Exhaustion took me at some point. I woke up and saw that the faintest hint of daylight had started to push through the windows. I had been with them for the entire night. My father had to be going out of his mind. I rolled over on my back and stared at the ceiling. I had slept on my shoulder and my hands were numb, but once I repositioned myself, the feeling started to return. I laid there for several minutes and then I looked down at my feet. Rourke had taken the ropes off of them before he fucked me. There was nothing to stop me from running. I shifted until I was on my feet and looked out the window.
We’re in the woods. That’s all I can see in every direction. Even if I could get away, I wouldn’t know where to go.
I wasn’t sure that taking my chances in the woods with my hands tied behind my back was a better option than remaining in the cabin. I did have one small element of power—they wanted something from me. Rourke and Brody were using me to satisfy their lust, but that wasn’t all it was about. I asked Rourke to run away with me and he declined—he didn’t want to spend his life looking over his shoulder. The only way he could be exonerated was with my help. Killing me might make the case against them more complicated, but they would still go to trial. The escape wasn’t going to look very good, and it didn’t seem like it would be very hard to pin my kidnapping on them—possibly even my murder if they ever found my body.
Rourke’s too smart to kill me. Brody might be a monster that wants to slit my throat to make me go away, but Rourke’s very calculated. Everything he does—he does it with precision.
It was the first time I had really gotten a chance to think since I had been taken, but the picture was starting to become a little clearer. Rourke wanted me to turn on my father. That was how he got the freedom he was really after. My testimony could give him a clean slate and put the man who actually killed John behind bars. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t testify against my father. It went against everything I knew—it violated the Prescott family motto. Sending Rourke and Brody to prison was the only choice I had, and it was the hardest one I ever had to make. I put my faith in my father—but what if he lied to me? Did that really change things? I was still Anabelle Prescott—and Prescott’s put family first. Regretting my decision—hating myself for it—that didn’t change who I was.
“Sometimes I wonder if you ever really loved me.” I heard Rourke’s voice and slowly turned to face him.
I did—maybe I still do. You just don’t understand why I had to choose family over love.
“You walked into my life and put a lit match in the center of my world—you made me believe that I was more than just some South Side thug.” He walked over and grabbed the gag, pulling it out of my mouth with a quick tug.
“You were…” I exhaled sharply. “I saw the man you really wanted to be.”
“Maybe, but that’s not the man you let me become.” He shook his head back and forth. “You tried to bring me into your world—and you should have known there was no place in it for me.”
“My father…” I looked down at the floor. “He told me that he wouldn’t stand in the way of our relationship if I got you to help him with his problem. John wasn’t supposed to die.”
“Do you really think your father wrestled the gun out of John’s hands and killed him in self-defense?” Rourke tilted his head to the side.
“That’s what he told me…” I nodded. “Why wouldn’t I believe him?”
It’s not like I had a chance to figure out the plausibility of that scenario before the cops showed up.
“A few days before you called me, your father summoned me to Prescott Manor. He offered me one million dollars to end things with you.” Rourke’s jaw tightened. “I refused.”
“Oh my god…” I blinked in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to—the next time we were together. But then you called and asked for my help.” He growled under his breath.
Was this—worse than a lie? Did my father set this whole thing up to get rid of Rourke?
“Rourke—I…” I swallowed hard.
“I don’t want you to say anything, princess. I don’t need another speech about the Prescott family motto.” He grabbed the gag and yanked it back up into my mouth. “Just think about that for a little bit while you’re face down on the mattress giving me what your father wanted to trade for a fucking alliance.”
Rourke grabbed me by the arm and shoved me toward the mattress. I lost my footing and all I could do was turn my body slightly so that I would take the impact on my shoulder instead of my face. At least the mattress was softer than the floor. Rourke was on top of me immediately, pushing his pants down as he pulled my hips up so that I was on my knees, so he could take me from behind. Then he was inside me—thrusting. I wasn’t even wet, but he didn’t care if he hurt me—not anymore. He put one hand on the back of my neck and pushed me into the mattress while the other squeezed my thigh—keeping me in position so he could take what he wanted. I wouldn’t have resisted him, even if I wasn’t tied up.
My father offered Rourke a million dollars—a million dollars to go away—and he still came when I called him.
He had to know he could be walking into a trap. Was that what it really was? An elaborate trap by my father to get rid of Rourke and John at the same time. What about Brody? Did my father know about him too? He told me to have Rourke bring a friend in case things got out of hand.
Perhaps my father knew everything.
Perhaps it was a trap for me too.
Rourke hammered his cock into me, and even though I was lost in my own thoughts, I couldn’t stop his thrusts from igniting a fuse inside my body. I still craved him—his dominance—his furious passion. I wanted to call him Master and beg for more. I wanted him to hurt me—to bring me to that beautiful place where pain and pleasure collided in bliss. That was all I ever wanted once he gave me a taste of it—but I didn’t want it bad enough to forget who I was. I wasn’t strong enough. Our love couldn’t break my ties with my family.
But it should have—if I truly loved Rourke, I should have put him before everything.
I felt the pressure inside me starting to build. Rourke was going to make me come. I loved the way he used to do it—the way he kept going until I erupted in bliss so many times, I barely remembered my own name. The pressure built as the thrusts got faster. I started to moan, biting down on my gag as the impending bliss sent me spiraling towards the edge of ultimate pleasure. Rourke started to throb inside me. He was about to erupt. I tried to move my ass, meet his thrusts as they were hammered into me, but his grip was too strong. His thrusts became erratic and his cock pulsated. The pressure started to release—I screamed with pleasure as I began to orgasm. A second later, I felt the spasms in my pussy pull him over the edge—then he was erupting inside me.
“Oh god.” He grunted and let out a growl.
He pulled his cock out of me once he was finished. He didn’t even wait for the spasms to fully die down or the orgasm to finish. He removed his hand from the back of my neck and started to stand up. I fell to my side and looked at him—trying to say things with my eyes that my lips couldn’t. I was sorry. I was blind to what was directly in front of me the night my father asked for my help. Still, I didn’t know that my ultimate choice would have been any different. I wished I could believe otherwise, but even if my father betrayed me, I was still his daughter. I was still a Prescott. Why couldn’t I break through that barrier in my mind? Why couldn’t I stare love in the face and trust in it more than I trusted in a man that lied to me?
“Brody will be awake soon.” Rourke lit a cigarette and looked down at me. “I’m sure he’s going to want to hurt you again.”
It’s not like I could stop him, even if I wanted to.
“If you scream for him, he might make it quick.” Rourke shrugged and turned away.
Was that—kindness?
Rourke left the room and I was alone in the bed—contemplating my life and everything that brought me to that moment. I wasn’t go
ing to scream for Brody just to ease my suffering. I wanted every bit of the monster inside of him—the violence that I deserved. He never needed an implement to cause me misery once I learned to enjoy it. His hand did all the work—he spanked me until I had tears in my eyes, choked me until I thought I was going to pass out and pinched my nipples until there were marks that turned into bruises. Yet I learned to love that as much as I loved the slow torment Rourke put me through—every second of that pain meant to make my lust grow—grow to the point that I didn’t think I could ever stop coming once he was inside me.
If only I could have learned to love the man as much as I loved the torment. Maybe then I would have been strong enough to endure the emotional scars that betraying my father would have left behind.
I was lost in my thoughts for an hour before Brody came for me with malice in his eyes. It was that malice that never allowed me to love him the same way that I loved Rourke. I wasn’t sure there was any way for him to love—he just chased pleasure. He was chaos in the midst of bliss when the three of us were together. But after a year, I felt like my connection to his malice had become stronger than the love I once had for Rourke. Rourke didn’t want to punish me—he didn’t think I deserved it. Brody didn’t care if I deserved it or not—he just wanted to get off on my pain. I screamed for him—my words getting tangled in the gag that kept me from truly saying anything.
Then he was done. His lust dripped from my ass once it had been ravaged for the second time since I was taken by them.
It was my fate—until I gave in to whichever side of my darkness was going to win.
Brody
Two years ago
“I found your girlfriend.” I slid into the backseat of Josef Weber’s car and tossed the flash drive to him.
“The information is on this?” He caught it. “I guess you learned how to use a computer?”
“Yeah—look at you, teaching me how to be all sophisticated and shit,” I grunted and shrugged. “Do you have my money?”
“Yes.” Weber opened his jacket and handed me an envelope. “I have a feeling that we’ll be doing business again—since I’m keeping your secret and all.”
“Don’t threaten me.” I felt my jaw tighten. “That might work on those North Side pricks you do business with, but that’s not how things work in the South Side. I could snap your neck before you could even wrap your fingers around that pearl-handled nine under your jacket.”
“Adrian Prescott is a very powerful man and a dangerous one.” Weber nodded, ignoring the fact that I just explained how easily he could die if I wanted him too. “You might have balls bigger than anyone that I’ve met—but they can still be chopped off and fed to you—remember that the next time you open your door.”
“I’m not scared of Adrian Prescott.” I shook my head back and forth. “I don’t know why I have to keep telling people that.”
“It’s not about fear, Mr. Knight.” Weber chuckled under his breath. “It’s about power. You sit down here in the South Side where I’m sure you have a lot of power—brute strength goes a long way when you surround yourself with thugs—but in my world? That won’t get you anywhere.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t want to live in your world.” I squeezed the envelope and held it up. “This is all I need right here—it’s more than enough power in my world.”
“The one thing that connects our two worlds.” He chuckled. “Until next time, Mr. Knight.”
“Yeah,” I smirked. “Just make sure you bring more of the power I care about when you come.”
I slid out of the car and slammed the door. I knew Weber was a scumbag. A North Side prick didn’t come to the South Side unless he needed some dirty work done. The woman he asked me to find appeared to be well off—probably someone he couldn’t ask one of the people on his payroll to find because he needed it to be a secret. I didn’t care, as long as I got paid. Hannah Clark didn’t want to be found—that was for damn sure. She lived off the grid, but luckily that’s the only place I knew where to look.
“You keep this up and you’ll be out of the South Side in no time—just like me.” Reggie adjusted his tie and grinned as I walked past him.
“You like it up there?” I turned back towards him. “How does it feel to put on a suit and pretend you didn’t grow up two blocks from here?”
“Pretty damn good, Brody.” He nodded, and his grin got wider. “I just got married to a nice girl from the North Side.”
“Congratulations.” I nodded and smiled. “Good for you.”
“You might get a girl like that, once you have some money in your pocket.” He started walking around the driver side of Weber’s car.
“No, I don’t think so.” I shook my head back and forth.
I’m pretty happy with what I got—even if I’m not sure how long it’s going to last.
I hated doing jobs for Weber, but the money was good. I was a damn walking cliché—a South Side thug willing to be bought by a North Side prick when they didn’t want to get their hands dirty, but fuck it. Selling out to a North Side prick was better than working for Jacob Durst. That might have been good enough for Rourke, but it wasn’t the life I wanted. Mainly because I knew I would be too fucking tempted if he put some money on the table next to a gun and told me where to point it. Rourke was able to resist that kind of shit—I wasn’t sure I could.
Reggie knew I was the kind of guy Weber was looking for when he made the introduction. He didn’t want people dead, he just wanted skulls cracked. Tracking down Hannah Clark was the first job he had given me that didn’t involve any violence. In the back of mind, I felt like it was more than a job—I was pretty sure it was a test. Reggie got his start with Weber the same way I did, handing out beatings to people who didn’t like the investment advice Weber gave them. Rich people sure seemed to get offended by the strangest things.
Whatever. At least he didn’t ask me to lay fists on Hannah Clark. I might enjoy roughing a girl up when she likes it in the bedroom, but that’s about as far as it goes.
Present day
“I forgot how good it is to wake up and have a nice tight spot for my morning wood.” I lit a cigarette and chuckled as I walked into the living room of the cabin. “We never got that with her before—she always had to run back to daddy dearest before the clock struck midnight.”
“Yeah.” Rourke looked up at me and nodded. “I finally got the television to work. We’re all over the fucking news now.”
“Man, they love running that North and South shit—you’d think Chicago was a fucking battleground with the way they over-dramatize everything.” I sat down in the chair across from Rourke with a hard thud.
“That’s the way it goes.” Rourke shrugged. “If we were accused of killing someone on the South Side or if we were from the North Side, it would just be another day in paradise.”
“I’m sure Adrian Prescott knew that.” I exhaled smoke and tapped ashes from the tip of my cigarette. “He knew the press would bury us before we could get a fair trial—especially if his princess was the star witness.”
“Unfortunately…” Rourke nodded. “They mentioned Josef Weber in the news story I saw a few minutes ago.”
Oh shit.
“Really?” I tensed up.
“They didn’t pin it on us.” Rourke leaned back in his chair. “The investigation is ongoing—whatever that means.”
“I’m sure that means that the power surge took out the security cameras and they don’t have any footage. There was too much commotion for anyone to have seen me—I made sure of that.” I nodded quickly.
“I saw you,” Rourke growled under his breath. “The money is nice, and we might need it if we don’t find a way to get Anabelle to change her testimony, but man—why? I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get about a million dollars?” I narrowed my eyes. “I have no intention of going back to jail or letting a jury of my fucking peers pass judgment on me. If we don’t get this shit straight wit
h Anabelle and you don’t want me to kill her, then I’m headed for the border. I’ll spend the rest of my days doing tequila shots while I’m balls deep in a Mexican whore.”
I really can’t tell Rourke the truth about Weber. He wouldn’t understand.
“You’ve changed man.” Rourke’s jaw tightened.
“Being locked up for a year will do that to someone—I don’t know how it didn’t change you.” I pushed back from the table and stood. “We should be fighting to see which one of us gets to pull the knife across Anabelle’s throat—she fucked us over!”
I should have known you wouldn’t have the balls to hurt her—not the way she deserves.
There was a time when taking a life meant something to me—before I saw how little it meant to selfish pricks like Josef Weber and Adrian Prescott. They didn’t need a knife or a gun to kill someone. They could make someone wish they were dead and leave their soul to rot. That’s certainly how I felt when Anabelle betrayed us. I might not have loved her, but I still trusted her—I believed in what she had with Rourke. If Rourke would have told me about the meeting he had with Adrian Prescott, I would have never gone with him when Anabelle called. Then again, we both had secrets.
I ate the food we bought before we came to the cabin and poured myself a drink. I didn’t care that it wasn’t even noon. It had been a long time since I had been able to get drunk in the AM, and if we got caught, I’d never have another good buzz. We wouldn’t go back to jail—they’d put us in maximum security and drive us to the courtroom in chains every day. The only reason we weren’t there already was because it was more convenient with the trial coming up.
Rourke went outside, and I sat down in front of the television. We weren’t able to get any channels except the local stations, which meant they were talking about us, no matter how many times I hit the remote. One of the channels was talking about Weber, so I tossed the remote down and lit a cigarette.
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