“Dallas,” Charlie said, his voice soothing, as he sat on the bed next to me. I pulled my gaze to him, regret so evident in his face that I almost felt sorry for him. “I am going to cut the tape off you, and see if I can rub some feeling back into your limbs.” I nodded in acknowledgment, as Charlie freed my hands and ankles, which were taped tightly to the chair. He grabbed my arm, stretching it slowly and rotating it, causing me to whimper as a result of the pain and relief I felt from the movement. He kneaded my arms with his firm, skilled hands before making his way down to my wrists, and then my fingers. I watched as he slowly worked me, bringing life back into my arms. When I could flex my fingers on my own, he dropped to one knee in front of me to begin the same motion on my calves.

“I’m dirty,” I whispered, embarrassed as recognition of my disgusting soiled state registered on his face.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said, taking in my filthy clothes and rancid odor. My bottom lip jutted out, involuntarily trembling as the shocking events of the past twenty-four hours finally took their toll on me. I had a plan to stick to. I couldn’t break now. My condition was supposed to be beneficial to my mission. Part of the plan was to make Charlie realize what he had done was a mistake, but as I looked into his eyes, filled with pity and remorse, I couldn’t help but ask the question that burned at the back of my mind.

“How could you do this to me?” I asked, with a sob, as he knelt at my feet. His white hair was perfectly parted, his suit creased to perfection, and his scent was cool and refreshing, while I had been forced to undergo the most traumatic form of torture and was left praying for death, as I sat bound to a chair in the remnants of my anguish. “You did this,” I said gesturing down my body as my sobs intensified at his guilt-stricken face. “And for what? To try and prove that you’re what’s best for me? Do you know what they did to me?” this time Charlie’s eyes dropped from my face, and focused on my feet as he removed my shoes and began massaging them. “Do you know?!” I shouted, springing forward in my seat to get closer to him. He looked away, avoiding my stare, but he couldn’t block out my voice. “They tortured me! Th-They held a towel over my face and tried to drown me! I’ve had to sit in my own fucking piss for twenty-four hours, while you were sitting on your royal fucking throne!” I was crying, screaming, begging him to understand what he had done. As my words penetrated his brain, the images he created to match my story replaying in his mind over and over, his expression became angry. Gone was the look of remorse, and in its place was cold fury.

“Luke never should have left you like this.” The slight widening of my eyes at his comment confirmed his accusation. “I’m not stupid, Dallas. I knew Luke had gotten in touch with Jeff and I knew what his plan would be before he concocted it. He is a fool if he thought for even a minute that he could outsmart me. I am the Alpha and the Omega, Dallas. I am the beginning and the end. God himself doesn’t even reign over me. Luke is a fucking idiot to leave your fate in the hands of someone as unstable as Crazy, and, because of that, look what you have been through. Those people are savages, Dallas,” he spat, standing and stomping around the room as he continued his rant, fueled with rage and hate. Just the sight of him made me sick. He was responsible for this, yet he blamed Luke. “Luke Carmical will never amount to more than what he is; a pathetic waste of air that rides a Harley and plays in the minors. I own the fucking world, Dallas. I have it at my fingertips. The people you have been slumming it with are here for only one reason, because people like me need to step on them to get to the top. So, you tell me now Dallas, in the game of life, who will you choose? Who will win: A man who can give you the world on a silver platter, or a man who can only make false promises, while he drags you from one disgustingly contaminated clubhouse to another?” I looked at Charlie, who now stood several feet from me. His words had cut me deep and it was like salt in the wound, as I played them over and over in my head. I knew he was aware of Luke’s plan, we were counting on it. I also knew how much he hated the club, only because they posed a threat to him, and the truce he had made long ago wouldn’t allow him to do anything about it. The terms he used when he spoke of my family only made my decision easier. I was once like Charlie. I had believed that I was on top of the world, looking down at the people below me, silently thanking them for allowing me to use their lives as stepping stones. But one thing I was not guilty of was blasphemy. Charlie felt superior to God. He considered himself untouchable even by the Almighty himself. He had evaded the inevitable for years, but this time divine intervention would make its presence known in the life of Charlie Lott. If he wanted to portray the role as Alpha and Omega, then I would introduce him to the angel of death. As the cold metal of my gun filled my hand, I answered his question right before the back of his head exploded, as the bullet flew through his skull.

Tags: Kim Jones Saving Dallas Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net