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I regret to inform you that your grandmother died in captivity; however, your brother is still safe.
The only way I’ll ever get free is to kill my dad and his psycho sons.
She continues slicing something on the chopping board, using the precision of a sushi chef. I glance over her shoulder to see what she’s cutting, and my heart stops. It’s a severed penis.
“You’re making a sandwich?” I ask, incredulous. She nods. My stomach churns. “Why?” “They need to know I’m not afraid.” “The voices in your head?” I whisper, my pulse quickening.
She’s like a cat that’s eaten the proverbial canary and gives no fucks that it has feathers sticking out of its jaw. At the third bite, something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us and pry the shit out of her hand. “You are not eating a cock sandwich,” I snarl. “Not in this house.”
“A man came to the window,” she says, her voice distant and flat. “He was rude.” “He touched you?” “I stabbed him in the eye.”
“You can’t go around stabbing every man who shows you disrespect,” I say. “Why not?”
This reaction to nearly killing him is unexpectedly arousing. I want to do it again.
He was a creep whose eyes I wanted to scoop out with a rusty spoon.
It’s just one kiss. Just one taste. “Fuck it.” I lean down and press my lips to hers, and instantly regret it. Kissing Seraphine is like finding home. As I pull back, she loops the tape measure around the back of my neck and holds me in place.
“You’re mine,” he says, his voice dangerously low. “Who do you belong to?” “L-Leroi,” I reply with a whimper. “Good girl. See how well you’re gripping my cock? That’s your cunt inviting me in, welcoming its new owner.”
“You cared for me even back then?” “From the moment I saw you in the dark,” I say, my voice choked.
