Creed of Redemption (S.I.N. Rock Star Trilogy #2)

by S. R. Watson

I see red at his accusation. “You’re wrong. I know it all seems coincidental, but she would never do that. You don’t know her like I do or the things she’s helped me through. She would never betray me like that.” He shakes his head like he is trying to clear it.

  “No, you’re wrong brother. I do know her like you do. Exactly like you do,” he emphasizes. What the hell is he saying? My heart quickens because I hope he’s not saying what I think he is. “She confessed to me that she did it. First she leaked that our father was sick. Next she leaked that his twin sons were plotting to pull his business right from under him. Her last card is her ace. One, neither one of us wants her to play.” My worst fear is being realized. I know what he is going to tell me. My fucking demons already have one foot out the door, tap dancing in the light.

  “Her ace? What is it Sevyn?”

  “She was my submissive, brother. Same as she was yours. We’re being blackmailed.” And there it is. Our truths. Identical right down to our demons.

  We are the pawns in our own game. The air I breathe is suffocating. The very relationship that gave me strength at a time when I needed it the most, was a lie. Melissa betrayed me. Which of us was first? What was the angle? Then another reality comes crashing down on me. Sevyn knew. When he was here a couple weeks ago and Melissa was here with me, he knew then, if not before.

  “You knew. God damn it. Before she leaked any of this, you knew that we were messing with the same woman when you saw her on this bus and you were willing to let her betray me even further.”

  “Diesel, I—” I cut him off. If he says another word, I will not be responsible for my actions. How can I fucking trust people when everyone who I ever loved or let close to me fucked me over? My father. Women. And now my own twin brother. I punch the fucking wall to keep from crushing his face. The frame caves and blood drips down my knuckles.

  The guys try to ask me what is wrong when they see me come out, but Xander motions for them to get the hell out my way. I go up to the front of the bus and tell Stewart to stop this fucking bus. I need off and now! I’m guessing Stewart feels the shit storm I have brewing so he doesn’t question my request. He assures me that he’ll take the next exit and find somewhere to stop.

  I return to the living area to throw on some shoes. Nobody dares to try to talk with me, except Lourdes that is.

  “Is everything okay?”

  What kind of fucked-up question is that? Do I look okay to her? “Since you missed the context clues of me being pissed, princess, no. I’m not fucking okay!” Xander is on my ass in a heartbeat.

  “I don’t give a shit what’s going on in your life. You will not take that shit out on my sister.” We are nose to nose.

  “Xander, it’s okay. We’re here for you, Diesel,” she says grabbing the hand that is bloody. I pull it away from her.

  “It’s not okay because I just found out that I can’t trust a Single. Fucking. Person.” I yell.

  “You can trust me,” she says softly not realizing she just said “me” instead of “us.”

  The bus comes to a rolling stop. I look around the bus at all of the stares. Then I look at Lourdes and the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes send me over the edge. She left me once too. She has played a part in hurting me.

  “Really? I can trust you, Lourdes?” She nods. “How can I trust you when you can’t even tell your stepbrother that you’re fucking me!” I don’t even see Xander’s fist coming. He gets one jab into my mouth before the guys pull him off me. I wipe the blood away and look over at Lourdes. She is full on crying now and Xander is fighting to get free.

  And that, ladies and gentleman, is how you make a fucking exit. Fuck this!

  Sneak Peek of Unforbidden (Forbidden Trilogy) ~ Book # 3

  By: S.R. Watson

  Chapter 1

  Footsteps sound above me, but that is all I can decipher. My eyes strain to take in my surroundings, but I’m in pitch blackness. The smell of urine is so prevalent, I struggle to keep down the bile that is threatening to come up. I feel around the springy fabric I’m lying on, that I’m guessing is a mattress. I get up on all fours and crawl slowly until I’m completely off the pungent smelling thing. I come in contact with cold concrete. Where the hell am I? A sliver of panic crosses me as I come to the realization that I have to be in a basement of some sort. There are no basements in California. Oh God, how will anyone ever find me? I let my guard down and my stalker got to me. How many days have passed? I’m scared and pissed off at the same time. What is this sick fuck going to do with me? So many questions are going through my mind at warp speed. Surely Grayson has realized I’m missing by now, and I’m sure Jordan will tell him and my mom everything.

  The footsteps grow louder. Someone is coming. I swallow the lump in my throat as I work to gather my courage. Maybe I can run once he opens the door, only I don’t know which way the door is yet so I’ll have to be quick. He won’t be expecting me to be awake or me running. The door creaks open and I get ready to make my escape.

  Holy crap! There are two of them. My moment of hesitation relinquishes my perceived advantage. I attempt to sprint past them anyway, but I’m easily caught. The door ahead seems miles away.

  “Not so fast,” the blond man chastises. His grip on my arms tells me he means business. His lip curls as he snarls. “There is nowhere to run to, doll. Even if you manage to escape this house, we’re in the middle of nowhere.” I pull against him and he belts out a hearty laugh.

  “That is enough, Roc,” the darker haired man warns. “Let her go. She isn’t going anywhere.” So the blond’s name is Roc—not a real name, I’m sure. Hell, what does it matter? I’ve seen their faces. What is their plan for me? More importantly, what will they do with me after I’m no longer useful?

  “Why am I here?” I manage to speak up.

  “You’re going to make us a lot of money, sweetness,” Roc says as he uses one finger to caress the side of my arm. I shiver at his dirty touch and then I see it. The scorpion tattoo on his hand. It looks familiar to me.

  “Cut the shit, Roc. Let’s do what we came down here to do.” The dark haired guy seems to be more sensible, then again he is part of this kidnapping. I’m guessing I’m being held for ransom. “Put this over your head Siobhan,” he says as he hands me some kind of pillowcase.

  Dark haired man, who has yet to be identified, knows my name. What the fuck? “How do you know my name?” I challenge.

  “I know a lot. Now just put the pillow case over your head so we can bring you upstairs,” he says.

  “Fuck this!” Roc snatches the pillow case from me and puts it over my head before pulling my arms behind my back. “You’re being too nice to this bitch, and she doesn’t respect the situation she’s in.” I pull against him, but his grip tightens.

  “You don’t have to be a dick, Roc. Let’s just take her upstairs.”

  Dark haired guy is both taller and more muscular than Roc, but it seems as though Roc is the one in charge. Roc nudges me forward as an indication to start walking. I can’t see where the hell I’m going, so he is leading me with one hand gripping my arm and the other holding the pillowcase so it doesn’t slip off. We go up some stairs to reach floor level of the house and then another couple of flights after we’re inside. The fucker purposefully let me bump into a couple of corners and it hurts like a bitch. After a few turns, I’m shoved into a room and the door is slammed shut. I hear a few locks being turned from the other side of the door. I wait a few seconds and take the pillowcase off. There is actually light in here. I look around to assess my surroundings. It’s a bedroom, if you can call it that. It has a single twin size bed with sheets, a comforter, and a pillow. The Disney Princesses stares back at me from the pink, girly comforter. How ironic? I damn sure don’t feel like a princess right now.

  Anything is a step up from that smelly mattress in the basement though. I’m so glad I couldn’t see what it looked like in the darkness. Aside from the bed, there’s not much else in here. There is
a single chair against the wall and the one window is boarded up. What was the point of bringing me up here? I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed, wired with unanswered questions. Time seems to stand still, yet I don’t know how many days have passed. My thoughts are interrupted when I hear the door being unlocked. Blondie walks in and pushes the door closed ominously. His sneer is threatening as he motions toward the chair.

  “Have a seat over here,” he says as he pulls the chair to the center of the room. I stare at him blankly, wondering what the heck he is up to. “Hurry up bitch. I’m not Alex. I will not tolerate disobedience.” Ah, dark haired guy finally has a name. This disclosure worries me because I know too much. I watch television. I know how these things end. They’re probably going to kill me after they get what they want. I get up and walk slowly to the chair. If they’re going to kill me anyway, why make things easier for them. My defiance is met with a body slam into the chair. The chair tips slightly as my weight is thrown against the wooden frame.

  “Don’t test me!” Roc spits. My arm aches from the blunt force of the chair. I try not to wince and give this fucker the satisfaction.

  Roc straddles my thighs and bears his weight on my lap. His hand tangles in my hair as he yanks my head back. His face is mere inches from mine. His breath is suffocating me as I work to control my own respirations. I start to hyperventilate in panic.

  “I will fuck you up, doll, or I could just fuck you?” he threatens. His free hand caresses between my cleavage, and it makes me feel sick.

  “What the hell are you doing, Roc?” Alex booms. His entry into the room is commanding. I thought Roc was the one in charge, but now I just don’t know. For now, I’m glad he’s here. Was Roc about to rape me? “Get the damn video recorder and let’s get this shit done.” Wait what? Roc eases off of me, but not before winking.

  “Later,” he mouths. He leaves the room, but returns two minutes later with some type of camcorder. For the first time, I see the newspaper in Alex’s hand when he shoves it at me.

  “Hold this with the date showing,” he says dryly. I do as he says, waiting to see what they’re going to do next. I look at the date and see that it has been exactly two days since I was taken from Grayson’s house. I can’t believe I was out of it that long. “Hold the paper at chest level and look into the recorder,” Alex instructs. Again I comply and he starts the video. The recording goes on for a few minutes without a single word spoken. Weird as shit. No demands were made. Alex turns off the recorder and doesn’t look in my direction was he exits the room.

  Roc walks stealthily toward me with a huge smile on his face. “Now that he’s gone, we can play a bit.” He pulls me up from the chair and the paper I’m holding slips to the floor. Hell no, this is not happening without a fight. I begin to buck against him, but he just laughs. He drags me across the room and throws me onto the bed.

  “Fuck you, cocksucker!” I scream. He climbs on top of me and pins my hands above my head with one hand. His other hand comes down hard against my cheek. Tears slide down my face, but I don’t give him the pleasure of hearing the sobs escape my mouth. I squirm wildly, trying my best to buck him off of me. When his hand is close enough to my face, I bite the hell out of him. He grunts incoherently. That stunt earns me a punch to the gut. Air rushes out me and I can’t breathe. The tears fall harder.

  “You fucking little cunt. You’re going to pay for that.” As he inspects his bitten hand, Alex walks back into the room. His eyebrows knit together in anger.

  “Roc? What the hell, man?” Roc jumps off of me like a guilty person caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

  “That little bitch just bit me,” he explains.

  “What were you doing? From the looks of things, you were trying to have sex with her,” Alex huffs. “I’m not into rape, Roc. I didn’t sign up for this shit. We do the ransom, get the money, and that is it. I won’t be a part of anything else or have it on my conscious that I let it happen in my presence.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be in your presence if you’d stop coming to her damn rescue,” Roc argues. “I was just having a little fun. Nobody asked you to participate. Don’t act all holier than thou. You’re just as much a part of this kidnapping as I am.” During the midst of their argument my eyes are drawn to Roc’s right hand that he is rubbing from my bite—specifically the tattoo. That freaking scorpion tattoo. Oh God! How did I not make this connection before.

  “It’s you,” I accuse, pointing at Roc. “You were the pizza delivery guy who came to my house a couple of weeks ago. I remember the tattoo now.” He had on a cap that day, but I can’t say that I paid enough attention to him to notice. I was too busy trying to tip him so I could get him out. He creeped me out then and I didn’t pay attention to my instincts. I was distracted by Liam’s unannounced visit. The grin Roc is sporting right now tells me that I’m right. It was him.

  “Kind of slow there, doll,” he chuckles.

  “Just stay the hell away from her,” Alex warns, bringing the conversation back to Roc’s attempt to rape me. “Say what you want, but I will not let you harm her while I’m here. I can’t have that shit on my conscious too. You don’t have to like it, but you will respect it.”

  “Whatever,” Roc replies dismissively. “Oh and if that douche bag wouldn’t have been there that day, I would’ve taken you then. You were almost too easy. When I did come back for you, this one was with me,” he says pointing over at Alex. “So don’t let his white cape fool you, he wants this money just as much as I do. He won’t give a shit what happens to you after he gets it and I’ll be waiting.” He laughs as he walks out of the door. My heart drops because I know that he is right. I try to scoot back further on the bed as Alex walks toward me and a pain shoots through my stomach where Roc punched me. I bend over to hide my face.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks.

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  “Siobhan, look at me.” I would ask how he knows my name again, but of course he does. Those fuckers were watching my every move. I don’t look up or answer him. Let my silence give him a hint that he can fuck off too. “I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you, either.”

  As a reflex, my head whips up at that statement. I stare him coldly in the eyes. Really motherfucker because I’m already hurting from the blow your jackass partner delivered right before you came in. “Really,” I answer sarcastically.

  “Shit, your face, it’s all red.” He flinches. He moves my hair away from my right cheek and I jump. “Roc fucking hit you.” He looks down and sees that I’m guarding my stomach. He snatches my shirt up to get a look before I can protest. “God damn it.” He gets up and begins to pace. He then leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

  I can hear him arguing with Roc downstairs, but the actual words are not intelligible. I strain to hear, but it is no use. Wait, I didn’t hear Alex put the locks on the door after he left. I can make a run for it. I desperately try to remember the route I was taken on to get to this room when I had that damn pillow case on my head. How can I get past them without being seen? Maybe If I can just escape to a room that has a phone, I can call 9-1-1. Yes, that sounds more feasible. Once they ping my location, they can send help. I won’t have to try to get away. Just as I try to set this plan in motion, Alex comes back in carrying two ice packs. Roc’s words about me being slow mock me.

  “Here. One pack is for your face and the other is for your stomach. This won’t happen again. He won’t be back in here without me.” He sets the ice packs next to me on the bed and walks back out. This time I do hear him locking the door from the other side. I count them. There are three clicks. So much for that plan. I will just have to be more attentive. The next time that door is left unlocked, I need to be ready to act. I need to figure out a way to save myself before they get what they want from this.

  The silence is deafening. The house is quiet now and I’m left alone with my thoughts. The ice that I’m using on my face and stomac
h is the only thing that is keeping me grounded in the here and now. I wish this was just a really bad dream. I wonder how my family is dealing with all of this. How Jordan and Grayson are holding up. A tear escapes as I think about my last memory of Grayson having Vanessa at his house. Our break up had crushed me. Still I know he must be worried. Vanessa is probably glad to have me out the picture. Bitch. The thought that this may be how it all ends terrifies me. Roc’s words about Alex not caring once he gets the money replay in my mind. He promised to be waiting for that moment. Was that his way of saying that he is going to finish what he started, before he kills me? This is the type of shit you see on soap operas or some television drama. Hard to believe this is my reality right now. My parents have some money put away, but they’re not rich.

  A light bulb suddenly goes off. Grayson is fucking ridiculously rich. They’re going to try to get the ransom from him. This was probably the plan all along and I stupidly kept him in the dark about it all. He is going to be blindsided. If I had just told him, maybe he could have used his connections to catch these fuckers before they took me. Instead, I trusted that Officer Richards would find out who was behind the calls. I let my guard down once the calls stopped. I just figured whoever it was grew bored with me. I had no idea a bigger plan had been put into place or that there were two of them. Alex seems like he is just in it for the money and truly wants to keep me safe in this. Roc is the evil one. If it is up to him, I know he won’t let me go. I don’t even know if this ransom scheme is bigger than just the two of them. Either way, I know I need to save myself.

  Chapter 2

  I guess at some point I fell asleep, although I have no sense of time—whether it’s morning or evening. I’m lying in a wet spot from the melted ice. I shove the ice packs aside and sit up. I wince at the soreness in my stomach. I never did turn the light off in the room so my eyes work to acclimate while I rub them. Once they can focus, I notice a brown envelope near the door. The Hamburger Helper that Alex brought to me last night is still sitting in the chair because I was too upset to eat. My stomach growls, but I’m too focused on the envelope that now has my full attention. I ease out of bed and take timid steps toward it. As I pick up the envelop, I read the words “Enjoy” written with a black Sharpie. Butterflies flutter in my belly and my heart quickens. Somehow, I know this isn’t good. My fingers tremble as I bend back the clasps that will unleash whatever contents await me. It’s photographs—8x10, black and white photographs. I see the first photo and I drop the whole lot. What the fuck?