The Camp (Chateau 2)

She finally placed her palms against the earth and pushed herself up, wearing the camp outfit she’d been dressed in before she arrived. It was a black tank top and loose waterproof pants. Her arms shook as she got up and slowly rose to her feet. She looked around at the guards, obviously recognizing Alix. Then she turned to look at me, as if she expected another nameless face. But then she stilled, her eyes rigid and fixed in place, her breathing nonexistent.

I couldn’t describe this rage. It made my blood boil, my chest ache with every breath, made me breathe like a knife had punctured one of my lungs through my back—because she’d stabbed me. Affection had spoiled into hatred, and I could honestly say I hated this woman, that I wanted every bad thing to happen to this woman—because she deserved it.

She started to breathe again, looking at me with eyes that slowly started to water. “Magnus—”

My body instinctively reacted to the sound of my name, the name she only knew because I’d shared it with her. She humiliated me further, right in front of the guards who had no respect for me after I let a wet pussy control my dick. Both of my hands reached out to her throat, and I grabbed her tightly, choking her with a grip so hard I thought I might snap her neck.

Her hands immediately went to my hands, and she tried to pull them off.

I slammed her down onto the ground and continued to choke her, right on top of her so I could watch the life leave her eyes, watch her suffer so my suffering would be more bearable. I pushed her head into the earth, my hands about to pop her skin. “Don’t speak to me. Don’t look at me. And don’t you ever say my fucking name again.” My hands released her throat, and I got back to my feet, breathing through my anger, feeling the adrenaline leave my heart and circulate everywhere else.

She rolled onto her stomach and heaved into the ground, gasping for air, coughing as she felt her neck with her fingertips.

The guards stared down at her.

I didn’t do it for show. I didn’t do it to earn back the respect I’d lost.

I did it…because I fucking wanted to.

Four

War Begins

I wasn’t her guard anymore.

The position hadn’t been offered to me intentionally, but even if it had, I wouldn’t have taken it.

I was no one’s guard.

Now, I was the leader of the camp, overseeing day-to-day operations, managing the cocaine that came in and out. Every single ounce was closely monitored, and I had to make sure the prisoners weren’t stealing any to snort in their cabins, and I had to make sure the guards weren’t doing it either.

I wasn’t certain when I would leave again.

Fender knew I didn’t want to be at the camp, which was why he kept me there. He wanted me there—with her.

I went to the clearing and examined the completed cocaine packets. They were preweighed in certain amounts and organized because it was much easier to give to our street distributors in their desired increments. Some clients wanted more, some wanted less.

I never bothered to look at her.

Despite the heat, we still wore the same outfits. It was easy for us to recognize one another, but for the women, it created confusion. And they never really knew when they were being watched.

When I felt a stare on my face, I lifted my chin and looked across the clearing.

She stood at the table, her next box ready to be carried when a spot opened, and she stared at me openly. Her dark-brown hair was flat now that she was back to her life at the camp. She had no hair accessories like she did at her apartment, so her long strands hung down her body in disarray. Her skin was fairer than it used to be because being indoors had lightened her complexion. Her eyes were blue and innocent, like a porcelain doll that had been sitting on a bookshelf in her office. The longer she stared, the more her breathing increased. Her eyes held emotion that was easy to read because I was so accustomed to every little reaction she made.

I dropped my gaze and ignored her.

She meant nothing to me now—absolutely nothing.

I stepped into the cabin that held the break room, where the guards stopped for snacks and water throughout the day. It was right next to the clearing, so they could come and go and use the restroom if they needed it. It was also the place where we kept some weapons, like the bows and arrows, so they were easy to retrieve if a fight broke out.

It was evening now, after dinnertime, and I stepped inside to see the guards sitting at the table, their hoods down, beer and snacks on the table, along with a pile of poker chips. My companionship had been disowned, so I never expected an invitation to join. They’d once respected me as the next in command, but now they spat on me as they passed.