A Cut so Deep (Thornes & Roses Book 1)

by Dani René

  “But why offer the option to me to—”

  “I am your legal guardian. I can take, and I can give. What I say goes, and I’m informing you that you’re to stay here, go to school here.”

  “I want to go to Oxford!” My voice bounces off the walls, as I push up from the chair. Tension thickens the air in the room, and I know I may have just fucked up everything. If they don’t pay for my school, I can’t afford it, and Damien is still under his father’s thumb.

  It feels as if everything is crumbling around me, and there’s no way of me keeping it together now. I’m shaking. My body prickles with fear, and my heartbeat bangs loudly in my ears as blood rushes inside my veins. My fingers tremble, and my knees are wobbly. The thought of losing everything I’ve gained in the past few weeks makes it difficult to swallow.

  “I can’t do this now. Please.” I turn to leave, racing for the door. I can’t think straight. My mind is swirling with thoughts of my real mother, of my father.

  “Twenty-four hours, Nesrin.” Marcia’s voice comes from behind me, cool and calm, but the threat in her words hangs heavily on me. I pull open the door and step out into the hallway, only to slam into a body that’s hard as steel.

  Finn.

  “Whoa, little sis,” he says with a chuckle, but the moment he really looks at me, noticing the tears making salty tracks down my cheeks, his arms pull me in. “What’s going on?” Gently, he pulls me down the hall as we head into the gym where Cass is working out. Damien is nowhere to be found, and I don’t know if he knows about my real mother or not but, right now, all I want is to be alone, to find my release from the pain that’s collecting in my chest.

  When emotions overwhelm me, it’s the only thing that helps. But over the past few weeks, Damien has been there. He’s been my solace in the dark, and now that he’s hiding in his room, preparing to leave me, I don’t know how else I’m going to cope.

  “What’s going on?” Cassian is at my side, and both of them seem to be holding me up, but I can’t find the words. “I’ll be back.” Cassian’s out the door, leaving me with Finn, who sits me down on the bench against the wall. He leaves to grab a bottle of water from the small cooler and hands it to me, once he’s opened it.

  Quietly, I offer a nod of thanks, before pressing it to my lips and taking a long drink. I don’t know how to tell them what I’ve just learned because I can’t come to terms with it just yet.

  I saw Mallory today, and she said nothing. Even though we spoke for a couple of hours about why she’s here, how she met Creed’s dad, she never once gave me a reason to doubt this was all a coincidence. But as my mind plays out scenarios, I wonder if the woman who raised me as her own, Marcia, married Bradford for this reason, to one-up her sister, my mother.

  “Nesrin?” Damien’s voice cuts through the cloud of sadness that’s taken hold of me. He’s on his knees in front of me, his hands finding mine, holding them to his mouth. Blue eyes peek up at me, regarding me with pain, dancing like flames in the depths.

  “I… I need to leave,” I tell him, as I consider my options. I can’t live here. And I certainly don’t want to live in a house with Creed Haven. Even though he’s done nothing to me personally, I know that if I have any chance at a life with Damien, I need to make a choice. I don’t have to go to Oxford, there are other schools in London. I can apply for scholarships.

  My grades were always perfect, and I know if I took a chance, I’d be able to get something. I am even willing to work part-time if I need to. Anything to be away from the lies that seep from the veins of the women I believed to be my mother, and my aunt.

  “What happened?” Damien asks, and I realize he’s been waiting for me to speak for a while. “I need you to talk to me.”

  I stare at the floor, focusing on the mat that covers the area where Damien is kneeling. It’s soft, smooth, and I try not to think about my world falling apart. But I need to tell him everything. He has a right to know.

  “My mother, I mean… Marcia.” My voice breaks, but I swallow past the lump in my throat and meet his intense gaze. “She’s not my mother.” The confusion in his expression is evident from the furrowing of his brows. “She took me in when I was born. My mother… My real mother is Mallory.”

  “What?” All three guys utter in unison, Cassian and Finn flank their brother, arms crossed, gazes locked on us. They’ve accepted me as one of their own, as their little sister, which made me feel like I’d found my place in the world.

  “She just told me how Mallory had an affair with my father.” I shake my head, still disbelieving the soap opera that my life feels like. “Mallory was worried because she wasn’t married. My grandparents were strict. I knew that, even though they died when I was young, but even as a kid, they scared me.”

  “And Marcia took you in?”

  I nod, feeling more tears spill from my lashes. “She agreed to raise me alongside my father, but even then, he didn’t stay. He didn’t want me. I feel alone. Broken.”

  “You’re not alone,” Damien assures me, his gaze locked on mine. He tugs me from the bench, pulling me into his lap, as we both fall back onto the soft mat, which I know they usually use for sparring. His arms wrap around me, warming me right down to my bones.

  “You are never alone,” Cassian tells me, as he takes a seat. “We’re always here for you. You’re with Damien now, he’s chosen you, which means you’re a Thorne.”

  “Your dad wants me with Creed. He wants a Thorne-Haven wedding.”

  Damien goes rigid beneath me. “No.” The word is gritted out from the man holding me. “That’s not happening. If he wants me to step down from running Thorne Corporation, I’ll do it, but I’m not allowing you to be with Creed.”

  “Allowing me?” Even in the twisted events of this evening, I sass him. But the way his gaze bores into me, I know he’s not joking right now. He doesn’t have to worry about it, because I want him and only him.

  “Creed can’t have you.” Finn agrees with his brother. “And he will understand you’ve already been claimed. The night of the masquerade ball, Damien made sure to show him that, he wouldn’t come near you unless he wants a war.”

  “I just want to go, fly away and never come back,” I tell them. Damien’s arms tighten around me, holding me against his chest. I can feel his heart thudding against me, and the rhythm is calming.

  His next words are a reassuring affirmation which makes every inch of my body release the anxiety that had earlier taken hold of me. “Then we’ll go.”

  37

  Nesrin

  The Past

  When I open my eyes, I hear a noise downstairs, but confusion makes me peek over the covers. It’s not morning yet, because the sun hasn’t come up, but I can hear my mother speaking. Her voice carries up the stairs to my bedroom. The door is closed, and I can’t hear what she’s saying, but she sounds angry.

  I don’t like when Mom is angry. My stomach turns in knots, like when I’m meant to do my speech in the front of the class. I never liked people looking at me, and the kids at school aren’t friendly.

  Another shout comes from downstairs, and I push off the bed, padding barefoot to the door, I slowly twist the handle and pull it open. Her voice is clearer now, and then I hear Daddy, too.

  He says something, but his voice sounds like a growl. I’m scared when I move closer to the stairs to try to see what they’re doing, but even from the landing, I can’t.

  My heart is beating so fast; it’s making my ears beat like a drum of my favorite pop song. I know something is wrong because my mom is crying now.

  “Please, Mark,” she says to dad, but I don’t hear him answer her. I tiptoe farther down the steps, and that’s when I see them in the living room. Mom’s face is wet, her makeup has made stripes down her cheeks as she looks at Dad.

  He looks at her but doesn’t hold her. Growing up, I always remember him holding her tightly when she was sad, but this time, it’s different. In the next second, her hand comes up and smack
s him across the cheek so hard, his head snaps to the side.

  I stumble back, falling onto the carpet on the step.

  “You’re fucking crazy,” he says to Mom, and I can hear he’s angry. I’ve only heard him shout a few times, where I would hide under my bed out of fear, and this is just like those.

  “You fucked this up!” Mom’s scream is so loud, and I have to put my hands on my ears. “You’re a fucking lying asshole!” I’m sure the windows will break each time mom shouts at him, but they don’t.

  Glass crashes onto the floor. Tears burn my eyes, and I stand quickly, racing into the bathroom and locking myself inside. My heart beats so loudly in my ears, I can’t think about anything else. But nothing drowns out the sound of my parents’ rage.

  I’m scared.

  My tears fall down my cheeks.

  My chest aches from the anger I hear in their voices.

  My stomach twists from the fight that seems so much worse than anything I’ve heard from them before.

  Everything hurts because I wonder if it could’ve been something I did. Perhaps it’s all my fault. Maybe they don’t love each other because of me.

  Another loud crash comes from downstairs, and I run to the toilet, just in time to puke up my dinner. My hands shake, as I hold onto the white bowl, the tightening becoming worse. When there’s nothing more coming out of my mouth, I try to stand, and my legs wobble.

  I open the tap. While rinsing my mouth, I see my dad’s razor on the counter. I think about the first time I experienced calmness. When it happened; it was by mistake. An accident with a glass.

  But now as I make the choice, I know it’s more.

  My fingers shake when I lift it, unlatching the silver blade and holding it between my fingers. I turn, slide down onto my butt, and lift my shorts. I close my eyes after I press the silver metal to my skin and press it hard.

  The pain makes me shiver, and more tears fall down my cheeks, but the moment I open my eyes and look at the blood, I can finally breathe again. It hurt, a lot, but I do it for a second time, two small lines on my tanned skin, the red staining my fingertips and the sharp object.

  My chest doesn’t feel tight anymore.

  My stomach isn’t in knots.

  And I can finally feel my lungs inhale deeply.

  As I close my eyes, all the fear and worry eases, the pain brings about serenity.

  And I know this is the only way I’ll ever find calm.

  38

  Damien

  The Present

  I promised her we’d go. My fingers are laced with hers, as we make our way up the stairs. She’s quiet, contemplative, so I don’t say anything, because I need her to make sure this is what she wants.

  When we reach her bedroom door, I stop, waiting for her to say something, anything. I will walk away from Thorne Corporation if it means having her with me. I don’t give a shit about the company if I don’t have Nesrin.

  “I want to run,” she tells me, but she doesn’t meet my stare. Her hand on the doorknob tightens because her knuckles turn white. She’s tense, nervous. Her body trembles, as she stares at the door, instead of looking at me.

  My brows furrow, not understanding her. “Run?”

  “I want to go into the forest, I want to play hide and seek with you, but I want a burning rose. No more treating me like I’m fragile. The first time you took me on a run, it was merely a test. I want it all,” she tells me, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine. My initial response is to say no, to refuse her immediately, but I have a feeling she needs this.

  I can’t stop my gaze from dropping to her legs, even though she’s wearing clothes, I see beneath those.

  “Fine. But you have to promise me something,” I tell her, stepping in close, my palms landing on either side of her head, as I cage her in. “If you need to stop at any point, you tell me. You do not, and I mean do not, push past your limits.”

  She laughs. “Do I need a safe word?”

  “Yeah.” And I’m not even joking.

  Nesrin ponders my response, her eyes sparking, as she nods. “Fine. It’s Rose.” I can’t help but smile before pushing away from her and stepping back.

  “Meet me in the greenhouse in ten minutes. Remember, don’t wear anything that will get you hurt. Cover up,” I tell her, before turning for my bedroom. “Oh and, Nesrin,” I call to her before she steps over the threshold of her room, “don’t wear panties. You won’t be needing them.”

  I’m in the greenhouse, ready, waiting. The items I need are strapped to me—rope, knife, lighter. The rose I’m holding is deep red, the petals perfectly opened, splayed, just how I want Nesrin to be tonight.

  With our folks at home, it’s tricky to even consider fucking her anywhere in the house. Even though our bedrooms have doors, just the thought of them down the hall makes me anxious.

  With a quick glance at the forest behind me, I allow the excitement to twist in my chest. My body is rigid with the need to run into the darkness and get lost amongst the trees. Just the thought of having her beside me has me on edge, in a good way.

  “I’m ready for the real thing this time,” she whispers when she steps into the glass house. She’s dressed in tight black yoga pants, a tank top with her hoodie unzipped, and sneakers. She looks beautiful in the darkness, just like she did the first night we ran.

  I hold the rose up, reaching for my lighter, I flick it to life. The flame dances over the petals, searing the perfection, turning the deep red to black. Nesrin’s golden eyes are ablaze, just like the flower that’s slowly turning to ash.

  Once the bud is completely singed, I kill the flame and slip my lighter into my back pocket, before handing her the burnt rose. Her hand wraps around the stem, and I watch in awe as the crimson drips from the piercings of the thorns.

  “You did that on purpose,” I accuse her, and she can’t refute me; she knows it’s true. When Nesrin opens her hand, I grab her wrist, bringing her palm to my nose. Inhaling her scent has my mouth-watering, and I can’t stop myself from leaning in to taste her. “Are you completely sure you want this?”

  Her gaze flits to mine, her pupils dilate, and her lips part on a soft whisper of, yes.

  “Then run,” I order, low, barely audible, but when her feet move, I know she’s heard me. I step out of the greenhouse, watching her path into the trees, and then I take off behind her. The moment I hit the tree line, I listen, slowing down just enough to pick up the footfalls on the ground.

  When I hear the creak in a branch, I move to the left. My heart rate spiking with excitement, as I make my way through the shadows of the trees. Even though it’s dark, I know my way through the maze before me. I wonder if she’ll head toward the water, or if she’ll run the other way.

  A few meters later, I stop, listen, and close my eyes to focus on the sounds that skitter across the forest. A harsh breath echoes from my right-hand side, so I follow it. A smile playing on my lips, as I make way on the soft ground, and, seconds later, I see her in the sliver of light coming from the moon above us.

  I grab at her, my fingers brushing along the material of her hoodie and a scream falls free from her, making me chuckle.

  “I’m coming for you, wild rose,” I warn her, as my cock thickens against my zipper. Fuck, I’m so ready for her right now. I want her heat wrapped around me like a vise.

  She shoots forward, her breathing coming out in short, quick spurts that makes my desire for her burn through me like a blaze taking out everything in its way.

  I’m about to grab at her again, when she twists to the left, making me race the wrong way because I couldn’t slow down in time. Even through the trees, I can make her small form out, and the animal deep in my gut roars with happiness when another scream lurches from her as I make another grasp for her.

  But my wild rose is quick, shocking me and she makes a break, racing from me on those slender, sexy legs. I fucking love this girl. The thought comes quickly, but I shake it away the next second, refocusing on the
task at hand.

  I can’t think about that now.

  Not yet.

  39

  Nesrin

  My lungs are burning, but I don’t stop. My legs wobble with every step, but I focus on the adrenalin racing through me. Even though everything aches, I’m euphoric. The talk with my mother, the truth she revealed, no longer twists the anger in my gut. My chest is no longer tight with frustration at the lies.

  I’m free.

  The need to grab a blade, to open a wound in order to release my fears is no longer at the forefront of my mind. With every tentative step I take, hoping he finds me but also, praying he doesn’t; I can’t help but realize I can make it through whatever challenge comes my way.

  It’s a thin, sleek line between strength and weakness for me. One small incident can tip me over the edge into the darkness, and I’ll get lost inside myself.

  The darkness engulfs me, holding me in its chilly embrace. I stop for a moment, completely lost. I took a turn somewhere along the way, thinking it would lead me to the lake, but it hasn’t. I’m not sure where I am, but I do have my phone if I need it. I flicked off the GPS because I had a feeling Damien would be able to track me with it, but I could always turn it on when I’ve had enough.

  But I’m not ready to go back.

  I’m enjoying this far too much. A crunch from somewhere behind me has me freezing. The trees hide me, but something tells me Damien will find me, even if I was completely hidden.

  I’ll find you, even in the dark.

  His words always linger on the edge of my fear. The promise is written on my heart, and I know no matter where I am, I’m safe because he’s there. It eases the tension that tends to grip me. Another crack of a branch echoes through the forest, and my heartbeat kicks up a notch. It’s louder, right in my ears, reminding me I’m alive.