A Cut so Deep (Thornes & Roses Book 1)

by Dani René

  My body suddenly shakes, and I cry out as I leap over the edge of pleasure, leaving the pain behind while the tightening in my chest eases, and the usual anxiety releases me from its feral grip. And it’s all because of him. Not a blade. Not the blood. No longer a cut.

  And as I roll over on the bed, I cry because confusion has taken hold of me. I’m tipping over, falling, and I’m scared. So, fucking scared.

  Even though he promised that would be the last time, I wonder if he was trying to convince me or himself. Deep down, I pray that his restraint isn’t as strong as he makes it out to be, because I do want more.

  15

  Damien

  The sun is rising just above the trees. I’m not focused on the beautiful scenery, though; I’m thinking about Nesrin. I shouldn’t have kissed her at the party, but I couldn’t stop myself. It’s been a handful of hours, and I can’t stop replaying the moment in my mind.

  My self-restraint unraveled when I had her close to me. The scent of her perfume and her body molding to mine broke me. And the echo of her whimpers and moans have been a soundtrack for me; I don’t know how long I can fight this attraction. It’s as if she’s slowly burrowing her way inside me, into the marrow of my bones. I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s got a grip on me.

  It’s as if she’s challenging the very restraint I hold dear. The control I’ve always prided myself on is slipping away, inch by torturous fucking inch. I fight, yet it feels like a losing battle.

  It’s almost as if she and I suffer from the same affliction. In the darkness, we’re the same, but in the light, we’re vastly different. She’s too innocent for me and my world. But having her so close has me struggling to push these thoughts away.

  The crunch behind me doesn’t startle me; I felt him before he closed the distance. My brother has a way of sneaking into my private thoughts, and I know he’s going to question me about her.

  “Creed had a lot to say about you as he left,” Cassian says. My brother knows about my formative years when I got up to shit with The Black Knights, shit that was considered wrong. But Creed is the man who will hide in the shadows, wanting to feast on your fear. A rogue under the tailored suits and friendly smiles.

  Beneath the cool, confident exterior, is a man who is bad right down to the very marrow of his bones. Perhaps one day he’ll find his match, the girl who will finally bring him to his knees. Someone who won’t be afraid of the real Creed Haven and fight back, showing him he’s found his equal.

  Our town, Thorne Haven, was founded by two men back in the day. Us, the Thornes and them, the Havens. The three of them, Creed, Brody, and Keirin, aren’t blood brothers like we are, but they’re close enough to act like it.

  The Havens adopted them when they were young. We grew up together, our friendships grew over time, but when they decided to start shit in this town to spice up our meager teenage existence, I was at a place in my life where I was pulled into their twisted games.

  “He can say anything he wants, he’s a fucking asshole,” I bite out, as my anger simmers just below the surface. I want to drive out into Haven territory and call Creed out. I want to drag him over the invisible line and give him a taste of his own medicine. But I don’t. I know if I do it, I’ll only start a war.

  And that’s not what Nesrin needs to see.

  “You know she’s caught his eye,” Cass warns, his tone turning darker. I nod. Last night was just the first of what I can assume would be many chances that Creed would take. Even though we’ve kept the peace, ensuring appearances come across to others as peaceful, as if we’re still all friends, we’re not.

  It’s been a long time since we could have called ourselves friends.

  “He won’t fuck with her. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “What about La Ball Masqué?” Cassian’s question causes my body to lock in fury. My hands fist at my sides, and I know I’m going to have to take her there. The town would’ve already heard about my father’s wedding, and they would now know that I have Nesrin at the house. News travels fast in this town.

  If I take her, I’m making a statement to the Havens. They’ll read into it, and I don’t know if I can follow through with what’s needed. Creed will throw out a challenge if Nesrin is at my side at the dance.

  I internally war with myself for a long moment. Silence hangs between us. It’s a reminder that I’m not a man she can be with. This thing between us is not permanent, and whatever I’m feeling for her will bring about destruction to our family.

  “She’ll go with me.”

  I can almost feel Cassian’s smile at my admission. He knows she’s captured my attention. As much as I want to fight it, I’m losing the battle. I’ve already broken down and kissed her, but then told her it would never happen again, which was a blatant lie, because I don’t know how to keep it platonic between us.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” My brother questions slowly, but there’s a warning in his tone, which causes me to look at him for the first time.

  “Probably not,” I answer, honestly, because I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be anywhere near her. Not when she brings out such a ferocious need inside me.

  Cassian and I stare at each other for a long time, before he tells me, “I have to get back to the house and help clean up.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.”

  He nods and leaves me to my thoughts. The Masked Dance is an event that’s held in the old castle that sits on the hill of our town. Every attendee is under thirty, men go to this to find a partner, a woman for the night, and perhaps longer.

  The tradition started so long ago that I’ve lost track of how many of these things there have been. Over the years, it’s morphed into something far more sinister than it was originally created to be.

  Every attendee will be masked; it’s the unknown that brings out the darkness of each act that happens in the town. It’s like a sensually erotic version of Cirque Du Soleil. The show takes place in the majestic ballroom that will be decorated in black, gold, and silver.

  Once the show comes to an end, music starts, drinks flow, and people disappear into corners of the castle to enjoy the night. I’ve been to a few, I’ve had my experience, and each one has been more malevolent than the last.

  By the time I walk into the house again, it’s quiet, indicating that nobody’s home. A loud crash comes from the back of the house, though, forcing my feet into action as I race through the foyer and kitchen to find Nesrin standing over a tray of broken glasses.

  Finn and Cassian also make their way in from outside. “What the hell?” Finn chuckles.

  “I’m so sorry. I slipped; the floor was wet.” Nesrin looks like she’s close to tears, and I find myself at her side in seconds. Her body shakes, and I pull her into my arms, without thinking. Her body, once more, molds to mine, and when I meet Cassian’s arched, questioning brow, I know I’m fucked.

  “It’s fine,” I tell her, pulling her toward the door, gesturing with my chin toward the shards. “Clean that up, Finn.” I lead Nesrin toward the bathroom. Inside, I lift her onto the counter, and I’m surprised she allows me to do so.

  It’s only then that I notice she’s wearing shorts that ride up her slender legs. But it’s not her clothing choice that captures my attention, it’s the small red lines that mar her perfectly tanned flesh.

  She jerks the material of her shorts down, covering her upper thighs, but she can’t hide what I’ve already seen. When I lock my gaze on hers, I see the guilt flashing in those perfectly shiny golden eyes.

  “What the fuck was that?” The growl that leaves my mouth is thunder, a storm brewing in my chest, the swirling of rage taking hold of me.

  “Nothing.” She pushes me away, scooting off the counter before I have time to react. She rushes for the door, but I find my wits, making me quicker. My hand slams it closed and shuts us inside.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me,” I bite out, clenching my teeth so hard that my jaw aches painfully.
“What the fuck was that, Nesrin?” I ask again, the fury in my voice is evident. When she looks up at me, under those dark lashes, defiance flashes in her stare. She isn’t going to tell me.

  Her hands ball into fists before they slam against my chest, and as much as she tries to push me away, she can’t. I’m stronger, taller, and I’m far more solid than the wild rose that’s trying to fight me away.

  “Let me go, Damien.” Her voice cracks, which only seems to make a gash right in the center of my chest.

  I shake my head before I tell her, “You’re not leaving here until you explain yourself.”

  “You are nothing to me! I’m not here to answer to you!” she screams at me, her voice breaking with emotion. Her eyes that are normally filled with fire are glistening with tears.

  I slap the door on either side of her head, shocking her out of whatever fucking hysterical fit she was about to throw, and I lean my head down, so we’re eye to eye.

  “Listen to me, I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life,” I tell her. “And that bullshit on your legs is not something I’ll allow.”

  “You’ll allow?” she spits out as if I’ve offended her. Perhaps I have. I don’t care. She’s mine. The thought shoots through me without barriers, the knowledge that I want her has settled in my veins. “You have no fucking clue who I am. I am not a possession you can own.”

  “Like fuck you aren’t,” I bite out. The air in the room is thick, heavy with the promise that I’m taking and claiming her, and I don’t give a shit who says what about it.

  “Damien, I’m not yours. I can’t be. Don’t act like you give a shit about me.” Even though she attempts to square her shoulders to show off her confidence, the emotion falters in the tone of her voice.

  “You want this bullshit?” I grab her thigh, squeezing it hard. Her eyes widen, shock sparks in her expression, in those pretty fucking eyes. “You want to get hurt? I’ll hurt you so fucking badly, you’ll never want to pick up a blade again.” My voice lowers to a hushed whisper, and my lips feather along hers. “The only person who’ll ever hurt you is me. And when I do, you’ll beg me for more.”

  “You’re a fucking asshole.” Her words are ice, but her eyes dance with flames. “Let me—”

  My mouth crashes down on hers, and I feel the tears she’d been holding back spill down her cheeks. I told her last night that this wouldn’t happen again, but I can’t stop myself.

  Nesrin punches my chest as she wriggles beneath me, her body pinned between mine and the door. But the more she fights, the darker my need grows, and the harder my cock gets. My hands grip her thighs, squeezing hard until she mewls into my mouth. I lift her up, forcing her legs to wrap around my waist, as her hands continue to pummel me.

  Our mouths fuse violently, my tongue darts deep in to taste her. We duel for long moments before I allow my tongue to slide out and taste her mouth. She bites down on my lower lip, tugging the flesh until she earns herself a feral growl.

  I’m tempted to pull her clothes off, to inspect her body closely, to taste and lick those scars and see if they bear any resemblance to my own. But I don’t. I force back the growing desire that’s building inside me, and I break the kiss.

  Her lips are swollen, her eyes glassy, and her cheeks shimmer with the tears she shed. Nesrin looks up at me as the air, that’s now thick with sexual tension, hangs over us like a cloud of forbidden yearning.

  “It’s the only way I can feel. I’m so numb, so empty, and I don’t know why,” she finally tells me, in a broken whisper, and my heart shatters alongside hers.

  16

  Nesrin

  He looks at me for a long time. His eyes flash for a moment, and I think he’s going to kiss me again, but then he sets me to my feet and looks down at the blood that came from the cut on my hand. I’ve messed up his shirt, the red staining it.

  “You don’t do it anymore!” He’s not asking me; he’s commanding me. Pain laces his voice, the husky baritone sending shivers through me. Those blue eyes pierce me as if he can see my soul. The stare that he pins on me makes me believe he can feel how torn and broken I am on the inside. Damien’s hands move to the hem of his shirt, and he pulls the material over his head.

  Once again, I’m assaulted by just how beautiful he is. But also, under the harsh light of the bathroom, I see what he’s showing me. Not the chiseled peaks and valleys of his body, not even the V muscles that sink beneath the waistband of his pants. And not the dusting of dark hair that sneaks from his navel down below the belt he’s wearing.

  It’s what’s lacing his smooth, tanned skin. I see them. My first night here, when I first saw him shirtless, the dim lighting didn’t show them off. They weren’t as prominent, but now that the harsh white glare is on him, the scars become visible.

  When he starts unzipping his jeans, my mouth falls open in shock.

  “What are you doing?” I’m stunned. I want to see more of him, but I also want to turn my gaze away. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but the moment he pushes his pants down, my gaze finds the scars that were hidden behind the black material of his jeans.

  Thick, angry lines of red, nothing like mine, mar his left thigh. They’re not hidden, it’s as if he’s proud of them. There are only three thick angry lines, but they’re prominent. I’ve never seen him in merely a pair of tight black boxer briefs, but now I see everything.

  “Being the eldest Thorne in The Black Knights, I became something of a king for them. It’s stupid, but they saw me as their leader. Until Creed and I fell out. The six of us were always close. But the power that comes with running this town got to Creed. We fought in the forest to the cheers of the rest of the gang. Every young person who lives in this town watched us shed skin. I’ll never forget the violence of that night. It will always stay with me.”

  He pulls his jeans back up, leaving them unzipped, but they still hug his hips, teasing me. Through the violence, through his scars, I see him. Broken and torn, just like me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t fucking pity me,” he spits, and I can’t help but smile, to which he growls, “What?”

  I step closer to him, my fingertips dancing along the small lines that adorn his skin. “You’re beautiful.” My voice is barely a whisper, but I know he heard me. “And I can never pity someone. I know how it feels to be looked at with such sorrowful eyes that it makes you want to slice open your flesh and bleed out.”

  “I meant what I said, wild rose,” Damien says. “Never again.” I know what he means, but I don’t know if I can promise that to him. It’s been my solace for so long. Damien cups my face in his hands, the softness of his thumb sweeping along the apples of my cheeks. “I mean it. If you want to hurt, I’ll do it. I’ll make you ache so badly; nothing will ever compare to how I make you feel.” His promise sends heat pooling between my legs.

  “Tell me how?” My husky voice causes a smirk to appear on his face. The way his dimples deepen, as only one corner of his mouth tilts upward, making my skin prickle with awareness.

  “I have something in mind, but I’ll need you to trust me.” His eyes simmer with something feral. There’s pure animalistic need driving him because his expression holds lust and hunger.

  “Can I trust you?”

  “I’m meant to be here as your guardian, your older stepbrother, the person who’s meant to keep you safe, and I’ve already broken the rules. I’ve kissed you, craved you, and now I’m about to make you do something stupid in the darkness of the forest,” he speaks. His voice turns me molten with the thought of all those kisses, every touch and whisper.

  “I don’t like playing by the rules,” I tell him confidently, squaring my shoulders, but even in my show of confidence, I’m trembling. I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop myself from being attracted to him.

  “I noticed,” he quips. “But then again, I’ve always liked a bad girl.” More huskiness laces his voice, the gentle roughness of it running over my skin, making me shiver.
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br />   “How many—”

  “Don’t.” The one word holds more weight than I ever thought words could. He doesn’t want to talk about his past, which only means he’s had a lot of girls.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a jealous girlfriend.” The moment the word leaves my lips, I know it’s a mistake. Damien’s blue eyes bore into me, drilling deep, finding the parts of me that I try to hide.

  “Don’t you ever apologize to me,” he tells me. “I don’t know what this is between us,” he says. “But I know that as wrong as it is, I can’t stop it.”

  “Aren’t you meant to be the levelheaded adult here?”

  This causes him to chuckle. “Oh, wild rose, if you only knew. I’m so far from sensible. That’s why my father thinks of me as the black sheep.”

  “I thought Finn would be the black sheep,” I counter. From what I’ve seen of the three Thorne sons, Cassian would probably be the most reliable, Damien second, and Finn would, most definitely, be last.

  Damien grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners, the white-hot flame dancing in the blue. “We all hold a certain level of darkness within us,” he tells me. “It’s only a matter of time before you let yours shine through. So far, you’ve only seen mine.” He winks at me, and my stomach flips wildly.

  “So, what are our plans for tonight? You said you had an idea.”

  He leans in until his mouth is at my ear. “You’ll learn the truth behind Finders Keepers.” He steps back, leaving me cold, as he opens the tap. I watch him get a cloth, soak it, and twist it before he turns to me and starts cleaning me up. Once he’s taken care of me, he leads me to my bedroom and says, “Get some rest. You’ll need it for tonight.” And then leaves me staring at his back.