Beautiful Tyrant (Enemies to Lovers - Dark Romance Book 3)

by C. P. Mandara

  My clock is ticking down to ground zero, but that doesn't mean I have to take everyone else with me.

  Chapter Two - Brandt

  'Please don't do this, Mal,' Harper whispers miserably. 'Take me home. We can have some fun together there. Don't leave me alone with these monsters.' Her face is pale and her eyes are lifeless. I want to believe that all her earlier words were an act, but my head is all over the place. Which side is the woman on? It takes me a moment to get the facts straight, but when I do I'm sure of my answer.

  Mine; if she wasn't I'd already be dead. As it is, we're going to be lucky to pull ourselves out of here alive. I can't say she didn't warn me. Why didn't I listen?

  'Baby, you know I love it when you bleed for me, and I haven't seen you in ages, 'ave I? Do this for me, sweetheart. You know how this shit turns me on.' Mal grabs one of her bruised ass cheeks and squeezes cruelly. I want to lump him.

  In response Harper nods slowly. This is not acquiescence. She knows she has no choice. She's played this game before. You sick fucker, I think, but wisely keep my mouth shut. The less said the better.

  Mal turns to feast his dark eyes on me. 'Brandt, why don't you 'ave a turn with the whip? It's time to get your own back, buddy.' He looks pointedly at Gabriel, who has a firm death grip on the thing and looks very unhappy at the thought of relinquishing it. He's not convinced by Harper's innocence, and he wouldn't mind ripping into her given half a chance. He doesn't know her like I do. Gabriel thinks everyone is a liar until proven otherwise.

  Reluctantly he offers the whip to me. I take it and wince; my back is a mess. Now I have to do the same to Harper, and the thought turns my stomach. She has been through enough. This has to stop.

  Placing the whip carefully down on the bed, I climb up and straddle her. I think I do it to antagonise the bastard sitting beside her, which is pretty stupid, all things considered, but then again, he's the one sitting there waiting to watch other men fuck 'his girl'. If Harper was mine I wouldn't let anyone near her.

  As it happens Mal doesn't say a thing, but he watches me carefully. He's worried I'm about to pull something stupid, but he can rest easy. I'm being a good boy. I'm not going to get a chance to take the bastard out today, but when I do, I'm going to do the job properly. The man is going down like a hooker in an orgy. He's going to hit the floor hard, too.

  Lightly brushing my fingertips up Harper's back, I make my presence known. I need to unfasten the cuffs she's wearing, otherwise her arms will be in the way. Grabbing the key from the table, I slip it into the lock and remove them, but when I set them down on the bed Mal is not happy.

  'Keep her cuffed. If she can move she'll be running around the room wailing. I want to see her properly punished.'

  My jaw stiffens. This means he wants us to mess her up bad, and that's exactly what I'm afraid of. If he takes her away almost crippled with pain, she won't stand a chance at being able to defend herself. Who am I kidding? She stands no chance against the fucker anyway. None of us do.

  'I can't whip her back if her arms are in the way,' I say. The cuffs are redundant, anyway. I know Harper won't move once I start laying into her. It's not her style. She'll take everything that's coming, like the meek little lamb Mal has trained her to be. No wonder the poor girl is so screwed up. Getting him out of her head will probably take years of therapy. There's also another reason. If she isn't cuffed we stand a chance at escape. If the guards take it in shifts to babysit us during the night, there might be an opportunity for Gabriel and me to take them on. If Harper is tied up it will make an escape attempt far more difficult.

  'Then cuff her 'ands to the headboard, idiot. It's not rocket science. Wait, my mistake, it probably is for you.' That little barb isn't even worth my time. Mal is hardly the smartest man on the planet if he's dealing crack cocaine and heroin, is he?

  'Grip the headboard,' I order. My voice is sharp. If Harper's acting I need to follow suit. There's a reason she's doing what she's doing, and I'm sure she'll explain it to me when she gets a chance, but I can probably already join up the dots. Mal is jealous, and if he suspects Harper and I are anything but enemies my life will expire faster than the average celebrity marriage.

  Harper obeys instantly. Now I know why she barely batted an eyelid at all the crazy shit I pulled on her when I first brought her to the house. What I did was child's play compared to the stuff she's had to suffer under Mal. I feel like a jerk. If I'd talked to her at the beginning, instead of going gung ho on her, I could have figured this all out and been halfway to Bali by now.

  The handcuffs close around her wrists, pinning them in place. Thankfully I can't see her face as it's pressed into the pillow because if I did, my resolve would probably evaporate in an instant. Gabriel is better at this sort of shit. The man doesn't have a conscience. Unfortunately, I do, and if Harper is telling me the truth, the last few days are going to sting when I think about them too carefully. Shit, shit, shit. Is there any way out of this mess?

  'I'm waiting, tough guy. Let's move it along now, shall we?' Mal brings me back into the here and now, standing up from his perch so he can watch me from a distance. It's always nice to make sure you have a great view just before some random bloke is about the beat the shit out of your girlfriend.

  Hovering over Harper, I feel a moment of indecision. Blinking, I try and clear my head and think about what I'm going to do next.

  'Don't hold back,' Harper murmurs, so quietly I can barely hear her. 'If he thinks you're holding back he'll get suspicious. I can take it.'

  I sit back and pick up the whip. I can feel both Gabriel and Mal's eyes on me, wondering what I'm about to do. A lot is riding on this. If we want to get out of here alive I need to play my part. So squaring my shoulders I get myself exactly where I need to be. For anyone wondering where that is, it's in a twelve by eight-foot prison cell with Micas standing opposite me.

  'Well, well, well,' I purr, donning some familiar armour, 'it appears I have you right where I want you, Miss Wilkinson.' Running the fronds of the whip gently down her back, I watch her shiver. I need to pad this out with as many actions and words as I can. The sooner Mal tires of this little production, the better.

  'Get away from me,' Harper grits, and she puts some real venom into the words. I wonder how much of her life has been an act in the last few years. If I had to bet, I'd say almost all of it. We have more in common than I thought.

  Bringing my hand down sharply I slap her ass.

  'Ah, I don't think so, precious. I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun in the next couple of hours. Isn't that right, Wilkinson?' I don't want to use her first name. It's easier to keep this impersonal if I use her surname. Later I'll just use something derogatory, but I can't call her Harper. If I do, every time I think of her after this episode will be marred with violence, and the thought is horribly sobering.

  'Mal, stop this madness,' Harper yells, and begins to rattle the bedframe. I'm sure the bastard is lapping it all up behind us, but we both know he isn't going to call a halt to the proceedings.

  Giving her another sharp slap I grab her ass, exactly as Mal had, and knead it with cruel pressure. After the spankings and Gabriel's belt she's going to go into meltdown when I tear into her, but we have no choice. We're out of options.

  'In a minute, I'm going to do just what we promised earlier. Both of us are going to fuck you in every hole you possess, and we aren't going to be gentle about it. We're going to eat you alive, Wilkinson, and we're going to make you scream.' There. That should keep the big dog happy.

  'Shut the fuck up and whip her.' Or not. Mal utters those words dryly, as if he's seen this all before, and if that's the case, why is he even bothering? Hell if I know. Maybe he's just a really impatient man. Still, the time for stalling is over. I've got to get on with it. Bringing my arm up, I flick the fronds of the whip forward with no warning. They connect on her lower back with a sharp crack, and she sucks in a breath. She can cope with that, but if I start on her ass she's go
ing to freak out. It's already a mess. I'm going to avoid that area at all costs. As it is, she'll be barely able to walk when I've finished. The only reason I'm moving is because I'm running on adrenaline. When that stops I'm going to be a cripple for the next few days.

  'What the fuck was that? Put some effort into it. If your best buddy could rip you to shreds, you should be able to make mincemeat of the most hated woman in your life, surely? Or is there something you're not telling me here?' Mal begins pacing up and down, which is never a good sign. This whole thing is a test. He wants to know if I still care about her. That's why she's being such a bitch. She wants to send the message out loud and clear that we can't stand each other. That way there may be a chance he'll let Gabriel and me go. It's not a good plan, though. I can't leave her in his hands. You only need to take one look at Mal to know what he's capable of, and I don't want to be within three miles of him. I need to get her out of here. If I can't do it now, I at least need to be alive to get the job done later, when I can gut the man like a fish. Actually, forget fish. I'm going to slice the bastard in two, and I'm going to start between his legs.

  Taking a big, theatrical sigh, I sit up and regard him carefully. I'm buggered if I'm going to kowtow to him. If he wants to shoot me, he can. Otherwise, I'm running this show.

  'Oh, she's going to get hers,' I say, 'but I like to start slow. If I rip into her right from the start she'll be in tears within seconds, and unconscious in minutes. No one is going to enjoy themselves very much if that happens, are they?' Mal inclines his head to the side as he takes that in. It's not what he was expecting. Good.

  'You really do hate her, huh? I always wondered if you harboured some idea of getting back together with her. She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?' If he's trying to keep me off guard it isn't working. I'm used to reading people and having eyes in the back of my head. It's one of the only reasons I'm still alive.

  'Oh no, I worship the ground she walks on,' I say sarcastically. 'Fucking slut had me put away for five years to cover up her shit. We're this close, we are.' I hold my hand in the air and cross my index and middle finger over one another. It's about the only way I can stick my middle finger up at him and get away with it.

  Mal's lips twist wryly. 'I told her you'd hate her guts. I'm rarely wrong.' Yeah, well, you royally screwed up this time, mastermind. We were tangled up in the bedsheets not moments ago.

  'What are you planning on doing to her, when I've finished with her? Is she going back to your castle, or have you had enough of her?' Turning away from Mal, I bring the whip down sharply on Harper's back, three times in quick succession. She screams out loud and her body goes rigid in shock. I feel like a complete bastard, but what choice do I have? There are guns everywhere. To do anything else would be suicide. If Harper can put me away for five years to save her hide, she can take a beating for mine - although it might kill me to deliver it.

  'You like inflicting pain, Browning?' Mal's behind me. The fucker is looking over my shoulder as I work. I want to spin round and smash my fist through his face, but that is not a good idea.

  'Is it that obvious?' I say instead, releasing another series of horrible volleys against Harper's back. I hope he stops this soon, but I have a terrible feeling he won't.

  'You were a weedy little thing when you were put inside,' he comments. 'I didn't think you'd last a month.'

  This confirms that everything Harper has told me is the truth. Mal wanted me put inside, and he wanted me dead. Interesting. I didn't realise I posed such a threat. I now know better. I need to watch myself around her; if we appear anything more than enemies I'm in trouble. It's all beginning to make sense.

  'Sorry to disappoint.' My voice is clipped.

  'My, you're a cold one. You're not what I was expecting.'

  I'd love to know what he was expecting. Fluffy bunnies, coupled with hearts and flowers?

  'So would you be after five years in jail,' I point out calmly. I then unleash my temper on Harper's back with a series of slices that would have the devil himself screaming in agony. Sure enough, Harper loses the plot.

  'Sure you want me to carry on?' I ask Mal. 'She's going to be virtually catatonic if I continue, but I'm game if you are.' I'm not. She will never forgive me for this, and I can't say I blame her. When I receive no response from Mal I take his silence as permission to continue. Drawing my hand back, I decide I'm going to keep at it, as hard as I can until she passes out. At least she won't have to be fucked over by two men at the end of it. There's some shit you can never wipe clean.

  'Stop.' Mal's voice rings out in the air, and his throaty tone makes my stomach lurch. Now what? 'Maybe you're right,' he continues. 'We want her wide awake for when you guys show her a good time, right?'

  Wrong. 'You want us to fuck her now?' My voice is devoid of all emotion. I don't want to give the bastard a thing.

  'Yes, but I want to make sure you two don't enjoy yourselves too much.' He smiles cruelly, which leaves me to believe I'm not going to like what comes next.

  'I think I want a little appetiser first. You and Gabriel; go fuck each other up. Let's see who's the last one standing.' He looks at me and waits. Mal would like nothing better than for me to come roaring at him with both fists blazing, but I do no such thing. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction.

  'Is the broken nose and massacred back not fucked up enough for you?' I enquire sweetly.

  Mal shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. For some reason I notice he's wearing suit pants. He's trying his best to be an upmarket thug, though the material and cut of the suit is cheap. These are things I'm trained to spot. Oh, the joys of being raised a snob. If Mal notices me checking him out, he doesn't react. I suspect he's got more important things on his mind.

  'Actually, no. Besides, there's method behind my madness. First, I want to see how you operate under pressure, and secondly I want to see if you can 'andle yourself. You're of no use to me if you can't hold your own in a fight.'

  I snort. 'No one can hold themselves against Gabriel, but you'll figure that out in a minute. Get the body bag ready.' Standing up, I throw the whip back down on the bed, and try to ignore the sound of Harper's sobs. Less than a day ago the sound of her cries turned me on, but right now they make me sick to my stomach, especially as I'm the one who's caused them.

  Facing Gabriel, I get ready to take a pounding. He's faster, stronger, and far more agile than I am. Add to that a decent background in martial arts, and the battle was already won, even before someone took a chunk out of my back and smacked me in the nose. I know why Mal is doing this, and it's not for the reasons he's just stated. He wants to check that Harper really is as impervious as she appears to be. If I'm lying on the floor bleeding out, there's a chance she might crack. It's possible I'm wrong, but I doubt it.

  Gabriel is now standing in front of me, hesitating. He knows I'm likely to go down quick, and he also knows if he lays me out cold, he's on his own. That's his problem. I'm kind of looking forward to taking a nap.

  When he stands there motionless for a few more seconds, I decide to give him some helpful words of encouragement. 'Come on, big guy. Hit me. I know you can.' Those fucking abs are staring at me, framed by his black pyjama bottoms. My gaze is drawn to them helplessly. I've worshipped his body more times than I care to count, and I have to confess I miss it a little. The man is a god in bed, there are no two ways about it.

  Gabriel rolls his eyes at me, but he puts his fists up in front of his chest and adopts his fighting stance. While it's clear he doesn't want to do this, he's going to. Whether it's to save my hide or his own is anybody's guess. At the moment I don't care. I just need him to get on with it.

  The first punch that swings my way misses, and for that I can be grateful. Gabriel's hand almost flies into the wall due to the power behind it, but he recovers just in time. He's good like that. I've yet to see anyone get the better of him in a fistfight. But when the second punch comes my way I'm not so lucky. This one connects with a sha
ttering crunch into my jaw. My teeth snap together and my eyes water. Pain splinters up the bone and congregates in my head, giving me a motherfucker of a headache, and we've barely even started. I have a feeling that when this is finished it's going to take someone days to scrape what's left of me up off the floor.

  'Come on 'Arper, sit up and enjoy the show.' My head swings round at Mal's voice. He's unlocking her cuffs so he can prop her up and make her watch. Just as I suspected, his motivation isn't quite what it seems to be. As my head turns back to check for the fist that is almost certain to be heading my way, I find it's already hurtling towards my left eye. Gabriel is on a mission to show Mal who's boss around these parts. Jerking my head backwards to try and avoid some of the blow, his knuckles connect just below my eye socket and have me stumbling backwards. Before I have a chance to recover I feel the heel of his foot crunch into my upper right thigh, and I stagger backwards, nearly dropping to my knees. I don't think he realises how powerful his feet are. The man is a killing machine and he has the cold-blooded temperament to match. Will he kill me? Is this what we've come to?

  Gabriel delivers another series of kicks and punches, all with his uninjured right leg, which are carefully timed to make sure they do the maximum amount of damage. My body is exploding in pain and I can barely think, let alone move, but I somehow manage to push my head forward and use all the anger bubbling up inside me to hit Gabriel square in the chest. If he is going to kill me, I want to get one in before I send a cheery wave to the man upstairs, or downstairs, because these days I'm not entirely sure where I'm headed.