Damaged Locke (Locke Brothers,1)

by Victoria Ashley

  “I cut it on the mirror downstairs.” It’s not a lie. It’s just not the full truth. “Then I went for a damn walk to clear my head. I needed to be alone.”

  Ever since my parents were murdered and I walked in at the end, getting stabbed three times and left for dead, you can say my brothers have been overprotective.

  If it weren’t for them, I’d be dead and those murderous motherfuckers who took our parents’ lives would be alive, roaming the streets, looking for some other drug addicts to take from.

  My parents weren’t good. They were fucked in the head. Consumed by their habits. The Locke family name is tainted as shit, and my brothers and I are the only ones left other than my uncle, Killian.

  My brothers don’t realize, though, that I can take care of my damn self now. I’m not that helpless fifteen-year-old that couldn’t defend himself anymore. I’ve been through hell and back many times that they don’t know of.

  And I’ve walked out, unscathed every single time, except that one.

  “Don’t make me remind your ass what happened to our parents,” Sterling says over his whiskey glass. “Everyone in this town paints us as the bad guys, the ones to be feared, but we know more than anyone there’s fucks out there a lot more dangerous and twisted than us, little brother.” His jaw flexes as he tilts back his glass, emptying it. “We’ve witnessed it.”

  “Don’t worry.” I slip my jacket on and pet King’s head as he comes to sit at my feet. He’s one of the most loyal pit bulls you’ll ever meet. He’s a mean fucker, you better believe that, but only when we tell him to be. “I’m always prepared.”

  “Good.” Ace nods down at his hammer, sitting next to his feet. “I’m ready to play anytime.”

  I smirk and head for the door. “Because you’re the most twisted Locke of us all.”

  As soon as the cool night air hits my face, I place a cigarette between my lips and light it, leaning my head back as I inhale.

  It’s a little earlier than last night, but I have a feeling I know where to find her.

  Exhaling, I make my way toward the trails close to Kadence’s house.

  There’s not one person brave enough in this town to run those trails at night, but I have a feeling Kadence isn’t as fragile as she looks.

  She obviously can’t be that scared if she let a damn Locke into her room in the middle of the night.

  Before long I find myself standing off in the darkness, watching Kadence from afar as she slowly jogs between the trees, stopping occasionally to catch her breath.

  She seems unaware of anything around her, making me nervous that she chooses to run these paths alone, so late at night.

  What if it wasn’t a Locke brother lurking in the night, watching her? What if someone far more dark and twisted than me decides they want her just as badly as I do?

  Then what?

  I’ll be around to find out what. That I’m making sure of now.

  KADENCE

  Being out here, alone, in the middle of the night, feels freeing after being stuck in a stuffy coffee shop, taking orders all day.

  The cool air hitting my face calms me, making me feel alive as I take these trails each night, knowing I’m the only one around for miles.

  At least so far.

  In the two months I’ve been running at night, I haven’t once seen anyone else out here. It’s as if everyone’s afraid to come out after dark in this little town.

  As if everyone expects the Locke brothers to be lurking around every corner, ready to get their hands bloody.

  Even though I’ve heard the stories of how dangerous they are, a part of me has always been curious about the brothers, wanting to know why they are that way.

  What drives them into the darkness they seem to survive in.

  When the youngest Locke, Aston, looked at me from across the street for the second night in a row, I was quick to let him in, wanting a chance to get to know about him.

  It was as if my body had a mind of its own, going right for the one thing that was keeping us apart.

  Having him in my room, so close, his breath against my lips, had me going crazy inside.

  My heart has never beat so damn fast in my life. Not even during my nightly runs, and if I have to be honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about him since.

  There’s no denying I hope he comes back.

  The sound of leaves crunching behind me has me stopping and turning around to see if someone’s following me.

  My heart is racing like crazy as my gaze scans the darkness around me.

  I don’t see anyone, so I take off running again, going faster this time.

  Of course, the moment I begin to think I’m always out here alone, some crazy person might just pop out of nowhere, proving my ass wrong.

  I run for a good three minutes before I hear someone come up behind me, right before I’m yanked back by a hand grabbing my mouth.

  I scream, but it’s muffled, his hand covering my mouth and nearly my nose.

  My lungs start burning, the need to suck in a breath strong, making me fight for survival. I lash out, swinging my arms around, trying to hit him, hurt him.

  I make contact with his face, my nails digging into his skin.

  He grunts, and the pleasure fills me. I got the fucker. Good. But still he drags me back, farther into the darkness, away from the pseudo-protection of the park lights.

  I know if I don’t stop this, he’ll rape me, hurt me. He’ll make me his victim, and that I won’t stand for. I won’t allow him to dig into my soul, crushing me, making me afraid for the rest of my life.

  “You stupid fucking cunt,” he grits out. His voice is deep, but it sounds fake, like he’s trying too hard to disguise it.

  He’s a coward.

  Before I know what’s going on, he has me pushed up against a tree. The side of my face connects with the bark, scraping the skin, causing a burn and pain to take root.

  I try to turn around, to fight, even if he is stronger. But he has a forearm on my back, pressing me harder against the trunk, making me stationary for the violence he is about to deliver.

  I scream, knowing it won’t do a hell of a lot of good. It’s late, and that’s one of the reasons I come out here. I want to be alone with my thoughts, but it’s clear that was a foolish mistake.

  “I’m going to make you pay for that.”

  I know he’s talking about the scrape across his face. Good, I hope it bleeds, hope it leaves a mark forever.

  Then I hear his zipper being pulled down, and my survival mode kicks in. I fight harder, trying to be strong.

  Then, out of nowhere, the weight on my back is gone, and there’s a grunt behind me, a sound of flesh hitting flesh. I should run, leave, but my morbid curiosity has me turning and watching the scene unfold before me.

  Relief rushes through me, my heart rate slowing down a bit when my eyes lock on him.

  Aston is beating the shit out of my attacker, and as much as I should feel disgusted by the act of violence, all I can do is watch in awe.

  ASTON

  All I can feel is my fist going into this motherfucker’s face. Over and over I slam my knuckles into this bastard’s body, hearing him grunt in pain, smelling his blood coat the air.

  The metallic scent that fills my nose tingles, and makes me hungry for more violence.

  This prick thought he could touch Kadence. He’s about to learn the hard truth that she’s mine, and anyone who fucks with her deals with me.

  “God.”

  I hear her whisper, but I’m in my own world, the need to cause more pain, give more violence, rushing through my veins.

  My heart is pumping wildly, my head exploding with the power, strength, with the degrading things I still want to do.

  “You think you can fucking touch her, hurt her?” I say and pound my fist into his face again. We’re on the ground now, me straddling him, wailing on his ass. “You fucked with the wrong girl, asshole.” Blood coats my knuckles, splattered on my shirt, but I d
on’t stop.

  I can’t.

  “Enough,” she says softly.

  But I’m in my own world, wanting to hurt this fucker as badly as I can.

  “You’ll kill him,” she says again, and when I feel her hand on my shoulder, I make myself slow. I look at her, the shocked expression on her face piercing me deep.

  I’m breathing hard, my chest rising and falling, blood covering my hands, sweat coating my body. I stand, look down, and see the bastard still breathing. I would have much preferred to kill him, making him suffer.

  “He’s not worth it,” she whispers.

  She’s wrong about that, but I find myself turning toward her, wanting to touch her, make sure she’s okay.

  I take a step closer, and she moves one back. We do this several times until she is pressed to a tree trunk, her chest now rising fast and hard.

  “He’s not worth it,” she says again.

  I shake my head. “He deserves to be six feet under the fucking ground for even thinking he can mess with you.”

  I may have stopped, but I have no intention of letting this fucker pass. If she doesn’t want to see me take vengeance, fine. But I’ll find this prick later, and then real damage will be done.

  I lift my bloodied hand up, smooth a finger along her cheek, and stare at the smear of red on her flesh. I need her right now, want to combat this violence running in me with the feeling of her under me.

  She’s shaking, her breath moving in and out of her parted lips fast. Fuck, I can’t help myself, don’t even want to at this point.

  I wrap my hand around her neck, the hold loose, but letting her know I’m serious. I stare into her eyes for long seconds, seeing her pupils dilate, seeing she is equal parts aroused and frightened.

  I’m a bastard, wanting her after what almost went down. But I can’t help myself.

  Feeling the need claim me, I kiss her, just slam my mouth down on hers and take her lips like I own her.

  I do fucking own her. She’s mine.

  I tighten my hand on her throat, press my body to hers, and feel my dick get hard. Fuck, I want her right now, want to part her thighs and slide my cock into her tight little pussy.

  I bet she’s tighter than a fucking fist wrapped around my cock. Once I have her, I know she’ll be wet for me too, so damn juicy my dick will be soaked, the sheets damp beneath her.

  I groan against her mouth, sliding my tongue deeper between her lips, making her take it all, knowing she loves it.

  But she breaks away, panting, her lips red, swollen. We stare at each other for long seconds, and finally I take a step back.

  “Come on,” she’s the one to say, and I let her take my hand.

  I know where we are going. Tonight I’ll show her exactly how much I want her.

  Tonight she’ll see that she is mine.

  ASTON

  The room is filled with silence. Kadence is moving around slowly to clean my hands, as if she’s worried her roommate will wake up and find me here.

  She can be quiet all she wants while she works on my busted-up hands, taking care of me, but there’s no way she’ll be able to be quiet once I take care of her and make her mine.

  I’m going to make her scream so loud I’ll feel it in my fucking soul, overpowering all the darkness around me, allowing me to get lost in her for a short time and forget about this hell.

  “Thank you for doing that.” She lifts her green eyes up to meet mine, her lips slightly curving into a thankful smile as she wraps the last of the bandage around my hand. “There’s no doubt he would’ve hurt me badly if you hadn’t been out there tonight. I’m glad you were there, Aston.”

  Tightly clenching my jaw, I stand over her small frame, allowing her to take me in. She gazes up and down my sweaty body as if she wants to reach out and run her fingers over every dip and curve.

  Anger is still swarming through me at the thought that that piece of shit believed he had the right to hurt her and take her without permission.

  Fuck that shit.

  I’ll rip that fucker’s throat out before he ever has the chance of that happening.

  I can hear her breathing pick up, see the fast rise and fall of her chest as I back her to the door and brush my lips against her smooth neck. “No motherfucker will ever touch you without your permission,” I growl. “Not as long as I’m around.”

  But what I don’t say, at least not just yet, is that the only motherfucker who will ever touch her is me.

  She lets out a small breath of air as I move my mouth around to the front of her neck then brush up to her lips. “You want me to touch you? You want my hands all over this tight little body of yours, Kadence?”

  I hear her swallow before she lets out a quiet, “Yes,” across my lips, confirming what I already knew from the first moment our eyes met.

  As soon as the word leaves her mouth, my hands are gripping her waist and flipping her around to press her front against the door.

  Before she has a moment to catch her breath, I quickly rip her pants down her legs and slam my body against hers from behind, letting her feel my roughness.

  A small, needy moan escapes her pretty little lips once she feels my hardness pressed against her ass, ready to take her.

  Pressing her harder into the door with my hips, I lift her shirt over her arms before pinning them to the door and grazing my teeth over her throbbing neck, tasting her sweaty flesh. The salt on my tongue has my cock jerking.

  “Nothing is gentle about me,” I grit out. “You’re about to find out just how fucking hard I am.”

  “God, yes.”

  That’s all I need to hear.

  Reaching between our bodies, I quickly undo my jeans and slide them down my hips before yanking her panties down her thighs and thrusting into her tight little pussy, fast and deep.

  I do it so fucking hard that she turns her head and bites into my arm, almost drawing blood, to keep from screaming.

  Groaning against the back of her neck, I wrap my fingers into her thick hair and pull as my other hand reaches around to grip the front of her neck and squeeze.

  My thick cock fills her completely, easily sliding in and out from her wetness coating me, our sweaty bodies slapping together with force.

  She’s so much wetter than I imagined she’d be for me. I can feel her arousal dripping down to my balls.

  Fuck, she likes my roughness . . .

  This has me fucking her harder, being so rough that her body moves up the wooden door, her face smashing against the surface with each thrust.

  “Aston,” she pants while gripping at anything she can grab on to. “Keep going . . . don’t stop.”

  I yank her hair back and smirk before running my tongue over her hot neck, all the way over to her ear. “I don’t plan to.”

  Pulling out of her, I flip her around and crush my lips against hers, tugging and pulling with my teeth until her lips are red and swollen. “Not for a long fucking time.”

  A surprised breath escapes her lips as I pick her up and roughly toss her onto her bed before walking over to stand at the foot of it.

  She’s breathing heavily, gripping at the blankets as I grab the bottom of my shirt and rip it off over my head, tossing it aside.

  I see the expression on her face change the second her gaze scans my chest and abs, taking in the long, jagged scars.

  Her focus stays there, examining them, but she doesn’t say anything as I lower my jeans, stepping out of them.

  I stand here in silence for a moment, my chest quickly rising and falling as she takes in the sight of me, naked, in front of her.

  There’s no mistaking she’s completely turned on by what she sees, but also scared and concerned about what happened to me in the past.

  If she knew half the shit I’ve been through, the suffering and pain I’ve endured, there’s no doubt in my mind that she’d run and never fucking look back.

  Now it’s time for her to really feel me.

  KADENCE

 
I stare at Aston, my pussy sensitive from when he shoved all those hard inches into me, but my body still wants more.

  I crave more.

  I look at the inked-up skin he reveals, the scars I can see intersecting the art. What must he have gone through? What fucking horrors did he see to make him broken on the outside?

  Sure, physically he’s strong, powerful, but those scars had to have given him a lasting effect. They had to have chipped away at him.

  I want to ask him about them, to comfort him, but a part of me knows better than to pry. I don’t want to push it, don’t want to cross that line.

  Maybe, given time, I’ll open up and find the courage to ask him, to let him know I want to make sure he’s okay.

  But I can see right now talking is not in the plan. It’s clear in his eyes that he wants to fuck me, and do it hard.

  “Take off the bra. Now,” he demands.

  I rise up slightly, remove my bra, and once naked I rest on the bed again. He looks me up and down as if he’s doing it to get his fill. Goose bumps pop out along my flesh, and I feel myself getting wetter.

  “How primed are you for me?”

  I don’t answer, just brace my feet on the bed and spread my thighs wide, showing him I’m ready for him to take me, to claim me.

  He makes this deep rumble in his chest and grabs his huge, thick cock and starts stroking himself. God, the sight of him jerking off while he looks at me is so damn hot I can barely handle it.

  And then he’s on me, pushing my legs wider apart, settling between them. He doesn’t wait to shove back into my body, stretching me, making the pain and pleasure rise to this burn, this high.

  The grunt he gives when he’s to the hilt inside me, his balls pressed to my ass, has me gasping. I arch my back, thrust my breasts out, and ride the wave of pleasure as he starts fucking me.

  In and out. Faster, harder, no fucks given.

  He has his hand on my throat, cutting off my breathing slightly, making the intensity wash through my body.