Page 27 of Dubious (Darkly Ever After)
“Don’t believe me, Celeste?” I taunt. “Ask them. Ask your boys who they love. Ask them if they’ll kill me for you.”
Asher chuckles as he lights a cigarette. He blows a smoke ring, and I watch as it dissipates.
River bounces me harder on his cock as he frees my breasts from my shirt. He twists a nipple so mercilessly that I fear he’ll rip it off, but I don’t stop him because violence mixed with sex is comforting. It’s a blanket that warms me when my rage bubbles over.
“Open your legs, Celeste.” River demands.
Celeste shakes her head and presses her knees together.
River laughs as he stretches his long leg, ramming his foot between her knees and forcing her legs open. She screams as River kicks her in the vagina. “I figured you could watch Ella come while you’re tortured, Mother. Wasn’t that your favorite pastime? Watching people tortured and abused while you got off?”
Asher crawls between River's legs and swipes his tongue at my entrance before gazing up at me. “One of Celeste’s clients liked to burn me when I was a kid. He always burned me where it hurt the most and where no one could see unless I was naked.” He hands me the cigarette. “I’ll enjoy watching Celeste scream whileherflesh burns for a change.”
Hearing Asher admit one of the many atrocities the psychotic bitch did to him makes my heart pound with fury. This woman has never thought of anyone other than herself for a single second. She’s never shown these men kindness, empathy, or care. But I guess it makes sense for money-hungry, venomous monsters who manipulate the vulnerable to accumulate power. People like Celeste don’t care what they do so long as they land at the top. She’d be happy being a queen of corpses so long as she was a queen.
I stare at her, tied up and helpless. A brief pang of pity stirs within me. I swallow it quickly because people like Celeste don’t deserve pity. They deserve an eternity of hellfire and horrific torture.
I bend, taking River’s cock at a new angle while Asher has me on the brink of orgasm with his devilish tongue manipulating my clit. I grip Celeste’s knee as River removes his foot from her vagina. Leaning in, I press the ember of the cigarette on her clit.
Celeste’s maniacal screeches would haunt nightmares if you didn’t know what a monster she is. Her torment should cause me to pause. The pungent stench of burning flesh and pubic hair should horrify me. But it only makes me crave more.
Lowering the cigarette, I press it to her vulva. I grip Asher’s blade from his abandoned seat. The knife is caked in dried blood, no longer a vibrant crimson but a darkened rust. I smile at Celeste and plunge the knife into her eye as my orgasm washes over me.
“Jesus,” Alaric whispers, his voice a lifeline in the ocean of my vengeance. He grips the knife handle and dislodges it from Celeste’s eye. He looks at the blade, crimson once again, with her eyeball hanging from the tip. “Ella, you okay?”
I can barely make out his voice as I float back down to Earth, sheltered in River’s arms as he releases inside me. Asher’s mouth latches onto my pussy as River pulls out, and cum cascades from my pussy into his mouth. I’ve had multiple orgasms with these men, but this one is intensified by vengeance and power.
We pull up to the house as Asher rises. River grabs him by the collar and they kiss, passing River’s cum back and forth between them before Asher swallows and offers me his hand.
“So, what are we going to do with her?” River asks Alaric.
Alaric pulls a screaming Celeste from the car. “Anything we want. And when we get bored, we’ll kill her.”
I’m a little shocked that she’s still breathing, but then again, monsters are hard to kill.
“Take her to the wood shop,” I say as I walk to one of my favorite places on the property. My dad and I spent hours there working on minor projects: birdhouses, a doll, and small wooden animals. Anything I could dream up, my dad made for me, and I painted it with wild, vibrant colors.
“Charles was a woodworker?” River asks, brushing his hand over the various tools.
“Yes.” I walk to the back and place my hand on the electric drill.“One of you want to do the honors, or can I?” I ask, my voice distant and sinister.
“No, Ella,” Alaric says as he walks over and grabs the electric drill from me. “You’re not gonna give her this. She’s taken so much from you. I won’t let you kill her. She wants it to be you, but she isn’t your demon to kill. She’s mine.”
I release the drill and nod. “Kill her, Alaric. Kill her so we can bury her.” I walk over to Celeste and kneel in front of her. “You’re going straight to hell, and the demons will suck the marrow of the life you tried to strip from us. My boys will finally be safe from you, and I’ll ensure they know what true love is. Something you’ve never been able to give anyone.”
A blast of liquid drenches my face. Celeste falls to the ground, dead from a bullet through her brain.
The ultimate gift from her son, Alaric.
Epilogue
Alaric (Three Years Later)
Wiser people than me have regurgitated the words “time heals all wounds” throughout history, but I’m not sure of its validity. Time alone can’t do much. Years could pass while you sit and wallow in misery, letting old wounds fester until the infection is so extensive it eventually consumes you. But you can build something greater if you view the past as the path to becoming stronger and wiser, facing the most turbulent truths.
The last three years haven’t been perfect. We’ve all stumbled into pitfalls and relapsed into the men Celeste created, but now we have an anchor. We have our Ella.
When she insisted we see a therapist, none of us refuted her. We’ll always do what she wants, no questions asked, because Ella is our salvation. Through Ella, we’ve finally discovered family, understanding, and compassion. Thanks to us, Ella has found devotion, protection, and unconditional love.