Black Thorns: A Dark New Adult Romance (Thorns Duet Book 2)

I blacked out.

I must be slipping in and out of consciousness.

Blurred figures appear behind my lids, their gray silhouettes dancing in rhythm with my weak pulse.

Sounds follow. They’re hollow, distant, as if coming from an empty underground arena. The figures and the sounds are mixing together and drumming against my skull.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

I strain, but tight tentacles of pain keep me confined in place. I try again and a burning sensation shoots through my limbs. The drumming continues, getting louder and more intense, like a musical’s crescendo.

And then, right in the middle of the darkness, a shaft of light peeks through. It’s slow at first, dim, almost blending with the gray shadows until, all of a sudden, it bursts through, rushing toward me with no pause or deviation.

As if it knows exactly where I am.

As if I’m the only one it sees in the pitch-black.

As if it’s well aware I need to get out of the darkness.

A soft hand wraps around my face, warding off the invisible figures that were about to drag me under.

“Sebastian…please…please…”

Naomi.

In my fight against the darkness and its lure, I forgot that she was still here, alone, unprotected.

The thought of anyone touching her while I’m crippled provokes red-hot pain to flare over my skin.

Fucking fuck.

I stir, then groan when my shoulder explodes with fire. Holy shit, they never say in the movies that being shot means hanging on to life by a chapped, faulty straw.

“Sebastian? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah…baby.”

“Oh, thank God!” She sobs, fussing over me.

It’s still so dark that I can’t see my hands. But that’s not why I want the light. It’s the fact that I can’t watch her delicate features and get lost in the darkness of her penetrating gaze.

Not seeing Naomi is no different than living without the sun. I sound cheesy as fuck, even to myself, but I now recognize how much this girl means to me.

She is the meaning.

I lost that meaning somewhere between my parents’ deaths and my grandparents’ upbringing. I was an image to flaunt around, a makeshift mask of fake emotions.

Then Naomi barged in like a wrecking ball. She didn’t care about my outside image and saw straight through it. She didn’t want me because of what I am. She wanted me because of who I am.

The imperfect, flawed monster.

The beast who woke up in the hospital after he lost everything when he was six.

“You…said you’ll marry…me…” I croak, not recognizing my own voice. It’s hoarse, exhausted, and on the verge of collapsing.

“Yes…” she snorts between sniffles. “I can’t believe that’s the only thing you’re thinking about right now.”

So, it’s true.

She said yes to the most horrible proposal ever.

But even if the method was trash, it wasn’t impulsive or spur of the moment. I wasn’t proposing to her because we’re in danger and might never get out of this alive. I proposed because this woman right here is the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.

It’s not a hot-blooded moment where two young people make a decision that’s seemingly too old for them. It’s not about age for me, it’s about mentality. I know it for a fact, so what’s the point in delaying the inevitable?

Naomi tucks my jacket around my sides so that I’m fully covered. Her hands are cold. She must be freezing without her T-shirt, but she doesn’t stop fretting about me.

“You were out for so long. I think it’s been more than a day or two. It feels like fucking months.” She sniffles. “I got to the toilet and had to use the water to cool you down. I also made you drink some from the bottle. I think it helped bring your fever down, but you’re still too hot and I don’t think your wound is doing so well. I tried to see if there was a bullet inside, but I didn’t find anything and…and I didn’t want to hurt you more, so I stopped searching and…”

“Baby…” I attempt to raise my good hand so I can touch her, but my energy fails me and it falls to my side.

Naomi grabs it and places it on her wet cheek. “What is it? Are you in that much pain? What can I do to make it better?”

“Kiss me.”

Only a fraction of a second passes before I feel her soft lips against my dry ones. She’s gentle, careful, as if she’s afraid a kiss will kill me.

Maybe dying while kissing Naomi is the right way to go.

I growl deep in my chest as I attempt to deepen the kiss and taste her properly. But my mouth barely moves. I’m too weak that I can’t even kiss my girl the way she deserves.

A groan spills from me, filled with pent-up fucking frustration.

Naomi pulls back and grabs my face with both her small hands as if she can see my expression in the dark. “Did I hurt you?”

My hand drops from her face and I grunt a “No.”

There’s nothing I hate more than the helplessness. It’s fucking insane how the human body can become weak in a fraction of a second.

Right before I went to the forest, I was running over ten miles in an hour and lifting weights like nobody’s business, but now, I can’t even touch Naomi without help.

This situation could go on until I completely lose consciousness. And then I’ll die.

Tap water will keep Naomi alive for a few weeks before she’ll follow. That is, if it doesn’t give her some sort of infection beforehand.

The only other time I’ve felt so helpless was after my parents’ accident. But I was young back then. It’s not the same situation.

“Sebastian? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, baby…”

“Please stay with me…”

“Don’t…be…scared…”

“How can I not be? I think they’re trying to break me and you’re paying the price just because you know me. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you. I’ll just follow you to wherever you go.”

Don’t.

I want to say that, but even my tongue is heavy and unable to move.

The constant assault of pain from my wound and the pounding in my head don’t help in my attempts to stay conscious.

Even Naomi’s voice has turned into a low hum.

That’s when I know I’ll pass out again.

When her voice is clear and she’s calling my name, it means I’m back.

I keep slipping in and out of consciousness, and after a while, I think I’m going fucking insane.

The only thing that’s keeping me anchored is Naomi and her soft touches and soothing words.

It’s the brush of her lips against mine as she makes me drink water. It’s the feel of her body snuggled into me.

It’s even the low, haunting sound of her weeping when she thinks I’m unconscious.

She doesn’t cry when I’m lucid enough to speak a word or two of gibberish. She puts up a strong façade and tends to me, holding on to hope I don’t think I have anymore. But when she believes I’m out, she releases her hopeless side, too. She cries silently or sometimes loudly.

Then she bangs on the door and asks them to let us go. She says words in Japanese that I would normally understand, but I don’t have full access to my brain and, therefore, can only hear the fear and determination in her tone.

The fight.

Maybe she’s not as hopeless as I am, after all.

Because, at this point, I do believe they brought us here to kill us.

Or to kill one of us.

My grandparents couldn’t be involved in this. No matter how much they want to teach me a lesson, they wouldn’t put my life in jeopardy.

Does that mean I’ve been kidnapped? Did they request a ransom?

If they had, my grandparents would’ve paid it already. This isn’t a normal case of kidnapping. If it were, there wouldn’t be games of survival.

A hand softly touches my cheek as a cool cloth is placed on my forehead.

“I’ll get us out of here, Sebastian. I promise. So please…please hang in there.”

So many words form at the back of my throat, but the only thing that comes out is a pained moan.

Naomi strokes my cheek as if she knows exactly what I’m trying to say.

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.

When it closes behind her, I release a roar that reverberates through the silent room.

The image of her with another man cuts me open like a thousand knives. I can’t stop picturing his hands on her, touching her, worshipping her body. I’m the only one who’s supposed to do that.

The only one who gets to see her. Both physically and emotionally.

Only me.

But what kills me further is the fact that she’s doing this for me.

She’s letting someone else fuck her so she can save me.

For the first time since my parents’ deaths, bitter moisture gathers in the corners of my eyes.

Fuck!

I attempt to sit up. In my mind, I’m running after Naomi and killing every fucker who looks in her direction. In my mind, I’m spilling their blood and kissing her in the midst of it.

I barely move and I’m reared back to the ground as a burn explodes in my shoulder and my lungs suffocate.

Black dots condense in my vision and I gladly surrender to them.

I might as well fucking die now.

Because there’s no way in hell I’ll ever forgive myself for putting Naomi in this position.