Piece Us Together (Monstrous Survivors #3)

22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Maison

It was fine. No, it was good . Fucking great, really. It was sexy, watching Hunter work Nolan over as Nolan sucked me and rutted his bound cock against the bed. Hunter was talking dirty while I sprinkled in praise, giving us all what we needed.

Not for the first time, I got that feeling that this could work. The three of us—not just the sex, but more, everything —could fucking work .

It was working as Hunter had me get off the bed.

As he had Nolan settle in the center of it on his hands and knees.

As he took out the blindfold and secured it around Nolan’s eyes.

As he winked at me and said, “Now you get to guess which one of us is playing with you, darling. Guess right, we’ll give you what you want.” As he tsked, feigning disappointment. “Guess wrong, and your ass gets more red.

As Nolan moaned at the response. As Hunter and I traded wicked smiles.

It was all adrenaline and lust and a warmth inside my chest. It felt safe in the room. I felt safe. Even the ever-growing anxiety I’ve had about the very real, very terrifying possibility that I’m falling in love with him had been pushed to the back of my mind, forced away by Hunter’s demand for me to be present and fully in this with him.

It was working, until it wasn’t.

Until I moved to the side of the bed, wanting to watch as Hunter took the first turn.

Then I wasn’t in Hunter’s house anymore.

With a flicker and a phantom kick in the chest, I was in a renovated warehouse. There were shards of glass and bodies on the floor. There was blood spraying and slaves screaming.

There was Carter— Carter, Carter, where is, there, there he is, safe, he’s safe, leaving, out the door, with Ace now, have to keep moving, have to help, have to help a slave—

A slave bound to a bench, hands and knees, a blindfold keeping him blind to the massacre around him as he shakes violently in fear and confusion.

Nolan.

Oh god, Nolan.

“Stop.” It’s quiet. I can barely hear it myself. I watch Nolan. We’re back at Hunter’s. He’s moaning, whimpering, lips moving wordlessly as he prepares to make a guess.

Lips moving wordlessly as he fights to ask for help.

The word. There’s a word. Red.

Say it.

I have to say it.

I can’t get it out.

I feel frozen.

I have to get to him. I have to help him. It’s my job to rescue him.

But I did rescue him. Months ago. I saved him. I fell in love with him.

Then I brought him here.

I let someone do this to him again.

I fucking helped them do it.

The nightmare from last night comes back in a sickening splash of red.

Your fault.

It’s your fault.

I hear Hunter say, “Maison?”

I snap my gaze to his. My body is shaking. I think I might throw up.

He keeps a hand on Nolan’s back as he steps toward me, like he’s comforting him during the pause. Reassuring him.

Like he isn’t the sick fuck who put him there in the first place.

His eyebrows are pulled together, his other hand reaching out to me. I jerk back. “Red.”

He stops. Freezes completely. Nolan makes a soft sound before fumbling to his knees and ripping his blindfold off.

“Maison?”

“Okay,” Hunter says, his voice calm and placating. “Everyone is okay. Let’s take a breath, okay? Just breathe, Maison.”

“ Red ,” I say again. It feels like the world is tilting. Like everything is mirroring and shattering, so many pieces on the floor, too many for me to put back together. “Red. Stop . Red.”

“Hey, shh. We stopped. It’s done, okay?” Hunter steps toward me, his hand still out.

I stumble back. “Don’t fucking— don’t touch me! ”

He stops and there’s a flash of hurt in his expression before he manages to hide it. His hands go up in surrender. “Okay. Nolan, I need you to—”

“Red!” I nearly roar the word this time, my body starting to vibrate with rage. “Stop fucking bossing him around! It’s over! All of it! Stop! ”

This time, when the hurt comes, Hunter struggles to get rid of it. He looks shattered. More pieces to add to the floor.

I’m sorry. I warned you. I told you I’d ruin it.

You’re going to have to piece yourself together on your own. I haven’t figured out how.

“Maison?” Nolan asks again. He’s standing now, still naked but no longer hard. There are pink marks along his torso where Hunter had hit him with the crop before he flipped him over and moved on to the flogger. His nipples are puffy and red. Bile rises in my throat.

I see him as a slave in my mind, a dual image of the man in front of me,

I need to get out of here.

I need to get him out of here.

What have I done? What have I let myself become?

How could I ever think I was falling for a man who does this to someone?

I’ll fucking kill him.

The thought has a shudder running through me. Panic swells in my chest and up my throat.

I’m a bad person.

I hurt people.

But not him, never him, I couldn’t hurt him.

I look at Hunter just standing there, watching me like he doesn’t know what to do. He’s supposed to know what to do. It’s his fucking job. But he’s just standing there .

“Nolan, get dressed.” I grab my pants from the floor, my hands shaking so hard I nearly drop them. I’m going to be sick. Or cry. Maybe both. I don’t want to do either here, though. Not in front of Hunter. He doesn’t get to see me fall apart.

Nolan isn’t moving. “Maison, I think maybe we should—”

“Get dressed,” I say again, giving him a look I’m not sure I’ve ever directed at him before. The look I use when I drag myself into the shoes of team leader and take control. He blinks, looking almost startled.

I’m already dressed as I watch him gather his own clothes and hurry to pull them on. The rope harness is gone. I don’t know how. I don’t care.

Nolan won’t look at me.

Hunter won’t stop looking at me.

“Maison—” Hunter tries again, my name soaked in desperation and fear.

I need him to stop.

I’m too weak to fight him if he doesn’t stop.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap.

Hunter blinks hard. His hands aren’t raised any longer. They’re at his sides now, curling and uncurling. His chest heaves with every breath he takes.

I look away from him.

“This was a mistake. I can’t do this. I can’t—” I shake my head, bile burning my throat. I grab Nolan’s hand, leading him past Hunter and out of the bedroom. His hand is shaking in mine. I try to keep my mind from spinning out about that. I still take the first chance to drop it when we get to the door, shoving my feet in my boots while yanking my jacket on. I don’t care that it flutters outward, making my gun clink against the wall and giving away its presence in the hidden pocket. Maybe it’s good for Hunter to know I’m armed. To know I shouldn’t be fucked with right now.

Nolan is trying to tug his boots on with still shaking hands, his eyes wild with confusion and fear. There are tears in them.

I did this to him.

I let this happen.

I grab him, only one boot on his feet, his jacket half-zipped. I hold him to my chest, clinging to him like I might fall to pieces without him here to keep me together.

I look over his shoulder at Hunter, the man still standing there in nothing but his jeans, the buttons undone, his hands twitching at his sides as he fights against his desire to touch us. He doesn’t have permission anymore.

Never again.

“It’s over,” I tell him, looking right into his hazel eyes. For the first time since the night I barreled in here with a gun, looking for my brother, I feel nothing but anger for him. I hope he can see that. I hope he’s scared of it. Of me.

“Maison,” he says, soft, a little shaky, his head tilting like he’s pleading, one of his hands lifting just enough to have me stepping back.

Nolan uses the chance to get his other boot on, his eyes watching me warily. “Let’s just go, Mais. Let’s just—we can talk about it later, okay? Just calm down. Okay? I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m safe. Let’s go.”

I shake my head. He’s not okay. I just let him—how could he ever—I—I can’t—I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe —

“Maison, you’re panicking, try to br—” I shove Hunter back, anger rushing over my anxiety, cooling it, replacing it. I get in his face, hands itching to shove him again. To hit him. To wrap around his throat. To beg him to help me—to make this stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. God, please, make it stop. “I. Said. Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Us.”

“Okay.” He puts his hands up, surrendering. There are tears in his eyes.

Good.

Bad. Really fucking bad. The worst.

This is Hunter. I don’t want to hurt Hunter. He’s—he’s important. He’s my—our—he’s our—our—he’s just…our…

He’s ours.

“He can’t drive like this,” Hunter murmurs, his chin lowered in submission, hands still up. He isn’t speaking to me. The words are for Nolan.

“I can drive,” Nolan says as he wraps a hand around my arm, gently pulling me away from Hunter where I’ve backed him into a wall.

A tear is falling down Hunter’s cheek.

Please don’t cry.

I didn’t mean to make you cry.

Everything is falling apart.

I’m ruining it.

I ruin everything I fucking touch.

“Are you okay?” Hunter asks in a shaky voice. He’s looking up just enough to peek at Nolan. “Where is your head, Nolan?”

“I’m good. I’m okay. I just need to get him out of here. Get him home. I’ll—we will call. Later. Or tomorrow. We’ll call.”

He won’t answer, Nolan. He won’t want to talk to us.

I ruined it.

I ruined this for you.

Ruined this for us.

Nolan steers me outside. The air is sharp. It hurts my face. Hurts when I breathe. Good.

He’s quiet as he drives, his hands slightly shaking.

He’s not crying.

I’m trying not to cry.

“The blindfold?” he asks when we’re close to home.

I close my eyes, seeing him again, seeing the way he hadn’t been relieved to be rescued by me, how the relief hadn’t come until Travis showed up, how he’d looked shattered when all Travis did was take his collar away and force him to be free.

“Yeah.” I swallow, tasting bile and fear on my tongue. “The blindfold.”

“I don’t remember it being a limit…”

“It wasn’t.” I picture Hunter, the look of fear on his face, of hurt. “I didn’t know.”

The car stops. We aren’t home, but we’re on the long dirt road that leads there.

I force myself to look at him. I think I lost the battle. I think I’ve started to cry now.

I ruin everything.

“I’m not upset. That’s what safewords are for, Mais. It’s okay that you used it. It’s okay .”

I look away as I remember how he used to touch his throat sometimes, expecting there to be something there, or maybe even wishing there was. Was he hoping Hunter would give him a collar someday? Would Hunter do that? Would I be able to stomach it?

Does it even matter?

I’ve ruined it.

Hunter won’t want us anymore after this.

“I’m okay,” he says, his hand touching my cheek. It slips a little, the skin wet with tears. “Hey. Babe. I’m safe. We both are. Okay? We aren’t there anymore. You saved me.” He laughs, low, soft, a little sad, a little fond. “You keep saving me. And I’m saving you right back, okay?”

I look at him. He smiles at the eye contact, but there’s more in his eyes, a fear he’s trying to hide, disappointment he’s trying to ignore.

Everything.

Everything I fucking touch.

Ruined.

“I love you, Nol.”

His smile is wobbly, but he at least sounds honest when he says, “I love you, too.”

I don’t know if that’s enough. Not with everything shattered at our feet.

My heart breaks.

Maybe it’s been breaking all along.

Maybe it’ll never stop.

“We’ll be okay,” he tells me, like he can hear what I’m thinking. Maybe he can. Maybe he’s thinking the same. “Whatever happens—you and I will always be okay.”

I don’t know if I can believe him.

I don’t have another choice.

We have to be okay. I won’t survive anything else.

I’m just not so sure we can be okay without Hunter.

What if we were wrong, this morning? What if there wasn’t any time left? What if it was already too late, what if we’re already too far gone for him?

What if we went and fell in love and now he’s no longer an option?

What if this time around, I ruined everything in a way that I can’t fix?

I pour myself into Nolan, figuring it’s the least I can do after ruining his shot at true happiness. I make sure he gets lunch and water. Make sure he gets warm, comfortable clothes on. Make sure he’s cuddled up in bed with his favorite show on the TV. I tell him he should rest, since we both woke so early and had quite the emotional morning.

He asks things like, “Aren’t you hungry, too?” and, “Should we talk about it?” and, “Did you see the text from Hunter?”

I say things like, “I ate before you woke up,” and, “There’s nothing to talk about,” and, “I haven’t checked.”

Lies. All of them lies.

Hunter had texted us in a group chat, asking us to check in when we could and to let him know we’re okay, with an additional reminder that he’ll be by his phone if we need anything. He’d texted me separately asking if we could please talk about what happened and apologizing for anything he did wrong.

I deleted the texts. Both threads, actually. Deleted his number along with it.

Nolan says, “Maison, I’m scared.”

I say, “Baby, I won’t let anything bad happen to you again.”

He says, “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

I ask, “Do you want another blanket?” I ask, “Is the TV too loud?” I ask, “Do you think you can get some rest?”

He says, “Only if you come lie down too.”

I lie down, tucking him against me and pressing soft kisses to his messy hair. He watches his show. I stare at the wall beside the screen, wondering if my nightmares will get better now that I’ve stopped things with Hunter. Then again, they were pretty bad even before Hunter.

Maybe I should talk to Dr. Singh again. He’s never helped me much, but he’s helped the others a lot. Travis swears by him, which is saying something.

Or maybe I should talk to Hunter—shit, wait, no, Hunter isn’t an option. How did I forget that already? Is he that ingrained in me? Is it really too late?

I close my eyes, determined to fall asleep.

This time, the nightmare isn’t set in my childhood home. It’s not me unable to save Carter and Nolan.

This time it’s just me and Hunter.

And even in my sleep, I’m ruining everything.