Fracture

22. Dylan

CHAPTER 22

DYLAN

The house is dark as I roll my bike down the drive to the garage. Stella’s car is in the drive, but she must be asleep. Thank god. I don’t want her to see me like this, bloody and frenzied, the feeling of Levi’s hands and cock still blazing through my body.

What kind of person gets turned on by death?

I catch my reflection in a dark window, and I know exactly what kind of person does. That sick fucker looking back at me right now.

The garage door closes with a soft thud, and I pull off my helmet and gloves, before flipping on the light switch.

“Rough night?”

The sweet voice sends a chill down my spine, and I turn to meet Stella’s critical gaze. A tumbler of whiskey and ice dangles from her perfectly manicured hand, her hair pulled up on top of her head. She rises to her feet, her body encased in a floaty white slip dress.

She’s an angel, the sun to my night.

She crosses the garage to stand in front of me, her eyes wandering over the mask still pulled down over my face. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to explain to her what just happened.

She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow as she takes another sip of whiskey. Her eyes drop to my hands, then she lifts her fingers to my jacket, pulling the zip down to expose my blood-splattered chest.

“You know, if you want to lie to me, you need to make sure Zee isn’t going to blow your cover instantly.” She runs a finger down my chest, over my tattoos, over the blood staining my skin. “They were very confused to hear that they’d insisted on dinner tonight when it had, in fact, been the two of you insisting they take me out.” Her mouth quirks, and she sips her whiskey, the ice clinking against the crystal. “Needed me out of the way, huh?”

“Stella, I can explain.”

“Was it Iverson?” Her voice doesn’t waver as she asks, her eyes still fixed on my chest.

I swallow hard, and nod. “Yes.” I lift my hand to remove the mask, but Stella stops me with a slow shake of her head.

“How did you kill him?” Her amber eyes move over the black mask. “I want to know what you did.”

I shift on my feet, and shrug the jacket off my shoulders. “We took him from his house, from his driveway, and drove him out on my grandfather’s property, out into the woods to an old barn.” I take a deep breath, sweating under the mask. “I cut his throat.”

Stella watches me with detached neutrality, not a hint of shock to be seen in her face. “Is that all?”

“Stella, I don’t want to burden you with this.”

Her hand traces up my chest, the touch of her fingers setting me on edge. I want to seize her in my arms and throw her down on the ground right now. I want to bury myself in her sweetness and promise her with my body and my soul that I won’t stop until they’re all dead, and all gone.

“I was burdened with all this for eleven years, Dylan.” Her eyes meet mine again, burning into me. “Just tell me he suffered. Tell me he begged for mercy. Tell me he died in pain, afraid.” The cool tone in her voice sends a jolt of lust into my stomach.

“He did.” I lean over her, brushing my mouth against her skin through the fabric of the mask. “I killed him for you, guera . Just like he deserved.”

She shivers, and leans against me. “Thank you.” She exhales softly against me. “Where’s Levi?”

“Cleaning up.”

“Mmm.” Her voice hums in her throat, and her arms wrap around my waist, drawing me close. She doesn’t even care that I’m covered in blood and sweat, that I’m staining her pristine white dress. And suddenly I’m overcome with the need to stain every part of her, to sully all this perfection, this mask she’s been forced to wear her whole life. I want to tear it down and smash it to pieces.

I pick her up, my hands moving up her thighs as they wrap around my waist. “Such a good girl,” I purr against her neck. “Never wearing panties, so I can toy this pussy whenever I want.”

Her head falls back on a moan, my fingers digging into her perfect ass as I carry her to the pool table. I lay her down, and she lies back, watching as I push her dress up around her hips. I hitch one of her legs up over my shoulder, pressing my face against her ankle, her scent wafting through the mask.

I gaze down at her, at perfect, accomplished Stella Langford, her white dress stained with the blood of the man who violated her, who took what wasn’t his to take, who took what she wanted to give me. I meet her eyes and see the same desire that’s clawing its way through my bloodstream right now, the same need and urgency.

My life, my heaven, laid out before me with her dress around her waist and her pussy on display for me, pink and swollen and aching to be fucked. It’s so fucked up, and so wrong, and yet so incredibly right to take my cock in my blood-stained hand, running the blunt head through her slickness, hearing her pant and moan and beg.

“Fuck, I love it when you beg for me, guera ,” I say, pressing just the tip of me into her heat. “You have no idea what it does to me.”

Her back bows, her arms flung above her head. “Please, Dylan, please. I need more.”

“My needy girl.” I push in a little further, gritting my teeth as I try to maintain my restraint, letting her take me in slowly. “You need papi to take care of this greedy pussy? Fill it up with my cum?”

She bites her lip and nods, her eyes squeezed shut.

I withdraw my cock and slap her pussy, her eyes flying open instantly, her hips bucking against the table as she cries out. I should remind her of her safe word, but the fluttering of her lashes and the moan that reverberates deep in her throat as I lower my mouth to her pussy and kiss her smooth skin are so fucking sweet.

“I need those eyes on me, guera ,” I murmur against her skin. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, papi .”

“Such a good girl.” I straighten back up, lifting both her legs so her feet are locked behind my neck. “What's your safe word?”

Her lips curl into a smile as her eyes meet mine. “Martini.” Her mouth opens in a short gasp as I press the tip of my cock inside her, and she’s even hotter than she was a moment ago. Her legs tense against my body as I sink right into her.

“So tight for me like this,” I murmur, raising a hand to the mask, but Stella shakes her head again.

“No, leave the mask on.” Her eyes flash with shy desire. “I like it.”

I growl against her leg, running a hand down to her smooth thigh as I thrust into her. It seems fitting, that this masked face was the last thing Iverson saw before he died like the pig that he was, and now I’m fucking the woman he violated. It's sick that I even think of it, it’s a whole other level of fucked up, but the satisfaction I feel knowing his body is being eaten away by acid while Stella is here and alive, skin flushed and sweet, needy moans escaping her lips - it’s twisted but it feels like justice. A small chunk of it, but one that means everything to me.

She’s mine. She’s ours.

Her eyes obediently stay on me, her lashes fluttering gently as I continue to slide in and out of her. She’s so hot, getting wetter with every thrust of my cock. Her back arches, lifting her off the table and pressing her hips down so she’s even tighter around me.

“Dylan,” she mewls, her hand reaching out to find mine, guiding me down to her. I brace my other hand against the table, and she directs me to hold her throat. “Please.”

My hand that extinguished a life not even an hour ago is now curled around the throat of the woman I love, eliciting nothing but pleasure. Her breaths come in short, sharp gasps, her pussy clamping down on me.

“Come for me, guera ,” I command. “Let me know this is mine.”

Covered in sweat and blood, my perfect girl’s mask fractures, and she claws her nails into my shoulders. She screams my name, her body shuddering, and I slam into her, my release meeting hers. My hand relaxes around her neck, and she sighs, her head turning to the side as her body slumps against the table.

I raise myself off her and finally peel off the mask, running a hand over my sweat-soaked skin. Stella smiles, her eyes closing gently, and I run a hand down her body.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”

She giggles, pushing the hair from her face. “I bet I look like a dream.”

“You do. You are a dream, my dream.”

She turns her face to look up at me, and her expression shifts. “You’re done now, right?”

I pull out of her gently, and my eyes drop from hers. “We should go inside.”

She sits up suddenly, and seizes my face in her hands, gazing up at me desperately. “Dylan, I’m glad he’s dead, but please, you can’t go on some crazy hunt to try and find everyone who ever hurt me. How would you even find them?”

I consider for a moment not telling her, keeping what I know secret. But I’m sick of the secrecy. She’s in this now. She always was, we were just too stupid to see it. I’m not keeping her in the dark anymore.

“Gloria has a diary.”

Stella’s brow furrows, and she shakes her head. “A what? I don’t understand.”

“Gloria knew. Gloria planned it. With your dad.” I stroke her cheeks, the hair from her forehead. “She had a diary, and she wrote all those names down.”

She shakes her head, her brow furrowing. “No, she- she… I mean, she wouldn’t have kept that. I mean…”

“Yes, she would have.” I kiss her forehead, wishing I could make this all stop, make all this darkness go away. “Gloria would have kept it for leverage. I promise you that.” I cradle her head against my chest. “And now we’re going to find them all.”

“No!” She pushes me away with both hands, sending me stumbling just as the headlights of Levi’s car light up the driveway.

I look over my shoulder to watch him enter the garage, his brows drawn together as he takes in the scene before him.

“I told her,” I say, and Levi’s jaw feathers.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, you fucking should have.” Stella slides down off the pool table, raking her fingers through her hair. “Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.”

Levi gestures to Stella with an open hand, regarding me with a thunderous expression. “You see this? This is why we can’t have her in this.”

“We’re in this together,” I counter. “I’m done lying to her, that got us nowhere but prison last time.”

Levi exhales through gritted teeth, shaking his head. “It’s not fucking lying, Dylan, it’s protecting her.”

“Protecting me?” Stella stands beside me with her fists balled at her sides. “I am so tired of you using that as an excuse.”

“I cannot have you getting hurt again, Stella.” Levi takes a step closer to her, and Stella waves him off.

“Stop treating me like a victim, Levi. Stop acting like I’m some pure delicate flower. I’m not .”

“I do not treat you like a victim.” Levi moves closer to her, and takes her hand. “Baby girl, it’s not like that. But you’ve been through enough, I don’t want you going through more.”

“You don’t get it.” Stella yanks her hand away. “You just don’t fucking get it, Levi. You are putting me through more by doing all this.” She gestures to the mask on the ground. “I told you I didn’t want you doing it, and you did it anyway. So now I know, and I’m in it, OK? That was your decision. You caused this, both of you.”

“You think I wanted this?” Levi’s face twists between helplessness and anger. “You think any of us wanted this fucking life? Do you know what it was like being in prison?”

“I never asked you to do any of this!”

“But we did it because we’re fucking animals!” Levi leans over her, his eyes dark and deep and filled with pain. “You want to love us? You want to be with us? Then this is what you get. You get two damaged and broken fucked up psychos who’d murder anyone who breathed near you.” He grabs her hand, and she struggles, but he doesn’t let her go as he presses her palm to his chest. “Here, right in here. You told me you’d never be afraid of what was in here. You told me you'd never be afraid of me . Is that still true?”

Stella twists her arm, trying to fight Levi’s grasp. “Stop it!”

Levi yanks her closer. “Well? Do I scare you? Are you afraid of me?”

“No!”

“Do you love me for everything I am, even if it’s wrong?”

Stella gasps, pushing against him with her free hand, casting a glance over her shoulder at me. “I - I don’t…”

Levi grabs her jaw to force her to look at him, staring her down. “Do you love me?”

Stella nods. “Yes.”

“Are you scared of me?”

“N-no.”

Levi cocks an eyebrow. “No?”

“No. Never. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

Levi strokes her hair, pressing her against him. “You won’t, baby girl. Ever. I swear it. But this is who I am, who we are. And we’re not going to stop until they’re all dead.” He smothers Stella’s protests with his mouth, kissing her ferociously, a mark of ownership. Stella stops fighting him, and wraps her arms around his neck.

“I will never hurt you, Stella,” he murmurs against her cheek, running a hand down her back. “Never. Not you.”

“I know.” She gazes up at him, steely determination etched into her face. “But you have to stop acting like I’m some pure little angel. I’m not.”

Levi’s eyes move to me, taking me in, before looking down at Stella. “Did it turn you on, knowing we’d killed for you?”

Stella’s throat bobs as she swallows, and she nods slowly. “Yes. I liked it.”

“So fucking twisted.” He buries his face in the crook of her neck, and her body arches against him, her hands moving under his shirt. “I love it.”

I leave them alone in the garage, entranced and entwined with each other, to have their moment just like Stella and I did. Desire twists my insides as I head to the bathroom and wash off all the blood, all the filth of what I just did. I know this won’t be the last time I return home to Stella, covered in darkness and sin, trying to convince myself I was smart enough not to get caught.

I collapse into bed, and after a while, I hear Stella and Levi’s footsteps on the stairs. They head for the shower, the falling of the water punctuated by their cries and moans. They don’t come and join me, instead heading for Stella’s room, where the sounds of their fucking continue, until my eyes get heavy and I fall asleep.

Iverson is dead.

And Gloria’s fucking next.