Captivated by Cutter (Twist Brothers Book 1)

by Bex Dane

  ***

  Three months ago, I hid in the bushes of this mansion in Beverly Hills. Tonight I'm a fake invited guest, mingling with the vapid despots of a life I escaped by luck of the draw.

  Prominent industry personalities mill around with lethargic pop music playing the background. It's not cool in any way, yet they all look extremely proud to be here.

  If kissing Arthur's ass over the phone was torture, seeing him in person for the first time in ten years is going to be hell. My skin itches with the legs of a million spiders crawling over it. God. I hate this. It hasn't been this bad since the night I met Cass at the bar.

  I was riding the edge, ready to go off on anyone who came near. I can't believe I pulled a blade on her. What the fuck is wrong with me? She wasn't gonna hurt me. It's instinct for me. When I'm caged, I strike. I didn't mean to scare her. I've stopped myself a thousand times from going to her place and apologizing again.

  I didn't trust myself to bring a knife tonight, so my hand fishes in my pocket and comes up with nothing but a key to my rented car.

  If I jam this key hard enough into my leg, it might draw blood.

  No. Not ruining my suit.

  Remember what Mila told you. Play it cool. Fake it till you make it. This shit is in my blood. I can fake it for the night.

  I need to remember my plan. Talk to the girls to ask what they know and get close to Arthur and find out what his motives are.

  Standing here fuming in the corner is not getting me any closer to my goal. Deep breath, suck it up, buttercup.

  Trying to keep my gait casual, I wander into the room of Hollywood producers, agents, actors, and models.

  No one notices me or talks to me. I need them to know who I am, so they can see the benefit in talking to me.

  A group of girls has gathered outside by the pool. Something about them is approachable. They're less comfortable, younger, looking more awkward. A safe place to try out my identity.

  "Hello, ladies. Having a good time?"

  My approach completely stops their chit chat and they stare up at me. "My name's Neil Ainsman."

  That worked. They all smile and look at each other. Excellent. Name recognition. "Are any of you models?"

  "I am," a tall brunette says.

  "Me too." A blonde gives me a smile.

  "And me," a shorter red-head says. The other two girls are pretty, but the redhead is different.

  Her lips are a bright scarlett against pale skin. She has stark eyebrows and eyeliner like a cat. The other girls have normal makeup, but hers is theatrical and brave. Kinda hot.

  A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I nearly turn and slam whoever it is against the wall. But this is a party. Safe. Act normal.

  It's Arthur. "Neil Ainsman. What do ya know? Been looking forward to meeting you."

  I turn and my stomach churns as I shake his hand harder than a normal person would. Good to hear he's never met Neil before.

  He tugs me away from the girls and tilts his head. "You finding some good prospects tonight?"

  I'm hanging on a pin head here trying not to turn this party into a slasher film, and he's prodding me. It's an epic struggle to hide the visceral reaction exploding inside me. "Yeah, man. You got some beautiful girls."

  I check his eyes to see if he recognizes me, but there's nothing there. I'm not the scrawny little boy I used to be.

  "Best in the world." He smiles and sways back, proud of himself. He chats for another ten minutes about his businesses. He offers to help fund my cologne project for a percentage of the profits. Asshole. "You want some time alone with a model, just let me know. We have private viewing rooms in the back so you can see the goods."

  Gross. "All right. Thank you."

  He walks away and I have to leave for the bathroom. Gripping the sink, I glare at my own image in the mirror, hating who I'm pretending to be.

  No time for that shit.

  I need to stick to the plan. Ask the girls about the missing women and earn his trust so I can nail him on the missing women.

  ***

  Out of the girls I met tonight, only one made an impression on me. The redhead. She seemed smaller, younger, more vulnerable than the others. If I were a predator, she'd be the kind of lost lamb I'd be drawn to.

  With a plan in sight, the hives itching my skin calm down to a point I can move forward. I leave the bathroom and go searching for her. I find her in the foyer talking to an old man. She's smiling at him and turning her body toward him. It's gross and all wrong. She wouldn't be talking to him unless he could get her a job.

  I don't like seeing her with him. She's beauty and innocence and youth and he's an old slimy Hollywood type.

  I can't really go up to her and steal her from that guy. Arthur said to let him know if I wanted anyone. I'm going to find out what that means. I walk over to Arthur and wait for his conversation to lull before he turns his attention to me.

  "What can I help you with, Neil?"

  "The redhead over there. I like her."

  "She's got a tight little body. You want me to get you some alone time with her, so you can see if she's right for your campaign?"

  "Yes. I'd like that." I feel like I just painted a target on her back but really she was already wearing one the way she looked so wide-eyed and trusting. She set herself up.

  He bows to excuse himself, but doesn't approach her directly. Instead he walks over to another woman, who then looks at the girl, and nods. Arthur walks back over to me and says, "Giselle will set her up in a room for you."

  Instead of grimacing at my disgust in his easy role as pimp, I give him a smile that I hope looks conspiratorial and horny. "Thanks, Arthur." Arthur the molester. Fucking asswipe jacktard who I want to kill. "Thanks a lot."

  Giselle brings her a glass of champagne and throws me a wink as she walks the redhead out of the party. Jesus, he's got women helping him?

  I'd rather stick needles in my eye than follow Giselle, but I've come this far and this is my chance, so I make my way to the hallway and enter the room Giselle came out of.

  Chapter 4 Escape Hatch

  The redhead is sitting on the bed waiting for me when I walk in.

  Her long legs are crossed at the knee, and she's bobbing one shiny boot with a thick triangle wedge heel. Straight bangs hang in her eyes like a red curtain. She looks up at me with big vulnerable eyes traced with smokey black makeup and insanely long lashes. "Hi there." When she smiles, there's some lipstick stuck to her teeth, and I hold back my laugh.

  This whole situation is surreal and bizarre and so different from anything I want to have in my life.

  Her boobs are propped up by black leather top and she's wearing gigantic ceramic white hoop earrings with a mess of pearls around her neck. She's definitely rocking some kind of Elvira vibe tonight. Not many girls could pull it off, but it works for her. She's gorgeous and I'm an asshole for wanting to fuck her until her carefully crafted look is smeared and disheveled.

  "Hey."

  "Hi." Her face is all eyes and lips. Mostly white skin except a hint of bronze under her cheekbones. She's holding her glass up close by her face.

  "I'm Neil."

  "Ainsman, right? Neil Ainsman."

  Of course. The most important part. My last name. The reason we're both here. It's all about what I can do for her and what she can do for me. There's not even any pretense of caring about getting to know someone in Hollywood. It's just the culture. I fucking hate Hollywood. "Right."

  When I walk over to the bed and sit next to her, my eyes don't know where to focus. There's so much to look at. She's like Red Riding Hood meets Pulp Fiction. Her red hair is cinched in a genie-like ponytail with her long locks falling on each side over her ears.

  She's checking me out too as she scans my suit. "Have we met before?"

  "No." Considering tonight is my first night as Neil Ainsman, that would be impossible.

  "I probably just recognize you. I thought you were a recluse on an island somewhere."


  She's gonna blow my cover the first night. I'm about the same height as Neil Ainsman, and I've done what I can with hair and contacts. Truth is I don't really look like the guy and if she looks it up she'd know.

  "Uh, that was just a vacation."

  "Mmm." She smiles and wraps one hand around her knee as she takes a sip of champagne. "I'd love to live on an island, just to be one with nature."

  Well shit. I didn't think of diving into Neil's spiritual state after leaving the island.

  "Did you feel connected to the universe?" she asks.

  This girl is a trip. She's dressed like a vampire, playing the role of a desperate starlet, and now she's asking me deeply personal questions.

  "Um, sure. Yeah, sometimes."

  "What was your favorite part?"

  And hard questions. I don't know about an island, but I'd guess hanging out in the California redwoods is similar enough to make up an answer. "It's a relief. After growing up in the city. You get out there and everything you thought was important isn't anymore. As long as the rain waters the trees, it's all good."

  Did I just say that? What the fuck? I never talk like that.

  "I hear you. Love it. God, I need that right now. I've been so stressed out." She presses her palm to her forehead and her bright red bangs bend in the middle then snap back into shape like they aren't real.

  "You should come with me next time I go. A little escape." Oh shit. Now I'm inviting her to an island I've never been to. What is it about her that makes me want to open up and invite her in? "Tell me your name."

  "Cass," she says with another imperfect smile.

  Cass? Wow. I've met two women in the last few months, both named Cass. Is it a sign? The other Cass wanted me to fuck her with a knife at her throat. I should've just done it and got her out of my system. Now I've created this problem of wondering how insanely hot it would've been to fuck her on my bike while she was scared shitless. This girl's breasts are about the same size. I wonder if she'd let me fuck her with a knife at her throat. My dick stirs and I tamp that shit down.

  I'm so wrong in the head. What kinda guy gets off on knife play? Only a twisted demented fuck like me. I'm not here to get my dick wet. I'm here to find out what's happening to these models.

  "How long have you been modeling?"

  "Not very long. I just started."

  "Have you done any work for Arthur yet?"

  "Not yet. He helped me put together a portfolio." She squeezes the champagne stem between her knees and pulls up her phone. "I'll show you."

  As she's scrolling, she says, "Actually, I'm a makeup artist. I'm just trying to make some contacts here."

  Holy shit. "A makeup artist?"

  "Yes, why? Do you need someone?"

  It couldn't be the same Cass. Could it? "No." My voice comes out much too terse.

  "Oh." She sounds disappointed.

  One way to find out. "I need some print models."

  "I can do print."

  "I bet you can, and you'd be good at it but I have one rule."

  "What's that?"

  "No body art."

  "Oh shoot."

  "You have a tattoo?"

  She takes another sip of champagne. "I have a few." Her eyelids close and she smiles like she's dreaming of a new tattoo.

  "Let me see," I say in a flirtatious tone.

  She stumbles as she stands up. I grab her drink before it spills on the carpet. "Whoopsie." She giggles.

  She lifts up the front of her top and shows me the one on her sternum I'd seen that night. A red Pennywise balloon. Yep. This Cass and that Cass are exactly the same. What the fuck is she doing here? I have to force my jaw to relax. This is not a safe place for her to be.

  "I feel so dizzy, but I have one on my back too." Her knees bend and she arches her neck as she tries to look over her shoulder. She spins around like a dog chasing its tail. "Oh shit."

  "You all right?"

  Her hands come out like she's walking the plank. "Is this a trick floor?"

  "What?"

  "This floor has a hatch where you hide and pop out and it's wavy." She bends down and runs her hands over the carpet.

  I'm up and reaching for her as I set the drink on the floor, but I'm still not sure if I should touch her.

  "I can't find the escape hatch," she mumbles as her head slowly lowers to the floor. "Just gonna look right here."

  Oh man. Her eyes close and her mouth opens with her cheek flat on the carpet. Her ass is in the air and her feet are splayed out. She looks like a swan who was just shot down from the air.

  I carefully help her to her stomach and turn her to her back. She's completely out. She passed out right here in front of me.

  What happened to her? She was fine. She took a sip and went down hard. My throat closes, and I can barely think. She was fine! She just collapsed like someone took her batteries out.

  This is not good. I never should've come here.

  She wasn't supposed to be here. This was not in the plan. She's in so much danger. Screw Morganstein. I'll nail him another time. I don't know when I'll get another chance at him, but I have to get her out of here. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her down the stairs. I'm able to slip out a back door unnoticed. I get her into the passenger seat of my car, but she's a rag doll. I buckle her in. "Hang in there, babe."

  I take off for the freeway and call my mom. Right now I need her guidance.

  "What's up, Cutter?" I'm headed north even though her place is south. I'm not sure why. I just need to be moving toward home.

  "This girl. She passed out. Is she going to die?" My mom studied medicine to become a physical therapist. She knows all kinds of random stuff that comes in handy with a wild bunch of kids in the mountains.

  "Wait. Tell me what's going on."

  "I was at the party in Beverly Hills. She was there. I know her. She's passed out."

  "Is she breathing?"

  I can see her chest moving. Air brushes my hand when I hold it in front of her nose.

  "Yes. It's like she's sleeping."

  "What happened?"

  "She drank some champagne. Then she got incoherent and fell asleep on the floor." The lack of control is locking me up. I want to scream and make it stop. She could die.

  "Is it an overdose?"

  "I don't know. She had the one glass. I'm freaked."

  "Try to calm down. You think someone slipped something in her drink?"

  "I don't know what the fuck is happening. Just tell me what to do! Do I take her to the hospital?"

  "You could, but you could also just wait and see if she wakes up. If she's breathing okay. Feel her heartbeat."

  "Feels normal." Mine on the other hand is erratic and thumping.

  "Take her to her place and stay with her till she wakes up. If she has any kind of seizure, take her to the hospital. If she vomits, make sure to clear it from her throat."

  "Vomit? I can't do vomit."

  "You can do it, Cutter. Calm down. Did anyone hurt her?"

  "No. No. She was with me."

  "Do you know where she lives?"

  "Yes, but… I'm already heading north." The thought of turning around and heading to her place in The Palms doesn't sit right. She should be far from the filth and grime of this city.

  This overpowering need to protect her is guiding me right now. It's not just her apartment. I want to get her away from Morganstein. The kind of man who cut me and hurt my sister wouldn't hesitate to ruin her life. She'd be defenseless against him. I never want her to be sitting alone on a bed getting drugged again.

  Of all people. He picks her? No way.

  I have to make this decision for her. The girl is self-destructive. It's irrational, but I want her to be with me. "I'm bringing her up the mountain."

  "You are?"

  "I want to make sure she's safe."

  She hesitates before she responds. "She'll probably be fine at her own place. Then you can leave."

  "I'm not leaving her.
All right?"

  "Okay?" My mom is totally baffled by my outburst. So am I.

  "I'm bringing her up the mountain." It feels right to say it. She'll be safe there. "I want you to look at her. Make sure she's okay."

  "Okay." Her tone sounds like she's accepted this is important to me. "I'll wait up for you. Honk when you get here."

  "Thank you." As always, I can count on my mom to come through for me. Anyone in my family would be there for me right now, but she's the one I need.

  "I'll do some research on rohypnol and have a treatment plan for her."

  "Yes. That's what I want."

  "I hear you, Cutter. I hear this is important to you," she says with love in her voice.

  "It is." Thank God she heard me.

  "I'm here for you. Foster is too."

  "I know you are. Thanks. I'll be there in four hours."

  Chapter 5 Space Brothers

  Cass

  My eyes open and we're hurtling through space with screeching noises and bright stars zipping by.

  I'm strapped in under a vibrating piece of glass. When I inhale, only thin air comes through. To my left, the heat of a being frightens me.

  My legs prepare to run, but my feet won't move. I'm floating in zero gravity.

  The screeching stops. "You awake?" a deep voice asks me from a distance.

  Clearing my throat hurts.

  There's only one explanation for all this.

  "Was I abducted?" My voice sounds like I'm in a tunnel.

  "Uh. Sort of," the deep voice responds.

  "Is this your spaceship?" I ask the voice.

  A chuckle answers me, followed by "No."

  Darn. "Just my luck, I finally get abducted by aliens and they have no spaceship."

  More chuckles before dark fog fills my vision. First there's smoke, then the screeching picks up again. Before I can panic, it all goes black.

  ***

  My head pounds and my legs sting. What happened to me?

  Somehow I ended up in a big fluffy bed with slate gray sheets. This place looks like a rustic cabin. Pine trees block the view through the window. I have no idea where I am except I'm certain I'm not in Los Angeles anymore.

  A conversation in another room pulls my gaze to the doorway.