Betrayed by Truths (Truth or Lies 2)

I shake my head. “I’m about to remedy that thought. Because I am most definitely a monster. I’m not going to kill you, but I am going to punish you. And when the games start, I’m going to destroy you.”

I grab her by the neck and slam her body into the wall.

She doesn’t cry out; her body knows how to protect her from pain even though it's screaming out in pain from my touch around her throat. I’ve barely squeezed yet, and she already can’t stand me.

“Punish me, you bastard, but don’t think I won’t punish you right back.”

I laugh. “You have nothing you can punish me with.”

She gives me a wicked look. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re too weak to punish me physically. I know you think you have Zeke and Langston wrapped around your little finger, but it’s not enough. They won’t hurt me, no matter what you want them to do.”

“I know Zeke and Langston wouldn’t lay a hand against you.”

“Neither would Westcott or Archard or any of the men at the club. Your father won’t; he’d lose his job and his life. And you don’t have any friends to help you.”

She looks hurt at my last statement. But it’s the truth. She has no one.

“I don’t need anyone to help me extract my punishment.”

“Yes, you do.” I squeeze tighter around her throat until she can barely breathe.

Stop.

My conscious comes back with a vengeance. Stop, you aren’t a monster. You have to save her from yourself, or nothing you’ve done will be worth it. You will become the one thing you’ve worked your whole life not to be—your father.

“I could snuff the life out of you with just my hand.”

“But you won’t,” she croaks barely getting enough oxygen to talk. She should be terrified. But instead, she licks her lips then parts them practically welcoming me to do what I want with her body.

Because I want her.

I have no self-control left. I want her body. I want to dive into the depths of her body and claim every inch of her. I want to be the only one who can touch her. I want to bring her pleasure, not because she deserves it, but because no other man has. And then I want to punish her ass for letting my friend get hurt.

But you did the same thing. You let her get hurt.

And I’ve gotten revenge for her. I saved her life. And I’ve kept her alive here. I protected her. I kept her safe. And I’ve punished myself plenty, but I know it’s not enough. I deserve to be punished the same as her.

I’ll let her, but first I need to punish her. I need to get the image of Zeke’s lifeless body out of my head. I need to heal my bleeding heart.

“Punish me, Enzo. I deserve it. But don’t think I won’t punish you as soon as you’re finished for what you’ve done to me.”

15

Kai

He thinks he can punish me. He can’t.

I’ve suffered every possible torture imaginable.

I’ve been shot, beaten, stabbed, whipped; the list goes on.

And it wasn’t just physical pain; it was psychological. I suffered alone. I suffered without any comforting touch for years. I went without food. I went without light.

I adapted. My body learned to shut down like a bear hibernates to survive the winter. My body learned to lock itself away only leaving the most vital of organs functioning.

No one can truly hurt me.