by Nicole Fox
“No.”
“No?”
“No, he didn’t.” She looks up at me in confusion and I press on. “You’re not broken. You’ve fought me at every turn. Even when the odds were against you. If anything, what happened only made you stronger.”
She gives me a sad, tentative smile, though I can tell she doesn’t mean it. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“Why did you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m sick of trying to hide from my own thoughts,” she admits. “Maybe… I want you to understand me the way I’m trying to understand you.”
She looks down between her feet as though she’s revealed something excessively, embarrassingly personal. The air is fragile with tension. Like it might shatter at any moment.
“I can’t save you, Renata,” I whisper. “And you sure as hell can’t save me.”
“Save you from what?”
“You’re not the only one with demons.”
She reaches out and rests her fingertips on my forearm. So light and graceful that I can barely sense it.
“What happened?” she asks.
“This place happened.”
“The Room?”
“Yes.”
“You brought someone here,” she guesses.
I nod. “Yes.” I can feel the enormity of the story pressing up in my throat. Begging to be told. To be shown the light so I can purge it from me.
But it’s too big. Too painful. Too many sharp edges to cut myself on.
“Do you know what happened after I was married?” Renata asks.
I meet her gaze.
“Drago realized quickly that Logan had no interest in a real alliance. He played us both. And Drago, God help him… he came to save me. He pulled all his allies together, called in every favor he could, and he stormed the clubhouse. Killed them all. Burned it to the ground.”
I recoil, surprised that he would do that for her.
“I was chained in the basement of the clubhouse. They pulled me out of the wreckage. And when I woke up, there was my brother—my guardian angel, I thought. I wanted to thank him for rescuing me from that nightmare. But before I could, he slapped me across the face and told me to stop crying or he’d find another biker in need of a wife. And I realized something: the nightmare wasn’t over. It’ll never be over.”
My chest aches. She’s been through so much in her life. She’s lost all hope. Getting battered by evil men again and again has drained almost every drop of fire from her.
But not all of it. There’s hope in there. There’s still a spark.
I just have to make her see it.
“When I get my hands on your brother,” I snarl. “I’m going to make him regret every single time he put his hands on you.”
Her eyes go wide, as though she can’t quite believe my reaction. “Why do you even care?”
I glare at her. “Because I’m no monster. And I think you know that.”
She holds my gaze for a few seconds. Then she nods. “I think I’m starting to.”
I hesitate for a moment longer. Then I sigh and say what I haven’t said in almost fifteen years. “She didn’t see that, though. The woman I brought here. Her name was Annabelle. She loved me, I think. Maybe I loved her—I don’t know. And for a while, we were happy. But I’ve got this darkness in me. The Room is the only place I can let it out.”
Renata watches me, silent and free of judgment. I can’t meet her eyes, though. I stare at the stone wall behind her instead.
“I brought her down here one day. And she said the same things you’re saying. Show me. Explain it to me. Teach me what to do. Stupidly, I did it.”
Renata winds her fingers between mine. “And then what?”
I force myself to drag my eyes up to hers. I’m no fucking coward. I can tell the story without it tearing me apart.
“I hurt her,” I say simply. “It was an accident. But it was because we didn’t understand each other. We didn’t understand control. But that shit doesn’t matter at the end of the day. All that matters is that I hurt her and she ran. I never saw her again.”
I drop Renata’s hand and pivot away to do a slow pace around the perimeter of the room. “She stared into the abyss and the abyss stared right back into her. And because she didn’t know what it was—because I didn’t know how to keep her safe… it cost us everything.”
I finish my circuit and stop in front of Renata once more. “I’m not a monster, Renata. But there’s a monster in me. There always has been. And when you say to me the same things that Annabelle said… it wakes that monster up.”
I sink into a seat in the plush leather armchair in one corner of the room. It’s shrouded in shadow. My body is thrumming with dark, swirling energy. Mind racing with thoughts of that night all those years ago.
The red welts on Annabelle’s fair skin.
The shocked O of her mouth.
The blood. The tears. The screams.
And then her footsteps, racing up the stairs and disappearing forever.
I feel like I’m going to be sick. My chin falls against my chest and my eyes close.
Then I feel a presence slide in front of me. When I look up, it’s Renata.
And she looks like a fucking angel. Framed by the amber lights, she’s glowing around the edges. Dark hair, long and smooth, waist curving so thin that it looks like it should snap with the slightest pressure. Her lips are full and plump, her fingers graceful and thin.
I’ve never wanted anyone more.
In forty-five years, I’ve never felt this urge so powerfully.
And it’s for the one woman I can’t have.
“Show me what to do,” she whispers.
I’m being torn in two. I ruined this woman’s life when she was just a child. Just a little girl. Even now, she’s so young in my eyes. So fresh and unscathed, even after all the horrors she’s survived. It would be wrong to touch her. Wrong to take her.
But my God, the desire…
“I can’t,” I force myself to say.
She pauses, eyes churning. Then, without another word, she walks over to the wall, where the implements hang. She selects a black leather cat o’ nine tails whip and pulls it down carefully.
Turning back to me, she takes long, elegant steps. Each one feels like it lasts a century.
I watch her move. Her legs are tanned and toned. Her hips rock side to side with each stride. And most of all, that look in her eyes. That blazing fucking fire.
My cock strains hard against my zipper. I’m squeezing the hell out of the armrests, knuckles white against my skin.
She stops in front of me. “Show me what to do, Kian,” she says again.
This time, her voice is fucking irresistible.
I feel like I’m in a dream, an out-of-body experience. I rise to my feet and take the whip she offers me.
She pirouettes away like a dancer and walks over to the iron table in the middle of the space. I’m mesmerized by the shimmering light in her hair as she faces away from me. Her hands make quick work of the clasp on her jeans.
She shoves them down her thighs. Leans forward over the table.
The light on her ass is a fucking marvel. A perfect curve. Unmarked skin, ripe and beautiful.
I’m torn between now and fifteen years in the past.
The way Annabelle screamed…
“Show me what this place is for, Kian,” Renata murmurs.
The lash of her blond hair as she turned the corner of the stairs…
I raise the whip. Renata’s hands squeeze the edge of the table in anticipation.
The fading sounds of Annabelle’s tears as she went away, away, away…
I can do it. I can have her. I won’t make the same mistakes I did before. This time will be different. This time will be better.
And then I remember the last thing Annabelle said, just before she fled.
“I trusted you.”
Trust, control—they mean nothing and everything at the sa
me time. Renata thinks she wants this because she’s been born in pain, bred in pain.
And I caused that. I’ve hurt her already, twenty years ago, and the memory of that day has caused every scrap of pain she’s ever had since.
Logan, Drago, all the million injustices in between… that’s all my fault.
I’ve hurt this girl enough. I can’t do it again. Not if I want to avoid becoming the monster I’ve always sworn I’m not.
I let the whip fall from my hand. It clatters on the ground.
“Go,” I order in a gruff voice.
“What?” She turns to look at me. I glance away—I can’t look her in the eyes right now. I’m barely retaining control over myself. One moment of contact with those doe eyes will break that stranglehold.
“Pull your pants up and go,” I bark. “We’re not doing this.”
“But—”
“Now.”
She flinches away from me and hurriedly tugs her jeans back up over her hips. I can see her shaking, but I turn my back to her.
I listen as she slinks away. Hesitant at first, then faster and faster. And then she’s gone, and I’m alone again in the first place I ever confronted what I truly am inside.
Renata thought she wanted to know what happens down here. What this place really is.
I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth:
This is where a devil lands when he falls from heaven.
28
Renata
Renata’s Bedroom
I’m close to hysterics. My underwear is twisted around in my jeans and chafing at me like a reminder of how wrong everything that just happened truly was.
I feel horrible. Like some cheap plaything that’s been discarded without a second thought.
He barely even touched me. The pathetic part is that I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. All I know is that I want these clothes off of me. They feel stained, tarnished beyond use. And they smell like him. I want that gone. I want him gone.
But my hands are shaking too badly to undo the clasp on my jeans a second time. I’m still trying to get them free when a soft knock sounds against my door. Anger burns through me as I turn to face it.
“I don’t want to see you!” I scream, barely holding back tears. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”
“Renata,” a soft voice calls. “It’s me. Aisling.”
My anger abates slightly as I fumble at the knob and unlock it. She slips inside cautiously, her eyes wide with concern.
The moment she notices how bedraggled my clothes are from my attempts to tear them off of me, her expression turns to curious embarrassment. Which is probably what I should be feeling right now. But I’m maxed out at the moment. A girl can only take so much.
“Renata, what happened?”
“Can you help me get out of this?” I ask abruptly.
“Of course.”
It takes her only a few moments to gently coax my jeans down my legs and my shirt over my head. Before I can even ask, she brings me a pair of sweats and a soft white hoodie.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
After I’m dressed, I move to the window and plop down on the lounge chair placed in front of it, drawing my knees to my chest.
Aisling hovers near my shoulder. “Can I get you anything?” she asks. “Water? Tea?”
“Can you just sit down with me, please?”
She hesitates only for a moment before she sits down opposite me. Her hair is slicked back, but the messy bun she’s got going on is understated and attractive.
“Are you okay?” Aisling tries again.
“No,” I say, when I’m sure my voice won’t break. “No, I’m not. He humiliated me.”
“Master Kian?”
“Master,” I scoff. “He was just playing with me. All that shit he was spewing about trust… it was all bullshit. Lies.”
Aisling watches carefully without saying anything.
I turn to her, daring her to challenge me. “I’ll bet you disagree?”
She shrugs. “Yes, I do. Master Kian is not a liar.”
“Has he found your husband and daughter yet?” I demand. “Huh? Has he?”
“No,” she admits. Then she adds, with absolute certainty, “But he will.”
It must be nice to have that kind of faith in someone. Honestly, after everything Aisling has been through, I’m surprised she can trust anyone at all.
“You’re being naïve.”
I know I’m being a bitch, but I can’t stop myself. Kian’s the only one who deserves my anger, but he’s not around. And a part of me is happy about that. If he were here, it would be next to impossible to look him in the eye.
My body heats up when I think about how I bent over that table for him like it’s what I was always meant to do.
Except that something had happened. Somewhere in the middle of it all, something had shifted.
He decided he didn’t actually want me. And of course, he had made the discovery right when it was most obvious that I wanted him. I showed him my whole hand, and in return, he just laughed.
Fucking bastard.
“You’re hurt,” Aisling says softly, pulling me out of my bitter reverie. “But I’m sure Master Kian—”
“You don’t even know what he did,” I snap. “Do you want to?”
“I—”
“He has a secret chamber filled with fucked-up sex shit hidden underneath this picture-perfect little mansion,” I tell her, betraying his secret in anger.
Her eyes widen a little, but I can tell that she’s not quite as shocked as I was. “Oh.”
“Oh?” I repeat. “Did you suspect as much? Did you know about his little torture room?”
“No. But I’ve seen enough sex to know that different people like different things.”
“How progressive of you.”
“Did you walk down there yourself?” she asks quietly. “Or did he force you to go?”
I falter. “I…” She eyes me and I swallow back whatever I was about to say. “I went myself,” I finish.
“Exactly. He didn’t force you—because he would never,” she says confidently. “Master Kian is not that kind of man.”
I’m about to scoff in her face when something strikes me. How can a woman employed by a man like Kian have such faith, such conviction in his morality? In his word? How can she assume the best in him when she barely knows who he is?
Unless… there’s more to their relationship than meets the eye. I feel the anger ebb slowly, as jealousy takes its place. I know I’m being downright unreasonable. Almost manic. But I can’t help it. I’ve never felt this way about a man before. I have no fucking clue how to handle it.
And suddenly, I’m noticing other things. Like how naturally pretty Aisling is. She’s got that slightly tousled look to her blonde hair and beautifully clear eyes, the kind that make men do stupid things. She’s also got the kind of personality that most people tend to gravitate to. Soft-spoken, passive, gentle.
“You seem to know a lot about Master Kian,” I drawl, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone.
She raises her eyebrows just a fraction. “I have worked for him for a long time now.”
“Oh yeah? And you love it?” I ask. “You love working for him?”
She’s looking at me with a concerned frown now. “Renata, are you sure you’re alright? You sound… troubled.”
I’m about to say something particularly bitchy, but I hold back at the last moment. I cross my hands over my chest and try to calm myself down by looking out the window. The ocean looks peaceful from a distance, but further away from shore, the peaks of the waves are frothy and white.
“You’re intrigued by him, aren’t you?” Aisling asks bluntly.
I resist the urge to look at her. If I do, I might give myself away. “Why, yes, nice of you to notice. I am in fact curious about the man who stole me from my life.”
Aisling doesn’t say anything to that. We sit in silence f
or a moment, both of us gazing at the distant waves.
“You know, I didn’t always trust Master Kian like I do now,” she says after some time has passed. “In fact, in the beginning, I was wary. I suppose I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just like you are.”
I don’t respond. Two can play at that game. I don’t trust anyone in this godforsaken house. Not even the soft-spoken Irish girl with the kind smile and the heartbreaking story.
“He may have delivered me from an awful fate, but I was sure that it was for a darker purpose,” she continues. “He fit the mold, in any case. A powerful man with mob connections? I was sure I was just going to be transferred from one ring to another.”
She swallows. I glance over—not at her face, but at the trembling hands in her lap. She’s holding them together to quell the shaking but I can still see the fabric of her dress rustling with her anxiety.
“When he offered me a job here, I was terrified. I was sure that he would use me as a maid by day and then pass me off to his men at night. I prepared myself for it. In the end, maybe I even expected it.”
Finally, I drag my eyes up to her face. Something about her voice compels me to do it.
“So I wore the uniform, and I waited for someone to touch me. But no one did. When Master Kian called me to his office the first time, I felt sure that it was finally happening. Everything I’d always feared. But he kept his distance at all times. It was like he knew how skittish I would be around him. Around men in general. After what I’d been through…” She drifts off. “I’m still not wholly comfortable around men. I may never be. But with Master Kian, it’s different.”
The jealousy ignites again. It’s becoming so frequent that it’s familiar now. “Different?”
“I’m not delusional,” Aisling says firmly. “I know Master Kian is a dangerous man. I know what he has done and what he’s capable of. I’ve seen him kill a man right in front of my eyes. But I know he’s not a danger to me. And I don’t think he’s a danger to you, either, Renata.”
“Yes, well, we’re two very different women, aren’t we?” I shoot back at her. “You were a victim of rape and abuse. You did nothing wrong. I, on the other hand, am the daughter of his enemy.”