Cold Dark Souls : A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Cruel Black Hearts Book 2)

by Candace Wondrak

Edward was measured in saying, “You know what?”

  I caught the glance he exchanged with Lincoln, and I flew off the couch, whirling on them. “I know Killian’s the Angel Maker, and I think you two knew it, too.”

  Once the words were out, they felt…wrong, almost. I wanted to take them back. I wanted—well, what I wanted to do was go back to a time when everything was simple and easy, but then, that was just it. Nothing was ever easy in my life. Nothing was simple. I’d always known I was a freak, but it wasn’t until Edward and Lincoln found me that I had started to feel like I truly belonged somewhere, like I’d found my people.

  Were they all lies? Was nothing true?

  “Tell me the truth,” I said, practically seeing red. “Just tell me the truth!” My voice came out in a shout, which stunned both the men sitting and me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d actually screamed at someone. Maybe never.

  But then, I didn’t think I’d ever felt quite this upset before, either.

  Edward got to his feet, while Lincoln only frowned. “Stella,” Edward spoke, but whatever else he was about to say was cut off by a series of knocks at the front door. He and I only stared, but Lincoln got up, a growl coming from his chest like he was some kind of animal as he headed for the door.

  I took a step back as Edward moved between me and the front door. Lincoln’s shoulders tensed as he peered out at who it was before tossing us each an annoyed expression. “I’ll give you one guess as to who it is. Our best buddy.” He opened the door, scowling at the third man who strolled in, holding my messenger bag, his hands still wearing those damned leather gloves.

  Killian.

  Inside my chest, my heart skipped a beat even though I told it not to. I didn’t want my body to react to Killian the way it did Edward and Lincoln. I…I didn’t know what the hell I wanted, actually.

  “You left this in my car,” Killian spoke, his emerald eyes darting to Lincoln, then to Edward. “I figured you’d be here.” He didn’t sound too upset, but maybe that was because he was peering around Edward to look at me, his eyes falling to my legs.

  Right. Because I wore Lincoln’s shirt and nothing else. Well, at least it covered all my important bits, not like I was shy when it came to those things, apparently, but I didn’t know how I felt about all of this.

  This was happening too fast. Too much, way too fast.

  Lincoln had the front door closed and locked before he muttered, “I think we should all sit down and have a nice, long talk. You.” He pointed to Killian. “Sit there.” His finger moved to the chair in the corner. “You two,” he paused as he gestured to Edward and me, “on the couch.” Before Killian went to the chair, he snatched my bag from him. “I’ll take that, ginger.”

  Under his breath, Killian said, “I see you’re still resorting to that nickname. How wonderful.” With a frown, he made his way to the chair, sitting down while staring at me. All the while, Edward kept himself firmly in between us, but he said nothing, still staring at me.

  Those eyes. So vivid. So green.

  Edward and I backed up to the couch, and I tugged at the bottom of the shirt, feeling too naked for this conversation. I also didn’t know what to do under Killian’s watchful gaze. It was like I was the only one he saw in the room, as if Edward and Lincoln didn’t exist. It made me feel more special than it should’ve.

  Lincoln set my bag on the island near my phone before returning to my other side. I noticed how closely both he and Edward sat by me, their legs touching mine, as if marking me. Claiming me. There was a time when I would’ve appreciated it, but today, strangely, I didn’t.

  “So,” Lincoln growled out, sounding more like an animal than a man, “the truth is out.” He glanced at me, then at Killian. “I take it didn’t go too well, since she ran away from you and called Ed.”

  “I let her go,” Killian said. “I didn’t force her to do anything.”

  My hands balled up into fists on my lap. I really wished they’d stop talking about me like I wasn’t here. It made me feel small, insignificant. The opposite of how I wanted to feel around these men.

  “Tell me how you met,” I said, sounding confused.

  “Your boss broke into my house to kill me,” Edward spoke. “Probably because he wanted you all to himself.” Almost exactly what Lincoln had done to me, though he did it for Edward. “I fought back—”

  Killian leaned forward. “What I didn’t expect was that you found yourself not one but two men who know their way around an attempted murder, which only led me to think they’re not exactly normal. I doubt a sane person would want to sit down and have any sort of conversation with me once they know I’m the Angel Maker.”

  “Oh, but then he’s keeping out the best part,” Lincoln said, frowning deeply. It was an expression he often wore, so much there were new lines in his face when he made it. “He wanted you to choose, Stella. Us or him.”

  This was…some kind of stupid, testosterone-filled competition?

  “Should’ve killed him and gotten rid of him before,” Lincoln said, scowling. His comment earned him a glare from Killian, along with a middle finger. “Would’ve made this easier—”

  “Easier for who, you?” I asked. “Would you have ever told me, or would you have just let me carry on, oblivious to it all?” Something inside me hurt. My heart? Was I disappointed in the two men beside me for their choices? “Do you respect me at all? Don’t you think this should be my choice, not yours?”

  My words rendered both Edward and Lincoln speechless, while Killian chuckled and started to speak. But I turned my wrath on him, too.

  “And you,” I said, baring my teeth in an uncharacteristic display of aggression, “you’ve been lying to me this entire time, Killian. Waiting until you thought it was right to tell me the truth. You would’ve killed two men I care about—to make me yours? Would you have ever told me the truth? Would you have told me you killed them, or would you have kept it a secret, too?”

  Honestly, I was so fucking done with secrets.

  The look on Killian’s face told me enough. He would’ve hidden it from me, just like Edward and Lincoln would’ve.

  Did I mean nothing to them? Were my choices not valid? A thousand questions burned through me, and I felt my pulse racing. I got to my feet, gave them all a glare, and walked up the stairs. All three men got to their feet, like they were each going to follow me.

  I wasn’t in the mood for this.

  I stopped midway up the stairs, aware they could all see my ass from where they stood. “I swear to God,” I spoke through my teeth, “if someone tries to follow me, I will cut their penis off and feed it to them.” A threat I wasn’t even sure where the hell it came from, but it sounded badass. I threw a look over my shoulder, waiting for one of them to try to argue with me.

  None of them did. They were smart, for once. That, or they all cared about their precious penises too much to try me.

  Shaking my head, I finished racing up the stairs, shutting myself in the bathroom. I supposed I could’ve gone into either Edward’s or Lincoln’s room, but either one would’ve made me feel suffocated.

  How dare they try to control my life? I might not have been as well-rounded as a normal person, but I fucking deserved the right to make my own decisions, didn’t I? It wasn’t too much to ask. I wasn’t being hysterical. Everything I felt was real and valid and…

  Ugh. How could these men make me feel so many conflicting emotions? Not too long ago, I’d hardly ever felt a single emotion, let alone felt like I was drowning in them. These men had changed me, taught me how to feel. Was I any better for it? Was I a better human being today than I was a year ago? Most people would say no, given the small fact that Edward and Lincoln had let me kill a hooker in their basement.

  I was a murderer, surrounded by three killers who each wanted me. It wasn’t a problem most people had.

  Burying my face in my hands, I went to sit on the toilet. Hunched over, my back hurt, but I didn’t care. Now would’ve
been a good time for me to talk to Callie, see what she thought. Granted, I couldn’t tell her the whole truth, but she could at least give me some advice when it came to the three downstairs. I knew I needed Edward and Lincoln like the air I breathed, even if they were dicks who would have kept this from me.

  Killian? I wasn’t sure about him. I didn’t know what I needed from him yet…but I wanted to find out.

  I had a feeling what I had to do wouldn’t be easy, and the guys downstairs might not like it, but it had to be done. Past the alpha male posturing, there were things I needed to know, more truths I had to discover.

  I knew what I had to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Killian

  Stella’s ass was…perfect. Round, pale, without a single blemish. I probably shouldn’t have stared so much, but when she was up on the stairs and I was on the first floor, I couldn’t help it. I was a man, and she was mine, even if she didn’t know it. Soon enough I’d know what her entire body looked like, how soft her skin was. The day when I ran my hands all along her would be a day I would never forget.

  But I was getting ahead of myself, as I usually did when it came to Stella.

  When she was gone, locking herself away in whatever room upstairs, I slowly turned my gaze to the other two men. Lincoln and Edward. Edward still looked a little black and blue, as did I, but Lincoln was all brawn and all rage as he met my stare with a scowl.

  “You,” he said. “This is all your fault.”

  All of it was most certainly not my fault. Some of it, yes, I’d admit, was totally my fault. Other parts? No. Some of this was on them, too. The blame did not only lay with me. I crossed my arms, my fingers feelings restricted in my leather gloves. “You’re as much to blame as I am.”

  “Bull-fucking-shit,” Lincoln growled out, very much the tough and intimidating alpha male he was always pretending to be.

  Edward was quieter, although I could tell something weighed on him. I didn’t know him well, but he seemed like the kind of person who wore a mask almost as good as mine. He seemed normal, but I knew for a fact he was anything but. No one in this house was normal. “What did you show her?”

  “All I did was bring her to my basement, where I had John ready to go.”

  “Who the hell is John?” Lincoln asked.

  “Callie’s brother, it turns out. I’ve also seen him around the coffee shop Stella likes going to, so I know he’s been following her…probably because he can’t get ahold of his sister.” I let my words sink in, but neither man acted too surprised. “It’s not like I showed her Callie.” At that, both of them glared at me.

  Edward took a step toward me, the look in his eyes one of concern. Worry for Stella. “Do whatever you have to with John, but not Callie. I’m trying to get Stella back on her meds. Once she’s taking them routinely, we can go from there—”

  “Meds?” I cut in, eyebrows creasing. It was then I remembered the full pill bottle I’d discovered in her bathroom. In the bottom drawer, almost hidden. Untouched for a long while. With all the excitement involving John and finding Callie’s body, I’d completely forgotten about the pills.

  How the hell did I forget?

  My look must’ve said it all, for Edward whispered, “We’re not sure, but we think she has some kind of psychosis. Maybe schizophrenia. Something. She doesn’t talk about Callie like she’s alive because she’s pretending that she didn’t hurt her—she’s doing it because she doesn’t remember.”

  “She genuinely believes Callie is still alive,” I said, to which Edward nodded.

  My Stella…my Stella was more broken than I thought she was. She needed help I couldn’t give her, I realized. As I looked from Edward to Lincoln, the latter of which stood near the bottom of the stairs, watching in case she came out, I came to a startling conclusion—these two were helping her in ways I couldn’t. Maybe she needed them. For now.

  “It doesn’t matter what you do,” Lincoln spoke, dark eyes flicking to me only for a split second before returning to gaze up the steps. “With John gone, the family will want to investigate. You’ll bring the cops to her door, more than you already have.”

  John was back in my freezer for now, but that was neither here nor there. I had his phone. I could respond to the parents’ calls and texts. Surprisingly, there hadn’t been too many. It wasn’t like John was underage. He was twenty-two years old, old enough to go without talking to his parents for a few days, even weeks, judging by his call and text history. They could always decide to track the phone though—I should get rid of it soon. Better safe than sorry.

  “If you’re referring to what happened Saturday night, then you don’t have to worry. The police don’t think she’s a suspect. Look at her. There’s no way she could do the things I did. The only thing they might think is that she’s connected to me, which she is, whether you two agree or not,” I told them. “As for myself, they have no idea I’m the one they’re looking for.”

  Neither man was too convinced.

  Edward shook his head, his blonde hair swaying slightly with the movement. “And when the FBI comes to town? What then? They’ll be looking into her, too—and you have no idea what leads they might put together. No killer is perfect.”

  I only stared. Clearly, these two men didn’t know me well enough yet. “When the FBI comes, there won’t be any new bodies to investigate.” I would keep John in my freezer for as long as I had to, and Callie…I would figure something out for her. I couldn’t keep her decayed body on my table for much longer. Her body was already starting to fall apart.

  Yes, we had to come up with a plan for that…

  But these two were right. Stella had to get back on her medication. First thing was first.

  “And when there’s nothing new, they’ll leave,” I added. It might take them a little while, but they would leave. They wouldn’t linger here in this small town for longer than they had to. Some new serial killer would pop up in another state and they’d go packing. They always did. The government wasted money left and right, but not like that.

  “She could be in danger because of you,” Edward said, judging me, as if he had any right to do so. I wasn’t sure what the hell he got up to in his time off, but I knew he wasn’t the poster boy for a law-abiding citizen.

  I shot him a frown. “And she’s not in danger because of you?” I shot back. “Tell me you haven’t done anything that might draw the police’s attention to her. I’m sure they’d find her guilty of association if they ever so much as looked at you.”

  From his spot near the stairs, Lincoln said, “You have no idea where we come from, ginger. We’ve been killing since we were teenagers. It’s a family business.” Whatever he was hinting at, his family connections, meant nothing to me.

  “I’m not that far behind you then,” I said. “Although my parents don’t have much to say, seeing as they’re dead.”

  Lincoln was not having anything I said. “Why don’t you just get out of here? You’ve done enough already.”

  Even though the man was perhaps the strongest man I’d ever met, I would not back down. Not when it came to Stella. “I’m not leaving, unless Stella asks me to,” I said, well aware this was their house, so as far as the police were concerned, I was the intruder here.

  Hell, and even if Stella asked me to, I wouldn’t leave for long.

  I knew the two men wanted what they thought was best for Stella—but only in so far as it aligned with what they wanted, too. If Stella walked down those steps and said she wanted to be with me, would they leave her life without a fight? I wasn’t certain, and I wouldn’t put anything past these two. They were violent, just like me, and also just like me, they were obsessed with her. The expressions on their faces told me all I needed to know; they needed Stella as much as I did.

  An idea popped into my head. It was one I didn’t particularly like, but if Stella was amenable to it, I supposed I could live to deal with it—providing the other two men in the room didn’t try to kill me for just suggesting
it.

  “What if,” I started, treading as lightly as I could, “what if we came to an agreement?”

  Edward narrowed his eyes, the blueness in their depths darkening as he remembered the last time I was in this house trying to make an agreement. “Like your last suggestion? Do you see how well your last one worked out?” He pointed up the stairs, as if I’d forgotten Stella.

  That woman…no matter what I was doing, no matter where I was, I could never forget her.

  “This is partially my fault, I’ll admit,” I said.

  “I think you mean all your fault, ginger,” Lincoln sneered out.

  “What if,” I went on, ignoring Lincoln, “none of us tried to kill each other again? What if we all had Stella?” The words felt strange on my tongue, not to mention heavy in the air, because I never once before had thought about letting Stella be with anyone but me.

  Lincoln prickled, while Edward stared at me bizarrely. Neither man said anything.

  “If she’s agreeable to it,” I quickly added, not wanting either man to believe I would force Stella into doing something she didn’t want to do. I only wanted to open those lovely, mismatched eyes and help her see the truth.

  Edward was slow to say, “You want to share her?”

  Share was such a…gross word. Whatever he and Lincoln did in this house was none of my business. What they did with Stella—I wouldn’t think about it. “I was thinking more like alternating weekends,” I said. “Like a…custody arrangement.”

  My words fell on deaf ears.

  “Get over yourself,” Lincoln growled. “She doesn’t—” Whatever he was going to say next, whatever lies he was going to spout and proclaim Stella didn’t like me, halted as a door upstairs opened.

  All three of us exchanged glances. None of us had ever been in a situation quite like this before. I found myself watching as Edward and Lincoln huddled around the base of the stairs. I slowly moved near them, feeling…a strange sensation in my lower gut.

  Dread? Excitement? Anxiety? I couldn’t say, because I didn’t know whether or not I’d ever felt something similar. When I ended someone’s life, when I worked to clean up the crime scene, I never felt so…torn. Conflicted. Confused, almost. What I really wanted was for Stella to choose me above the others, but I was a bit of realist, too. I knew she cared for them; I could see it in her eyes as she looked at them. To take her away from them would be to pull her from a part of herself.