Pieces of Autumn (10 page)

Lust. Curiosity. Fear. Apprehension.

Lust.

"By punishment," I said, carefully, "do you mean that the terms of our agreement..."

"The terms of our agreement stand until I alter them," he said, sharply. "I can do that at any time. But at this moment, I choose not to. You will be punished. It will be fitting, for what you've hidden from me. You'll think twice before you dare lie to me again."

My heart leapt.
 

A moment later, a chill ran through me. Punishment. It was a better option than Birdy, but I still had to consider my fate.

I looked up at him, and said two simple words:

"I'm sorry."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sorry

Tate

Sorry.

What a useless word.

Broken things stay broken. Nothing changes that.

When I was very young, before the world went to hell, in a time I can barely remember - I learned that lesson. Everyone does, at one time or another. These memories are like ancient books, pages that might crumble if you touch them wrong. When I was first taken by Stoker I would revisit them again and again, to remind myself that they were real.

It was a film that my parents used to watch. A regal woman, fiery red hair belying her age, lifted her chin high.
"When did sorry ever mend a harm?"

I remembered that, always, when my parents taught me the importance of apologies and I nodded and did as I was told. I knew it wasn't worth arguing over. But really, why did it matter?
 

Sorry doesn't fix a careless mistake.

Sorry doesn't change what kind of person you are.

A stupid, useless word.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

When I think of
sorry
, I used to think of Daniela. She was the personification of
sorry
, the vivid, blood-soaked reminder of the uselessness of apologies.

Now, my
sorry
is Autumn.

From the moment I saw her, I wanted to say it. To her. To myself. To the ghost of Holland, his face twisted with disappointment at my weakness. But what could I possibly apologize for?

Everything. Nothing. It didn't matter. So many things I could say to Autumn, and none of them would mean anything.

I'm sorry about your parents.

I'm sorry this is your life now.

I'm sorry about me.

I'm sorry about the Viper.

I'm not insane. I understand the Viper is not real. Or, more accurately, he and I are the same person. I am him and he is me. The Viper is my self-preservation. The Viper is my id, or possibly my ego, if you're into that sort of thing. I could argue for either.
 

The Viper watches me while I do stupid things. He smirks and he winces and he grows angry, because when I am punished for my good deeds, we both suffer. We merge back into one body. Just me. Just Tate. And we both howl with the pain.

Don't tell me I'm dissociating. I know the fucking difference. If were dissociating, the Viper wouldn't suffer when I suffered. The Viper is my regret. The Viper is who I wish I could be.

The Viper is my cruelty. But when I hurt someone, we merge again.
 

I'm not fucking dissociating. If anything, the Viper makes me even more aware of who I am. Not less.

The Viper is who Holland wanted me to be. He's the one who gave me that name, a long time ago, hoping to kill what was left of Tate. It didn't work and I hated that it didn't work, because most days there's nothing I would love more than to become the Viper. Always and forever, no more regrets.

But he's not fucking real.

Autumn had just broken the most important rule of all.

"I'm sorry," she said, quietly. Her face was very pale.
 

"Sorry?" I echoed, mockingly. "
Sorry
? That's all you have to say about this?"

"I just wanted -"

"I don't need your excuses," I growled.
 

Red on the edges of my vision. The Viper cracked his knuckles. I knew I was being irrational, and that was just the way I liked it. I hated this girl, I hated her for shining a light on all the dark, private corners of my life. I hated her because she made me remember my weakness.

I'd been alone here for such a long time, nursing my anger, with no one but myself to take it out on. She'd finally given it an outlet. And for that, she would pay.

She lied to me. She put my life in danger. She had no respect - not that that was any fucking surprise.

When she first came, I'd believed the worst. Stoker wasn't usually that obvious, but when it came to me, they were frightened and desperate. They hated the fact that I existed. If they saw an opportunity to take me down, they would.
 

And this girl was perfect for the job. Her fierceness, the intelligence in her eyes, the way she met me eye to eye, no matter what the circumstances. She could kneel, she could bow, but she was never broken. She couldn't be broken.

I used to think the same thing about Daniela.
 

I was wrong.

This girl, Autumn, she was called - she was sent to kill me. I was sure of that.

At first, I thought she knew. But now, I wasn't so sure. Either way, it made sense to keep her close - the viper against my chest. It was better to let Stoker believe their plan was working. That I was beginning to trust her, or at the very least, that I was blinded by my lust.

She had no weapons, and she had no access to mine. That, I could be sure of. But the way she'd lurked outside my room was decidedly sinister. She claimed it was pure curiosity. That was always her excuse. But what kind of woman would be curious about me? What kind of woman would choose to stay here?

No. This was rotten. If I had half a brain in my skull, I'd throw her out to the snakes. I'd let Birdy take her.

This whole thing was just too God damned convenient. Stoker knew. They had to know.

The memory of her bright green eyes, peeking through the crack in the door, made my cock twitch. I wanted to believe that she was excited by me. Intrigued. Aroused. And there was no denying she'd responded when I let the Viper take over, treating her roughly, reminding her who was in charge of her body now.
 

Standing there, watching her eyes wide and afraid, her pulse fluttering next to her throat, I wanted her. I wanted to smell her again, taste her arousal, wrap my hand around her throat while I fucked her.

"I never would have done it, if I thought you would've agreed to protect me after you knew." Her tears were beginning to flow. "I know I don't have much time left. Unless someone else gets to him first..."

"You think I'll be your white knight?" I laughed, loud and harsh. "You think I'd go hunting for one of the most dangerous men in the world, on behalf of some little slit?"

My own words tasted like poison, and even as the Viper licked his lips, relishing the imaginary taste of blood, sickness and self-hatred churned in my gut.
 

"I'm a human being!" she sobbed, clutching at my pant leg. "I deserve to be -"

"Shut up!" I shouted, finally losing my tight control. I wanted to fucking punch a hole in the wall, but I knew from previous experience that was nearly impossible. The last thing I needed was a broken hand - though, of course, this girl would probably relish the opportunity to care for me.

Her eyes were wide and unblinking, but she didn't flinch when I reached down and grabbed her arm, dragging her upright. Her legs trembled beneath her as she stared at me.

"Stop it," I snarled. "Whatever you think you're doing, stop. I'm not your fucking knight in tarnished armor. I'm not a broken man with a heart of gold. I'm pure fucking evil, and you made the choice to shackle yourself to me. Is this what you wanted? To be afraid all the time?"

Her face was maddeningly calm, although her jaw trembled slightly. "I've been afraid for as long as I can remember," she said. "You think this is the worst I've ever lived through?"

Laughing darkly, I released her. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge. You should be more careful with your words."

Raising her head higher, she met my eyes.
 

"You can choose your own punishment," I said, my mind racing, cock stiffening in my pants. "But you only get three chances. If I don't agree to your first three choices, then you have to endure
my
punishment. My choice. Those are my terms."

She swallowed, audibly. "That sounds fair to me."

What the fuck? What was wrong with this girl?

She'd do anything to stay alive. That's what's wrong with her. And you're the sadistic bastard making her suffer for it.
 

I steered her to the edge of the bed and sat her down, settling down next to her and waiting for an answer. A moment later, she stood, pacing the room in thought. I wondered if she was mirroring me on purpose. I wouldn't fall for such cheap psychological tricks, but if she was making an effort - interesting.

After a moment's silence, she cleared her throat and spoke again. There was a hint of a smile on her face. "Send me to bed without supper?"

This fucking girl.

"Very funny." I leaned closer, elbows on my knees. "That's one option down, I hope you're proud of yourself for that."

"How about..." She took a deep breath. "No video games for a month?"

I allowed myself a cold smile, but I was burning inside. The flames were only stoked higher by her defiance, but I didn't dare let it show. My dick was nothing but a distraction. This wasn't about getting off, this was about teaching her a lesson.

Same thing, isn't it?

Why was she doing this? Why did she want me to be angry? Didn't she know she was playing with fire?

"I don't know what you think you're doing," I said. "But this isn't going to end well for you. One more chance. Make it count."

"Well," she said. "I'm already grounded. I'm not sure what else you could possibly do to me. I forfeit."

My fists clenched. God damn it.
Why
?

"Fine," I said, lust clouding my vision. "My choice, then. I hope you're happy."

She was smiling, standing up on her feet, equal parts proud and afraid. A sharp feeling jumped through my chest, but it was quickly gone.

"I don't particularly like this game," she said. "But I can play it, just as well as you can."

"It's not a game," I insisted, standing up and prowling over to her. I didn't care anymore if she knew how badly I wanted to fuck her, how much she turned me on with her disobedience. "You think this is
fun
? You think you're going to walk out of here
laughing
?"

She stood tall, not answering, as I buried my fingers in her hair and gripped hard. Her eyes watered, but she never flinched, or made a sound.

I murmured in her ear. "Have you thought about all the possibilities for your punishment? What if I decided to fuck you until you can't walk? What if I plunder every part of you, using your body until I've got everything I could ever want from you? Until you're ruined? Did you think about that? Did you want it? Is that why you forfeit? Is that why you dared to be so sarcastic with the man who owns you?"

She trembled, her eyes falling closed.

"You can do anything you want to me," she said, softly. "But it won't change the fact that I don't belong to you."

"That's sweet of you to give me your permission," I said, with a dark chuckle. "But I don't need it. In fact, I'd prefer it if you scream and cry and fight back."

Her eyes fluttered open, and I saw that the fear of me had made them pale. "I'm not afraid of you," she insisted.

"That's another lie," I snarled, grabbing the roots of her hair even tighter. "Why, why, why do you do this to me? Why do you
want
me to hurt you?"

Her chest rose and fell, hypnotically, with each breath. She was practically panting with fear, but I swore I could see the stiffness of her nipples through her dress. She wasn't
just
afraid.

She wanted it.

I hated and loved that. Spinning her around, I quickly bent her over the lounge to see the evidence.

"Pull up your dress," I ordered her. "Show me. Show me how much you hate the idea of being my property."

Slowly, hesitantly, she did.

I crouched down, breathing in the heady scent of her arousal. She was glistening wet, her pussy bloomed open with desire, begging for my touch. I fisted my cock through my pants and bit back a groan. God, she was fucking intoxicating.

Leaning forward, I reached up with one finger and flicked the swollen bud of her clit. She screamed, gripping the cushion.

I laughed as I stood back up. "Wonderful. I want you to keep thinking of all the ways I could punish you. Every. Single. One. Let your imagination run wild. Don't touch yourself. If you touch yourself, like you did last night in your sleep, I'll know. So I recommend you don't let yourself have any more wet dreams about me."

She made a small noise of protest, but didn't move. She didn't even lower her dress, because I hadn't yet told her that she could.