“Of course, I blame myself. We all should! It’s our fault she was so distraught and ran off to warn him of everything. If she didn’t know, he never would’ve hurt her.”
Axel meets my gaze, shaking his head. He argues, “Her father’s always hurt her, Brent. We never had a hand in any of it. At least now we know the extent he’s willing to go to, and we can finally protect her from any future abuse.”
“How do you propose we’ll be able to protect her if she’s still inside that house? How can we make her dad pay if she stays? If we hit his pocketbook, it hurts Kresley as well. If we bankrupt him, he’ll take it out on her. You know that, as well as I do, Axel.”
Tristan gives my shoulders another reassuring squeeze. He recognizes the problem the same way I do. It’s always been Cole and Axel who consider problems differently than the two of us. Cole prefers to sweep everything under the rug and then handle things as they come at him. Axel, however, is the planner. He’s the mastermind that notices every angle, even those we’d never consider a possibility.
Cole cuts in, bursting out with, “I don’t know, damn it! We’ll figure something out. We always do, Brent. Our beba will be with us again. I know it…I can feel it in my bones.”
Axel presses the sleep button on the device, taking her image away before setting it down and turning his chair fully toward us. “I may have another plan that’ll give us some time to get her back...”
“Anything,” I retort, and my brothers agree immediately. We want her here. Now!
I don’t even get the chance of going back to school before I’m forced to face the quads. I’m expected to grovel and plead at the de Lacharrieres’s perfect feet, but I’m not ready in the slightest. I don’t want to have to witness their smug, asshole-ish expressions as they look down their pointy noses at me. I can’t stand the thought of knowing they’ll be silently mocking me inside and relishing in the blind stubbornness my father seems to be made of. I feel like a total fool for it all—for falling in love and then stupidly thinking father would believe me about the boys’ plan.
He’d threatened me today, to get me over here. I’m assuming he’d planned to speak to their dad, but who knows if he got the chance. All I know is, the quads were inside when I snuck out. I couldn’t face them, I wouldn’t. Knowing Father, he most likely spoke to Mr. de Lecharriere and once he was finished, left me here. There’s no way he’ll take me back with him, even if it’s merely across the street. No, he’ll embarass me further by making me walk, residual aches and pains and all. The selfish bastard.
It’s storming outside, and the freezing, brisk winter wind whips at my silky, purple hair. I hate them. I hate them all, but inside I know I fucking love them, and it kills me. My heart is shattered into pieces, and I’m nothing but broken anymore. How could I be such an idiot? Now that they’ve ruined me they’ll ruin my family as well. I can’t deal with these emotions; it’s too much. I never should have gotten into this mess in the first place. I’m nothing but a chewed-up toy to them, just another thing to own and throw away after they’ve had their fill.
The man I thought was on my side, Axel, turned out to be the mastermind behind the entire plan. How could he be so uncaring and calculated to dream up these ideas? He’s nothing like that. At least, he’s never been that way to me. I was completely obtuse, too preoccupied with his godlike looks and intriguing mind that’s all wrapped up into his almost geeky portrayal. It was an act, not doubt; he’s just as immoral and warped as Tristan. Hell, they all are.
They’re brothers, quadruplets. I should’ve known they couldn’t be too different from one another, that they were all cruel on the inside. They’re a group of entitled, filthy rich boys, accustomed to being spoiled by getting whatever they could possibly want. They’re used to playing with their dinner like a cat would with a mouse before they eat it. Well, I refuse to be on their menu any longer.
It feels as if they’ve reached into my chest and yanked my heart out, leaving a gaping hole in my body where the four brothers used to be. I don’t want to think about any of it anymore—the stress and the pressure. My father will hate me, even more, when he discovers what’s really going on, that I was telling him the truth. He’ll despise me even more, as I’ll be the downfall to everything he’s worked for, according to his thinking. I’ll take his money, his life, his job, everything. The shittiest part of it all is that I never had a choice in the matter. No choice was given to me, and I never asked for any of this. I had my own strategy for my life, to get out of here and head straight into my fatherless future. Yet the wealthy of the wealthiest dipped in and decided that I’m nothing to them, that I’m worth ruining in their selfish wake.
At that thought, as the utter desperation that’s been building inside me explodes, I let go and shoot forward. I’ve never been suicidal in my life. I’ve never had even the slightest thought of taking my own existence for someone else, but I can’t take this heartache or the future that’s yet to come any longer. The de Lacharrieres’s stone balcony is icy and slick as I let myself go finally and make a run for it.
I can leap over and off the short railing surrounding the overlook. My body will freely fall down the steep side of the mansion and land in the frozen, outdoor pool. It’s almost too easy. The sharp, freezing sensation that I know will come will cover my aching body instantly. The water will freeze my limbs and numb away my emotions, all to suffocate and drown me as the quads have effectively done to my heart. There will be no consequences any longer; I will simply stop existing in this cruel, deceitful, unloving world.
Flying forward, my hands reach out in front of my body. They’re already looking to grasp at my life being snuffed out. I’ll no longer have to feel so cut open, so raw...so fucking empty. An anguished cry breaks free, but I’m no longer concerned with who could possibly hear. I’m too close to the ultimate freedom, too close to no longer caring about anything that I don’t notice the dark shadow off to the side. The bulk was partially hidden behind a pillar, but I’ve been far too wrapped up in myself—in my emotions and the guys’ betrayal. I had no idea that I’m not alone on the balcony.
His strong, muscular arm shoots out before I can fully make it over the ledge and my body slams into the frozen stone. The hit rattles me to the core, and I scream out in pain as the impact knocks my breath from my chest. New tears trail over my cheeks and down my face. I’m sobbing, but I don’t sense any of that. No, all I feel is the harsh, unrelenting grip on my arm and then my injured, limp body being yanked back over the icy rail.
Gasping, I’m met with the furious glower of the face that has tormented me night and day no matter where I am. Sure, each boy is different, but their faces are all the same when it comes to the ache in my chest. Their hair may be different shades, their irises each their own, but that face, it’s all four in one. His hands move to clench both of my biceps in a bruising hold. Then he roars and shakes me so hard that my teeth rattle, the coldness seeping in with his movement.
“What. The. Fuck,” he hisses and the words leaving his mouth come out as white mist. His penetrating stare is intense, and the bulk of his massive frame towers over me, bigger than I remember. I’ve never witnessed him so angry before. Me being picked on at the academy made him protective plenty of times, but now...well, he looks like he may kill me himself.
Another ugly sob breaks free, and I hiccup. I’m a complete mess, inside and out. But he doesn’t look so good himself. Why did he stop me? Jumping would’ve solved so much of the hurt and treachery swirling through me at the moment.
“Let me go,” I whimper, a wilted flower in his intense shadow. He’s all-consuming, sucking the very life from me while in his hold.
“No. Fuck no,” he repeats passionately. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to give up. Fuck that!” his gravelly voice commands and my body gives in. The quakes overtake my body as the adrenaline leaves me, and then I’m left trembling in his hands. “Fuck!” he curses again, and then Brent’s mouth is on mine.<
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His kiss is brutal, punishing, as he pours his anger into me and doesn’t let up. All this time, he’s hinted at kissing me and yet it still hadn’t transpired. I’ve wanted it to every single day since the first time it nearly happened. It never did, no matter how much I silently pleaded for it, and he chooses now, of all times, just as I’m ready to give up on absolutely everything. He picks this moment to kiss me, and it’s like I’ve never been kissed before in my entire life.
He doesn’t claim my lips for his own; he fucking owns me in my entirety.
I can’t fight it either. Brent and his brothers have already beaten down my willpower to fight them. I tried in the beginning, but it was no use...and now? His mouth tells a different story. His lips say that I’m his, that I always have been, and that there’s no way I can ever escape his hold.
My hands clutch at his finely-crafted sweater, taking his kiss and begging for more. My fingers eventually open and release the material as realization hits that I’m twisting my tongue with the enemy’s. My fists move, beating against him to make him free me. It’s no use. He’s a boulder, and I’m tiny compared to him. I couldn’t hurt him or move him no matter how hard I tried. He can keep me as long as he deems fit, no matter how much I hurt inside at their true intentions toward me.
His palms move, one resting at the back of my neck and anchoring me in place. His other wraps around my back, holding my chilled, quivering body to his heat. His tongue twists and taunts, encouraging its own game with my body. I’ve never seen him kiss another girl, and yet he kisses as if he were created to do nothing else.
His unshaven whiskers rub against the skin surrounding my lips as his mouth moves and his head tilts, seemingly not getting enough of me. The scratchiness and brisk breeze burn my tender flesh, but I revel in it. I’m finally feeling something other than entirely shattered. I feel alive for the first time since the night of my engagement party.
I’d been waiting, anticipating...hoping he’d eventually give in and kiss me. I’ve kissed every brother at this point. I should feel like a total whore, but I don’t, even though my father would argue that fact. If anything, it seems right. I feel like all along it was supposed to be all of them—not just one. None of that means anything, though, no matter how breathless Brent’s kiss makes me. They’ve ruined any possible chance we could’ve had together.
Moments evolve into minutes as he completely consumes my mouth along with any noise that attempts to escape. He’s kissing me, and I’m still crying. I’m shocked and turned on all at once, and that’s even more confusing. Let’s not forget that I’m also disgusted with myself. How can I feel these things—these emotions—with all four of them? Especially after I’d discovered the terrible plan they had in place from the moment their father caught wind of me.
I can’t comprehend why they went to so much trouble with the proposal and such. Were they going to kill me off in the end or actually make me go through with marrying Tristan while his father destroyed my family? Was I supposed to just step aside and watch it all happen with nothing to say for it? My little brother and my mother’s lives would be nothing. They’d have to sell off any asset they could find around the house just to purchase a loaf of bread. The quads are sick and twisted, and I should hate them. I should... And even though I should, it’s not true hate coating my soul.
“Stop. Stop. Brent, stop,” I keep repeating every time Brent’s lips tilt a different way until finally, he pulls back, releasing his lock on my mouth. I didn’t actually want him to stop, but every bit of me inside was screaming at me to put an end to it. “I hate you,” I whisper with a pitiful whimper. My lip quivers, now that he’s not punishing me with his vicious kiss.
“I know you do, sweetie, and that’s just fine. If you despise me, then at least you’re not jumping off fucking balconies. Never let me catch you trying to pull that shit again. I mean it, Kres. NEVER AGAIN!”
“Get away from me.”
“Not a chance. We need to talk… Not just you and me, but my brothers as well.”
“Fuck your brothers! There is no you and me. There is no them and me, and there never will be. Not with any of you. Just let me go. Why should you care if I jump? It’s not like it would stop your father from destroying my family.”
“It wasn’t a request, Kresley. We’ll be discussing this…now! No more waiting around.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore,” I proclaim, trying to act braver than I actually feel when I’m faced with the biggest and meanest out of the four.
His penetrating gaze doesn’t leave my face as he steps into my frame even closer and stares down at me. His irises are tormented with so much emotion; it makes me want to give in and pull him to me, but I won’t. Brent’s like Fort Knox on a good day, always keeping everything tightly locked away. Today, however, he’s allowing me to catch a tiny glimpse that everything may not be right with him at this moment. I can’t help but hope he’s experiencing some aspect of turmoil, though I doubt any of them are even remotely feeling guilty for using me and parading me around as some fool.
Brent’s hands drop away, but one remains at the small of my back as he growls, “Bullshit! I’ll tell your sexy little ass what the fuck to do, and you’ll listen.”
“Or what?” I scream, finally losing the brief hold I’d managed to have on my emotions. I want the boys to see me angry and hateful—nothing else. Definitely not this damaged mess. They don’t deserve to have me any other way.
His fingers fly to my face, his punishing grasp on my chin in place once again. “Or I’ll keep you to myself, if necessary. I’ll strap you to my fucking bed if you decide to ignore me any longer. I’ve had enough. I said we’re talking about what went down, Kresley, and I meant it. This ends now.” His tone is gravely and final, no room for argument. He’s so utterly beautiful while demanding my attention that it makes it hard to even attempt to stand up for myself, but I refuse to be weak any longer. I should have stuck to my plans from the beginning of the year and never allowed them to get so close. I’m a fool for being so damn distracted by them.
Brent’s fingers move from my chin, his thumb caressing my swollen lower lip before it drops and he tows me toward the balcony doors. I don’t want to go back inside; I wanted to end all of this by simply jumping and leaving all of my problems behind. The man beside me won’t allow it, though, and he’s far too strong and imposing for me to fight him on it. I can try, but even I’m not dumb enough to believe I could possibly get past him or be quick enough to make it over the railing.
Thrusting me inside, the heat assaults me as he reaches back and slams the intricately carved wood and stained-glass doors behind us. They’re beautiful, depicting a light colorful display of angels along the bottom. The magnificence is nothing like you’d see in anyone else’s offices, so it’s fitting the guys would have it in theirs. Spoiled rich assholes.
My eyes collide with three pairs of apprehensive looks, and I quickly turn my head to the side. I’d rather stare at the shiny, hand-scraped hardwood flooring than at their gorgeous, lying faces.
“We know what your father did to you,” Brent gruffly informs as he pushes my shoulders until I’m forced to sit in the plush, high-back leather chair.
Tristan, Brent, Axel, and Cole are all here. The four boys who managed to demolish my heart in one night. They did it without me knowing they’d stolen the organ in the first place until it was far too late to put a stop to any of it. Why they’re stubbornly surrounding me now and pretending to give a shit is beyond me. I figured they’d have grown more reserved, and indifferent toward me than they were the last time I saw them.
With a petulant huff, I roll my eyes. I’m going for nonchalant when I’m feeling anything but that. It’s not like they just witnessed me attempting to throw myself from their balcony or anything. I’m pretty confident that this is what rock bottom feels like, and it sucks. I’ve always considered myself to be a strong person, but with these four, I’m nothing of the sort.<
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I couldn’t walk for a week after I’d confronted Father and informed him of the truth. Week two, I was still crying out in pain when I moved around. With nearly a month of healing, along with Father intercepting and stalling the de Lacharrieres, he’d dragged me across the street to apologize for my ungrateful behavior.
After a month filled with pain inside and out, you’d think I wouldn’t be so quick to fling myself off a few stories or see the quads, but it appears I’m a glutton for punishment these days. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve any of this, though. That’s the kicker. Father didn’t have to bring me far to grovel either. I guess the boys have been staying in their old, temporary house since I’d left the party out at the massive new mansion. Why they chose to remain here rather than the comfort of their new house, I’ll never know.
I’d stupidly pleaded my case. I attempted to warn father of their plans, but he thought I was the one being deceitful about it all. To this day, he’s still perpetrating that I’m a lying, ungrateful brat. He stubbornly believes that I pulled an unnecessary stunt on that horrifying night because I didn’t—and still don’t—want to go through with the impending wedding. If he’d only trust me, he’d realize that the plans our families have gone over, and the entire charade is nothing but a big fat farce.
After I’d “fallen” down the stairs and the physician came by several times to check on me, my father threatened to beat me worse and medicate me if necessary to see this engagement and wedding through. I’ve quickly learned to shut my mouth and hold my true feelings inside, out of self-preservation. Father would have probably killed me if I’d kept speaking, so I simply stopped and turned in on myself. I naively thought at one time that he’d eventually be happy and accept me, rather than just tolerate my presence. I was wrong about him and everything else. There’s nothing I can do to make him change, and that’s okay because I want nothing to do with him as soon as possible.
Ugly Dark Truth Page 3