The Bastard Prince (Crellids Book 1)

by Chloe Walsh

  I watched as a red line appeared on his tongue, mirroring the line of blood on mine.

  "Now," his father ordered. "Do it now, my bastard prince. Claim your whore."

  Like a wild animal, cornered and wounded, Trigger Laperro released a pained snarl and dragged my face to his. "Te vengaré, mi reina."

  I will avenge you, my queen…

  "I swear it," he vowed, and then he thrust his tongue into my mouth, sealing our fates. Binding our souls together in this twisted world of corruption and pain.

  4

  "Hola, Trigger Laperro," I announced, lowering myself onto the step beside him, proud of myself for memorizing the words I had been practicing. "Mi nombre es Ashton," I added, setting my dictionary down on the dusty step, keeping the page with all my notes open.

  I wasn’t supposed to be out here, but the moment I spotted him from my bedroom window, I'd thrown caution to the wind and hurried outside.

  I hadn't even thought twice about it.

  I needed to be near him.

  I was dangerously intrigued by this wild and feral boy.

  Tensing, Trigger cast a quick glance in my direction before loosely hooking his tanned arms around his knees and turning back to glower at the door of the building on the other side of the courtyard.

  He'd been locked away in the underground cages for the past twenty-three days. Ever since he dismembered his brother and placed that dagger into my hands. When the doctors were unable to save Vasily, I presumed Trigger’s punishment intensified.

  He had missed Vasily's funeral – and several meals by the look of his much leaner frame. His face was barely recognizable, so bloodied and beaten, matching the rest of him. He was sitting under the heat of the midday sun in nothing but a pair of black shorts. His feet were bare, the soles filthy and blood encrusted. His chest, back, arms, and neck were all heavily marked and scarred from the abuse he had been subjected to at the hands of his father's thugs.

  "Hola," he finally replied in that deep voice of his. "Ashton."

  My belly did flip-flops when he said my name like that.

  Not Ashton, but Ash-teen.

  Shivering, I mirrored his actions and hugged my knees. "You saved me, Trigger Laperro." He glanced at me, watching me with dark, curious eyes as I spoke. "From your brothers," I added. "I'm in your debt." He turned back to stare at the door and I continued to speak. "I heard them talking. I'm to be yours."

  Mesmerized by his strange ways – and by the sheer lack of interest he seemed to have in hurting me – I watched him carefully.

  "I think I'm okay with that?" I let my shoulders shrug. "I think I'm going to be okay with you."

  Turning back to me, he stared hard at my face for the longest moment before blowing out a breath and shaking his head. "No comprendo."

  "I know you can't understand me, and that's okay," I replied, keeping my eyes on his. "Because I think I understand you anyway."

  Another deep frown creased his forehead. "Ashton."

  My heart flip-flopped again.

  He turned away, eyes retrained on the door once more.

  More than just curious about him, my eyes took in every inch of the bastard, from his shaggy black hair to the tips of his bloodied toes. I couldn’t seem to help myself. He was very beautiful for a boy.

  Shifting closer, I leaned in close and inhaled the smell of him.

  Different, I noted.

  Real.

  Human.

  Trigger didn’t look at me in return even though I could tell that he knew I was staring. He just continued to watch the door, knuckles turning white from the force he was using to clasp his knees.

  "You're so sad," I whispered, flicking my gaze to my notes, but not finding the sentence I needed in Spanish. "So lonely." Sighing wistfully, I longed to reach over and cover his dirty hand with mine and comfort him. "Just like me."

  "No hablo inglés," he replied, flicking his dark eyes to mine for the briefest of moments before turning his attention back to the door. "¿Estás atrapado aquí como yo?"

  "Are you trapped here like me?" I whispered, more to myself than him, knowing he couldn’t understand me. "Are you a prisoner, too?"

  "Mi madre esta detras de esa puerta," he replied in his own language, voice deep, tone thick with emotion, as he nodded towards the door. "Eran despiadados."

  I looked to the door and then turned back him, seeing tears in his dark eyes.

  My breath hitched in my throat and he didn’t look away, showing me his heartbreak.

  I didn’t have the words to communicate with him, but that didn’t stop me from reaching up and brushing the lone tear that was trickling down his cheek away.

  "Shh," I whispered, shifting closer so that our legs were brushing. "Shh."

  Sniffling, he leaned his cheek into my palm and whispered, "Quiero a mi mamá."

  "You mother?" I squeezed out, unsure of what he was trying to tell me. "Your mamá?"

  He nodded slowly.

  "What about her?"

  Silence.

  "Trigger?"

  Another frustrated frown.

  "Don’t be sad." Pulling myself onto my knees, I shuffled closer and pressed a tentative kiss to his dirty cheek. "I'll be your partner if you'll be mine." Keeping my hand on his cheek, I closed my eyes and whispered, "I'll save you if you save me?"

  "No deberías estar aquí con estos monstruos," he said, nuzzling his jaw into my touch. "Ellos tomarán todo lo que es puro de ti." Pulling back to look at me, he whispered, "te mantendré seguro…"

  Trigger's blood was in my mouth, mixing with mine, as our tongues dueled violently. This was a sick sort of pleasure and I felt my body betray the warning signs my brain was sending out.

  "Now, fill her with your seed," his father commanded from somewhere in the room. "Give her an heir to grow and give me a grandson to rule."

  Falling onto my back with Trigger's big body landing heavily on mine, I let my legs fall open and whimpered into his mouth when I felt his thick cock nudging against my pussy lips.

  Unlike earlier, Trigger's hands remained on my face when he pushed inside of me, cupping my cheeks as he sucked on my tongue, drinking my blood into his body, as he slowly rocked into me.

  Fuck this iniquitous code.

  Everything about this man was too big for me. He was too tall, too strong, too animalistic, too fucking dangerous.

  And now?

  Now, I belonged to him.

  I was his.

  To do whatever he wished with me.

  "Aplastaré tu coño, corderito..."

  His earlier threat floated into my mind and my blood ran cold in an instant.

  You're in trouble, Ashton.

  Don’t trust his kisses.

  He's not the same man.

  The Trig you knew would never harm you, no matter how angry he was.

  And now your body belongs to him.

  Stiffening beneath his powerful body, I remained motionless to his gentle onslaught. He was cradling my face lovingly, kissing me like he used to before he labeled me a puta traidora, and I was too numb to feel any of it.

  He was attempting to be gentle; he was trying so hard not to hurt me with shallow, lovemaking thrusts, and it hurt my heart fiercely.

  This was what you wanted, Ashton, my heart ferociously defended his actions, trying to coax silly nonsense into me. He finally claimed you. And now, he'll get you out of this world like he always promised he would.

  He will save you.

  You know this.

  Don’t give up now.

  You are so close to escaping this world.

  It didn’t matter.

  None of it mattered.

  Having him claim me gave me no comfort now.

  Knowing that he was finally aware of my innocence meant nothing to me because I had always been innocent of the crimes they accused me of.

  His kisses gave me no comfort because he had used his body to punish me, torture me, and undoubtedly scar me from the inside out.
r />   Claiming me was pointless, I realized dejectedly, because my mind hated him and my hate trumped all notions of the love that my heart still sang.

  My love was dead.

  It was smeared on his cock.

  It had been ripped away from me by the man I had once loved most but had now turned into the monster I feared most.

  Worse, the men surrounding us had applauded him for doing it.

  You would have been better off with Jet.

  Or dead.

  Silly little lamb…

  "Corderito," Trig whispered against my lips, desperately trying to coax my lips to move with his.

  He would have to take what he wanted from here on out because I would not reciprocate.

  My pride forbade it.

  "Perdóname, mi reina," he breathed, cupping my tear-stained cheek with his large hand and pressing his brow to mine. "Perdona mi crueldad."

  Forgive me, my queen…Forgive my cruelty…

  Shuddering above me, his eyelids fluttered shut and he pressed another kiss to my bloodied lips as he came hard, emptying his hot seed deep inside of me. "Porque nunca me perdonare."

  Because I will never forgive myself…

  "You seem to have broken your whore, Trigger," Fabio laughed and several of the men joined in. "How unfortunate for you."

  "Tomaré tu vida por esto, drenaré tu cuerpo de sangre y sonreíré sobre tu cadáver sin vida! Arderás en el infierno por esto, padre," Trig snarled, body trembling above me. "Tomaré tu mundo y se lo daré a una mujer. Ella se levantará conmigo. Ningún hombre estará por encima de ella. Y luego haré el amor con mi reina sobre tu tumba, mientras tú te pudres con los gusanos debajo de nosotros. Esta es mi promesa para ti." He pressed one last soft kiss on my lips, smoothed a trembling hand over my cheek, wiping away my tears, before slowly pulling out and rolling back on his knees. "Soy indigno, corderito."

  "You are in America, bastard!" his father growled, clearly agitated with his son for speaking in a language he couldn't interpret. "Not back in the slums with your whore mother. Remember this when you speak to me."

  Fabio might not have been able to translate the words his son had just spoken, but I could, and they chilled me to the bone…

  "You will burn in hell for this, father. I will take your life, drain your body of blood, and smile down at your lifeless corpse. I will take your world and give it to a woman. She will rise with me. No man will be above her. And then I will make love to my queen on top of your grave, while you rot in the ground with the worms. That is my promise to you…"

  "I was making you a promise, padre," Trig said in a deathly calm tone, eyes locked on his father. "Would you like a preview?"

  Not waiting for Fabio to respond, Trigger climbed off the bed and snatched up the knife.

  I held my breath and watched in horror as Trig skillfully flipped the knife in his hand before letting it fly through the air.

  Tony, the heavy standing directly next to Fabio, dropped to his knees with the sharp end of the knife embedded in his chest.

  He gasped for air and clawed at his chest for several moments before collapsing face down on the carpet with a choked breath.

  "You missed," Fabio taunted, holding out his hand to stop Paulie, his righthand man, from pulling his gun.

  No one checked on Tony.

  No one batted an eyelid.

  He was dead and it didn’t matter to them.

  Collateral damage.

  Replaceable.

  "Your skills with a blade are not what they once were, son."

  "I said this was a preview," Trig replied darkly, not batting an eyelid at the man whose life he had just taken, as he reached for his pants. "Not the main event." Keeping his eyes locked on his father, he stepped into his black suit pants and dragged them up his tattooed thighs, leaving the suspender straps dangling at his waist. "That will come when you least expect it," Trig added, tucking himself in and adjusting his fly. "I have mucho patience, padre –" Pausing he reached for the familiar double strapped leather holster and quickly slipped it on his bare back. My gaze immediately honed in on the matching pistols nestled on either side of his toned stomach and a trickle of fear ran down my spine. "Your time will come."

  "Jethro, you could use some of your brother's balls," Fabio laughed, clearly delighted with his son's demonic show of brutality. "This is an impressive display of pride."

  "It is not my pride that will end your life, old man," Trigger snarled, accent thickening, as he visibly shook with rage. "It will be my hunger for vengeance." His hand lingered precariously close to his left holster, fingers twitching with frustration. "And I must warn you that I am famished."

  "Such a passionate display of emotion," his father taunted with a grin. "And all for a whore." Tutting, he shook his head. "Ah, my son, you will learn."

  "Sí," Trig replied, pointing a finger at his father. "I will learn, and you will die." Reaching down, he grabbed his shirt off the floor and moved for me, shirt in hand. "Ashton," he said, voice taking on a much gentler rasp. "Come with me –" His words broke off when I flinched away from his touch.

  Unable to stop myself, I scrambled backwards when he reached for me again.

  "Corderito," he whispered brokenly, his pained brown eyes locked on mine. "Please."

  I couldn’t.

  I could not get my body to go to him.

  Trigger's shoulders sagged and he bowed his head, releasing his shirt to fall on the mattress beside me.

  "This is priceless!" Fabio and his men erupted into laughter. "You frighten her, son," he mocked. "She fears you."

  "Fuck you!" he snarled back, casting a menacing glare over his shoulder. "Taunt me and your life will end earlier than anticipated." Turning back to face me, he held out a hand for me to take. "Please, corderito. I will not hurt you."

  Shivering violently, I tried to reach for his hand, but I couldn’t get my limbs to unlock from their coiled-up state.

  My body was in so much pain that I was quite certain that I was in some state of delayed shock.

  Numb.

  Empty.

  Defiled.

  Void.

  Terrified.

  In hate-love with a monster.

  "Take your whore and leave," Fabio chuckled, amused by our floorshow. "Fill her up with your seed and put a baby in her belly – if you haven't already. Fuck the mommy-issues out of your body. Her tight cunt should distract you from your so-called hunger."

  "Shut your mouth!" Trigger barked, running a hand through his hair. "Do not speak about her like that."

  "Why not? Did we not all watch you fuck her like a brood mare just minutes ago?"

  A pained snarl tore from Trigger's throat. "You are diabólico."

  "And you are ungrateful," Fabio countered, thoroughly enjoying his son's misfortune. "You finally have what you've always wanted, son. You own her. Ashton Northwood is all yours. No other man can touch her – not without your blessing. She is sullied only to you," he continued. "Isn't that what you've always wanted? To keep her all to yourself? Your little mi reina. To fill her up with your seed and swell her belly? I gave that gift to you, Trigger. It was my good will that permitted you to contest and claim your little lamb back from Jethro, and yet, instead of being grateful to your papi for such a prize, you are acting like a wounded boy."

  "Because you tricked me!" Trig strangled out, chest heaving. "You made me –"

  "Rape her?" Fabio goaded with an evil sneer.

  "No!" Trig flinched. "I did not mean to –"

  "You meant it," Fabio pressed, laughing. "Your misplaced fury had you blinded, my boy, and you reacted on primal instinct. You were an animal. You made her suffer. You made your father proud. Now, be a man and admit it."

  "Father," Jethro interjected, edging closer to me. "This isn't –"

  "Silence, Jethro," Fabio commanded.

  Ignoring his father, Trig swung around to face me, jaw clenched. "I am leaving." His chest was heaving as he desperately tried to keep his temp
er in check. "I have to – but I will not force you to come with me if that is not what you want."

  Trembling, I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

  Something dark flashed in his eyes and he nodded stiffly. "I understand."

  Without saying another word, Trigger stalked out of the room, leaving a trail of blood and destruction behind him.

  "Well, well, well," Fabio mused, sounding slightly disappointed. "I expected more of a dramatic exit." He turned to Paulie and smirked. "You remember his mother; she was a handful, too – that's where he gets all that unrestrained passion from." He sighed loudly. "It makes for great sport, but it will get him killed sooner than necessary."

  Still riveted to the mattress, I shivered violently as Jethro closed the space between us and gently draped his brother's white shirt over my shoulders, shielding my breasts from view.

  "Don’t cry, Ash," he whispered, wiping a tear from my cheek with his forefinger.

  I wasn't aware that I was crying.

  Nothing seemed to be working right.

  "It's over now."

  "You best take her somewhere safe, since your brother has once again abandoned her," Fabio announced. "My men and I are hungry sharks and we can smell fresh blood." His lust-filled eyes traveled over my body and he licked his lips. "I do not wish to break the code of my ancestors, but I only have so much willpower, and I can smell her pussy from here." He stroked his whiskered chin. "She smells mouthwatering."

  A pained noise tore from my chest and Jet quickly helped me off the bed, forcing my body to move.

  Feeling weak and lightheaded, I wobbled on my feet and sagged against Jet's lean frame, physically unable to take my own weight.

  Shivering when he wrapped an arm around me, I forced my body to relax and let him guide me to the door.

  "Where should I take her?" Jet asked, stopping in the doorway to look at his father. "To his quarters?"

  "She is his now," Fabio agreed with a bored sigh. "Drop his whore at his door and be done with her."

  "I, uh –" Swallowing deeply, Jet looked down at my naked form and paled. Jaw slack, he turned back to his father and said, "I think she needs a doctor, father."