Bitter Sweet Hell (Hell Night 2)

“Yeah, but it’s worth it right?”

“Fuck, yes, it is.”

Her giggle sounds sleepy. Leaning forward, I kiss her temple and snag one of the crinkle things she made. I hold it to her lips and she takes half of it into her mouth.

“Just so you know,” I stuff the rest in my mouth and talk around it, “you’re not making these for anyone else. I don’t share well with others and these are too good to share.”

She laughs against my neck and the vibrations I feel from it against my chest send a charge to my heart. In that moment, I realize something.

This woman has captured my heart and claimed it as her own.

JW

EDEN – WOULD YOU MIND grabbing my prescription from the drug store on your way back here?

Me: You got it.

I pocket my phone and let myself inside Emo’s house. I come to a stop when nothing but an eerie silence greets me. He’s here, and so is Grace. I saw her car parked outside beside Emo’s black Impala.

Today is the one day a year that Emo’s at his darkest. Normally it would be Trouble who came to check on him, but he had a couple of patients call in at the last minute with emergencies. We all loved Rella, and we all felt the pain of losing her, but she was Trouble’s sister. Emo feels immense guilt over what he was forced to do to her when we were kids. Because of that, they share a bond. He has better luck calming the raging fire that burns through Emo.

I know right away where Emo and Grace are. My stomach drops as I make my way to the door that leads to the basement. It’s normally locked up tight, but right now it’s cracked open a few inches. Before I take the first step, I hear it. A whoosh and a sickening slap. I take another couple of steps and hear it again. Another couple of steps down the sound becomes louder. What makes this so much more painful is the lack of cries or grunts of pain.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs and look to my left, my fucking heart constricts. Emo has always enjoyed a twisted sex life. I don’t think he particularly likes sex. It’s more of an outlet for him when he feels extreme emotions. It’s not pleasurable for him. He doesn’t hurt his partners, or rather, he doesn’t hurt them more than they want to be hurt. He never goes overboard and the person he’s with at the time knows exactly what they are getting when it comes to sex with him. He likes to feel the pain more than he likes giving it.

Even though Grace is clad in only a men’s black long sleeve dress shirt and Emo is butt ass naked, what I’m witnessing right now has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with a sick sense of punishment. Punishment Emo feels like he deserves.

He’s bent over a table with his hands braced against the surface, his ass facing my way. His head hangs, his black hair falling in his face. Grace is behind him holding a belt. I flinch when she rears back and brings it down against Emo’s back. His back, already full of old scars, is red and raised with new marks. A few of the new marks have split open, leaving trails of blood to run down his back. It looks like they’ve been at this awhile already.

She lifts the belt again, and I take a step closer, ready to put an end to what’s happening. The floor squeaks beneath my feet and Grace’s head swivels my way. Her cheeks are soaked with her tears. She looks tortured by what she’s doing. Grace likes a little pain mixed in with her sex as well. That’s why she’s here. She’s one of the very few who can keep up with Emo and his sinister cravings. I know what she’s doing now is something she doesn’t enjoy. She hates hurting Emo to this extent, but she stays because she knows this is what he needs.

“Enough,” I bark and stalk over to them. I hold out my hand and she immediately places the belt in my palm. Fresh tears fill her eyes, but relief flashes across her face. Emo doesn’t move. He just stays in the same position.

“More,” Emo grunts hoarsely.

“No,” I answer firmly.

His hands fist on the table they lay against.

“Goddamn it, I need more!” he roars.

I look at Grace and gesture to the stairs with my chin. “Go upstairs and call Trouble. Tell him he needs to get here. And to bring Eden with him.”

She nods and looks back at Emo, her eyes full of sadness.

“I tried, JW. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen.” Her voice cracks.

“I know.”

After a moment of silence, she leaves us alone. I pick up Emo’s discarded jeans and throw them at him. “Get dressed.”

I understand his pain. Had I been put in his situation when we were little, I have no doubt I’d be just as messed up as him. But I can’t sit around and let him torture himself like this. He was a fucking kid. He had no control over what happened.

He chucks the jeans back down to the floor.

“You need to finish it, JW,” he says.

“It’s already finished. You’ve had enough.”