by CY Jones
A part of me doesn’t want to care, but another part, one I don’t fully understand, also doesn’t want anyone else touching or hurting her. I’m already fighting my desire for her. Cody’s right. I want to fuck her just as badly as he does. Her gorgeous face and lush body, with curves in all the right places call out to me like a siren. She’s perfection, but she’s also a monster, and as long as I remember that, I should be able to maintain my distance.
It feels like I just fell asleep when I startled awake by screaming. Jumping out my bed, I run into the hall and follow the screams to Remy’s room. When I get there, I find her tossing and turning in bed with her sheets wrapped around her tight body.
“Remy,” I yell, rushing to her bed and straddling her while I fight to pin her arms down.
Fuck, this girl is strong. “Remy,” I try again, watching as her eyes fly open. Her deep turquoise depths stare a black hole right through my green ones. The fear and vulnerability I see in them threatens to undo me. Our faces are mere inches apart, and we both just gaze into each other’s eyes while she tries to calm her breathing. Her heaving breaths make me acutely aware that I’m straddling her wearing only my boxers, and she’s in her bra and panties. As her chest rises and falls, my cock hardens as I think about how we’re in the perfect position for me to sink into her lush body and fuck her nightmares away.
Her scent intoxicates me, drawing me in like a siren to sea, and I lower my head, barely brushing her soft, pink lips with the lightest of touches. When she doesn’t stop me, I take her mouth with mine, kissing her like a starving man and grinding my body against hers. When her legs wrap around me, I lose it, a deep growl rumbling out of me, and moving my hand lower toward her pussy. I want her. I want to spend all night kissing and fucking her senseless.
“Whoa, am I interrupting?” Cody asks smugly from the doorway.
His intrusion breaks whatever spell we’re both under, and we jump apart like we’ve been burned.
“She was having a nightmare, and I came in here to wake her,” I tell him, now breathing hard myself.
“Is that what you were doing, mate?” Cody asks, nodding at my prominent erection with a smirk as he leans against the door frame.
“Whatever, she’s fine now,” I mutter, jumping off the bed and shoving past Cody, storming down the hall to my own room. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking, and that’s the problem. Sinking back into my bed, my tired ass falls back asleep, hoping my brain will function correctly in the morning and stop listening to my dick.
Eight
I didn’t choose this life. It chose me
Remy
When I wake the next morning, I find a new set of clothes laying on the dresser, waiting for me. It feels weird for someone other than my brother to care for me, especially a father figure. O’Donnell was always cold to us. Too busy to bother spending time with us. From the time we were born until twelve years old, a nanny or one the house staff cared for us. Our childhoods weren’t filled with fun and games, but instead filled with martial arts training, weapons training, and any other skill in which we showed potential, like my brother’s coding and my technical devices.
At the ripe age of five, we already knew how to to properly handle and fire a wide range of handguns and assault rifles, as well as the many different ways to build and disassemble a bomb. Now I knew the real reason behind O’Donnell absence in our lives and why it seemed like he hated us. We weren't even his. It takes a special brand of sick fuck to steal someone’s kids, raise them as your own, and teach them to kill their biological fathers. There’s a special place in hell for men like Patrick O’Donnell.
Going into the bathroom, I try and fail at avoiding looking at Hunter’s door. I can’t believe how close I let him get to me. I was so lost in my pain from the past that when he gazed at me with so much want and compassion, I couldn’t help lowering my guard and giving into the fierce need that’s been rising and pushing me to claim him as my own. Who knows what would have happened if Cody hadn’t interrupted us? Hell, that’s a lie. I know exactly what would have happened. I would have let him hate fuck my brains out, and judging by the size of his erection, be screaming for another reason. One born of pleasure instead of pain.
I need to forget about Hunter and ignore the persistent pull I feel towards him and Cody, or at least put what almost happened on the back burner for now. We’re a team, and we all need to focus on saving my brother’s sorry behind. Turning the water all the way to hot, I try to forget about the boy with captivating emerald green eyes that may or may not hate me.
By the time I come downstairs, I catch wind of a whispered conversation that stops as soon as I walk through the kitchen door.
“Talking about me, boys?” I drawl, grabbing a shiny red apple off the island counter.
“You’re not that important,” Hunter promptly answers, looking everywhere but at me.
“Ouch,” I reply, actually hurt by Hunter’s thoughtless comment. Turning away, I’m suddenly fascinated examining every detail of my apple.
“We need to go if we plan on making the briefing on time,” Cody says, narrowing his eyes at Hunter before shooting me an apologetic look. Maybe last night was just a dream. I can’t believe I let a wanker like Hunter touch me.
“Yeah, you’re right, mate,” I say, walking away and making sure my mask is firmly in place, hardening my body and my heart.
“Dude, you’re such an arse,” I hear Cody tell Hunter as he follows me out the kitchen.
I don’t wait for either of them as I stride out the front door and walk briskly towards the compound. I maintain my brisk pace and don’t stop until I’m inside, unsure of where to go for the briefing. Catching up to me, Cody takes my arm leading me to a hall in the opposite direction from where we were yesterday, and we stop at a set of elevators.
“I’m sorry about Hunter,” Cody says, as he rubs tiny circles on top of my hand.
“Don’t apologise for him,” I growl, yanking my hand free. I don’t want Cody’s pity. I should have known last night was a fluke. I am a plague, afterall. Who the hell wants to get close to me? Just as the elevator doors open, Hunter catches up to us, and we all ride up to the sixth floor in stony silence. The whole ride up Hunter and I both make sure we stand as far away from each other as we possibly can in the enclosed space. Hunter runs out as if the elevator’s on fire as soon as the doors open, practically sprinting to the board room.
Once we’re seated, Conner looks over at me with a bright smile.
“Did you sleep well, sweetheart?” he asks.
“I slept alright,” I tell him. Apparently I’m not convincing enough because a frown overcomes his usual carefree face, and he looks between Hunter and Cody who both show a modicum of intelligence, avoiding his gaze.
“What is this meeting about?” I ask, changing the subject. We do not have time to discuss all the reasons why Hunter is such a dick.
“Well, for starters we would like to know where you’re going,” Caleb answers while his brother stares daggers at Hunter and Cody.
“London, England. A club there called Blue Skittles,” I answer, turning my focus on the still dark sky through the window.
“Of course. I love you more than blue skittles and oreos,” Caleb quotes the last line in Row’s message.
“Yeah. Row is such a weirdo. He’s not into sweets, and he actually hates chocolate. Total shocker, I know. He knew only I would make that connection,” I ramble as I continue to stare out the window.
It reminds me of the floor to ceiling windows back at the compound in Russia. The ones no longer standing because of O’Donnell and the destruction he creates everywhere he goes.
“And oreo, who or what is that?” Caleb asks.
“The person we’ll contact once we’re there,” I answer, never lifting my gaze from the window. At this early hour, the sun is starting to rise, and I watch as the sky lightens, bleeding into brilliant colors of orange, pink, yellow, and blue. It’s beautiful, an
d I want to take time to appreciate it, to forget about my own mess of a life.
“Are you sure you want to go?” Caleb asks. He seems uneasy. For once, he’s not trying to hide his emotions. He seems to care for me, and for the life of me, I can’t fathom why. I may be his daughter by blood, but it’s not like he knows me. If he knew the true monster hiding beneath my skin, he would run away screaming.
Turning away from the window, I gaze into the two pair of eyes so much like mine, and with conviction I tell them both, “Yes. Row needs me. He can’t do this alone. Not with them after him.” No need for me to elaborate on who ‘them’ is. They all know I’m referring to The Circus.
“Caleb and I were talking, and we both came to the conclusion that we should go with you,” Conner says suddenly.
“No,” I say cutting that idea off as quickly as it formed.
“And why bloody not?” Conner yells, losing his composure.
“You coming will make it a five person mission. A party that large will draw unwanted attention. It’s bad enough you’re making me take these two,” I huff, waving my hand over at Hunter and Cody. “I’ll be fine. The Circus fears me more than I do them, trust me.”
The silence between us all is heavy. I watch as Conner’s emotions flicker across his face, when he finally relents. “Fine. Tell me more about this Circus. With us providing surveillance intel, Caleb and I can help from here, since you refuse to let us go with you.”
Over the next few hours we go over every minute detail and description I can recall about The Circus.
“Like most of the agents who work for O’Donnell, he finds them young. Children whose parents have died or abandoned them to the foster system. Ideally he looks for runaway teens living on the streets with no where else to go. He lures them in with promises of some great new life and then corrupts them, teaching them all the how to’s of becoming murderers and thieves. The Queen of Hearts and Mad Hatter are siblings. They grew up with us, and they’ve been with O’Donnell almost as long as we have.
“The Queen is demented and an absolute fucking psycho. Out of all of us, she’s the one most like O’Donnell, so much so that it’s surprising they don’t actually share DNA. They even look alike, with their red hair and olive green eyes. She’s just as twisted as he is, and she actually enjoys killing. She worships the ground O’Donnell walks on. To her, O’Donnell is nothing less than a God. Her weapon of choice is a garrote, which she wears as a bracelet wrapped around her wrist. As you can imagine, her moniker came about from her calling card- beheading her victims. If she catches you in close combat, well then, off with your head.” I slash my finger across my throat for dramatic effect.
“Her brother is one year younger than she is, and he’s less demented, though maybe still a tad bit insane He’s…,” I stop talking and try to think of words to explain my Maddie.
“He’s what, sweetheart?” Conner prompts me to continue.
“Maddie is misunderstood,” I finally say, sighing as memories of Maddie wash over me. I watch the twins’ expressions change from concern to understanding at hearing the nickname I gave Hatter years ago.
“This boy. Were you two close?” Caleb asks softly.
Close isn’t nearly a good enough word to describe what Maddie means to me. We grew up together, and we’re as thick as thieves. We were each other's first everything. My first friend, first kiss, the one I gave my virginity to, and the first out of all of us to realise Patrick O’Donnell wasn’t the savior he claimed to be, but instead, an evil bastard. A chill ripples through my body thinking about the day O’Donnell caught me and Maddie together. The things he made us do afterwards as punishment. Those were memories I would never tell anyone. Maddie was a personal string that if exposed could unravel and eventually destroy me.
Clearing my throat, I continue. “Like I said before, we grew up together. He’s the only one out of the whole band of misfits O’Donnell forced together that Row and I actually consider a friend. He’s just two years older than us, so we were all pretty close. Maddie is nothing like his sister. He doesn’t enjoy killing. Like me and my brother, he does it to survive, because he doesn’t have a choice. None of us do. He hates O’Donnell. Where his sister worships the ground O’Donnell walks on, Maddie would much prefer to kill him in his sleep.
“He’s capable of wielding any weapon, and just like me, he’s techie smart, able to make use of any device like Macgyver. But he truly excels in biological warfare. His weapon of choice is poison, and he’s invented many clever instruments to administer the poison. For kicks and giggles, he often forces his victims to partake in a tea party, where by the end of it, the poor victim dies.”
“Sounds like a lovely family you got there, princess,” Hunter pipes up, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he interrupts me.
I don’t know why I keep letting him get to me, but his words cut me like glass, and they seem to always find a way to pierce my hardened shell, bleeding me. How dare he judge me? He knows nothing about what I’ve been through. He has no clue what happens when you attempt to deny Patrick O’Donnell what he wants.
“You know what, Hunter? I’m so tired of your self-righteousness,” I growl. “I know you hate me. I get it, I really do. Sometimes I even hate myself, but I can’t help how or with whom I was raised. I can’t help that I was never given a choice. I didn’t choose this life. He chose it for me, forced it upon me so stop shaming me for everything I did to make it somewhat bearable. The world isn’t as black and white as you think it is. The color that seeps in through the cracks isn’t always good, so stop pointing a finger at me about all the shite I had to do in order to just to survive.”
I’m pissed at myself for letting him know just how much he got to me. I’ve shown my hand and laid myself bare. This has never happened to me before. I’ve never given two shites what anybody thought of me before, but sitting here now, I realise I care what Hunter thinks.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say as I rush out the door.
Nine
All traces of Remy are gone, and in her place, Shadow the girl we know and fear
Hunter
I should have kept my big fucking mouth shut. Everything she said was right. She didn’t choose to be a murderer. Patrick O’Donnell made her that way, and I just had to keep shoving my opinions in her face. This time I lashed out because of jealousy. The way she talked about Hatter. That soft, wistful look that appeared on her face. I could tell that she cared for him. Maybe even loved him. Some selfish part of me wanted her to care about me too. To have that same love shine in her eyes for me like it did for him. Now I’ve not only hurt her, but any chance I may have had, though maybe it’s for the best.
“Did I miss something?” Caleb asks. I don’t answer him. I can’t. I’m already disappointed in myself, I don’t need to add his too. Instead, I listen to the seconds tick by on the old clock on the wall and wait for Remy to return.
“Well, since you seem like you’re done talking, then let me share a little something with you. A piece of Remy’s past that we found out from her brother. One of the many reasons he was so desperate to get her away from O’Donnell, that he would risk both their lives by coming to us, and trust me, it had nothing to do with him being our biological son. Did you know she has no feeling in her hands?”
My head snaps up. When Caleb sees he has my attention, he continues.
“All the nerves in her hands are completely shot to hell, and do you know how that happened, especially to someone like her?” Caleb taunts. When I shake my head, he narrows his eyes at me like he’s lecturing a child. With the way I’ve been acting, maybe he was.
“She was tortured with a taser. O’Donnell had his enforcer pump thousands upon thousands of volts of electricity into her small body until she passed out, then he woke her and did it again, and again. It resulted in her losing all feeling in her hands.”
I’m going to be sick.
“Rowen told us she was only thirteen when O’Donnell did tha
t to her. As horrifying as that is it pales in comparison to some of the other sick things he told us about. The point of me telling you this is, you really shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover. You should take a look at what’s inside first before you cast judgement. It may surprise you. I know what happened to your family, son, and you have my sympathy, but you can’t live your life blaming Remy. Focus your hate on the true culprit, O’Donnell.”
I don’t get the chance to apologise before Remy walks back in through the door with a determined look on her face.
“We need to get a move on if we’re going to have any chance of catching up to my brother at the second location,” she says, toneless. All traces of Remy are gone, and in her place, Shadow, the girl we all know and fear, and her appearances is all my fault. Me and my big mouth. I did this to her.
“Yeah, you should go, and here, before I forget,” Conner says, pulling a black duffel bag out from under the table.
“‘What’s that?” Remy asks in a heavy English accent like her fathers’, once again adapting to her surroundings.
“All the weapons you had on you the other night, as well as a couple of new ones from us,” Conner tells her smiling.
“Thanks,” Remy replies, taking the bag.
“The private jet is at your disposal. Just keep us updated when you can. There's also a couple of burner phones and other supplies you might need in the bag too,” Conner informs us as we walk to the door.
Saying our goodbyes, we leave the Daniel twins, with Caleb giving me a parting nod to remind me of what he said before we leave. How could I forget?
Ten
You know, Vixen, having you around is going to be so much fun
Remy