by Anna Edwards
“And if that mockingbird don’t sing,
Mama’s going to buy you a diamond ring.”
“My mother sang it to me when I couldn’t sleep.” I tell him as the memory of my mother lying on the bed beside me, singing softly, comes to the forefront of my mind. We didn’t have much when I was growing up, just a small room in the attic of the Viscount’s house, but it was all I wanted. I had a mother who loved me, and there was no need for an absent father who never cared about me.
“I’ve not heard it since she sang it the day they took me from her. She was desperate to calm me down. Will you sing it to me when I need you to?”
“Always. You only have to ask.”
William leans forward, and before I have a chance to think, his lips are pressed against mine. His warmth floods through my body, settling the nerves I was feeling, and dissipating the burning sensation of the raw skin on my wrists and neck. I forgive him because I know it’s not his fault. The demons he’s hiding within him will always surface, but there is a trust between us, which gives me hope. I push my body in closer to him and feel his hardness against my hip.
“Take me again.” I say to him, pulling back from our kiss and breathing the words of my desperation into his mouth. He catches them with another kiss and leads us toward his bed. My dressing gown is pushed open, and his hands are on my breasts, cupping the flesh over my gossamer bra. I need rid of my clothes. My skin is sensitive – it feels like I need to climb out of it just to get relief.
“Please,” I wantonly whimper, and William removes my dressing gown from me. Then lowering my bra, he pulls a nipple into his mouth and teases it. I’m writhing under him. Wanting…needing…hoping. Then our eyes meet, and I see terror there in William’s – it damn near rips my heart in two. I push him away when he goes to trail a path of kisses lower down my body.
“Stop,” I tell him, and he regards me in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
I sit up on the bed and wrap my dressing gown around myself. William sits next to me.
“You believe you’re a monster.”
“Tamara, please.”
“You have to believe it’s not true. Tell me what was going on in your head. What made you look so scared?”
“I can’t.”
“Please. Trust me.”
He goes silent, and I see a lone tear tumble down his cheek.
“I’ll kill you,” he finally says.
“What?”
“I’ll forget one day how to be good and will kill you.”
The words slam into my chest like a ton of bricks. I can barely breathe at his revelation because from his perspective, he believes it’s the truth. He can’t see the good man he truly is. This is no way to start a relationship, no matter the attraction between us.
“You can’t do this, can you? Sex with me again?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry. I thought I could. You were singing the song to me that my mother used to. It was beautiful, but I think I need you as a friend more than I do a lover. I’ve barely been free for more than a few months, and everything is alien to me. I’ve never been out to a fast food joint, or been to a club, a pub, or the cinema. Even cars scare the life out of me. All of my knowledge has been learned via television and books. I’m far from normal, and I fear I never will be. I need to find out what this world is about, first. I have to rid it of my father’s evil, help Nicholas establish his place as the leader of the Oakfield Society, and bring the family name into the fresh, pure daylight of a new dawn. I have to repay my brother for all he’s done to help me over the years, and I owe it to Victoria as well. She suffered because Nicholas was protecting me to the point he was torn in two directions, trying to save us both. I’m too consumed by these four walls and the horrors that have occurred within them, at the moment. Starting a relationship with me would only destroy you, and I don’t know if I could have another person’s suffering on my conscience. I’m sorry. As you can see, my dick wants you so badly I don’t think he’s ever going to go back down, but my brain, however fucking mis-wired it is, tells me I need to venture out and discover the world first.
I wipe away the tears that have started falling down my cheeks while William was speaking. They are not tears of remorse at being rejected by him but ones of pride for his bravery.
“Too much, too soon.” I look around the room. “I can’t begin to imagine what it was like being confined within this small space and the room next door for so long. I don’t know what the future holds, but when this is over with the society if you still want me as a physical companion, just let me know. Until then, we are friends, and I’ll help you, Nicholas, and Victoria in any way I can. You have demons you need to slay, and I’ll be there to fight them with you, should you want me at your side. All you have to do is ask.”
I slide from the bed and leaning forward, I press a chaste kiss to William’s cheek.
“Just remember this William Cavendish, Earl of Lullington…you saved my best friend…you saved your brother…and you fought the devil who imprisoned and tortured you for most of your life…and you won. You beat the demon on the outside, now, all you have to do is slay the ones in your mind, and free yourself forever.”
I pull my dressing gown all the way around me and leave William alone with his thoughts. Today has been emotional, to say the least. My body sags with exhaustion the second I get back to my room. Thoughts of my mother’s betrayal, Victoria’s pregnancy, Viscount Hamilton’s continued denial of his part in his daughter’s treatment, and the fight continuously raging inside William’s head, all run through my mind. However, one thought lingers in my head as I shut my eyes to sleep – Father. Nicholas will be a father soon, William’s father mistreated him badly, Victoria’s nearly destroyed her, but I’ve never known my father and maybe it’s time I tried to find out who he is…
Chapter Nine
William
“I can’t believe I’m returning a painting to an art gallery. This just feels so strange.” Nicholas flicks a switch on a technical gadget he’s holding, and all the alarms in the National Gallery in London are switched off. His little piece of wizardry was given to him by Matthew Carter and Ryan North, both MI5 alumni. I’m still amazed my brother was able to get them on side with his plan, but it seems righting wrongs is close to their hearts. We’re both dressed head to toe in black with night vision goggles over our eyes. I’m liking the darkness – it’s a big improvement on the flashing lights I saw, traveling into London. How anyone can sleep in this city when it’s lit up like a Christmas tree almost twenty-four hours a day is beyond me.
“I think it just proves Victoria has you by the balls.” I chuckle at my brother, which earns me a thump on the back. “Hey watch it! Precious cargo in hand. You don’t want me to drop this fifty-million-dollar picture, now, do you?”
“Don’t remind me of the value,” Nicholas growls between gritted teeth. “If I didn’t love my wife so much, I’d be selling this picture on the black market and using the money to wipe out all our enemies. Instead, I’m giving back one of my favorite paintings.”
I hold in my hands an original work of art called ‘Poppies’ by Van Gogh. Nicholas stole it from the Mohamed Mahmoud Kahlil Museum in Cairo eight years ago. It’s small, little more than twenty-five inches by twenty-one inches, but it’s hung in Oakfield’s main hall since the night Nicholas brought it home. My father was proud of him that night. The irony isn’t lost on me. He’s proud of me when I almost kill a woman, and of Nicholas when he steals a famous painting. Why couldn’t he have been like other fathers and been proud of us for cutting our first tooth or saying our first words? No, it could only be when we committed some despicable crime.
“At least she didn’t make me take it back to Cairo. British museums are so much easier to get in and out of.” Nicholas takes the painting from me and places it underneath Van Gogh’s self-portrait.
“Why didn’t she want it back in Cairo?” I question.
“As much as she hates the painting because of the reminder of what it represents, I think she secretly wants to be able to come and see it when she can.” Nicholas strips off the protective film from the painting. He’s wearing special gloves, which won’t leave any traces of a fingerprint.
“Makes sense. You think Cairo will allow it to stay here?”
“Not up to me. That’s for them to fight out amongst themselves. I think the UK might have a bit more sway when it comes to these things, so I’m hoping so.” Nicholas steps back and looks at the picture in its temporary home. “Time ’til the guard comes around?” he asks me, and I look at my watch, which I’d synchronized with the guard’s timings earlier. “Five minutes and twenty-six seconds.”
“Good. Plenty of time. Flick the switch on your glasses and check for fingerprints or DNA.”
I do as he asks, and using a special filter, I can see the picture is clean.
“All good.”
“Ok, let’s get out of here. I’ve got a wife waiting to reward me for being a good husband.”
“Didn’t need to know that, Brother.”
Nicholas laughs, and we leave the museum the same way we entered, via the roof. Nicholas flicks another switch on his superhero gadget, and the alarms are reset.
“The guard is going to get a big shock in about three minutes and ten seconds,” I chuckle. The tension of completing the feat disappears as we make our way back to the Lexus waiting for us with my brother’s driver. Throwing all the equipment in the trunk, we get in the car and remove our black clothing to reveal full dress suits below. The driver pulls away, and we are finally home free. Nicholas straightens his tie and takes out a decanter of brandy from a compartment in the car.
“Drink?” he offers.
“A small one.” I tug at the neck tie, hating the fact he chose this as a disguise. We were both at a function in nearby Kensington, tonight. I hated every minute of being the sociable Earl, but it was a necessary ruse as an essential part of our plan to return the picture. Providing us with an alibi should we be questioned. Nicholas made sure we were ‘seen’ even when we weren’t there. I didn’t ask because I’m reluctant to know the full extent of his abilities for subterfuge. My father trained him well.
I settle back in the car for the return journey to Oakfield Hall on the outskirts of the city. Shutting my eyes, I bring the amber nectar to my lips and allow it to burn down my throat with its velvety comfort.
I turn to face Nicholas who’s checking his mobile with a look of worry on his face. I know instantly it’s not because of our breaking and entering escapade. It’s the look he gets when he’s worried about his wife. “Is Victoria alright?”
“She’s still feeling a little sick. Tamara prepared her a ginger tea earlier, which seemed to settle her stomach a bit.”
“It must be hard seeing her feel so ill and knowing you not only caused it, but there’s little you can do to help her until she’s over the three-month mark.”
“The consequences of not covering our dicks,” my brother laments. “It’s not us who suffer.”
“I don’t know. I think you’re suffering as well. Well, you will when she gives birth. Victoria is strong, and she’s going to give you hell.” I can’t help but laugh at my brother’s impending doom. Victoria will curse him out like a sailor during labor, and if he doesn’t end up with a broken hand, I’ll be surprised. He’s going to suffer, and then he gets to be a father and change stinky diapers. I can’t help sniggering.
“I wouldn’t laugh at me too much, little brother.”
“Yeah, not going to happen to me.” I sit back smugly and bring the brandy to my lips.
“So, the screaming I heard coming from Tamara’s room had nothing to do with you?”
“What?” I spit my brandy out over the chair in front of me. “You heard? Does Victoria know? Is she going to kill me?”
“Why would she kill you?” Nicholas frowns. “She’s happy. She’d love having Tamara as her sister-in-law. She’s seen the attraction between you both since the moment you first met. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s overly sung your praises to Tamara for matchmaking purposes.”
“It won’t happen,” I reply bluntly. Nicholas puts his brandy down and turns to face me. I won’t look at him, though. If I need to, I’ll shut my eyes, so I don’t have to look directly into his. My fingers are itching to tap or swipe – to start their comforting routine. Nicholas reaches over and takes the brandy from my hand. I instantly bring my hand up to my ear and swipe across it then through my hair. One, two taps on the floor with my foot, and I’m already feeling calmer, but I know Nicholas isn’t going to stop his questioning.
“William, you slept with Tamara?” he questions.
“Yes.”
My brother pauses, and I know he’s trying to find the right words for what he wants to say next.
“Did you hurt her?”
I want to say no – to tell him she enjoyed it as much as I did because her tight little pussy milked me so much I was seeing fucking stars.
“I think so.” Is the only answer I can give. My hands do their routine again.
“How did you hurt her?”
“She’s got a bruised neck and rope burns on her wrists.”
“Shit!” my brother exclaims. “What did she say? After? During? Did she ask you to stop?”
I think back through the entire time we were together. She pleaded and pleaded with me for more. She never once asked me to stop.
“No. She says I’m not a monster.”
“She liked it rough?” my brother questions with an element of shock in his voice. He knows what I like. He’s seen the girls who’ve left my room after I’ve finished with them.
“I…don’t know,” I stammer. I want to hide away, now. I don’t want to continue this conversation. It’s too confusing for me. My mind hurts… my head hurts. Too much.
We pull up the long driveway to the house, and before the car stops, I’m out and running up to my rooms. Nicholas is after me, and I pass Victoria and Tamara on the stairs. They look at me in confusion, but I don’t stop – I need to get to my safe place. My sanctuary. The only place I know I can be me and won’t be judged. Behind me, I hear Victoria call to Nicholas.
“Nicholas what’s wrong?”
“Give me a few minutes,” he replies as his footsteps follow me up the stairs.
I enter my rooms and push the door shut, but I’m not quick enough to lock it before Nicholas uses his strength to force it open. I start to pace the room, and Nicholas tries to pull me to a halt and get me to look at him, but I shove him away.
“William, listen to me. It’s alright. Tamara is fine. If she didn’t tell you to stop, then you did nothing wrong.”
“I strangled her.”
“It can be a part of sex, not all the time, but some people do like it. It doesn’t mean you’re like him.”
We both freeze. The truth of the matter hits us both hard. It’s what we both fear. Have I been so damaged that I’m just the same as our father? Nicholas feared it about himself for so long until Victoria helped him to recognize he’s his own man. But I can’t see that. All I see when I look in the mirror is my father’s reflection staring back out at me. He created the person I am. The freak who pointed a gun at his own father’s head and pulled the trigger. I killed my father, and I don’t have any regrets. No, if I had the chance, I’d do it again. Only next time, I’d make it more painful.
“William?” My brother tries to reach out to touch me, but I push him away.
“You need to leave, Nicholas. Go be with your wife. Protect her and love her. Keep the darkness from consuming you. She’s the key to you staying on the right side.”
“Tamara could be yours,” my brother immediately fires back.
“Monsters don’t fall in love. They exist only to destroy. Tamara’s too innocent to be allowed on my path. I’ll drag her down with me to hell.”
“William, you have to listen to me.”
Picking up a chair, I slam it into the wall beside me. It disintegrates into little pieces of splintered wood. Next comes a chest of drawers. With inhuman strength, I send them flying. Trinkets and pictures smash on the floor.
I’m vaguely aware of Victoria running into the room. She hands something to Nicholas – the only method of subduing the overstimulation and breakdown in me. I stop and stand still waiting for the sharp prick of the hypodermic in my neck, and when it comes, the numbing drugs flow into my body. Before the darkness of a sedated sleep claims me, I look up to see Tamara, standing at the doorway. Her eyes are full of the one thing I never wanted to see in them: sorrow. Despair for what I am, and what I can be.
Chapter Ten
Tamara
“I’m never getting pregnant if this is what it does to you.” I hold back Victoria’s hair as she dry heaves into the toilet. She’s been running back and forth to the bathroom for the last half an hour, but nothing has come up. It’s early in the morning, a little after five am, and I spent last night sleeping in the same bed as her. She hates to sleep alone since her ordeal, and Nicholas wanted to stay with his brother to check on him when he woke. It wasn’t exactly how I imagined I’d be waking up this morning, but at least it’s giving me a distraction from worrying about William. I can see he’s falling apart even further, and a feeling of guilt weighs heavy within me. A fear that I’m to blame because I pushed him into having sex with me, and it made him confront a side of himself he’s hidden away and managed to control for so long. Rubbing Victoria’s back and whispering words of encouragement to her as she fights her morning sickness, helps me to push the culpability aside, for now.