by J. L. Beck
My body trembles and it dawns on me then that this man plans to skin me like a fish. Glancing up at him our eyes meet. His are darker than black, how that’s possible, I don’t know. A shiver runs down my spine, the evil inside him pouring out and into the room, wrapping around my throat, suffocating the good. He brings the knife to my shoulder, the blade barely grazing my skin. I can’t help it. I’m so terrified that I start to shake uncontrollably. Tears well in my eyes and I drop my gaze down to my lap, refusing to let Wes see how scared I am. I have to hide my emotions, the fear, the pain. I need to mask it, or they’ll use me against him, against all three of them.
“Stop!” Wes yells. “What do you want to know?” His voice trembles, giving away his fear.
The giant laughs so hard I think he might drop the knife. He laughs like a serious laugh, like somehow Wes’s fear for my safety is funny, the funniest thing he’s ever seen.
“Are you kidding me? This might be my new record.” And just as quickly as his laugh filled them, it is gone, the grim look on his face is back, and a little bit scarier than last time.
“See, the problem is, I was really looking forward to doing this, so I’m taking a few slices of her skin off anyway, just for good measure. I’m sure you’ll understand,” he chuckles, like the fucked up bastard he is before bringing the knife back to my shoulder.
Oh god. Sucking in a greedy breath, I let the air fill my lungs while I squeeze my eyes shut at the same time. Don’t cry. Stay strong. I keep telling myself. I try and remove myself mentally from the situation, but I’m not prepared for what comes next.
The cold metal of the blade touches my skin, and then without warning, it slices into my flesh like it’s hot butter. It feels like I’m being burned, the blade cutting through tissue, as pain lances across my shoulder.
“Stop, please stop. Hurt me. Just…stop…” Wes’s voice cuts off, raw emotion pouring out of him. I clench my teeth together, my jaw aching with the effort as I will myself not to scream, ignoring the cry of pain lodged in my throat. I refuse to open my eyes, to see the bastard’s smile, to see the tears I know are in Wes’s eyes.
Pressure is applied to the edge of the blade, and it slices deeper, the pain intensifying until it becomes all-consuming and I can no longer hold it in. An agonizing cry rips from my chest and echoes through the small room. I sob, feeling the warm blood seep into my shirt, rivulets of blood dripping down my chest. My nails dig into my palm and I wish the pain would stop.
And to my utter shock, the knife disappears, the blade is no longer touching my skin and the pain lessens with the loss of contact. I try to rationalize what is going on, but in my mind, I cannot come up with anything. I open my eyes and look up, confused. What’s going on? Have I passed out? Is this a dream?
Two large bodies dressed in all black move with lightning speed through the room. A shot is fired, the deafening sound of it in such a small space, making my ears ring. Another body drops to the floor. There’s a pounding that starts to form behind my eyes, my head throbbing along with my shoulder, the ache pulsing in sync with my erratic heartbeat.
Within seconds, I feel hands on me. I jerk away on instinct, but then I realize that said hands are warm and gentle, not rough and cruel. I try and focus on the person crouching beside me, cutting through the cable ties that were keeping me attached to the chair.
We’re being rescued, or are we?
“Are you okay?” A familiar voice finally gets through to me, cutting through the terror-filled fog clinging to my mind.
“Trey?” I croak as his green eyes come into view.
“We’re here. You’re going to be fine, Princess,” Trey assures me, even though I don’t feel like I’m going to be fine.
Looking straight ahead I watch as Declan frees Wes from his chair. My eyes move to the ground, the evil man’s body lays in a heap on the floor, a bullet right between his eyes. Relief washes over me at the sight, and I release a ragged sob. They found us, they really found us. I don’t know how they did it, but I don’t care. They are here now. We’re all alive. Everything is going to be okay. It has to be.
Trey wraps his arm around me and pulls me off the chair. My shoulder throbs at the contact, and I grit my teeth, holding back a wince.
“We need to get out of here, before more men are sent in, or someone finds us.”
“Okay,” I manage to say as Trey pushes me into Wes’s arms. Declan leads the way, Wes and I follow him closely, and Trey covers us from behind. Both of them have their weapons drawn, and Wes shields me with his body while moving us along.
“Are you okay?” Wes asks in a low voice, as we move quickly. I know he’s worried, and parts of me are too. We could’ve died. I’ve never been more sure of it in my life and the realization of it weighs heavily on my heart. This was my father’s doing. These were men he hired, men he told to watch us.
His intent for death had never been more clear and now I felt a need to get even. Before when he shot Declan, it wasn’t as big of an ordeal. I felt to blame then, but this time I wasn’t to blame. This time the intent was clear.
“Yes, I think…” I tell him, but honestly, I don’t know. I’m feeling a bit numb right now. Glancing down at the cut on my shoulder, it looks nasty, blood seeps from the wound, the gash crooked, and probably needing some stitches. Christ… the wound hurts, but right now it’s nothing more than a low throb, a dull ache in comparison to what it could have been had Declan and Trey not gotten there when they did.
I’m not stupid. I know I should be terrified right now, huddling in the corner and curling in on myself, but all I can think of is how we aren’t dead and how the guys saved me, protected me.
My feet move on their own, following Declan’s every step. We move up two flights of stairs and down a long corridor. Sunlight filters in from what looks to have been a door at one point and time. I step out of the building, sucking in a greedy breath of fresh air. A light wind blows, sending my hair into my face, and I’ve never been happier feeling the air and the sun on my skin. Wes’s arms never loosen their hold on me, not even as we walk around the building and down an alleyway.
With a fast walking speed, we make it to a car, one that I had seen in the parking garage just this morning. Declan gets into the back with me, ushering me inside gently, while Trey gets into the driver’s seat, and Wes climbs into the passenger seat.
“I think we got lucky. No one saw us leaving. We killed everyone on sight,” Trey says as he starts the car and we drive away.
“They didn’t expect us to find you,” Declan says next to me while holding onto my arm and inspecting the wound.
“Well, they thought fucking wrong.” Wes’s voice is hostile, deep, and dark. “I want him fucking dead. I want to bury his entire organization. I want every single one of those corrupt fuckers to pay.” His fist comes down slamming into the dashboard with brute force. I don’t even jump at the contact or his outburst of rage. I understand how he’s feeling, because I’m feeling the same way. Weeks ago, I hadn’t believed them, didn’t want to. I wholeheartedly expected my father to come to my rescue and when he didn’t it… well, it more than stung. But he didn’t want me. I was trash in his eyes. Broken.
“He’ll die, brother. He’ll pay for everything he did,” Trey tries to soothe Wes but I can tell he’s barely restraining himself. He looks like Hulk, seconds away from exploding into a green giant.
“She’s going to need some stitches. The bastard got her good,” Declan says, more to his brothers than to me. I feel his hot breath against my cheek and I turn in his hold to see his face. His brown eyes drink me in, they’re soft, softer than I’ve ever seen them before.
“I was...when I saw the blood, I was afraid we had gotten there too late.”
His confession is startling, and not because I don’t expect him to feel the way he’s feeling but because he’s never been this open with how he feels before.
“I’ll live,” I smile. “It’s just a little cut. Nothing a couple st
itches can’t fix, right?” I try and make light of the situation, but Declan shakes his head, his hand reaching for me, cupping my cheek gently. His touch comforts me and I want to lean into it, but before I do, he does something he’s never done before, he leans in and kisses me. His warm lips mold to mine perfectly and shit, color me shocked.
His lips are soft and careful, the complete opposite of everything I’ve come to know about him. I’m stunned and amazed all at once. I didn’t think Declan was capable of being tender, or kind. I melt into his touch, wanting to be closer to him, closer than I already am. The kind of close that involves no clothing. I crawl onto his lap and he welcomes me with open arms, pulling me into his strong, big body, holding me to his chest as tightly as he can without crushing me, all while keeping his lips against mine.
He savors me, drinking from my lips like I’m a fine wine. His tongue probes against my bottom lip, and I open for him letting our tongues tango for a long moment. He tastes like chocolate and smells like sin. I want to let him have his way with me. I want to let him devour me but before I can make good on the thought two throats clear, and Declan pulls away, a shit-eating grin on his lips.
“Save us some, asshole,” Trey grumbles.
“I’ve got a special orgasm for you, Princess, to make up for the pain that you went through today.” Wes’s gaze bleeds into mine, and I nod, biting into my swollen bottom lip. It’s insane how attracted I am to these men, how much I yearn for them, their touch, both gentle and rough. It’s like we were all made for each other.
“I love you,” I whisper, the words just slip out. I didn’t even know I was going to say them until they were already hanging in the air. I freeze for a second, regretting that I said them, not because I didn’t mean them, but because a part of me is still scared of being rejected. What if my admission pushes them away? What if they don’t love me back? What if I just confessed something that changes everything and not for the better?
Wes, who was already looking at me, just continues to stare back at me. I think he is just as shocked as I am at the words. But he doesn’t look angry, which is far better than I expected. Declan reaches out for me, making me turn back to look at him, and just like a few seconds ago, the words just float out again.
“I love you,” I say, looking straight at Declan this time.
He lifts his arms and takes my face between both of his hands.
“When we get home, we’re going to show you just how much we love you too. How much you’re ours and how much we are yours.”
And just like that, all is right in the world again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Declan
“Are you sure about this?” I ask her for the fifth time.
“Yes, I want to help you get to my dad,” Jessa says with nothing but conviction in her voice. “He doesn’t deserve my loyalty, and I know the world will be better off without him in it.”
I still can’t believe she’s agreeing to this. She hasn’t even seen the videos and she still doesn’t know her father was responsible for her mother’s death. I’ve thought about telling her so many times, but always pulled back at the last minute. Telling her won’t change anything, not now, now it will only drive the knife of pain deeper, and if there’s one thing I can’t bear, it’s seeing her hurt more at the hands of that bastard.
She hides it well, but I’m the king at masking my emotions, and I can see it in her eyes every time her father is mentioned. She’s hurt deeply by her his betrayal. He might be an evil fucking murderer, but until we came along, he was the only family she had.
As fate would have it, we only had each other, and then we found her.
It seems the stars aligned perfectly the moment I realized hurting her wouldn’t make the ache in my chest go away. There was only one way to curb the real need for vengeance, and that was by killing the man responsible for my pain.
“I’m not sure how to help you though,” she admits. “I’ve never had access to any of his security codes, and even if I had, I’m pretty sure he changed them frequently. The house is always guarded heavily when he is home and his office is even worse.” She sighs.
“What about places he goes? Does he go to any restaurants, or have any hobbies no one knows about?”
She taps her chin as if she’s thinking, and it’s quite fucking cute. “He doesn’t have any hobbies that I know of and he rarely goes anywhere else besides work. I guess the only other places he would go are work-obligated places, like an event, or a gala. He’s all about keeping up appearances.”
Of course he is. He’s got to make sure the world sees him as some great fucking man, instead of the murder he really is.
“Is there anything coming up that you know of?” I question, trying not to sound overly pushy. The last thing I want is for her to feel like she’s being forced to help us. It wouldn’t matter if she did or not. She’s earned her keep and paid her dues when it comes to being our equal.
She nibbles on her bottom lip and I can see her eyes narrowing as she focuses on a spot on the wall behind me. A second later her mouth opens. “There is a gala the weekend before Easter that he goes to every year…I’m usually there too. It’s always at the same venue. They don’t usually have it heavily guarded since it’s a church fundraiser, and well, people wouldn’t dare attack someone in such a holy place.”
I grin. “When you say people, you don’t mean us I’m assuming, because holy place or not he’s going down.”
“No, I meant, like he wouldn’t expect it. He probably knows you guys are bugging his phones and emails, watching his events and such, but if I know my father, he won’t expect you to make a scene since he wants all of this to stay hush, hush.”
I get it, if it ever broke out to the media the things he’s done, his career and high society life would be over and replaced with a ten by ten cell. But the justice system could never do the job we will. He’s earned a bullet to his head a thousand times over, and I refuse to make it so that he can sit in a prison cell and get three hot meals a day. The fucker doesn’t get to live, not after killing my family and kidnapping Wes and Jessa.
“What’s going on in here?” Trey walks into my bedroom, falling down onto the bed like it’s his. His eyes move over Jessa slowly before colliding with mine.
“Jessa is helping us. I’m going to need you to put together a plan of attack,” I tell Trey, who reaches out and tugs on a piece of Jessa’s blonde hair.
“Listen to your brother,” Jessa mumbles and bats his hand away, her cheeks turning a soft pink. She’s still not used to being able to say and do what she wants. Trey grins at her, pressing a hand to his chest.
“You wound me, Princess.”
“Oh stop.” She shoves at his chest and he winks at her. The interaction is one I’ve come to know very well. Trey is the flirter. Wes the softie, he bends to Jessa’s will. And me, I’m the protector. I protect her, against everyone and everything, but myself and my brothers.
“What kind of attack? Where at?” Trey finally asks.
“Gala. Her father. Right after Easter. It takes place at St. Mary’s Church, right?” I direct my question to Jessa.
“Yes, there shouldn’t be as many men guarding the place so it would be the perfect time to get in and out.”
Trey’s mouth pops open as if he’s shocked. “We’re going to attack him at a church on Easter weekend?”
I grin slyly. “Yes, he’ll never see it coming. He’s expecting an attack, but he doesn’t think we’ll ever do something so publicly. It’s the perfect time and place.”
“Did someone say world domination?” Wes walks into my bedroom a second later with a bag of chips in his hand. That fucker is always eating, and when he isn’t, he’s complaining about eating.
“Yes, we’re coming up with a plan to kidnap Jessa’s father. Trey’s going to get the entire thing together, and then we will make our grand appearance.”
“Great,” Wes growls, and I can see the guilt and shame still in his
eyes. It’s as clear as day to me. Watching Jessa get cut by that fucking psycho killed him, it ripped him to pieces, and I understand why. He loves her, he loves her with his entire heart, just as Trey and I do.
Trey leans forward and presses a kiss to Jessa’s lips. A soft whimper slips past those plump pink lips, and my cock hardens instantly.
“Do you want us, Princess? You want our cocks?” Trey asks, pulling away a smidge.
Jessa nods her head and opens her mouth to speak, “I do want you...but I…” Her cheeks turn a darker pink and I swear it looks as if she’s embarrassed or something.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I... I have my…” She tiptoes around whatever she’s going to say before finishing, “I have my period,” she finally says.
Trey, Wes, and I all exchange a look. Blood is blood. It means nothing to us, and she has no reason to be embarrassed because she has her period.
“That’s fine, blood doesn’t bother us,” Wes murmurs. “Unless you don’t want to, which we will of course understand.”
“You know that we won’t push you to do anything, right? If you don’t want to, then you can say no,” I assure her, my eyes piercing her deep blue ones.
A look of indifference crosses her face. “I... it’s not that. I just think we need to establish birth control, and figure out that stuff first.”
Well fuck, I never thought about that. Usually, I’m the level headed one of us three, but with Jessa, it seems I lose my head left and right.
“Shit.” Trey exhales, pulling away. “We’re so fucking stupid. We could’ve gotten her pregnant with all the fucking without a condom we’ve done.”
We could’ve, but we didn’t. I don’t know how I feel about Jessa pregnant with mine and my brother’s baby or babies for that matter. Obviously it’s something she’ll want some day.
“Do you…do you guys want kids, you know…eventually?” she asks innocently, her eyes moving over each one of us.