These Monstrous Ties: New Adult Dark Romance (Unsainted Book 1)

by K. V. Rose

  I roll my eyes, but my heart leaps at the sight of them. Even fucking Kristof.

  I want to get out of here. I want to get way from this shit. From my past. From what happened. I’m ready for it to end.

  The four of them walk through the door one at a time, and Trey kicks the door closed behind him.

  We’re thrown into darkness, muted only by the lamp on in the living room at our backs.

  “We can do this the easy way,” my brother drawls, “or the hard way.”

  Lucifer takes us back a step, and I hear the rest of the Unsaints shift with him. Lucifer isn’t aiming the gun at me, or them. I’m certain the others are, but I don’t take my eyes off of Jeremiah’s, even though it isn’t me he’s looking at.

  “You can let her go now and we all walk away from this, or I’ll cut your son into pieces and feed them to you, one by one.”

  No one says anything. Silence rings out after my brother’s words. No one is looking at me, save for Trey. He looks almost apologetic. But now is not the time for that.

  “You piece of shit.” It’s Ezra’s rumbling voice that breaks the silence. My brother’s eyes snap to his. “You motherfucker. You abandon us, break your fucking oath, and you dare to make demands of us?”

  Lucifer chuckles darkly, and when he speaks, I can hear the smile in his words. “You keep mistaking me for someone who cares about that child. About Julie. You got all of that wrong. It’s why you’re here, in this position.”

  Nicolas spits on the floor and works his jaw. “Wrong?” he counters, tilting his head, gun aimed at Lucifer at my back. Kristof’s and Trey’s are, too. “Funny, for a guy who doesn’t care, you were waiting in the shadows of the kid’s house. You dragged Sid out at gunpoint for him. Brought your cronies out for him. That doesn’t seem like someone who doesn’t care to me, Lucifer.”

  Lucifer has one arm around my front, and he tightens it against my chest. “Before I consider your request,” he says calmly, “what happened to Sid’s throat?”

  Kristof’s gaze darts to me and Lucifer notices. The fucking idiot just gave himself away. I feel Lucifer tense behind me.

  “I’m going to kill you,” he says quietly to Kristof.

  “Let me go.” That’s my voice joining the fray. I’m sick of being used as a pawn. “Let me go, Lucifer. You don’t want to kill me. Sure, you might want to fuck me again. To use me. But you don’t want to kill me, and they know that.”

  “Careful, Lilith.” Atlas’s words. “I wouldn’t tell Lucifer what he does and doesn’t want.”

  “Fuck you,” I snarl to Atlas. This earns a disapproving click of the tongue from Cain. I twist in Lucifer’s arms to meet Atlas’s dark eyes at my side. “Did you know?” I ask him. “Did you know he was going to rape me that night?”

  Atlas’s gaze doesn’t falter from my stare. “Rape?” he mocks, a smile curling on his lips. “Seemed like you wanted it to me.”

  I lunge at him, but Lucifer keeps his grip firm around my chest.

  “I will fucking carve out your tongue and shove it so far down your throat you’re going to choke on it.” That comes from my brother. For once, we’re on the same side.

  But Atlas smiles fully now, turning to my brother. “You never told her, did you?”

  That makes me pause.

  “I’m sick and fucking tired,” Lucifer begins, his voice low against my ear, but loud enough for all of them to hear, “of asking you the same fucking things over and over again, Sid. Who is he,” and I know he’s referring to Jeremiah, “to you? You have the same last name, but I know Jeremiah. I know him probably better than you. He’s fucking filth. You wouldn’t marry shit like that, no matter how rich he was. Who is he to you, Lilith? And don’t fucking lie to me.”

  His breath against my skin makes goosebumps form on my arms. All along my body. I meet Jeremiah’s gaze in the darkness. His brows are furrowed, and there’s a frown on his face. He actually looks worried.

  I have no idea why.

  I have no idea what it matters, at this point, what I am to Jeremiah. That I’m his sister. It’s very clear, based on the amount of muscle and guns Jeremiah has brought here, and based on the fact he’d followed me here, that he would kill for me. He might not pay a ransom or concede his territory or his business, but he’ll fire a gun into someone’s brain for me.

  That should be enough to Lucifer and the Unsaints.

  But the way Jeremiah is looking at me, and the amount of times Lucifer has asked the question…I want to know. I want to know what it matters.

  “He’s my brother,” I whisper.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Present

  No one moves, but the entire atmosphere in the room changes. It’s as if someone has taken the air from the house, closed everyone’s lungs. Choking us all. The tension is heavy but loud, like beating rain. And there’s a storm brewing, even as not a single word is spoken after my confession.

  And that’s what it feels like.

  A confession.

  I have no idea why.

  I turn, to see Lucifer’s face. And he lets me. His arms are still around me, but he lets me turn to him, and I tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

  Shock. That’s what’s written on his face. I’d expected triumph or joy or cold calculation, knowing what I am to Jeremiah. Knowing we’re blood. He doesn’t know how shallow that blood runs. Although he must know we were separated, since he knew Jeremiah for several years. Even still, I expected, knowing our tie, he would be elated.

  But the shock doesn’t morph into anything like elation. It morphs quickly into horror and then anger. He clenches his jaw, and he looks away from me, toward my brother. He aims the gun at Jeremiah with one hand.

  Atlas swears under his breath.

  None of my brother’s men say a word.

  But it’s Ezra that moves first.

  He barrels past all of us, straight into my brother, knocking his head against the door at his back. He flips his gun in his hand when they’re both on the floor and starts pistol whipping Jeremiah in the face.

  “You—sick—son—of—a—bitch!” he snarls, every word punctuated by the gun smashing into my brother’s face. I hear every hit, and I feel it, in my gut, jarring me. I make to run toward them, but Lucifer grabs me by my collar, yanking me backward into him. I fight against him with all that I’ve got, shoving and kicking and hitting. He only holds me tighter and then he pushes me into Mayhem’s arms, which lock around me in a grip it’s nearly impossible to breathe from.

  Lucifer kneels down next to Ezra, who is still attacking my brother. Nicolas, Trey and Kristof are screaming at Ezra, telling him to put the gun down, and I’m terrified they’re going to shoot one of them, and I don’t know why I care that they might shoot Ezra, but I do. Even as my brother’s face turns into nothing but a bloody pit, I’m terrified for Ezra, too. A man I don’t even know. And now Lucifer is in the fray, gripping Ezra’s face.

  “Stop,” he’s saying, his voice low, but Ezra keeps going, even though he can’t see, because Lucifer won’t let go of his head. “Stop,” Lucifer growls again.

  “I’m going to fucking blow your head off!” Kristof snarls, cocking the gun.

  I freeze as Cain holds a gun to my head, Mayhem’s arms holding me in place.

  “No, you’re not,” Cain says.

  Lucifer looks up, his eyes dark. But he doesn’t seem to care that one of his Unsaints is holding me at gunpoint. Why would he? Fuck, he was just holding me at gunpoint himself.

  Lucifer grabs Ezra’s shoulders and shakes him. But Kristof sees the gun at my head, and he, along with Nicolas and Trey, fall silent. Although no one lowers their weapons.

  No one except Ezra.

  Ezra’s chest is heaving, I can see from behind him, his back rising and falling. Lucifer hauls him up, and Ezra seems to just stand there, limp in Lucifer’s arms. Lucifer drags him back, and Ezra’s gun is dangling from his fingers. His hazel eyes are unseeing as he stares at the floor, and my ey
es snap to my brother’s face.

  Trey and Nicolas crouch down over him while Kristof keeps aiming his gun in the Unsaints’ direction. In my direction.

  Lucifer stands in front of me, facing me, Ezra now with one arm flung against Atlas, who is looking at him with concern, but not speaking. Ezra’s chest is still heaving.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill your brother,” Lucifer says.

  “Leave…her…alone.” My brother’s voice is hoarse. I’m surprised he’s still speaking.

  But something is wrong. There’s something everyone in this room knows that I don’t.

  Cain doesn’t lower the gun, but I notice his finger isn’t on the trigger. Mayhem still has me in a tight grip, Kristof is still aiming at us, and Trey and Nicolas are trying to help my brother sit up. Lucifer’s back is to them.

  “Lucifer.” His name comes out as a whisper. His eyes soften when he hears it.

  He shakes his head. “Sid,” he begs me, “tell me why.” He has a gun in his hand. It’s tapping against his thigh.

  “What’s going on?” I don’t know why my voice shakes. Nothing has changed since I told him the truth. Nothing at all. Jeremiah was my brother before I said the words. He’s my brother now, after I’ve said them. But a quick glance at Atlas, who squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before glancing at me and then back at Ezra at his side, tells me everything has changed.

  I remember Mayhem’s father kicked his sister out, for her fucking Atlas. I remember this is a tangled web. There are things I don’t know. Things I don’t understand.

  “He’s fucking with you, Sid.” But Jeremiah’s garbled words don’t ring true. He’s lying. But about what?

  Lucifer swallows. I remember the skeleton paint I first saw him in. I remember the hood over his curls. I remember his hands all over me. The knife. His teeth. His mouth. Our blood on our lips when we kissed.

  How he saved me, maybe without even knowing it.

  But I remember other things, too. How he passed me drink after drink. How he poured it down both of our throats when he laid on top of me in the underground asylum. I remember his last words to me. The last ones I remember anyway. With you by my side, we’ll figure that out, Lilith.

  I remember some of my last words to him, too. I’d do anything with you.

  “What happened, Lucifer?”

  Lucifer’s eyes are angry. He is angry.

  But I don’t look away from him.

  Someone is going to fucking tell me what all nine of these men are holding their breaths about. Someone is going to tell me what I need to know.

  Lucifer’s face actually crumples. He frowns, squeezes his eyes shut and runs his free hand over his jaw, then presses the palm of his hand against his eyes.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he whispers, lowering his hand but not meeting my gaze. “I’ve been looking for the past year. I’ve been looking fucking everywhere for you, Sid.” I watch the vein in his neck move as he swallows. “But I never got your name. I fucking never got it.”

  “Because you left me.”

  Atlas scoffs, and Mayhem snarls behind me, but they don’t say anything.

  “That’s right,” my brother chimes in from the floor behind Lucifer. He’s leaning against the door, Nicolas and Trey still crouched around him. But his voice is gaining strength. Before, he had seemed hesitant. But now he’s back in command. “He left you. He fucked you over. I took you in. Step back, Sid. Come to your brother, so I can put a bullet in this motherfucker’s brain.”

  Lucifer’s eyes snap up to mine. I notice, even in the darkness, that I can see them shining. “He’s lying,” he chokes out. He shakes his head, bites his lip. I realize Cain’s gun is not pressing against my head anymore.

  Whatever Lucifer is about to say, he doesn’t want to. I feel like I might faint. “He’s lying. I never left you, Sid. I would have never fucking left you. That night, when I saw you at that crosswalk, fuck. I saw the gun on your thigh. I knew it was real. When I spoke to you, I had an idea of what you meant to do. And I couldn’t. I didn’t know you. You didn’t know me. But I couldn’t have let you do it. And I would have never left you.”

  “That’s enough bullshit,” Jeremiah’s voice rings out in the quiet house. He’s pissed. He makes to stand up, but Nicolas and Trey hold him down.

  Atlas aims his gun at my brother, one arm still slung around Ezra.

  “If you shoot me,” Jeremiah tells Atlas calmly, “you will die. You do understand that, don’t you? You’re not actually as dumb as you look?”

  Atlas smiles. For the first time, I see the coldblooded monster in him. The same that’s in Lucifer. In my brother. Kristof. Ezra. Mayhem. Cain.

  Me.

  “I will,” Atlas agrees. “But you’ll be dead too, asshole. That’ll be enough for me.”

  My eyes are locked on Lucifer’s. I don’t care about the pissing match between Jeremiah and Atlas. I don’t care about Mayhem’s arms around me. I actually need him there, because I feel suddenly far too weak.

  “I woke up,” I say, my lip trembling. “I woke up and you were…you were gone. I was…” I choke back a sob. I take a breath in through my nose. Out through my mouth. I feel like I’m falling. I feel like I’m falling, and no one is going to catch me. Not this time. “My clothes…”

  Lucifer’s jaw tightens again. So does Mayhem’s grip, although it doesn’t feel menacing. “I’m so sorry, Sid. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m so fucking sorry.” Lucifer nearly sobs the words out.

  “What. Happened?!” I scream the words. Lucifer actually flinches. No one moves. It feels like no one is breathing.

  “It won’t change anything,” Jeremiah says coldly. “It won’t make this better. You do understand that, don’t you? We can settle this between us. But you won’t make her love you.”

  “It wasn’t me, Lilith.” Lucifer looks equal parts anguished and angry.

  I need to know what the fuck happened that night before I decide how I’m going to change this.

  “It wasn’t me. It was him.” His eyes flick to Jeremiah at his back, narrowing into slits as he turns his head. With an effort, he tears his gaze away from him, focuses back on me. “He found you. At the merry-go-round.” I remember. “But he didn’t know, then, I don’t think, who you were. He just wanted you. We never trusted him, but we tried. God we fucking tried. He would’ve been the only one that could’ve fucked us on Unsaints’ Night. The only fucking one.” He cradles his head in his hands for a second. Then he looks up.

  He bites his lip. I see blood gleaming on it when he starts to speak again. “He should have fucking killed me. My God.” He covers his mouth with his hand, smearing the blood. Then he lowers it. “He…he tried to hurt you, Sid.” He shakes his head and his voice trembles. “He came back. He tried to hurt you.” The last words come out as a growl. “He made me watch it happen. You…you were barely conscious. Barely awake. But you thought he was me. You let him, because you didn’t know. Oh my God, you didn’t know. He made me watch. I couldn’t move. He had drugged all of us. Fucking all of us.” I remember the table with drinks in the foyer of the rundown asylum. “Then he smashes a bottle over my head and tied me to a goddamn concrete pole. He waited until I was awake.”

  His chest rises and falls, faster and faster. He swipes his face again, as if he can get the memory out of his head. “He waited. I tried to get to you.” He lifts his shirt, and I see scars along his perfect abs, thick and silver. The shape of something that looks like rope.

  He lets his shirt go, and my eyes snap back to his.

  “I tried to get to you. But he didn’t…at some point, he realized who you were. He didn’t get all the way, Sid. Fuck if that’s a consolation, but he didn’t. He must have recognized you because he stopped. He stopped and he hit me again and dragged you away. But I thought I could find you. I didn’t know he was…I never knew he was your brother. I’m so fucking sorry, Sid. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  I don’t move. I’m barely bre
athing. My head is spinning. My mind tries to save me, tries not to think of that night. So I don’t. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to think about it. To think about Jeremiah. His hoodie. About him towering over me. Waiting for me to come to.

  About him taking me to the hotel. Washing me. Scrubbing my skin raw.

  I don’t want to think. I don’t want to be.

  I don’t dare look at him. No one speaks. My brother says nothing.

  I slam my head back, against Mayhem’s chest. He’s a rock wall behind me. “Fucking kill me,” I order Lucifer. I slam my head against Mayhem again.

  Lucifer shakes his head. “No, Sid.” I watch him swallow again, watch him try to pull himself together. “No, Sid. No. Don’t let him win this.”

  I rear my head back again, slamming it into Mayhem. “Someone fucking pull a trigger. You’re Lucifer, after all. Send me back to hell.”

  “Don’t let him win this, Lilith.”

  Something about that name makes me snap. With one last glance at Lucifer, I twist out of Mayhem’s arms. He lets me go. I sidestep Lucifer, and my brother’s eyes are on me. His face is white. Ghostly. At least the parts of it not covered in blood and already starting to bruise. He looks lost. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t move, and neither does Nicolas, Kristof, or Trey, as I make my way to my brother.

  I raise my fist, cock it back, and I punch him as hard as I fucking can in the face.

  His nose crunches under my fist; his head snaps back. When he twists back to look at me, I see tears welling in his eyes, blood dripping from his nose. From his face. His mouth, where Ezra got to him. I don’t know why Ezra snapped, but I don’t have time to think about it. I still hold my fist up. I cock it back again.

  “Sid.” Nicolas’s voice.

  I look to him. He’s still leaned down next to my brother.

  “Did you know?” I ask him quietly, not lowering my arm.

  He looks away, for half a second. And I know.

  My mouth falls open. I lower my arm.

  He knew.

  He had known.

  I look to Kristof, to Trey. They knew too. They had to have fucking known. They knew my own brother nearly raped me, drugged the Unsaints, and then lied to me about it after he kept me prisoner in his hotel.