Angel (A Reverse Harem Bully Romance): The Brotherhood

by K. M. Raya

  I make it past the gates, surprised that there seems to be nobody around. Last time I was here there were men by the gates, monitoring who comes and goes. This time though, all is silent as I trudge up the expansive driveway.

  I knock on the front door a few times, but there's no answer. I know he’s here, but this house is so massive that if you're in the other room, you might not even hear the door. I decide to head around the side of the house. I remember there being a door in the kitchen area, maybe I can catch someone's attention.

  I peer through the window that faces the kitchen and spot Captain and Giles there, facing one another eye to eye. It looks like I caught them in the middle of a heated argument. Blood gushes from Captains nose, it runs down his swollen lip before dripping morbidly and offensively onto his crisp white school shirt. The deep red against the stark white is jarring and ugly.

  Giles looms over his son, not much taller or even more muscular than Captain, but still Cap refuses to defend himself. I’m so sick of seeing the bruises and the blood. They show up week after week—always in a new spot, though Cap tries to conceal them beneath his finery.

  I watch, biting my lip as Giles twists his son’s arm behind him, slamming him into the wall and causing his head to bounce off of the hard surface.

  That’s it.

  Fuck it.

  Fuck the Brotherhood and their fucking rules. This needs to stop before he kills his son.

  Bursting through the door, not bothering to be discreet, I whip out my gun and level it at Giles Montgomery. I’ve been bringing it with me everywhere after being assaulted one too many times.

  The nasty bastardo’s eyes widen a fraction before his plastic face settles into an ugly sneer.

  "You're playing with fire, little missy," he taunts as he let go of Cap’s arm. "Why don't you hand that weapon over here and we can have a little chat?" He’s trying to reason with me—as if I’m some sort of child to be bargained with.

  "I don't feel like talking. I suggest you get the fuck away from him before I put a hole in you."

  I don’t bother to mince words.

  Captain steps forward, still dripping blood from his head wound. It gushes down the side of his face but still he manages to scold me.

  "What the hell are you doing here, are you an idiot?" he asks desperately, anger lacing his words. "Put it away and go the fuck home, Angel," he hisses through clenched teeth.

  Why the hell is he mad?

  Does he not see me defending him?

  ‘Fucking ungrateful . . .’

  "You're just going to let him beat you like that? What the hell is wrong with you?"

  Captain frowns.

  "It’s none of your business. I didn't invite you here, in fact—I don't even know how you managed to get past the gates," he trails off, but Giles chooses now to goad him.

  "You gonna let this little girl fight your battles for you, son?" Giles sneers.

  He still holds his hands up by his shoulders.

  "Don't you speak to him!" I snap, keeping my weapon trained on his forehead. "Don't you look at him, or even think about looking at him. You look at me now."

  A small grin tilts the man’s lips. It’s not a pleasant grin.

  "Looks like ole Sal hid some things from us, didn't he?" His eyes roam over my body.

  "Tell me, princess, where's he been hiding you all these years?"

  "Shut up," I sneer at the repulsive man. "Now I'll to ask you again—no . . . actually, I'm going to have to insist. Get the fuck out of here before I put a bullet sized hole in your body."

  I’m taking a risk here. Possibly a stupid, stupid risk. This man is powerful. He could probably have me killed if he was so inclined, but something tells me he has other plans that involve me remaining very much alive. Not to mention the fact that Papa would have him killed if he so much as touches me.

  My eyes flick to Captain, his glare hasn’t dimmed, but I have bigger issues. Even if he hates me, I refuse to watch him get beaten while I have the power to stop it. From the corner of my eye I see Giles glance back and forth between the two of us with the creepiest smile plastered on his too plump lips.

  "Alright, you win," he relents, but still I don’t trust it. "I'm needed elsewhere anyways. I'll see you tonight, son—you know where." He nods to Captain, who nods back curtly.

  I hate they way he’s acting civil towards the man who beats him bloody.

  Giles sends me one last hard look before he turns tail and stalks out of the room. I wait until the front door clicks shut to flick the safety back on and shove the gun back into the waistband of my skirt..

  Captain’s on me in seconds. With his face an inch from mine, his eyes blaze with fury and his breathing is erratic.

  "Do you have some sort of deathwish?" he asks. "I told you to stay out of it. I fucking told you to leave it alone and say nothing! Why can't you just listen?" He pulls at his icy locks before turning his back on me and placing his hands on the island countertop.

  I stand there, baffled.

  "You’re actually mad at me right now? What do you honestly expect?" I watch him, careful to keep my distance. "You show up every day with a new bruise, concussion or scar every single week and just . . . what? You just expect me to ignore that?"

  He turns to face me, throwing his hands in the air.

  “Yes! I expect you to fucking ignore it like a normal, sane person would! You have no idea what you're getting yourself into and you have no right to butt into my life like that!”

  I scoff.

  "Your so called 'friends' might be fine with seeing you beaten to death every week, but not me! I can’t sit there and watch that shit, not when I can do something about it. Why don't you just fight back? You're bigger than him and I know you can fight. I've seen it with my own eyes."

  Growling, he stalks forward, taking me by the shoulders and forcing me to look up at him.

  "You just don't get it, do you? For being a Capo’s daughter, you can be so fucking oblivious."

  Shrugging off his hands, I huff in annoyance.

  "I don't see what that has to do with anything. Do you know how many times my Papa's so called 'loyal men' have tried to touch me—or hurt me?"

  I watch his bright eyes narrow.

  "I've been beaten, harassed, assaulted . . . you name it! Hell—you are a part of that, you and your friends have threatened me, tortured me and stalked me for weeks, but know what?” I step up to his face. “I always defend myself."

  I’m breathing harder now, pent up rage swirling around deep, making my gut clench.

  Captains golden eyes soften ever so slightly.

  "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Angel . . . and I’m sorry for my part in it, but this isn't your battle to fight." He reaches out and gently lays a hand on my cheek.

  Unable to help myself, I lean into the touch.

  The feel of his skin on mine feels so right. He’s been nothing but an ass to me since I showed up in this horrible little town, but there’s a connection between us that’s almost stifling. Attraction pulses between us, and accompanying it is—understanding.

  "I can't watch that . . . what he does to you goes beyond anything—" I trail off, words clogging my throat.

  He looks torn.

  "I'm going to go get cleaned up, alright? If you're still here when I get out of the shower, we can really talk about this . . . if that's what you want," he suggests.

  With one last hard look into those sunset eyes of his, I just nod before casting my gaze to the hardwood floor at our feet.

  ✽✽✽

  He’s been in the shower for ten minutes but I can’t take it anymore. Unable to stop myself, I make my way up the Montgomery’s grand staircase and follow the massive hallway down until I come to a closed door with steam rolling in from beneath the crack.

  Surprised to find that the door is unlocked, I boldly push my way inside. The bathroom is massive and luxurious. With vaulted ceilings, three golden sinks and a glass paned shower that
could easily fit a baseball team.

  The room is filled with hot steam, causing droplets of sweat to form over my skin. My skirt sticks to the dampness as I approach the glass doors. Hesitating only a moment, I slide it open.

  "What the fu—" Captains startled curse trails off as our eyes meet through the steam. Surprise quickly turns to curiosity as I stand there, contemplating my next move.

  Without thinking any more on it, I step into the shower fully clothed. The hot water hits my skin, plastering the cotton to my legs and chest but I don’t care, not while he’s looking at me like this.

  Looking down, I watch for a moment, mesmerized by the swirl of red as it trickles down the drain. Looking up, I see that Captain is watching me closely, waiting to see what I’ll do next.

  His naked body is a work of fucking art. He’s built like the Greek gods of old—the ones carved in marble for lesser mortals to worship and idolize. Despite the bruising that decorates his tanned skin, he’s beautiful. It’s the only way to describe someone like Captain. He’s beautiful, toned and hard in all the right places.

  Grabbing a washcloth, I set to work as I grasp his hand in mine and proceed to wash his arm gently, dragging the soft fibers against his bloody wounds with care—trying not to hurt him.

  He watches me in utter bewilderment, eyes latched onto my every movement, but he never tries to pull away. It’s as if not a single person has ever cared for him this way in his entire life.

  "I'm not made of glass, you know," he attempts to tease, but his voice sounds off. There’s a breathy quality to it that hadn't been there before.

  Ignoring him, I continue to clean him thoroughly. I need the blood to disappear. I can’t even explain this absolute need I feel writhing beneath my skin—to rid him of every trace of pain his father inflicted on him.

  I need to make him better.

  Tears prick my eyes and before I can stop them, they spill over onto my cheeks, their wet tracks blending in with the shower water but Cap sees them all.

  "Hey, hey now . . . it's alright," he coos as he places his big hands on both of my wet cheeks. "Baby, don't cry.”

  It’s no use though, the tears are flowing and there’s no stopping them now. I feel so much shame right now. I’m supposed to be this tough person, an unshakeable pillar of strength. I'm the daughter of a mob boss for fucks sake and here I am blubbering like a child.

  I can’t help it though. This life is so hard and so cold. It’s been a long time since someone has touched me with affection—since I’ve been held like I mean something to another person or vice versa.

  Cap must have realized this, because instead of comforting me with more empty words, his lips are on mine, licking up my salty tears and stealing the breath from my lungs.

  I kiss him back, pressing into his hard body and dragging my hands up his wet chest.

  He’s so tall that I’m forced to stand on my tip toes just to reach his lips.

  He groans as my tongue invades his mouth. His hands reach for the hem of my wet shirt and peels it up and over my head before unclasping my dark red lace bra. Next goes my skirt which pools at me feet before I kick it away. In no time, I’m as naked as he is, skin flush with Captain’s as his hands roam my overheated skin.

  His soft lips trail over my shoulder and across my collar bone and I let my head fall back— loving the sensation of his teeth as they nip at my skin.

  His cock hardens against my stomach. Shifting position, I adjust my body so that my core rubs right up against his granite length, making him moan in appreciation. I’m so wet for him—and not because of the shower.

  There’s no time for foreplay, our need for one another is so intense, it’s almost frantic.

  Captain hooks his hands beneath my thighs, hoisting me up until my back rests against the shower wall. His cock slips into me in one smooth motion making me cry out in pleasure.

  He buries his face into my shoulder as he starts to thrust. It begins as a smooth and synchronized rhythm, both our bodies slipping against one another, coaxing out moans and sighs as the heat builds between us.

  My fingers tangle in his wet hair that looks dark and silver now and I pull on the strands making him shudder in pleasure. Everything about this moment is frantic and urgent. The tension has been building between us from day one, just waiting to be unleashed. Since the moment our lips touched that day at his party, this moment has been inevitable.

  Captain needs me as much as I need him, his body melding with mine like some sort of cosmic collision.

  His thrusts come faster and harder—so hard that I can feel my shoulder blades smacking into the tile wall. Faster and faster he slams into me, shaking the wall hard enough to rattle the glass doors.

  His moans are just as loud as mine, he holds nothing back and every so often, he stops thrusting to grind, making my clit pulse and throb until I feel the telling sign of warmth in my lower abdomen.

  As his moans and my screams reach their crescendo, both of us crash over the edge together, reveling in the height of ecstacy, clinging to one another until the very last moment.

  Even after the moment passes, Captain holds me there against the wall, letting the cooling water rain down over us.

  His golden eyes refuse to leave mine. As I watch him back, something changes in his eyes. Something deep, earth shattering and completely reciprocated.

  "You're going to ruin me," he whispers against my lips.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Angel

  “Hold your horses, damn! Give me five and I'll meet you out back,” I groan at Beth before clicking off the phone.

  I forgot she’d invited me over to her place to swim and now I’m dreading it. What’s that old saying about making plans when you're in a good mood?

  Oh yeah—don’t.

  Grabbing my swimsuit, I head over to her place which isn’t all that far from my own. The neighborhood’s not quite as upscale as the one I live in, but the houses here are quaint. I remember Beth telling me that she lives with her Aunt. The house is medium size and looks like a fairytale cottage. It's a stark contrast to the beach homes that litter the mountainsides and immediately puts me at ease.

  I walk around the side of the house, knowing Beth and the girls are probably already in the pool. Sure enough, I was right. Kara and Les are floating in the center of the pool on one of those gigantic circular blow up floats, while Beth sunbathes on a lawn chair. She’s already got some sort of cocktail on the table next to her, though it's barely noon. The girls wave from the water before going back to what they were doing.

  “Thought you were gonna bail on me,” Beth calls out as I make my way over.

  “I was,” I deadpan, setting my phone and keys on the small glass table next to an empty chair.

  Beth lowers her bright red sunglasses and squints up at me.

  “You really have a way with words, you know that?” She sips her drink before scooting her glasses back up her nose and settling back in her chair. “Go get yourself a drink and relax—you know, like normal people do on three day weekends.”

  I snort.

  “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

  “Through the back door and to the right—it’s the third door down the first hallway. And don’t mind Grace . . . she’s not feeling well today.”

  I nod and leave to find the bathroom.

  After changing into my dark red one piece suit with the sides artfully cut out, I make my way through the kitchen but stop short halfway there. Several photographs decorate the walls in the entryway.

  Each picture shows different variations of the same groups of girls, a couple of which look startlingly familiar. Two of the women I don’t recognize, but the two in the middle call out to me. The one on the left has light blonde hair, shining golden in the sun. Her blue eyes are the picture perfect copy of Bethany’s and it becomes clear to me that this must be her aunt.

  It's the woman next to her, however, that makes me stop short. Her dark hair is long and twisted in
to a braid that sweeps down her back and barely touches her hip bone. She’s beautiful and that smile that stretches across her face is infectious, but it's her eyes that steal the breath from my lungs.

  Grey eyes stare back at me, so much like the troubled boy who’d kissed me until I couldn’t remember my own name before abandoning me like the cold jackass he is. This can’t be anyone other than Charlotte Faux—Ellis’ mom.

  A woman sits in the living room, head tipped back, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. There's a half full bottle of Vodka on the table next to her.

  This is clearly Beth’s aunt—the blonde woman in the picture next to Charlotte.

  “Hello?” I call out to the woman. She doesn’t move, but her eyes flicker to me for a brief moment.

  “I’m Beth’s friend from school . . . are you Grace?”

  To my suprise, she grunts.

  “It’s nice to meet you . . . uh, is there anything I can help you out with, do you need me to get Beth?”

  I creep closer. She looks even worse up close. Grace looks like she could have been beautiful at one point, but it's as if the life has been sucked right out of her. Her yellow blonde hair hangs limp around her gaunt face and her light blue eyes are streaked with tired veins and shadowed by heavy bags. All traces of that happy, smiling girl on the wall are absent.

  I remember Beth telling me about some sort of illness she’d come down with a few years ago, but I never imagined this.

  “Yeah, you can leave me the fuck alone, h—how’s about that?” she slurs.

  She goes to take another swig from the bottle and I suppress the urge to swipe it from her hands. She’s clearly killing herself, but it's not my place. I’m the stranger here.

  Sitting on the couch, I’m careful to keep my distance, not really sure if she’s a violent drunk or not. Still, I know I might not get a better chance than this and I can’t pass it up. Through the window I can see that Beth has joined Kara and Les in the pool, so that should buy me a few minutes with Grace.