by Jarica James
As soon as the elevator doors closed us in, I was hyper-aware of them, peeking from under my lashes to take in the clenched fists and tense stances.
Would they realize how fucked up I was?
Will they still think I’m strong enough to stand by their side?
“Kitchen,” Kyrell ordered as we walked in, leading me toward the counter and turning to face me. Dropping my hand, he picked me up and set me on the granite countertops. I blinked down at him, my fight gone, letting him take care of me as he wished.
“Wha—” Killian started, his voice angry and hard, but Ky turned and muttered something that had him trailing off and taking a seat at the table with a huff. Keir followed after him, the two of them locking on me so pointedly that I felt the weight of their expectation and curiosity.
Ky moved through the kitchen, gathering, chopping, and sautéing things as he hummed to himself, the smell of fajitas quickly filling the air. My stomach let out a loud growl, and he grinned up at me, the smile genuine and adorable, and my heart melted. The guys were so many contrasting things it shouldn’t have made sense: bloody, sweet, sadistic, sexy, adorable. I’m in way over my head.
“Princess?” Keir started when I sat in silence for too long, almost sounding worried. Slowly, he approached, but this time I actually met his eyes, finding nothing but concern and possibly even the tiniest hint of fear.
“I’m okay,” I promised, the crack in my voice making me wince. “Sorry for freaking out.”
“We can talk about that later, okay?” he urged, sliding his hand along my jaw to cup the side of my face as he kissed me more gently than he ever had. When he pulled back, he studied me, shaking his head when I didn’t respond. “But I’d love it if you gave us something. Tell us even a tiny bit of what’s behind all this?”
Knowing that it wouldn’t do me any good to wait, I nodded. There was no way around it. I had to let them in on some of the shit I’d dealt with up to this point.
Keir picked me up from the counter and took me over to a stool, setting me down then settling in next to me, his hand staying on my thigh. The weight of it was warm and comforting, anchoring me to this moment with them.
After Ky had plates in front of us and I was sitting at the breakfast bar with them, I finally started talking.
“With everything going on lately, I’ve been thinking about Eros more and more. The attacks are increasing. When Keir wouldn’t put me down, it reminded me of a different time, one of Eros’ many tests. Being caught, forcibly carried out…” I trailed off, leaving the obvious unsaid.
“I’d say we’d try not to manhandle you, but that’s not our style,” Killian joked, trying to lift the mood.
“I’m not saying I want you to change. I’m just saying that I’m not the same as I was back in high school. Even back then, I had baggage, but now, there’s even more, and it’s hard to keep my head above it,” I countered.
“Alright, go on, Kitten,” Ky urged, his tone seemingly indifferent, but I knew better than that.
“My grandfather started what he called training me when I was fairly young. When I was seven… well, I told you that story, but it didn’t stop there. He gave my cousins and me new challenges all the time, but mine were always a bit more difficult than theirs. Mom intervened for a bit, but she died just before that first kill. After that, all bets were off. Any time I’d try to escape, my next test would be that much worse. From attempted rapes, to beatings, stalking, kidnapping, and torture, nothing was off-limits. My entire life he’s been getting me ready to take over for him one day, or at least that’s what he says. I’m more likely to call bullshit on that; it feels more like he just wanted to break me.”
“But he never succeeded,” Kyrell said gently. It wasn’t care for me that softened his words, it was his gritted teeth and clenched fists. The guys were livid, their anger palpable, and they were doing a miraculous job of reining it in, likely so they wouldn’t set me off into another attack after I’d finally calmed down.
“You know… I tried to contact you once,” I admitted, the audible gasp from one of them nearly making me look up, but I couldn’t. “I got a burner phone and tried to call, but he had his men watching me. When he found out, he shattered it in front of me, then reminded me that the Family was all I needed. He beat that lesson into me, himself.” My voice cracked before I could stop it, the frustration at that memory bubbling to the surface. I’d never felt so vulnerable, so helpless, so alone.
“Jesus… Baby Girl, why didn’t you tell me when I threw that at you?” Killian asked, his voice pained.
“Because I didn’t intend to see you again,” I countered. “What would it have changed? I’d rather you hated me than hurt you again if I had to go back.”
“We never hated you. We were angry, but hate is the furthest from anything we’ve ever felt for you,” Ky said softly, the sentiment making me feel slightly better.
But that’s why I don’t submit as well anymore. He’s changed me into this emotionless person. It took two years in this city to relearn how to be a semi-normal, mostly functioning person. It’s hard for me to give up control because I’m afraid it’ll be used against me.”
“We would never,” Killian said. “We want you to submit to us sexually… okay, and a bit more cooperation wouldn’t hurt, but outside of wanting you safe, we’d never use that control to hurt you. Not like he did.”
“And part of me knows that,” I promised. “Frankly, I’m just a brat at heart now, so I’ll challenge you and fight you every time you try and make decisions for me. But in the end, I want you to make me submit, to free my mind. It gives me this moment where I don’t have to be anything or anyone but sensation. I don’t have to think or be strong; I can truly let go.” It was hard to admit, hell… it was hard to explain, but they seemed to understand. “I crave it, but I was never comfortable enough with anyone else. After my family took me out of school, it only got worse for me, and I couldn’t let anyone have that control over me. Eros knew and controlled everything in my life, and I couldn’t risk it. He would read my messages; our phones were connected to his computer. The tech guy he has is phenomenal, and privacy became some sort of dream that I vaguely remembered but had totally lost.”
“They never should have taken you from us. If we’d known, we would have followed you. Fuck… I’ll eradicate the entire Family,” Keir said firmly, but I grabbed his hand to stop him.
“No, he’s given me time. I mean, he keeps sending assassins after me, but for the most part I have freedom for now, so can we hold off on that plan?” I begged, the desperation in my voice making him pause.
“For now?” Ky questioned, of course zeroing in on my slip up.
“For now,” I said firmly, glaring at him. I’d had enough vulnerability for one fuckin’ night and needed a little time to reclaim my balance.
“Fine, for now,” he conceded, throwing my words back at me, but I knew he wouldn’t forget. Honestly, I hoped I could be strong when the time came for me to make my choice to go back home or die. Mainly, I hoped to find the strength to take out Eros myself. End him for all he had done to us, to me.
And I wish they could be there to witness it.
Killian
“What’s the plan, then?” Sana challenged, crossing her arms. “Never let me live my life or go to work? Because that’s a big fucking no.” We’d been at it for hours, discussing how to keep her stubborn ass safe, but she wasn’t having it. Tensions were high, and we were all a bit fed up with the argument.
“Of course not. We just want you to be safe, and it can’t always be us with you,” Keir shot back, his anger rising again too. She had a way of pushing our buttons until we were about to lose our mind.
“Why won’t you just fucking let us take care of you?” I yelled, done with her constant fighting. She’d just dropped a fairly big bomb on us. We weren’t stupid, so we’d known her life hadn’t been happy and cheerful, but we hadn’t expected the level of mental abuse, manipulation,
and torture she’d experienced. Fuck, we wouldn’t even let our victims suffer that long, let alone Family.
“Because I’m not your fucking damsel in distress. I’m a grown ass woman who was her own knight in shining armor for eleven fucking years, Killian!” she screamed, picking up her glass and chucking it into the wall, her chest rising and falling quickly as she panted through her anger.
“And whose fault is that?” I shot back, internally smacking myself for the stupid comment the second it left my mouth.
“My fucking sadistic grandfather, you neanderthal!” she yelled, grabbing my glass and downing the honey-colored liquid. We’d officially pushed her to the drinking stage, which was a lot louder and a lot less fun than the violent stage.
My phone rang then, and I held up a finger as I answered, her growl of frustration nearly feral when I shushed her.
“Killian,” I answered, waiting for my guy on the other end to give an update.
“Boss, we’ve just had another shootout. Weapons this time, not drugs,” he barked out, sounding out of breath.
“We’re heading to Joe now,” I confirmed. “Any casualties?”
“Only on their end, it was sloppy,” he said with a raspy laugh that ended in a cough.
“Good work,” I finished, ending the call and turning to Keir. “My men had a run in. We need to go to Joe.”
“Alright, Princess, we have a meeting we can’t miss, and you can’t come with us so soon after having one of these fucking attacks. You’re safer here, and it’s so soon that we don’t know if something could send you right back into that bad place,” he said, the warning clear, but she looked even more defiant at that.
“Then I’ll call an Uber and go the fuck home,” she said, and I just choked out a dark laugh.
“We can’t let that happen,” Ky said, sounding genuinely sorry. “It’s too dangerous now. You’re our biggest weakness, and we can’t risk someone tracking you from here and hurting you.”
“I’m not a fucking weakness,” she growled, taking it the wrong way. Of fucking course.
“No,” I explained, “you’re ours, meaning they could use you to make us compliant.”
“This is ridiculous,” she growled. “I’m not hiding away… I won’t!”
Our phones started chiming, more updates rolling in, and we were still arguing. We have too much going on to make time for this. With a nod from Keir, I sighed, moved forward, and yanked her to me before she could make it to her phone and keys sitting on the kitchen table.
“I’m so fucking sorry. Just know it’s for your own good. You’re safer here, and until we check on this, we can’t risk you. We won’t.” With that, I pulled her with me, down the stairs, eventually picking her up. By the time I entered the code to the main door, Carlo was jumping up from his desk. “Carlo, unlock that door for me, will you?”
“Of course, Boss,” he said, sounding amused for possibly the first time ever. He moved quickly, unlocking the door then dodging out of the way as I tossed her as gently as I could into the interrogation room and closed the door behind her. Once it closed, I locked it. She was immediately at the window, screaming her head off, but the soundproofing was in perfect condition. I’m never going to hear the end of this.
“Sorry, Baby Girl,” I mouthed before turning and walking away. Keir and Killian were waiting, elevator open as I approached, looking half-amused, half-pissed.
“We had no choice.” Kyrell’s reassurance fell on deaf ears. I hated myself for having to do that, especially with her last PTSD attack being so recent.
“I bet five bucks she’s gone when we get back and that room will be pure chaos,” Ky chuckled, hitting the first floor button.
“She’s going to be even angrier by the time we get back. How is she supposed to trust us if we treat her like her grandfather did?” I asked quietly as the elevator doors shut, closing us in with the weight of his question hanging over us.
“Locking her in for her safety and putting a group of horny, nasty old men in there to rape her are a bit fucking different, brother,” Keir spat out, the memories of her explanation going through my head again until I shoved them away.
We were silent as we drove downtown to a Family bar, which also happened to be where Joseph, our intel specialist, preferred to work. The back room had been converted into his surveillance base. Screens lined two walls, and huge cooling fans kept the room from being an oven. A conference table sat in the middle, large enough to host at least my brothers and me along with a few spare seats. He’d equipped the room with a projector so he could show us what he was explaining, which was much easier than us crowding around his computer during our usual meetings. Recently, he’d been following the Lachs’ movements, and after the hand and the information we’d gotten, I was eager to hear his update.
“Hey, bosses! Can I get ya the usual?” Greg called out as we walked into the building. He was Joe’s brother and his opposite in every way. From the boisterous voice and loud clothes to the outgoing career choice and personality.
“A whole fuckin’ bottle today, Greg,” Keir yelled over the noise, heading for the back room. As per usual, Greg wouldn’t be far behind us with the drinks.
“Welcome,” was all Joe said as we walked in and took our usual seats. He was typing away at his computer, periodically shoving his unruly black curls from his face. His general appearance was disheveled like he’d worked all night, and he probably had. He was the type to get a bit obsessive when he had a task, so we always knew we could count on him. The three of us waited in tense silence, lingering feelings from our conversation with Sana piled on top of our anticipation of hearing what he’d found. I wouldn’t allow most people to ignore me, but Joe wasn’t exactly the most socially adept, so we made an exception. Plus, no one could run intel like him. With his talent, some social awkwardness could easily be forgiven.
When he finally turned around, Greg was bringing in the whiskey and glasses, setting them down then ducking out. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the things we dealt with, so he stayed on the legal end of things, running the bar and providing drinks when we needed them.
“Alright, so the Lachs tried and failed to get the weapons shipment. They’ve been popping in and out of the scene, it seems. And the attack on Sana’s shop? We found footage of two of them approaching the shop, but I couldn’t identify faces since they wore masks. However, we’ve monitored just about every in and out of anyone associated with them, and all is quiet. Something is brewing… This isn’t their usual behavior, and I doubt they’ve just backed off for no reason,” he concluded.
“And what of the shooters?” Keir asked pointedly. Joe looked away from us, nervously scratching at the back of his head.
“No eyes on my end, Boss. They’re fuckin’ ghosts,” he said quickly. “They somehow missed every surveillance camera in the city to get to them. Stuck to alleys, mostly, and blended into normal crowds when not attacking.”
“So we equip the shop with tech. Get your guys on it,” Kyrell said, handing a glass over and filling it before drinking it down like water.
“Done,” he promised, sliding over to his computer and tapping away for several minutes. When he moved back, it was with a folder. He swallowed hard and slid it our way. “The results from the hand, including word from the Therons and the gas station he was last spotted at all confirm what we were expecting.” His voice shook at the end, and pain flashed in his eyes. My heart broke for the guy. Jason and Seth were... well, had been his friends. The three of them had been almost like brothers. When we’d first determined that they were the likeliest suspects for the Lachs’ hostage, that had been a punch to the gut. Now that we had one confirmed dead and the other missing, that punch was nearly sickening.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Keir said solemnly. Joe bit his lip and blinked hard before nodding. “Any news on Seth?”
“None,” he sighed, turning and grabbing another, much thinner folder. “He was last seen leaving a cafe across tow
n, then nothing. There was a blind spot on the cameras, even the ones we hacked.”
“We’ll find him,” Ky promised, the dead or alive going unsaid.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, going silent as Keir slid pictures our way. There was a close-up of the hand and notes written on the back. Jason’s mother had confirmed it as his, thanks to a scar he’d gotten as a kid. The fact that a hand was all we had for her to bury filled me with rage. I hated feeling useless, and Joe’s lack of results, though not from lack of trying, were giving me no idea of where to go next. Fuck, this is getting ridiculous.
“Any word on Anastasia and her detail?” I asked, something we’d set up when the Lachs started acting up again.
“She’s safe and accounted for,” he confirmed, pulling up a report for us to see.
“Good. Keep tracking the Lachs’ movement in the city; they’re escalating for a reason, and I want to know what that reason is. Something new is motivating them,” I explained. There was just something that wasn’t quite adding up all of the way.
“We have to take this fight to the Lachs before this gets worse. I want estate coordinates and all the names and pictures you can get, a full dossier,” Keir ordered as he stood, taking the bottle with him when he turned to leave.
“Thanks, Joe,” I offered, sliding the pictures back to him before following my brothers out. For the first time since we’d taken over the Family, I felt defeated.
I’ll make the Lachs pay for what they’ve taken from us, but first, I have to make sure Sana hasn’t hurt herself in that room.
“You son of a fucking bitch, let me out of this room before I castrate you and feed it to your brothers!” I screamed, the sound deafening in the otherwise silent room. On the other side, Kill mouthed some bullshit about being sorry before walking away. The second his back was to me, I lost it, going to their wall of perfectly clean and organized instruments and flinging them on the floor one by one. “Fuck you. Fuck these. Fuck your stupid fucking dominance!”