Sinful Truth (Sinful Truths Book 1)

by Ella Miles

  My ears are alert, listening for any sign of Julian or his guards. I will have to take out his guards too, but I hope when I finally get to Julian, it will end with just the two of us fighting.

  My eyes scan the darkness, and I see a shadow move in the living room.

  Cautiously, I hold my gun out as I move through the dark entryway. When I get to the living room, I see Julian seated in a chair towards me, waiting.

  Shoot him. Now.

  End this.

  But something stops me.

  And then, it’s too late.

  The lights flick on, and I see thirty men surrounding Julian.

  I don’t drop my gun, though. I’ve been outnumbered before. I have a fifty-fifty chance of winning, killing every bastard here.

  If it was just me I had to worry about, I might take those odds. Fifty-fifty is pretty good when it comes to a gunfight. Technically, just fighting a man one on one is fifty-fifty odds, because all it takes is one shot—one bullet to hit me in just the wrong spot for me to lose. But one on one, I’ve never lost before, so I consider my odds much higher.

  But with this many men—fifty-fifty.

  There is a fifty-fifty chance I live or die.

  A fifty-fifty chance I return to Siren.

  A fifty-fifty chance I can protect her.

  A fifty-fifty chance Julian finds her and finishes what he started.

  I can’t take the chance. Because if I fail, Siren is who will pay for my loss, not me. Sure, I’ll be dead, I won’t even realize I lost. But I won’t have to suffer the consequences like she will.

  I look around at the thirty men I’ve never seen before. Julian’s operation is bigger than I realized. Where has he been hiding this army? They are muscular, confident, and know how to hold a gun from the looks at them. Any one of them could do the job Julian asked of me. So why does he want me?

  “We’ve been waiting for you,” Julian says, with a grin.

  I don’t lower my gun, and none of the men draw theirs. It’s like they know Julian isn’t really in any danger. That’s either a mistake on their part or mine.

  Fuck—I’ve already lost.

  Julian snaps his fingers and looks at the man on his right. “Load up. Zeke will be right there to lead you.”

  The men all file out of the room. Now’s my chance. It’s just me and Julian.

  I don’t lower the gun, but I don’t pull the trigger either. I wouldn’t be shocked if Julian already has a man near my house, ready to attack Siren if anything goes wrong tonight.

  I put in extra security measures at the house. I even left a gun under Siren’s pillow to protect her. But it won’t be enough if I don’t return.

  “I’m done,” I say.

  I lower my gun. I mean it. Julian still needs to die, but it doesn’t have to happen tonight. I have to put Siren first. I have to protect her at all costs, which means returning to her as fast as possible and then getting us off this fucking island.

  Julian folds his hands and cocks his head up as he looks at me. “You owe me a debt, Zeke. I saved your life.”

  I toss my gun in front of him. “And consider this me saving yours. I should have killed you for what you did. You touched what was mine without permission.”

  I study his face. His has caked-on makeup to cover the bruising on his face. He’s still injured two weeks later.

  Good.

  I’d rather him be in the hospital right now, or better yet, six feet under. But knowing he’s bruised and hurting brings me some level of satisfaction.

  Julian shakes his head. “I don’t accept.”

  I frown. “You don’t have a choice.”

  “I have thirty men who say otherwise.”

  I growl.

  “But I’m willing to negotiate; I’m a fair man. I think we can come to an agreement if you want out.”

  I don’t like the sound of this.

  “I’ll give you a choice for paying your debt off. You can either transport the women to their new owners and ensure we get paid more than a fair amount for each, or you can buy your freedom.”

  My chest rises and falls heavily. Julian doesn’t own me. I shouldn’t have to pay for my freedom. But right now, I’ll do anything if it means I don’t have to fall deeper into the depths of hell.

  “How much?”

  Julian twists his mouth, thinking for a moment. “Let’s see, the going rate for a person seems to be what? Thirty million?”

  I narrow my eyes. It’s the amount I paid for Siren. He wants me to pay him the same amount to earn my own freedom.

  “And since I’ll most likely lose my account with Oscar over this, since none of my current men have any brains when it comes to business, I’ll require a bonus. Your pet will do.”

  The money was one thing; adding Siren means the choice isn’t even an option. I will never betray Siren again.

  Julian grins. “Money and one girl, or you sell two hundred women. I would think the choice is easy since two hundred is more than one. One girl can’t mean that much to you, can she?”

  Fuck him.

  He knows.

  He knows I’ve never touched Siren.

  Never fucked her.

  He knows I only bought her to save her. And he knows I don’t want to sell the other women; I’m not that kind of man. This is a test, and no matter what I choose, I lose.

  “Which will it be? Pay for your freedom and give up one girl? Or become the monster you hate and sell two hundred humans into slavery?”

  I already know my choice, and I hate it. I hate him. But I never had a choice.

  “I need to ensure Siren will be safe. That you won’t touch her. No man will.”

  Julian nods. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I already have a new security system in place. I will be able to see everything that goes on inside my house. I want you to place three of your best men on guard outside of the house. I want you to hire a cook and nurse who you trust to cook and take care of Siren while I’m gone.”

  “Done.”

  “You won’t touch her. You won’t go near the house. You will never lay a hand on her again.”

  “Are you finished?”

  “No, I’ll do the job. But you won’t get the money until I return. Until the job is over, and I know Siren is safe.”

  Julian frowns. “And if you screw me over, what I did to your pet before will seem kind compared to what I will do.”

  I suck in a breath. I can’t fail. If I do, Siren’s life will be on the line.

  I hold out my hand, and he shakes it.

  Then, I turn to find the thirty men who will work for me while I do the job.

  A job that will destroy my soul.

  A job that will consume my heart.

  A job that will turn me into the devil.

  I can’t save them. That’s the lie I keep telling myself. Because I can save them. And two hundred is greater than one, but I choose Siren instead. It’s a choice I will never regret.

  27

  Siren

  It’s been twenty-three days.

  Twenty-three fucking days.

  I haven’t heard from Zeke for twenty-three days.

  And it’s driving me mad.

  Sure, he has guards posted outside my window protecting me, but they’re probably keeping me inside as much as they are keeping people out.

  And sure, I’ve had a private chef come cook for me the most delicious food every night. He’s even been teaching me how to cook.

  And yes, a home nurse came over every day to check on me while I was healing. Once I’d healed, she still came to bring me movies, books, and entertainment. She would talk about gossip in town, and the horrible storms we’ve been having.

  But none of that matters. Zeke isn’t here.

  And I’m trapped in his fucking house.

  I don’t know what’s happening, and yet, I know. He’s doing the job Julian asked of him. He’s trafficking women. Even after everything Julian did to me, Zeke is still
making that man money.

  Fuck him.

  He’s nothing but a spineless coward. He should have told Julian to go fuck himself, find himself a new number two. Instead, he went in the middle of the night, the second Julian called. Zeke put Julian above me—again.

  I’m done. I’m so done. As soon as Zeke gets back, I’m ending this.

  I’m done being captive.

  I’m done waiting for Zeke to decide what to do with me.

  I’m done.

  I hear the front door slam shut—Zeke.

  He’s finally back.

  And I’m ready to give him hell.

  I run through the house full of rage, ready to tell him off. To demand answers. To finish this.

  But I stop in my tracks at the sight of him sitting on the stairs and kicking off his shoes.

  Zeke looks horrible, like he hasn’t slept in a month. His boots are covered—in mud, blood, water, and god knows what. His jeans are splattered with more dark red spots. His leather jacket has rips in it. And his once white T-shirt looks more gray than white. He now wears a full beard, having not shaved for twenty-three days. And his hair is technically in a man bun, but most of his hair has fallen out, and he hasn’t bothered to fix it.

  Maybe I shouldn’t pounce yet?

  I should let him have a day.

  A day to shower, eat, sleep.

  No.

  This is war. He deserves everything that is coming.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” I shout, folding my arms and sticking my hip out as anger consumes me.

  Zeke doesn’t look up. He just unties his second boot before slipping it off.

  “Did you hear me? Or did you lose your hearing the twenty-three days you’ve been gone?”

  His head snaps up—pain. His sight lasers through my heart. He’s hurting so fucking much.

  Well, too bad. He’s not the only one in pain.

  “You don’t get to just leave me for a month on my own trapped in this house!” I shout, walking toward him.

  He stands up. “Watch your mouth, Siren. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

  “I have no idea what you’ve been through? Are you fucking serious?”

  I push him square on the chest. He doesn’t move, but it still feels good. Instead, he steps around me.

  “I know exactly what you’ve been through because it’s been the only thing I’ve been thinking of this entire time,” I scream.

  I follow him, and when he turns down the hallway, I push again. This time, he’s off-balance enough to take a small step back.

  “You’ve been tying women up.”

  Push.

  “Threatening their lives with your gun.”

  Push.

  “Locking them up in cages.”

  Push.

  “Transporting them to far off countries in the back of vans and cargo holds.”

  Push.

  “Making calls with the most disgusting men in the world.”

  Push.

  “Negotiating costs and pushing prices higher and higher so you and Julian can make more money.”

  Push.

  Zeke’s body is pressed flush against the wall now. I’m unhinged—my body relentlessly pushing his against the wall over and over.

  I can’t remember being this pissed with a man before. But why? He did his job. He’s just like Julian and every other man on this island.

  Because I was stupid enough to think that Zeke might be better. That he had a speck of good in a sea of bad, but he’s just like all the rest.

  “Do it,” I say, shoving again.

  He frowns, not understanding what I’m saying.

  “Rape me! Hurt me! Be a fucking man!” I push again. “You’ve already hurt hundreds of women. I’m not any different than any of them. Stop pretending you are the good guy. You’re not a good man. You’re evil. The devil!”

  Zeke doesn’t move, even when I push him again.

  My body is boiling. I’m red, exhausted, and angry, but I can’t stop. I need this to end. One way or the other, I need this over.

  “Stop pretending you need the excuse of the stupid game to sin!” I cry.

  This time when I launch myself, my body falls into his. I’m too exhausted to hold myself up anymore. Too angry.

  Zeke holds me gently in his arms. My head rests on his chest, and his arms hold me up at the elbows.

  We are both still for a moment. I pant heavily against his chest as I watch his rise and fall. My ear is pressed against his pec, and I can hear it—the thumping of his heart. It’s accelerated. Beating as fast as mine.

  I look up and see the pain on Zeke’s face, mixed with desire. He’s desperate for me, yet he still exercises restraint.

  I’m tired of him being a gentleman to me when he’s a monster to everyone else. I need to see the real him. It’s the only way.

  I lift my head from his chest.

  He freezes as if he can read my mind and already knows where this is going. If he just stays still, he’ll be able to resist.

  But he’s a man, a monster—he won’t be able to stop himself.

  I rise on my tiptoes, and then, I kiss him.

  I melt as soon as our lips touch. His are so soft, so welcoming, so mine.

  Fuck, where did that thought come from?

  He tilts his head, letting me in more as his deep voice strains against his vocal cords as I slide my tongue into his mouth.

  Yes, stop resisting—show me who you really are.

  I grab his neck, holding his lips to me as we kiss harder, our mouths begging for more. For more than a kiss can give.

  It’s an endless kiss—wet, and hot, and delicious. I love everything about it. How he moves his tongue, how his lips part, even the scruffy hair on his face against my cheeks.

  It’s what I’ve been searching for forever. But it’s not real. This isn’t the real Zeke.

  At the same time, we push each other away, until we are arms-length apart.

  Our hands still hold each other. His hands claw my shoulders, and mine graze the surface of his biceps. We pant hard and fast. Neither of us is getting enough oxygen right now to think clearly.

  “Why did you stop? You know you don’t want to,” I breathe out.

  His eyes turn in his head. He’s fighting his self-control—hard. And his dick is winning.

  Yes, just a little more, and I’ll have you. You’ll show me your true monster, and then I can use it against you. But what will it cost me?

  “Why did you stop?” He throws my words back at me.

  “This isn’t about me. This is about you. About the monster you’ve become.”

  He shakes his head with a sexy grin as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Like that’s all it takes for him to get rid of me—ha.

  “Oh, beautiful. You really think I’m the only one with a monster inside?” His eyes meet mine. “If I’m a beast, you’re a tiger. Just as vicious, just as willing to devour innocent prey.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  And we both attack again.

  He goes for my hair; I go for his jacket.

  He pulls my hair back, tilting my head as he lays another kiss on my neck as I push his jacket off.

  He grabs my neck, pulling me tightly to him, not willing to let me go. I grab the V of his shirt and rip it all the way down the middle until I see his rippling muscles and tattooed body.

  His hand tangles into my hair, fisting it back, giving himself better access to my lips. I want more, and so does he.

  I grab his scrunchie and rip it out of his hair as he pushes my shirt up as he feels my smooth stomach.

  Progress.

  But then, he snaps back.

  I reach for him, but I feel nothing but air.

  He’s glued to the wall, his hands stuck to his side.

  I laugh. “You afraid?”

  “You have no idea,” he pants.

  I touch my swollen lip with my finger. I want more. And now I’m afraid. Because I’
m not supposed to want him back. I’m supposed to be in control. But a few kisses and I want him as badly as he wants me.

  “I have an idea.” I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head.

  He groans at the sight.

  He didn’t realize I wasn’t wearing a bra when his hands were all over my stomach.

  His eyes flutter up to the ceiling, as if not looking is going to save him. He already has my body ingrained in his head. There is no escaping.

  “Zeke?” I say, my voice dropping to serious levels.

  His eyes carefully drop back to me, attempting not to catch a glance of my boobs, of my nipples hardening for his touch.

  “Yes?” He answers.

  “Kiss me.”

  We charge at each other. This time he grabs my ass, and my legs wrap around his body. I feel his erection push between my legs; my nipples rub against his chest as our mouths collide.

  This is what has been missing—these kisses. This…I’ve never felt whole kissing another man. I’ve never felt protected and safe. But Zeke forces me to feel all of it.

  His lips are evil liars, but incredibly sexy and talented liars.

  I’ll call him out on the lying later. Right now, I just want to kiss him. Enjoy my last moments of pleasure with this man.

  He spins us around, until my back is against the wall, and breaks the kiss far too soon.

  I pout.

  He chuckles, giving me a wink, before he dips his head down and finds my nipple.

  “Ah, fuck,” I moan, holding onto his head to keep him from pulling away again.

  I thought his tongue was talented in my mouth, but it’s reaching new levels on my nipple. The sensation radiates all over my body. I’m throbbing between my legs, needing so much more than he’s currently offering. This can’t stop. Not until…

  Until I let him fuck me?

  Because that can’t happen. I can’t reward him like that for all the shitty things he’s done. Even if it’s a reward for myself too.

  Once again, Zeke stops.

  This time I do too.

  What the hell are we doing?

  We can’t keep doing this.

  We hate each other.

  We want to destroy each other.

  And kiss each other, lick each other, fuck each other…