Page 62 of Twisted Heathens

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Page 62 of Twisted Heathens

“Haven’t got all day, Brooklyn,” he goads.

Here goes nothing. Falling to my knees, I undo his belt and lick my lips. I can see his rock-hard shaft straining against his boxers, and I’m just wrapping my lips around his head when a scuffle breaks out. Swearing and bickering has me freezing, dick in hand. We both turn to look as a towering shadow rounds the corner, black hair framing an apocalyptically angry face.

“The fuck, man? Get out of here,” Rio barks.

Bad move. Hudson’s furious eyes take in my position, from my knees resting on the floor to my hands in a very suspicious place, mouth scant inches away from Rio’s erection. There’s no mistaking this scene, he should know well enough what I’m up to. I spent plenty of time on my knees before him once. Publicly and privately.

With a smug smile, I lean in and press a gentle kiss to Rio’s cock. Taunting Hud with my eyes as he watches, his Adam’s apple works overtime and his face turns purple with rage. Doesn’t feel so good, does it, motherfucker? He watched before, in a situation not so different. Only then he got something out of it, the selfish son of a bitch.

This is just me taking back control. One blowjob at a time.

“Something the matter, Hudson?” I ask innocently.

He doesn’t say a word. There’s no need. I see the attack coming from a mile off as his fist sails towards Rio’s face, sending him flying back into a desk. Without stopping for a breath, Hudson advances and delivers brutal blow after blow.

Bones crack and blood sprays as the pair beat each other, and all I can hear is grunting and the sound of fists meeting flesh. It takes all three of Rio’s guys to pull them apart, both sporting injuries and future black eyes.

“You’re fucking unhinged!” Rio yells.

Hudson laughs shortly, spitting blood on the ground and wiping his split lip. “Your point, asshole? Stay the hell away from her. You hear me? Or I’ll fucking kill you next time. That’s a promise.”

Those crystal-clear blue eyes turn to me, tinged with anger and disappointment. How dare he judge me? When he tries to grab my arm, I dodge out of the way, storming off. He soon catches up and yanks my arm, slamming the exit door open.

“Get off me, you son of a bitch!”

Hudson’s fingers tighten on my arm as he drags me along, hard enough that I know I’ll have a bruise tomorrow. “Zip it, Brooke. Swear to God, one more word and there’ll be hell to pay.”

Sparing one last glance over my shoulder as we leave, I catch the look that Rio sends me as his boys run to get security. Fucking tattletale, like he’s the innocent one.

But the look he sends me is downright cold, vastly different after Hudson’s little performance. He pulls my note from his pocket as I watch, ripping it to pieces. Slowly, deliberately, with the threat abundantly clear.

Twenty-Two

Hudson

11 Minutes by YUNGBLUD, Halsey & Travis Barker

Fucking whore.

Filthy fucking bitch.

I’m losing my shit right now and spiralling fast, but hell if I care. That shitshow merited violence, regardless of the consequences. I’d do it all over again, no matter what they do to me. Rio will rat to his bankrolled, corrupted guards just to spite me. Screw him.

The hell happened to my blackbird? This isn’t the girl I remember from St Anne’s. If I didn’t recognise her, I’d say she’s an entirely different person. Where’s the innocent orphan that wore pink pyjamas and fell asleep while clutching old photos of her parents? Or the girl that crept into my room at night with stolen bandages to clean up after the older kids beat the shit out of me?

My precious girl wouldn’t be on her knees, mouth wrapped around another man’s cock, trading favours like a desperate slut. Who am I kidding, I know what happened to her. It’s my goddamn fault. I fucking ruined her.

Shoving Brooklyn out the door, I watch as she trips and stumbles. Good, serves her right. What would’ve happened if I didn’t walk in at that exact second? Would she have let him fuck her against the wall? I feel physically sick just thinking about it. I roughly pull her back onto her feet and she struggles against my grip, tossing every insult under the sun in my face.

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, fisting her hair as she yelps.

I hope it hurts. She deserves it. I ought to bend her over my knee for that shit show back there. She won’t be able to sit down for a week by the time I’m done.

“Let me go or I’ll fucking report you,” she shouts.

Ignoring her threats, I keep walking back across the quad towards home. Refusing to release her, no matter how hard she fights me. I’ve had enough of watching her flounce around, acting like she doesn’t even know me. I’ll break her all over again if I have to, one stupid bird at a time. Whatever it takes to bring her back to me.

“What was he getting for you? Booze? Cigarettes?”




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