in white at the side of the room . . . at Uncle John petting my stomach.

“Too bad you can’t keep this, Ellis,” he said and smoothed his hand over my hair. “She would have been just as pretty as you. Blond hair. Blue eyes . . . pale skin.” He closed his eyes and smiled. My stomach rolled. “And she would have been mine. Mine to have. Mine to raise. My pretty half, Ellis.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about. I tried to think through the fog in my mind, but I couldn’t. “Don’t worry,” Uncle John soothed as he kissed my cheek. “The doctor is here to make it all go away.” He shushed me when I tried to open my mouth to speak. Panic filled me. There was a doctor? Why was there a doctor here?

Tags: Tillie Cole Erotic
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