Beautiful Fiend: Chapter 32

Sawyer opens his front door, and his puzzled gaze makes him look dumb. I hate every time I have to come to his house, but I do enjoy the stupid look on his face.

“Unexpected,” he says as he steps aside to let me in.

“I’ll be quick. I got somewhere to be tonight.”

We walk to his living room, where he sits on the sofa. I stay standing, looking down on him.

“Arms dealing is going on hiatus until further notice,” I say. “No more picking up from the Wolves.”

He rests his ankle on his knee and spreads his arms on the back of his sofa, trying to act relaxed, but I can see how confused he is. “Why’s that?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because your dick is addicted to an NSC bitch you mean?”

I chuckle to myself, then tilt my head to observe him. He’s the biggest coward I know, and yet he still gets to stay at the head of our crew until my sister comes back. Now I have to let him live after insulting Billie. Fucking ridiculous.

“Call my girl a bitch again, Sawyer. Just to see what happens.”

He’s not stupid enough to do it twice in front of me. Instead, he moves position again, showing he’s anxious about the situation, and rests his elbows on his knees as he leans forward to talk.

“Look, I’ll give it to you. I was dumb for not wanting to do get into arm’s dealing before. You were right, it was a great idea. We’re doubling our money, and we’re all profiting from it. You know what that means. We can’t stop now. Everything is working perfectly.”

“If you want to keep doing it, find a new mule.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” he snorts. “You found the perfect one. Why would I change that? There is no one else from NSC who will ever do this for us.”

“Billie won’t be moving anything ever again. You heard me.”

I don’t need to convince him. She won’t do it, period. I turn around, ready to leave, when he talks again.

“You’re the one who put her in this situation, Cade. You’re the one who assaulted her and filmed it. Who blackmailed her into working for us. Just because your dick convinced your dead heart that it cares, doesn’t change anything for our crew. That’s your problem, not the Kings’. You don’t want her to do it? I don’t give a shit. I can blackmail her. I can make the bitch do anything I fucking want.”

Two steps, and I’m on him, smiling down as I punch him three times in the face. He grunts, falling back on the sofa, but I grab him by the t-shirt and hit him another two times. Just in case he didn’t get the message. He’s a big man, but I’m too fast for him to do anything.

“That’s what happens when you call her a bitch twice. Wanna try again? See what I do next?”

As he gets his bearings again, I pull my phone out. The fucker just made me realize something.

“You’re right, Sawyer. I blackmailed her.”

I pull up the videos I have of her. I might have shown them to him in the past, but I’m the only one who has them saved. I wave my phone at him before deleting them.

“Gone. What are you gonna blackmail her with now, motherfucker?”

I hit him one last time before I leave. If I don’t go now, I’m going to kill him, and it’ll fall back on me. Plus, I need to be somewhere else.

I park my car next to the ones I would never be able to afford and look around. The Bakers’ residence is not something I could even dream of. I didn’t even know this kind of shit existed. I was here last week to pick up the first half of the cash, but I think this kind of mansion never ceases to impress. The grand, French-Chateau style would look tacky anywhere else, but in Stoneview it just makes them fit in even more. The larger the house, the bigger the privileges.

I slither my way between the parked cars and look inside. If I could steal even one of them, I would probably be set for a few years.

Ringing the doorbell, I tilt my head to the side as I observe the intricate carvings in the thick, double-wooden doors. Who the fuck puts dogs, hunting foxes and deer on their front door? It makes me cringe at how rich they are.

A butler opens the door, his nose up in the air and his eyes looking down at me.

“Welcome to Mister and Misses Gerald Baker’s residence,” he says haughtily enough, where you’d think he’s the one who lives here and I’m the butler.

“I’m working the party,” I tell him as if this whole situation didn’t affect me.

“Right,” he says with a pinched smile.

“I got it, Fred,” a bright female voice calls behind me.

He steps to the side and bows his head at the young girl behind me. She can’t be more than sixteen or seventeen. Are these guys hiring underaged girls? Fuck, that shit isn’t gonna run with me, and I can’t afford to leave this party with a murder charge rather than the money I came for.

“Miss Baker,” Fred says as he disappears further into the hallway. That’s when my eyes take in the huge family portrait behind them.

Gerald is in a suit, sitting down on a throne-like armchair. Behind him, his wife has a hand on his right shoulder, and a young teenage boy is on his left, his arms limp by his side. He has the same look as his dad; light blue eyes and blonde hair so light they could be white. The forced smile on his face makes me twist my mouth. Rich people are so unhappy. On the floor, her legs under her and her arm resting on her father’s lap, is a little girl who looks exactly like the woman in front of me. She’s older now, but she still has that look in her eyes—fear masked by fake sweetness.

“You’re his family?” I can’t help but choke out. Why would she be involved in this in any way, shape, or form?

She shakes her head and gives me a small smile. “I would suggest not talking to anyone if you want to have a half-decent night.”

Her baby blue eyes darken slightly, pity clouding the color. She puts a strand of white-blonde hair behind her ear and jerks her head. “Come. I’ll show you where they want you to get ready.”

We start walking and she tries her best to make me feel comfortable despite it being completely impossible.

“What’s your name?” she asks in a sweet voice.

“Caden. You?”

“Ella.” She keeps walking ahead of me, knowing her way perfectly in the long hallways and complicated architecture. Gold, cream, and dark wood are the only three colors they use in this house, and everything looks like it belongs in an antique shop.

Apart from the painting in the entrance hall, this house has no personal belongings. It all looks expensive and portrays their wealth, but there is no fun, no life. It’s all so bland, so sad. My house has colors on the walls from drawings Kay and I did as children. Markings that have witnessed our heights over the years. Even the holes in the walls and stains on the carpet remind us of the darkest moments that have shaped us. Moments when we felt alive. This place feels dead. Like the souls of the people who’ve been here are stuck in the walls and secret passages.

Ella stops by a door and turns back to me. I don’t know the girl, and I don’t care about her, but I need to know. “Are you even eighteen?” I ask with disgust.

She smiles, lips tight but making it as genuine as possible.

“This is your room,” she ignores my question. “There are four other people in here. You don’t have to talk to them or give them your identity, but it’s not forbidden either. There’s an outfit for you to wear. It’ll have a sticker with your name on it. Just…wear it. There’s no point in having any sort of rebellion. To be honest, that’s what they want out of you. They’ll love making your night worse than it is.” Her shoulders hunch slightly, and a certain shyness comes over her despite the strong face she’s been keeping until now.

“There is, um, lube. I would suggest using it now so you can,” her gaze is glued to the floor as she looks for her next word, “prepare yourself.”

Knowing the rules and the game I agreed to play in there, none of this surprises me. No, I’m stuck on one thing I desperately want to know.

She opens the door, and I ask as casually as I can, “Do you go to Stoneview Prep?”

“Yea—” she stops herself, realizing she answered without thinking just to tell me the truth I already assumed.

Putting my hand on hers on the doorknob, I stop her from opening it any further. “What year?” I say low, closer to her ear. I’m behind her, my chest to her back, and I feel her shiver.

“Uh…” she hesitates.

With my other hand, I grab her arm softly. “Senior?”

She shakes her head slightly. “Junior?”

“I retook a year,” she says in a trembling voice. “I should be in senior year.”

“Fucking hell,” I hiss as I let go of her and step back. “You need to get the fuck away from this place. Your dad’s money isn’t worth your sanity.”

Ignoring me, she pushes the door fully open. She’s lost her fake smile and her kindness. “Good luck tonight,” she says tightly before walking away.

I step in, finding three women and one other man. I nod my head as I walk to the last outfit I see on a rack. My name is on it, and I take the sticker off before taking a good look at it. I run my free hand against the leather harness and leather pants. My heart skips a beat when I realize they’re crotchless pants. The lube on the table next to me is sealed closed, and I grab it. Fucking. Great.

It’s Billie’s text I received before they took my phone that gave me courage. A simple I miss you tonight.

I told her I was spending the evening with Ethan and Elliot. As if I would purposely spend time without her. I’m so fucking addicted, my heart feels heavy every time I drop her off at her house. Every time she goes to work, or I go to college. I smell her on my sheets and hoodies, and I bathe in the raspberries and mint.

I run a hand through my hair as I enter the room where the main event unfolds. Naked women are walking around with platters, gags in their mouths as they offer champagne that must cost more than I’m making tonight. They’re forced to hold their platters with two hands since their wrists are in cuffs linked with a chain.

As we have been ordered, the five of us walk to the back wall where five small stages are set, and we step up on them. For now, all we have to do is stay there, move around the stage and present the goods.

I do that for what feels like hours. While the billionaires eat and drink, while they talk business, and laugh loudly. I feel like I’m in The Purge. Except I won’t be killed by the end of the night. It’ll be much worse.

Gerald Baker comes to me personally, showing me to his friend. “Poor boys are always so cheap,” he cackles loudly.

There are only about twenty of them in the room, but there are so few of us. I don’t know how long I’ll last before my teeth shatter from tightening my jaw or before my body jerks into action and I punch someone to death.

“How much did you pay for him?” his friend asks.

“Twenty-five,” Gerald shrugs. They both laugh. At me. At the fact that I was ready to do whatever they wanted for that kind of money.

Gerald points at one of the girls who was in the room with me. Her stage is right next to mine, and she’s on her knees, wearing nothing but a collar and leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Gerald steps to the side so he’s right in front of her. “Whereas I paid almost a hundred grand for a night with this beauty,” he says as he rubs his thick thumb against her lips.

My heart stops for a few seconds. A hundred. Fucking. Thousand. Dollars.

I hate that he’s right. That I was so cheap. It makes the humiliation that much worse.

“She goes to Silver Falls University,” Gerald smiles. “She’s a rich little bitch just looking for a thrill. Aren’t you, pet?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmurs.

“Is that so?” The friend smiles. “Open wide, whore. Show me how dirty you can get.”

I tear my gaze away from them as soon as they both take their dicks out to fuck her mouth. My eyes stop on a woman who’s staring at me. She smiles and comes to me with her husband.

Let the descent to hell begin.

“Hello, pretty boy,” she smiles kindly as she approaches me. “My husband and I have been watching you since you arrived. You look absolutely delicious.”

I don’t say anything, not trusting what would come out of my mouth if I unclenched my jaw.

“Don’t worry,” she says as she runs her arm against my abs, to my pecs, and against my throat. “We just like making love as a three. Vincent and I are very gentle.”

And they are.

Billie is on my mind the whole time Vincent and I double penetrate his wife. It’s slow and so loving I want to puke pink and purple hearts on them.

The rest of the night is nothing like that. It changes as soon as another couple comes to me. Her gaze tells me that she wants her husband to hurt me. I can tell in his that he loves pleasing her.

She runs her hands through my messy hair before grabbing the harness and putting me on my knees. “On all fours,” she smiles wickedly. Unlike some others, she doesn’t introduce herself or him.

She grabs a gag from a platter a woman is holding for her and shoves the ball in my mouth. She pushes so far my gag reflex kicks in. “You’re going to be such a good boy,” she smirks. “I can already tell.” She tightens the ball gag and turns to her husband before grabbing a tiny key in her purse. Undoing his pants, she pulls them down and makes him step out. I don’t know what she does with them; I’m too focused on his cock and, more particularly, the fact that it’s currently straining against a cock cage.

I want to look away, but the morbid curiosity at the back of my mind watches as she undoes the cage and rubs the fucking monster that is his dick, now allowed to grow thicker.

“You’ve been dying to come. Haven’t you, baby?” she tells him sweetly.

“Yes, Mistress,” he rasps.

“On your knees, boy,” she says like she would a dog. “Bark for your Mistress.”

He executes quickly, barking loudly, and I know what’s coming next. I close my eyes, imagining Billie and me in our small house far from here. On the sofa together, watching TV and cuddling.

The woman snapping her fingers forces me to open my eyes again, but it was for her husband. “Go, boy. Go fuck the other puppy.”

Panting like a fucking dog, her husband crawls to me on his hands and knees until he settles behind me and parts my legs.

Think of Billie. Think of being far away. Think of your perfect life.

I’m glad I followed Ella’s advice and spread some lube on myself before coming in. Because with the way it fucking hurts as he roughly thrust inside me…I can’t imagine doing this raw. Fuck, I already feel like I’m dying.

“Mount him, boy. Fuck him like the dogs you two are.”

I close my eyes tightly, but I can’t do anything about her words. They poison my ears, piercing my drums and making everything worse.

“That’s right. Good puppy, good puppy. He’s not hard, grab him. Grab his little cock and fuck him harder. Harder, I said. I want you to make the other puppy cry.”

I signed something that said I couldn’t contact the guests after the event. That I wasn’t allowed to find them. But once Gerald’s given me the money, what can he do about it?

I already know I’m gonna find this woman and her husband and kill them. I’ll make sure it’s painful too.

That’s what helps me not break down completely as he keeps thrusting inside me.