Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

I’m drunk and extremely horny as the song changes to “Bullet Train” by Stephen Swartz. Haidyn has been heavy on my mind. More so than usual. He’s upping his game, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

The Lords have me chasing my tail. I haven’t received any new information lately about what to do or why I’m seeing him. And I’m not a fucking therapist. I’m running out of things to say to him. He’s going to figure out I’m a fraud if I don’t come up with something better than “how do you feel?” or “are you sleeping?”

I snort at that thought.

A man walks up behind me, placing his hands on my hips, and speaks into my ear. “You okay, babe?”

I nod and pull back from him, waving off his concern. “I’m ready to go,” I shout over the music. I’m sweating and want a shower. I’ve had enough to drink for the night.

I’ve been seeing Wesley for a couple of months now. I met him at Blackout of all places. I ordered a drink, and when I turned around to go dance, I ran right into him. We both ended up wearing my drink.

“Okay, come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd over to the bar where a few of his friends stand. He tells the rest of his friends goodbye and then leads me out the back door to the parking lot.

I wasn’t planning on coming out tonight. I was out with a friend having margaritas when he called and asked if I wanted to go out. I thought, why not?

He opens his passenger door for me, and I fall into it. Shutting the door, I look up, and a black bike catches my attention across the parking lot. It’s facing away from the car, and I squint my drunken eyes to see a man straddling the bike.

My heart picks up when I see it’s Haidyn. Even my blurry eyes can’t miss him. He leans the bike to the right and kicks up the stand before he starts it up. The rev of the engine fills the car as Wesley opens the driver’s side door and gets in. As he closes it, Haidyn pulls out of his spot and drives out of the parking lot.

Fuck! I lean back in my seat, blowing the loose strand of hair from my face. Closing my eyes, I run my sweaty hands down my thighs, feeling my skin tingling.

“You okay?” Wesley touches my arm, and I jump.

My eyes spring open, and I take a deep breath. “Yeah.” I give him a drunken smile. I can’t feel my lips at this point. “Just tired.”

The wet spot on my thong tells a different story. I’ve always been curious about sex, but ever since I started seeing Haidyn, my body has seemed to come alive in ways I’ve never known before, and I honestly don’t know what to do about it. Even getting myself off isn’t enough.

“Let’s get you home and into bed.” He starts up his car.

Haidyn has my mind so fucked. I can only imagine what he’d do to my body if given the chance.

Another two weeks have passed. I can’t decide if they’re going slow or fast. I feel like the time between my meetings with Haidyn drags on, but then when the day comes, I’m like shit, I just saw him.

It’s because I’m letting him fuck with my head. The last time I was here, he told me he was going to tie me up, hang me from the ceiling, and fuck all my holes. My body still hasn’t recovered from the visual he gave me.

Parking my SUV, I get out and walk up the steps to the Carnage doors, and the one on the right opens before I reach the last step.

“Miss Hewett?” Jessie looks at me in surprise, dressed in his all-black tux. “Haidyn had me cancel his session today.”

“I got your text.” I woke up to Jessie’s message at seven this morning that Haidyn was canceling. The fucker didn’t even bother to text me himself. “Is he dead?” I ask, only half joking.

He frowns but answers, “No.”

“Then we’re having a session.” I start to walk toward the hall where I know there’s an elevator that will take me to the seventh floor when he stops me.

“Haidyn isn’t up there.”

I huff. “Then where is he?” He can’t just blow me off. I’m here to do a job, and I’m going to make sure I get it done.

He pulls his cell out of his pocket and places it to his ear. “Sorry to bother you, sir…” I roll my eyes. “But Miss Hewett is here…I know, sir. I did—” He pauses and nods a few times. “Yes, sir.” Ending the call, he places his cell back in his pocket and gestures to the elevators. “He’ll see you.”

I drop my head to hide my smile as I walk toward the elevator and step inside. It’s a small win but still a win. I won’t let him think he can bully me around. I’m still going to show up. No matter what. He can try and talk about fucking me all he wants, they’re just words.

Jessie enters and presses B, making me frown. I turn to look at him. “I thought you said he’d see me?” We haven’t had many sessions, but they’ve always been in the same room on the seventh floor.

“He’s in the basement,” he says.

The door slides open, and we’re instantly hit with cold air that makes me shiver and the smell almost knocks me over. “Jesus,” I whisper, placing my hand over my mouth and nose. It smells like rotten eggs.

Jessie is unfazed as he steps off the elevator and leads me down a hallway. He stops at a set of plastic strip curtains and pulls them open for me. “Don’t want you to get dirty.” He nods to my white knee-length dress and pink blazer.

“Thank you,” I mumble, turning sideways to make sure I don’t get anything on me. They look covered in dirt, but it could be old blood, for all I know.

I can hear “Painkiller” by Three Days Grace off in the distance as we walk past a large open room. It’s got recessed rectangular holes in the concrete floor. Reminds me of graves—three side by side. If graves had five metal bars that ran from the top to bottom.

The music gets louder as we come up to another hallway. Doors line either side with metal slots in the center of them that are about hip height.

The smell is getting stronger the farther back into the basement we get, and I try to breathe through my mouth so I don’t throw up and embarrass myself.

“Here you are, Miss Hewett.” Jessie comes to a stop at what looks to be a jail cell that has bars and opens it for me.

“Thank you,” I mumble and step inside. The taste of acid intensifies when I look in the room, and I immediately regret not taking his text message seriously.

HAIDYN

“Miss Hewett, sir,” Jessie calls out over my music.

I’m in a fucking sour mood and didn’t want to put up with Charlotte today. When Jessie reminded me this morning of my meeting with her, I told him to cancel it.

Turning around, I see her standing inside of the cell. Her wide eyes are on the bloody and naked man that lies on the floor.

I take the time to look her over. She wears a white knee-length dress. It’s not like the night I first saw her. This one is more professional. Fitted, but not snug enough to show off what I saw when she was at Blackout. She has on a light pink blazer and she’s got it buttoned in the middle and her short heels match the dress. Her dark hair in the usual bun at the nape of her neck and her makeup light with a soft pink to match on her cheeks and pouty lips.

She looks so out of place. Prissy, high-class city girl slumming it in the basement filled with nothing but filth. The thought of stripping her naked and chaining her to the wall sounds pretty fucking good. I’d like to see what she’d do—just how desperate she would get when it comes to surviving.

“Watch where you step.” I yell at her over the blaring music.

She jumps at the sound of my voice and my eyes drop to her heels. Hers follow, and she takes a step back, removing her once pristine white designer heels out of the puddle of blood she was standing in.

Fuck, I hate how gorgeous she is.

Her round eyes meet mine again before they go to the guy, and she swallows nervously.

Picking up my cell from the counter, I turn off the music and ask, “What do you want, Charlotte?”

The silence now allows me to hear her heavy breathing. “We, uh…have a session.”

It’s cute to watch her stumble over her words.

“As you can see, I’m a little busy.” I push the guy on the floor onto his stomach with my bloody boot. She says nothing as her large eyes remain on him. “But since you’re already here. We’ll call this field trip day.” I smile at her.

Her eyes come back to mine, and she looks fucking terrified. The fact that my cock is hard pisses me off. I need her to run the other way so I can be done with her and this therapy bullshit.

“Field trip?” she whispers, and the guy groans.

My smile widens. “Perfect timing.”

Reaching down, I pick him up and set him in the chair in front of the wooden table. He groans, and his head bobs back and forth. I’ve been in here maybe thirty minutes beating the shit out of him. Just relieving some stress before Jessie informed me I had a visitor.

I push him forward where his head and chest lie on the table and pull his hands behind his back, securing them in handcuffs. Then I go over to my bag and stand behind him. It gives me a great view of Charlotte across the small room. She stands right inside the open door, wide eyes still on him.

“Open wide,” I tell the man and place the gag into his mouth, forcing it wide open and securing it at the back of his head. “Good boy.” I tap the side of his bloody face, and then I return to my bag for a few more things.

“What…what are you doing?” she asks in a rush. “Haidyn⁠—?”

“He’s a liar,” I tell her, and her pretty face pales. “And the only way to punish a liar is to take away his chance at spewing more lies.” I put a pair of pliers into his mouth and grab his tongue.

He begins to mumble and gag as I yank it out, stretching it as far as it will go. His wide eyes look up at mine before going to hers. She takes another step back into the hallway.

“She’s not here to help you,” I inform him. “She’s here for me.”

Charlotte wanted to see a show, so I’ll give her one. The bastard deserves this, but I might be going a little overboard for her. If telling her that I wanted to tie her up in a ball and suspend her from the ceiling while fucking all her holes didn’t work…this should do the trick. Maybe she’s a visual learner.

Holding his tongue out, I pull his chin down onto the table and shove a nail through the middle of his tongue. He begins to scream and thrash in the chair. Before he can pull his tongue back, I let go of the pliers, grab the hammer and hit the head of the nail. It only takes one time to get the nail into the table good enough to where it holds him captive to the wooden table.

I step back, and he gets to his feet, kicking the chair out from under him. He’s bent over the table, screaming and thrashing as he tries to free his tongue with his hands cuffed behind his back. Spit and blood fly from his wide-open mouth.

Looking up, I see her wide eyes on the man, and her small body shakes.

The poor thing doesn’t even notice me walking over to her. Coming to stand behind her, I place my bloody hands on her shoulders, and she jumps. Leaning down, I whisper in her ear. “Watch him, Charlotte. He’s going to rip his tongue in half.” I can feel her trembling against me. “Like a desperate animal that will chew its own leg off to free itself from a trap. Trappers call it ‘wringing off’. Some will even break their own teeth as they chew through their limbs.”

“Why?” She sniffs, and I’m not sure if she’s asking why I’m telling her this or why I’m doing it to the man.

“Because I told you, he lied, and liars must be silenced.” I decide to reference the show in front of her.

The man yanks back, his tongue splitting down the center, leaving the nail still in the wooden table and he falls to the floor from the momentum. Rolling onto his stomach, he gets up on his knees and leans forward as blood and drool run from his mouth. He’s still got the gag in so he can’t close his mouth. He’s sobbing and choking.

“Now we wait and see if his tongue swells to the point it cuts off his ability to breathe.”

She spins around to face me, and I stand to my full height to look down at her. “Is this what you want to see, doll face?” My eyes drop to the death grip she has on the strap to her purse that’s slung over her shoulder and add, “Something new to put in your notebook for next time.”

Her tear-filled eyes narrow up on me before she throws her shoulder into mine and storms down the hallway toward the elevator.

“Whoa.” Kashton laughs as he comes through the plastic strips curtains and almost collides with her. She shoves him out of the way before she disappears through them. He walks toward me and smiles when he looks into the cell. “Was this a show-and-tell session?” He crosses his tatted arms over his chest. “I want to join next time. I could show her a few things.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I don’t know why his words piss me off, but they do. I’ve been in a shitty mood for a couple of weeks now—since Ashtyn returned.

I’ve tried to avoid her as much as I can, but it was inevitable when we went to New York for Hooke’s show. When we returned, she stayed hidden in her room for a week. Then Kashton gave her a fucking cell phone so she can stay in touch with Jasmine who brought up Whitney missing, and Ashtyn demanded to know what happened to her.

I told Ashtyn that Whitney was the one who ratted her out. She deserved to know. Whitney isn’t her friend. Fuck, Whitney isn’t anyone’s friend. That bitch will backstab anyone she can.

Of course, that reunion didn’t go well. Then Tyson and Laikyn showed up and Laikyn offered to fill Ash in on what all she knows. I was done with this fucking day.

“Let’s play.” Kash slaps my back, getting my attention. “Saint and I are leaving tomorrow for a few days, so you’re on babysitting duty.” He informs me of what I already know.

I keep telling myself that there’s nothing I can do about it. That she’s back, and that’s not going to change. She was part of our everyday life once. I might as well play nice. I’ll take her to dinner tomorrow and let her know she has at least one person on her side.

“Yeah, let’s play,” I say, ignoring the sobbing man on the floor. Going over to my cell, I turn on my go-to song, and “Hallelujah” by No Resolve fills the concrete room.

Kashton closes the door and locks us inside with the prisoner. Then he removes the Zippo from his pocket. It’s chrome with a black spade in the center, and inside, it has a skull with 666 across the bottom. He pulls a cigarette from the pack I have sitting on the far counter and lights one up, then hands it to me.

I mumble a thanks as thoughts of the brunette fill my mind and the look of horror on her face. I actually feel sad that she won’t be returning, not after what I showed her tonight, but it’s for the best. My still very hard cock just reminds me that she’s too good for me.