Black Thorns (Thorns Duet #2) by Rina Kent

She’s so fucking strong, my Naomi. She’s all alone, and yet, she doesn’t break down or give up. She religiously cleans my wound and makes me drink water. She even whispers soothing words to keep me in the present.

If she weren’t here, I would’ve died a long time ago.

Static pierces through my ears, and for a second, I think it’s in my head, that all of this is a figment of my imaginary shadows.

But Naomi goes rigid, her chest grazing mine as she leans closer.

The voice I never wanted to hear again fills the room, “Time to resume our game, don’t you think, Hitori-san?”

“What do you want?” she snarls, but her voice is weak, weary.

I’m sure she hasn’t slept for some time now. Between taking care of me and banging on the walls, she’s always up to something.

The lack of food also contributes in altering the human mind. When the body doesn’t get its needs, the brain shuts down as well.

Whoever brought us here already planned to make us as weak and as desperate as possible.

Only then will they reveal what they want. Because they know we won’t have the chance to refuse whatever ludicrous demand they make.

“I assume you want a doctor to look at the quarterback’s wound?” Ren tsks. “It’d be a pity if he loses his arm altogether—or his life.”

“What the hell do you want?” she hisses.

“We’ll go with a dare again. I’ll get Quarterback a doctor. In return…” His voice drops and all humor disappears. “You’ll fuck me like you want it.”

A roar bubbles at the back of my throat and a loud growl spills out of my lips. “No.”

“Oh, you’re not unconscious yet.” Ren sounds bored. “This is a nice development. You get to watch.”

A low grunt spills out of me and my body jolts. Naomi places a shaky hand on my shoulder, steadying me, but when she speaks, her voice is trembling. “It’s okay.”

“Noooo,” I moan. “Don’t…”

“You’ll die, Sebastian.”

“I don’t fucking…care… No…”

“Baby…please… If it will help you, I can…” She sucks in a deep breath. “I can do it.”

“No…” I sound pained, enraged, and so fucking frustrated. I wish I could cut off my own damn arm instead of letting her go to that scum.

No one, no fucking one other than me will touch her, not even if I have to die for it.

“You have five seconds left.” Ren’s voice echoes from the speaker. “Four, three…”

“I’ll do it,” Naomi announces with a broken murmur.

“No…” I shake my head. “She…didn’t say that… No…”

“Come to the door, Hitori-san,” Ren says.

Naomi releases a shaky breath that bounces off my sweaty skin. She brushes her warm lips against mine. “You’ll be fine, Sebastian…”

As she starts to get up, I don’t know how I get the superhuman energy to grab her arm. She turns to me at the same time that the light goes on in the room.

I squint before I see her face for the first time in what seems like years, although it’s probably only been a few days.

Her lips are chapped and her cheeks have sunken. Her black hair that’s usually shiny seems dull and lifeless. Dry streaks of tears line her pale cheeks and her eyes are filled with fresh ones.

She looks so broken, so desolate, and I want to kick myself in the balls for not being able to get her out of this place.

“Oh, God,” she whispers as she studies me.

I probably look ten times worse than she does, but I don’t even glance at my wound. If I lose feeling in my arm, it would probably be a good thing under the circumstances. That way, I could have them cut it off and she won’t have to make any sacrifices for my sake.

“The door, Naomi.” Ren’s voice is like nails scratching at the interior of my fucking skull.

She gives me an apologetic look, lips drawing downward, and starts to stand again.

But I tighten my hold on her wrist. “Don’t…fucking…go…”

“I have to so I can save you.”

“Fucking…someone else…is no different…than killing…me, Nao…”

“I don’t care as long as you’re safe.” She mashes her lips to mine, and unlike her other kisses, this one isn’t light and careful. It’s not soothing either.

She goes all the way in, thrusting her tongue inside and kissing me like it’s the last time.

Her hand wraps around my nape and the other sinks in my hair as she gets lost in the kiss. Her tongue twirls with mine and her moans mix with my grunts.

Fuck the pain.

I grab her by the throat, my hold weak as I explore her mouth, kissing her with a desperation that matches hers.

But the spell soon breaks when she pulls away and whispers in my ear, “I’ll pretend it’s you.”

“No…” I moan, the physical and emotional hurt audible in my tone.

“I love you, Sebastian,” she murmurs so low, I can barely hear her.

A tear slides down her cheek and clings to her upper lip as she peels my hand off her and stands up.

The door opens and she heads to it without a glance back.