The Kidnapper's Brother: A Dark Criminal Romance

by Alice T. Boone

  “Did you know Toby was going to do this?”

  “I had a feeling,” Alex casually admitted, adjusting his footing again. “Usually I’ve got more time before he does something this stupid.”

  I let my hair sink into the warm water, my eyes closing as I focused on my breath. There were really only two choices when it came to Alex. Either I trusted him, believed in his words and found faith in his actions, or I wrote the man the same fate as I had his brother. If he said he didn’t know anything about Toby stalking me, about the phone calls, about the notes left on my car, then I had to place some trust in my stomach.

  It was wrong to judge Alex for something he didn’t do, wasn’t it?

  “But he has done this before,” I noted— a comment that only seemed to force Alex further away from me. “What happened to the other women?”

  While I had expected rigidity, I hadn’t expected the anger. Alex remained silent, stoic as he moved to tug the stopper out of my bath, paying no attention to the tender foot he knocked out of the way. His anger wouldn’t tint my cheeks with embarrassment— not this time. Alex jumped to his feet, tugging a towel off a nearby hook and sinking his fingers into my arm as he tugged me to my feet. His eyes remained cold as he wrapped the plush towel around my shoulders, and my body didn’t feel much of anything until I finally felt the second towel landing on my soaked hair.

  “Please, Alex.” The sound of my whimper wouldn’t stop him from trying to dry me as quickly as possible, wouldn’t stop his aggressive rubbing. Then, another snap in my chest, another beat of life. Plucking whatever courage I had left, I ducked my head out from under the towel, my hand on Alex’s as I attempted to pull the answer I needed most. “Please.”

  His jaw remained firm, but when his dark eyes finally met my own, I watched him soften. Another breath of frustration filled the space between us, and while I was sure Alex hated how close I’d drawn to him, he didn’t move. Instead, those dark eyes watched me, studying my every movement before landing on my bruised lips again.

  “A week,” he murmured. “Two at most.”

  It wasn’t fear that filled my chest. Now, a new kind of sorrow drowned my lungs. Alex wouldn’t move from his post, and while another grunt of frustration crawled from his chest, his hands seemed to move with a different intent. Gently, delicately, the man brushed a strand of wet hair from my face, palm landing against my cheek as confusion rushed through both of us. Then, things turned fuzzy, turned grey.

  His lips pressed so gently against my own that I wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. I stood in front of him, frozen in place as his hand tilted my head back, granting him a comfortable access as he closed the rest of the gap between us. Then, another crack, another chance for everything between us to shift. The gentleness I loved turned into a roughness I didn’t know I craved, and in an instant, Alex had forced me back. His right hand pinned my wrist to the wall behind me, his left digging roughly into my thigh as he forced my leg up the wall. Hungry kisses peppered my lips, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hard cock ground against my entrance.

  Everything moved too quick around him. Alex had a way of making the gentlest among us turn violent, and I felt lost in his grasp. When his hips ground against me, when his cock teased my entrance, I couldn’t stop the way my leg tightened around him. The first hint of my obedience, of my willingness, released my thigh from his hand, and I found his fingers back around my neck, tracing my jaw and keeping me perfectly in place. It wasn’t until his shirt balled in my hands, wasn’t until I threatened to lift the material, that Alex finally pulled away, an icy space between us.

  He almost looked mad. A spark of fear ran through my system, fear that I had made a mistake, that I had taken away the only salvation I’d known in months. Once I caught the look in Alex’s eye, even that vanished. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and as a tenseness ran over his body, I caught another glimpse at his soul.

  He was mad.

  He just wasn’t mad at me.

  “Fuck.”

  His lips were on me again— hot, hungry, angry. My towel didn’t begin to slip until his hands started to roam my body, and for the first time in my life, I couldn’t find the strength to be embarrassed when it fell to the floor. Alex kept his right hand on my waist, keeping me against the wall as his left began to explore the areas I needed him most. His thumb brushed over my nipple as he cupped my breast, and I couldn’t bite back the moan he brought with a gentle pinch— a sound that seemed to stop him completely.

  I’d never seen him so hesitant, so cautious, so frightened.

  My body didn’t have a chance to cool before he shifted again. Alex’s lips moved, drifted across my skin, resting against the crook of my neck. His fingers trailed down my twisting stomach, and the breath caught in my lung as he finally moved to trace along my wet slit. When he felt how wet I was, how desperately I needed his attention, I felt like I’d done something wrong, like I’d done something else to disappoint him. A growl of anger, of disgust kissed along my neck, hidden between shudders of pleasure and kisses of passion. No part of me could understand what was happening anymore, to either of us, and whatever hope I had of figuring it out vanished when his lips trailed up to my ear.

  “Alex,” I moaned.

  “Don’t fucking tell me I make you feel good.” His chuckle chilled my skin, but nothing would cool the heat between my thighs. My cheeks tinted, and my throat had tightened so badly I couldn’t swallow. “I don’t want to hear a fucking sound out of you.”

  I wouldn’t push him. I wouldn’t say anything for fear of pushing him away, for fear of forcing him away. I wouldn’t fucking breathe when he inserted a finger inside of me, when he growled against my skin. His hard cock was impossible to ignore as it bruised my leg, the occasional jerk of his hips threatening to pull another moan out of me as his fingers curled in a rhythmic motion. Every piece of me shuddered as his pace increased, threatened to crumple all together when his fingers brushed over my g-spot. Alex pulled his fingers away the second stars started to spot my vision, reading the tightening of my body far too well, and as his wet fingers rubbed my clit, I forgot how to form words.

  “Fuck me,” he breathed. “How do you feel so fucking perfect?”

  My hands balled uselessly in his shirt. I couldn’t remember the last time my heart had beat so hard, the last time I’d felt so good, and for a moment, I was certain that Alex was the only man in the world who could make this all go away, who could chase out the darkness in my chest.

  “Alex, please.”

  Annoyance brought another snarl against my skin. His hand was wrapped around my throat again, a dark possession sending a spike of fear through my system, but his fingers would never stop. Alex’s tightening grip forced me to look at him, forced me to face him, and as his fingers curled again, I nearly thought I’d scream out.

  “Don’t fucking dare.” The snarl snapped my eyes shut, but as the pads of his fingers brushed against my g-spot again, it hardly mattered. I wouldn’t be able to obey him— not when he could make me feel this good. “Don’t you dare cum.”

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what I was apologizing for anymore, didn’t know why I felt so ashamed for something so flawless. I’d never felt so humiliated in my life, but still, I squeaked out the words he demanded. “I’m sorry.”

  “What’s got you so fucking wet?” The darkness in his voice twisted my stomach, fed this ache in my chest. There was a hurt there— a hurt I was terrified I’d never forget. “You like wearing his marks?”

  “No.”

  “I think you do,” Alex chuckled, his lips back against my skin. His hot breath wouldn’t soothe the wounds he forced open, wouldn’t cool the blood that spilled from them. “I’ll bet you’ve been soaked for days.”

  When he pulled away from me completely, I’d never felt so angry in my life. Need raked through my body, bony fingers tugging on my heart. Alex’s hands had shifted to grabbing at my thighs, to squeezing at my hips w
hen that wasn’t quite enough. His eyes were off me now, drifting down to my body, and I’d never felt so naked in my life. His teeth sunk painfully into his lips, and a new level of selfishness swam through my veins.

  I should have played along.

  I should have given him the punishment he was dying for, but my heart wasn’t quite so out of reach.

  Not when it beat so painfully against my chest.

  “Please don’t stop.” His head shot up. A sad kind of grin stretched over his tired features, as though I had just woken him from a twisted nightmare. It was only when he buried his face back in my neck, when his chuckle was brushing against my skin, that I choked out the words I needed to say the most. “Please, Alex. I need you so badly.”

  The second the admission left my lips, Alex pulled away like I’d attacked him, leaving me alone in the dark all over again. Immediately, the man had thrown himself to the other side of the bathroom, his hands wiping my spit off his lip as though he hated the very taste of me. This man who had the disgusting ability to show me the pieces I hated the most, to show me the things I was so desperate to hide, had broken me all over again, and I worried the last sound I’d hear would be those awful little curses.

  “Fuck.”

  “I’m sorry,” I rushed, cheeks tinting and eyes beginning to sting. “I didn’t mean that.”

  His pained chuckle didn’t do anything to bring him back to me, didn’t bring the same curiosity it had just moments before. My words only brought Alex’s attention back to me for a second, but the version of the man I met was long gone. Now, he just seemed darker, sadder, more disgusted than the first time we met.

  “Get dressed,” he growled, voice draining as the final breath of oxygen fled his lungs. When I remained frozen in place, a shiver ran over his muscles, ran over the room. “Just get fucking dressed!” Alex snarled again. The anger was the only thing that seemed to bring any life to his body, and even that fizzled when he finally dared a look back at me. His eyes were back on his bedroom, on the memory of where we laid just hours before, and he tried one last time. “Get dressed, Lilah, and I’ll find you something to eat.”

  Chapter Eight

  It was the cold nose on my hand that snapped me out of another tailspin, another memory darkened by hindsight. I could smell the damn thing before my vision cleared enough to see him, but the mutt at my feet didn’t seem to mind that much at all. The dog Toby had brought home had slept at my feet every night since his arrival, and with five days spent away from his owner, the damn thing still didn’t have a name. All he’d really done was beg me now, pulling me out of one episode after the other with demands for food, demands for scraps, demands for love.

  Not that he was the only one.

  My attention turned back to the cooked eggs in front of me, a welcomed distraction from the pain in my chest. I hadn’t seen Lilah in four days— not really, at least. I was certain she slept every night with her ear pressed against that damn door, sneaking out in the dead of night to get food, to get water, slipping over my sleeping form as though she didn’t make my cock ache with every god damn movement.

  When the dog’s nose brushed against my leg again, his tongue hanging happily out of his mouth, I managed a weak raise of my eyebrow. A simple motion cracked my neck, my spine, my sore wrists, and whatever attention I had left drifted back to the junkyard pup.

  “I’ve never seen a dog eat an egg, bud.”

  When his eyes refused to leave me, I moved before the guilt could tighten my chest. An egg was basically just a baby chicken, wasn’t it? And dogs ate chicken all the fuckin’ time— an argument based on solid logic. I moved to grab a plate from the dishrack for him before doubt could fill the hole in my chest.

  “Might save you time if you just injected the cholesterol straight into his heart.”

  The sound of her voice had me jerking upright so quick, it brought a tint to her cheeks. The shadow of a grin crossed her features and for the first time in a long time, I ran out of the infectious bite I relied on so heavily. Lilah stood at the base of the stairs, arms wrapped around herself and body poured perfectly into the jeans I’d washed the day before. She’d dug another one of my t-shirts out of the drawer, and while annoyance threatened to crawl up my chest, seeing it tied around her waist made it difficult to focus on much else.

  The brunette pulled her hair back into a bun as she stepped into the kitchen, and while I had felt completely unable to look away, Lilah’s attention could only focus on the mutt at my feet. There was something different in her walk, something sinfully familiar. It wasn’t the same confidence she held when I’d first seen her, but she was hardly the same doe that trembled at Toby’s name. I hardened my stance as she approached and peeled my eyes off of her as she crouched in front of me to lower herself to the pup’s level. When he lapped at her hand, kissed at the skin I loathed the most, bitterness flooded my stomach.

  Traitor.

  “You’re filthy, baby.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t have to call me baby.”

  Lilah’s soft eyes narrowed into slits, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. When I watched her move to brush hair out of the dog’s eye, I spun back towards my breakfast. My ego couldn’t take another hit right now, couldn’t take the idea of being jealous of a fucking dog. Pouring myself a coffee, I struggled to remember the days where it was easy to breathe, the days where this thing in my chest was deadened.

  “He’s gonna need a bath eventually, Alex.”

  Helplessly, I shrugged my shoulders. “Call me baby again and I’ll get you anything you want.” Lilah jumped to her feet, and as she pressed herself into the counter beside me, it was impossible to ignore her smile. Numbing my face, I gave her a nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Her nod of acceptance was more than I deserved, but then, life had never been very fair. Past sins made me more susceptible to death than it did Lilah’s bliss, but that didn’t seem to matter much. Nothing mattered much once she leaned a little closer. Her hands didn’t shake when she reached out to pop some bread in the toaster, and her every movement seemed to bring a new kind of ease to my muscles, a life I hadn’t known for years.

  “I’m a dog groomer,” she finally noted, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eye. On second thought, her brow knitted together, her face contorting as she re-examined the reality around her. “Well, I was a dog groomer.”

  It was that smile that I hated the most— that one that only ever seemed to come alive when we were locked in this hell together. Work had brought Lilah routined pleasantries, indoctrinated greetings and smiles. Chaos, though, brought a new life to the both of us, a dirty addition I was certain we’d spend the rest of our lives trying to figure out. I hated Toby, hated myself for what we had become, but this living business had never been very easy. If brutality was the only thing that made my heart beat anymore, then could it really have been that bad?

  Though, brutality wasn’t the only thing to rush my blood, was it?

  Not anymore.

  My chest struggled to expand around her. For fear of suffocation, I shifted my footing. My only real intention was to get her a coffee, to get her away from me and back to the room where she was safe, but fate was far too accustomed to torture. I shifted behind her, hardly thinking as my cock brushed against her soft ass in my attempt to reach the mugs in front of her. But then, that wasn’t what froze my system so entirely. It was the subtle hints of her moan that spiked my blood pressure, that forced that involuntary jerk to my hips.

  It’d been a fucking decade since I was last a teenager, since I had this little control over myself.

  What the fuck was I doing?

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  A snarl built in my throat as I tore my hips, my need away from her and allowed my forehead to fall against her shoulder when my weakness took back over. Shame rushed through my very marrow, poisoning whatever sick lust I might have felt for the wide-eyed rabbit in front of me, and br
eath was all but impossible. The scent of my shampoo on her hair was the only thing that kept me alive, that tied me to this world, and I hated how much more of it I needed. I hated this instinct, this need to wrap my arms around her waist like she was a god damn life preserver in this fucking storm.

  I hated how much I needed her.

  “Don’t do this, Lilah,” I commanded, an airy chuckle betraying me. “Don’t ask me to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  I wanted the question to twist me, to bend me, to drown me. I wanted to feel anything beside this numbness of a trapped corpse, but it wouldn’t come. I wouldn’t allow it to— not for a thought this disgusting. My hands landed back on her waist, back on the warmth they had found just days before.

  “Don’t ask me to choose between our lives and yours.”

  A shiver ran over his system, a truth we both had to know by now.

  “It doesn’t have to be like that, Alex,” she rushed, her head tilting to the side to watch me in my death throes. “You don’t owe him anything anym—”

  She was just an illusion, I reasoned. Lilah wasn’t actually something I needed, something that would save me from this curse of a half-life. And if none of this was real, then this need in my chest would die with time. Though, maybe that was just a convenient excuse. Maybe that was just a way to make me feel like I was in control— even as my hands moved to her skin, even when I begged myself not to. Nothing had ever felt so sweet as when my hand landed on her hips, slid under her shirt to grab ahold of her waist. Sick images from my dreams flooded my head, and my cock ached with every inch between us. Every piece of me wanted to know what it was like to hear her moaning my name again, to hear her tell me I was everything she needed, everything she wanted, everything she’d ever have.