Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

I get up off the couch and head to her room. She has one minute before we have to leave. I considered sending her a text about her appointment, but I didn’t trust her to go. One of those “you want something done, you have to do it yourself” types of situations. So here I am, taking her to it, even if she kicks and screams.

I go to enter her bedroom, but the door is locked. I smile and shove my shoulder into it, splintering the wood. I could have used my pocketknife to unlock it, but I like the idea of it being broken better.

I look around to see it’s empty. I turn to open her bathroom door when it swings open. She jumps back in surprise. Her eyes instantly narrow up at mine. Her dark hair is dried and now up in a high ponytail, showing off her small face, pouty lips, and slender neck. It makes her blue eyes look bigger. I can tell she’s put a little bit of makeup on by the way her lashes are darker, and her lips are tinted a soft pink to match her cheeks. Her tits are hidden under a hoodie, and she’s got leggings on with tennis shoes.

“Let’s go,” I command, giving her my back and walking through her house.

“Did you break my door?” she barks, but I ignore her. She can see that’s exactly what I did.

Entering her garage, I grab her keys hanging up on the hook.

“What are you doing?” she demands.

“Driving you to your appointment,” I answer, opening her passenger door—always a gentleman.

I turn to look at her, and she pushes out her chest, face scrunched with irritation.

It’s cute, really. My eyes drop to her leggings, and the thought of her thong comes to mind. She’s got a perfect ass. One I just want to bend over my knee and take a belt to. It was red earlier from her shower. I want to see it red from my hand as well while she begs me to stop fucking it.

“Maybe I don’t want you driving my car.”

“I’m driving,” I state. This is not up for debate. “Either I drive you in your car or I put you on the back of my bike.”

She nibbles on her lip at my ultimatum for a second before she lets out a huff and storms over to me. She falls into the passenger seat, and I slam the door shut.

It’s a little on the colder side this afternoon, but the weather doesn’t bother me. I’ll ride all year round. I like the freedom a bike gives me, but I knew she’d choose her car.

Getting into the driver’s seat, I start it up and open the garage, knowing that she’s mad at me right now. But she’ll hate me when I drive her back home.

CHARLOTTENôvelDrama.Org owns this.

He pulls up to a six-story building with an all-glass front. A set of sliding glass doors reads entrance. It’s too large to be a house, but there’s no sign out front to say what it is or to give me a clue as to why we’re here.

He pulls my SUV to a stop, and a man opens my door. “Good afternoon, miss.” He smiles at me kindly, then looks over the top of the car and nods. “Haidyn.”

“Lance.” He acknowledges him, then walks around the back to me. He grabs my hand and pulls me up the six steps. I’m nervous as fuck. My knees are shaking. What could we possibly be doing here?

He didn’t say one word to me on the drive and never turned the radio on. We just sat in silence, and I know he did it on purpose. He wanted me inside of my own head. My mind raced with the what-ifs while I tried to calm my breathing.

Entering the building, I see a set of chairs to my right. He lets go of my hand, placing his hand on my lower back, and guides me to one. “Stay,” he commands like I’m a fucking dog.

All I’m missing is a collar and a muzzle. Then he disappears down a hallway.

The sliding glass door opens, and a woman enters. She plops down next to me, smiling as she speaks. “You here for David?”

I look over her fishnet stockings, six-inch heels, and red halter top. She reminds me of the woman in the video that the Lords sent me of Haidyn when he was picking up the prostitute. “No.”

She throws her hair over her shoulder. “How did you hear about this place?”

I frown, even more confused. It’s not like it’s hidden in the middle of nowhere. It’s beautiful and easily seen from the main road. “My boyfriend brought me,” I answer. Because explaining a Spade brother is blackmailing me won’t go over well with Haidyn when he finds out. Plus, I doubt she knows what a Lord is. I’d rather not have that conversation with her either.

Her smile widens. “That’s nice of him.”

I have to hold in a snort at that.

“What are you having done?” she asks.

“Excuse me?”

Her brown eyes drop to my chest. “Is he getting your tits done?”

Mine harden. “No.”

Then her eyes roam my face. “Your nose?”

What the fuck? “No,” I bark.

Jesus, where the hell did he bring me? Thoughts of someone knocking me out and giving me a new face has me terrified. I’ve seen those shows of people on the run before. A plastic surgeon great at his job, can make you look like a different person. And I know how easy it is for the Lords to give you a new identity. He could be planning to get rid of Annabelle and Charlotte altogether.

“Don’t be offended.” She rolls her eyes, sitting back in her chair. “Everyone could use a little help.”

I go to tell her to fuck off, but the sound of boots coming down the hallway has all my attention before Haidyn appears.

The girl next to me gasps. “Haidyn. Oh my God. What are you doing here?” she asks excitedly.

He moves to step in front of me, his eyes slowly going to her. I watch her run her hands down her thighs and lick her lips. All of a sudden, she’s in heat, and I want to vomit. Do I look that desperate when he’s around? Fuck, I hope not.

“Amber.” He nods once before looking at me. He grabs my hand, pulls me from the chair, and leads me down the hallway he appeared from.

“Wait?” she calls out, and I try to stop, but Haidyn continues to pull me away from the seating area. “Haidyn Reeves is your boyfriend?” she demands.

I look at her over my shoulder, and her once friendly look has changed to what I can only describe as pure fucking hatred. Her narrowed eyes go from mine to the back of Haidyn, and she crosses her arms over her chest. Scoffing, she shakes her head and storms out of the sliding glass doors, stomping her heels.

“I’m not into labels, but if you want me to brand my name on your ass, I’ll be glad to oblige.” Haidyn chuckles.

I roll my eyes, letting him pull me into a room. My breath catches when I see what’s in it. There’s a white table in the center with what look to be medical restraints strategically placed in various spots from one end to the other. A gush of cold air rushes over my face, and I shiver, stepping back. It reminds me of the gynecologist. It smells of disinfectant and the bright lights hurt my eyes. A set of cabinets run the full length of the right wall. There’s a sink and a box of gloves along with a biohazard trash can.

Haidyn walks over to the table, and my pulse races. “I’m not getting on that,” I say, my voice shaking as much as my knees.

He turns to face me.

I spin around, grab the door handle, and go to pull the door open, but his hand slaps against it above my head, slamming it shut. I’m yanked back by my hair, and I cry out when he shoves my back into the wall next to the door. He steps into me, one hand gripping my chin while the other holds an open pocketknife to my cheek.

I’m gasping for breath, trying to pull my face away, but he’s got me pinned in place. “Haidyn,” I whisper.

His blue eyes search mine as he speaks. “You either undress yourself or I cut every piece of clothing off you so when we leave this place, you leave with nothing on.”

My hands grip his T-shirt, my breathing erratic. Tears sting my eyes. “Please…”

“This is not a negotiation, doll face. I tell you what to do. You either do it or I do it for you. If you pick option two, then you’ll be punished afterward. Do you understand?”

The cool tip of the knife slowly glides against my cheek, and I swallow nervously. “Y-yes.”

Letting go of my chin, I keep my back to the wall, and he lowers the tip of the knife to the collar of my hoodie. His cold and unforgiving eyes focus on mine. “What’s it going to be, Charlotte? Are you going to be a good girl and get undressed, or will I have to cut your clothes off?”

My trembling hands grip the hem of the hoodie, and I pull it up and over my head, sniffling.

“That’s my good girl.” He closes the knife, putting it away and picks up the gown, holding it out to me. “Undress. All of it. I want you naked. It opens in the front. I’ll give you three minutes.” With that, he exits the room and closes the door as the first tear runs down my cheek.