“Are you going to call me fucked-up, too?” I demanded.
“You’re forgetting one thing, boy.”
“I’m not a child. I’m a twenty-one-year-old adult.” I hadn’t forgotten the fact that Nick was drawn to the beautiful and damaged.
Nick said nothing for a few moments. He glared at the traffic ahead of us as if it could give him answers. “I’m not asking you again.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
We drove in silence for the rest of the way. I fidgeted with my hands, nervous, wondering what propelled me to beg my captor’s brother to take me home. Nick drove to the outskirts of the city, to a residential neighborhood I’d never been before. The single-story houses stood quite a distance from another, giving residents the ultimate privacy—the perfect place to keep a slave, who would never see the light of day again.
I shivered, staring at Nick’s dilapidated house. The grass grew wild, in need of a good trimming. The fences needed mending, the house repainting. Everything inch of the property screamed of negligence, and I wondered if Nick really lived here. I jumped in my seat when Nick rapped his knuckles on the car window. When had he gotten out? Warily, I rolled the glass down.
“Get inside or get out of the car and start walking, I don’t care,” Nick said.
I watched his retreating back for a couple of seconds. He fished out the keys to the house. Once he turned the lock and slammed the front door shut, I knew he’d no longer extend the welcome. I scrambled out of the car and went after him. Rational thought should compel me to take the other option.
Walk, Nick said, but to where, back to the city? What awaited me there? What would I do then? I’d return to the apartment Tony and I shared, blabbering some excuse and tell him Noah and I were done. He’d cheer. We’d head out and celebrate. Every second I pretended I was normal I’d be killing the remaining parts of my tattered soul Noah hadn’t wrecked.
After everything, the lies and deception, I’d lock myself in my room and curl into a pathetic ball.
I couldn’t tell Tony the truth. What happened would be a secret I’d carry to my grave. Only Nick would understand. Ally, savior, Noah’s brother—what else was he to me?
What I wanted, what I dared dream of when night came, I couldn’t tell Nick to his face.
Nick called Noah and himself monsters. What could I call myself when I wanted Nick to take charge, buckle a collar around my throat and lead me by the leash?
I wasn’t attracted to Nick out of gratefulness. I didn’t slap the role of white knight to him. I knew better. When the dark closed in around him from all sides, Nick reached out for me. Not to lead me back to the light, but to a different kind of darkness to play in.
Clambering up the stairs leading to the porch of Nick’s house, I panted. Nick held out the door for me. I walked in, out of my accord. He gripped the back of my neck, giving it a squeeze, and I wondered if we shared the same image in our heads—me wearing his collar around my neck.
Chapter Six
Julian
He released me. I stumbled on the last few steps in. Nick bolted the door, pressed his back against the wood and regarded me, probably wondering what to do with me.
“What next?” I asked, surprised by the sound of my own voice.
For the past three days, all I’d been able to make were animal noises. Grunts, pants, and pleas, but I had a feeling I’d love it when this man teased a scream out of me.
He had an answer ready. I didn’t expect that. “Spare bedroom’s through there, past the living room and kitchen. I sleep in the master’s. There are some clothes in the drawer that can fit you, too.”
“Nick.” I hesitated. “What’s this place? Is this really your house?”
Nick crooked his finger, a universal gesture asking me to follow. He led me into the living room. The huge crucifix commanded the center of attention, Christ bloody and the expression not one of agony, but bliss.
Nick nodded to the shelves containing books and framed photographs, and I tore my attention from the cross to the photos. Dust clung to the wood. I peered at each one. A happy family stared back at me.
Father, mother, and two boys—a complete set. Envy rammed into me, reminding of what I never had.
“What point are you trying to make?” I asked.
“Look closer.”
Frowning, I studied the images again. Dark hair, gray eyes, the two boys looked nearly identical. Probably mistaken for twins often—Noah and Nick, but that wasn’t what Nick meant. Look closer. The man wore a police uniform in one photo. A cop? How could a man of the law protect others but hurt his own family?
The woman had circles under her eyes and wore a long-sleeved dress, a necklace of black and blue peering from underneath her collar. The boys weren’t spared either. Fake smiles plastered their faces. Jackets barely covered more bruises and tiny perfect circles I knew could only be caused by one thing—cigarette burns. In each photo, Noah and Nick smiled at the camera. They wore the marks of their father’s abuse like badges of honor.
“Noah and I grew up here. We moved here after Dad lost his job at the station. Rent was cheaper. Dad liked to put on his uniform, even though he no longer had the right, and he grew too fat for it,” Nick said conversationally.
Nick came up behind him, presence sucking up the air in the room and making it hard to breathe. I didn’t flinch when he pulled me close and surprised the hell out of me by pulling me into an embrace. Nuzzling my neck, he breathed in my scent as if he could chase away the bad memories the photos invoked.
“What happened?” My stomach churned.
I didn’t want to know. I shouldn’t pry either, but I couldn’t help myself. The hunger to understand Noah and Nick consumed me, distracted me from my own pain.
“One night, Noah and I couldn’t take it any longer. Our father’s screams melded with our mother’s sobs, turned into an unrecognizable mess. He could have killed her, if we hadn’t intervened. Noah took out Grandpa’s old hunting rifle. He missed on the first shot, but I didn’t miss,” Nick said.
A gun, old but well-maintained, rested on the lowest shelf, and seeing it made me shudder. I could imagine a young and skinny Noah, holding the weapon with shaking hands. I could see it tumbling on the ground and Nick scooping it up.
“You see, Julian?” Nick tightened his arms around me. “Do you want to run now that you know you’re inside a house that bred monsters?”
“Noah and you weren’t monsters. You were kids back then, defending your mother.”
Nick let out a harsh laugh. He licked the side of my neck, leaving a bite on it I wanted to graze with my thumb. I’d been marked plenty of times before, by other Doms, by Noah, but the souvenirs they left behind on my body didn’t feel intimate. Nick could be kind or cruel at the flick of the switch, a potent combination. I craved both—light and dark, tenderness and pain. Most of all, I craved Nick. Call me crazy, but I did.
“You taste so fucking sweet, Julian. Too good to play in the dark.”
“The dark is where I found my true self,” I whispered. “You know nothing about me.”
“I know enough.”
Nick held my wrist to the light, thumbing the rope burns, before lifting them to his lips for a kiss. He released me. The moment our bodies parted from each other, cold caressed my skin and seeped into my bones.
Stubborn bastard.
I knew Nick had showed me the photos, told me bits of his past and Noah’s to scare me away, but I wasn’t the least bit daunted. When Noah asked me if I was ready to take the next step with him, I’d hesitated, regretting the decision the moment I got into his car. With Nick, I became certain, confident I needed his possession to set my life straight again.
“Where are you going?” I demanded, eyes narrowing when he fished out his keys and headed for the door.
“Getting us dinner, will pizza do? Also, if you decide to change your mind, I’ll leave the door open.” Nick walked to the door without waiting for my response, clearly unperturbed
by my growl of frustration.
“Don’t get any meat, I’m a vegetarian,” I yell. That made Nick pause.
“You’re fucking kidding.”
“I am.” I lifted my shoulders to a shrug.
Nick’s lips curved into a smile. “Be good. Show me you’re getting better and I might reward you.”
“What kind of reward?” I asked, intrigued.
The knowing look he flashed me turned my bones to liquid.
Nick slammed the door behind him. I didn’t hear the lock click. Once I heard the engine of his car fade away, I nervously retraced his steps. I clutched the doorknob, still warm from his grip. Turning it, I yanked the door open, letting the night air in.
I sat on the porch steps, hugging my knees to my chest. Nick expected, no, wanted me to leave, to get a grip and do us both a favor. Minutes stretched to one hour. Two. I rubbed my hands, beginning to think Nick left me and would never come back. Fear held me in a vise-like grip. Bile rose up in my throat. With shaky legs, I stumbled to the dirt road and hurled the contents of my empty stomach.
Why did Nick leaving me terrify the hell out of me?
Headlights blinded me. Wheels screeched. I raised my hands in self-defense, a purely instinctual gesture. Seeing the familiar plates and battered car, I relaxed. Nick hurried out of the driver’s seat, pizza boxes in one hand.
“Julian? What happened?” He approached me, but I held out a hand.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not clearly fine. I stopped by the pharmacy for some pills. Come on. It’s cold out here.”
Placing his arms around my shoulders, Nick tugged me close. I breathed in his scent, pressed myself against his comforting warmth, and let him lead me back to the house.
“How long have you been out here? If you want to leave, I’ll call you a cab.”
“I was waiting for you. Running is far from my mind,” I snapped. He sat me down on the couch again, frowning. Noah would have cuffed me at the outburst. Nick pressed a cool hand over my forehead.
“Fuck. You need to eat something before taking your meds. Then straight to bed,” Nick ordered.
“What the hell, are you serious?” I demanded, rising, or tried to. A wave of nausea filled me, and Nick gently pushed me back on the couch.
Growling, Nick wore his Dom look, enough to stop me cold. “Stay there.”
“Not going anywhere.”
“I get that,” Nick grumbled.
Nick disappeared into the kitchen, sat beside me, and gave me water to drink. I greedily gulped the liquid down.
“Stubborn sub, I don’t know what the fuck to do with you. Eat, or I really will leave you, and believe me, Julian. You’ll never hear from me again.”
That persuaded me to eat. I gobbled up half of the pizza before answering him.
“I thought…” I faltered. “It doesn’t matter, I assumed wrongly.”
Nick ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Let’s get one thing straight. You’re sticking with me for the moment. Fine. I can’t do anything about that. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. We’ll take one day at a time. We’ll figure out how to deal with Noah, but after that, go home, Julian. Return to your old life.”
“You make it sound so easy. It’s not.” I crossed my arms, unnerved when he gripped the back of my neck, making me look at him.
“Try. Not for my sake, but for yourself.”
Nick’s advice made complete sense, but he didn’t understand. The moment I entered the cage Noah built for me out of my own volition, there had been no going back, merely forward.
To distract myself from the irrational thought of the walls of Noah’s closet closing down on me, I rewound the events that led to the moment I gave my trust without a second thought to a psychopath. I examined every detail in my head, how I ignored all the warning signs and gut instinct when Noah demanded I give him an answer.
Impulse drove me to say “yes”, like it always did. Actions first and thinking later—that had always been me. I broke a car window before thinking of the permanent record to my name left by one random act of violence. I defied the system and my foster parents at every turn, because I held so much anger inside me, a temper Noah beat out of me and hammered into discipline.
I thought I owed Noah my life. Still do, because without him, I would remain directionless, unsure of what to do about the dark desires I harbored. In my teenage years, I’d hurt myself, indulged in novice self-bondage and wondered what the hell was wrong with me I needed pain to get off.
“Try. You say that like it’s an easy thing,” I said.
I looked Nick in the eye. I wanted to hurt him, make him bleed. Although he wore Noah’s face, he reminded me of what Noah could have been, if his soul was absent of cracks. How could fate fuck up one brother and perfect the other? Not perfect, but at least Nick embodied all I wanted in a Dom.
I continued, “Noah left scars, but you, you’re not making things better by denying me. You’re making the wound worse.”
Nick flinched at that. My words shouldn’t possess the power to hurt him, but they did. Certainty he’d keep me, or at least allow me to stay, filled me now. His hand blurring, I didn’t see Nick move. He wrapped his huge and callused fingers around my neck, the most vulnerable part of the human body.
Nick didn’t squeeze, but applied enough pressure to make me gasp—a reminder he could crush the bones there and end my miserable existence. Despite the threat of death, blood surged to my dick. As if knowing my body’s reactions better than I did, his gaze settled on my bulge. My face heated up.
“Look at you,” he said, voice razor edged and sharp enough to cut. “Why would you think I’d want a sub my brother fucked up? Did you think I’d settle for seconds, Julian?”
I flinched, nonetheless hating it when he released me. “You don’t mean that,” I whispered, hating the neediness in my voice.
“Don’t I?” Nick rose from the couch, retreating to the kitchen.
Rooted to the spot, I touched my throat, still bearing the marks of Noah’s collar, but bare of the imprint of Nick’s fingers. Jesus Christ. I can’t help but imagine what a man who possessed exquisite control would be like, wielding a whip. I had a feeling Nick snapping when Noah opened the closet door had been one exception.
Nick came back, black garbage bag in hand. He shoved the empty pizza boxes inside, raising an eyebrow at me, still sitting there like an idiot.
“You lied,” I accused, feeling like a brat, but unable to help myself. “You want me, and I know it. Stop coming up with excuses. Nothing’s going to stop the inevitable.”
Nick gave me a slow smile. I faltered, suddenly out of ammunition. “The inevitable, are you so certain of that, sub?”
I stuck up my chin and crossed my arms. “Yes, absolutely.”
Nick let out a heavy sigh. “Take a hot shower. Get some sleep. That’s an order.”
“Orders are good,” I whispered, not aware I’d murmured the words out loud. I rose to my feet, gasping when Nick pulled me close when I passed by him. He crushed my lips with his, hard enough to bruise, to return me to reality.
“Good night, Julian.”
“Good night, Nick,” I whispered, walking towards the guest room he mentioned. I stole one lingering look at his huge frame, before disappearing in my room.
Chapter Seven
Nick
I shouldn’t watch him sleep, but I couldn’t stop. Three days had passed since we started living together. That was the only term I could come up with. For now, Julian lived as a guest, untouchable. He claimed I helped him heal, but I remained doubtful.
What Julian is doing is putting off reality, as much as he can.
What could I say about myself?
The moment Julian headed to bed I’d swiftly follow, placing my ear against the door, listening to the telltale sound of his snoring. Tonight wasn’t any different. I crept into his room. The rusty hinges of the door creaked, but I’d gleaned enough ex
perience to know that wouldn’t wake him. A heavy sleeper, I knew an earthquake wouldn’t wake him.
One foot—I allocated that much distance between Julian’s sleeping form and me. Guilt racked me each time I paid him a visit. God knew I lied to Julian often during the day, repeatedly emphasizing I wanted him gone, that he should go back home, wherever that was.
“I don’t want you to face Noah alone,” he’d assert the same lines, and I’d answered accordingly, like a script we’ve somehow memorized.
Truthfully, both Julian and I were skilled liars, cowards terrified to let go of this limbo we’d created for ourselves. Lack of news about Noah resurfacing from my trustworthy sources worried me. For now, at least, it looked like Noah chose to disappear.
I never imagined wanting to wake up to his familiar face in the morning or looking forward to our usual bickering at the breakfast table. Sweet and cloying moments like these made it easy to forget I should thank Noah for making this—whatever this I had with Julian, a possibility.
“No. Let me out,” Julian murmured in his sleep, tossing to his side.
I couldn’t move a muscle. Julian fisted the sheets, burying his face into the pillows. A muffled moan followed.
For the past two days, Julian didn’t talk in his sleep, or was it because of my presence? Did he somehow take comfort in the fact I was close by?
“Bullshit. Dream on, fucker,” I mutter to myself.
Julian was doing things to me I didn’t like, making me feel sentiment for another human being. In a club setting, I played safe, made sure no injury came to my subs, but I didn’t feel anything for any of them. They came to me with needs, I provided, end of story. Those random men and women, none of them affected me the way Julian did.
“Nick,” Julian cried out.
My name on his lips, full of needy desperation, broke my paralysis. I broke my one-foot rule, pulling the sheets aside to join him. Julian tensed at first, curling into a small ball. I nearly decided to back away and wake him instead. Thrashing on the bed, he called my name again, as if I was capable of banishing his demons. I pulled him into an embrace. He spooned against me like he belonged in my arms all along.
His Brand of Love Page 4