by Laura Avery
QUIVER
A DARK ROMANCE
BOOK FOUR
BY LAURA AVERY
Copyright 2018 Laura Avery, all rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced without written consent of the author. This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Quiver is a dark romance and is intended for mature audiences only. It’s extremely possessive and crude. Please don’t read if strong sexual situations, language, violence, and bullying offends you. All individuals portrayed in this work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older.
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Chapter One
“God, I just wanted to heal him.”
EMERY
I had never seen a scene so dark in my entire life that didn’t take place on a movie screen. Jackson was going insane, ripping the room in front of us apart piece by piece. No matter how much I screamed at him he kept at it, getting more and more lost in his trance. The video had triggered him in the worst way possible and if I didn’t do something soon he was going to tear the entire building apart.
“Jackson!” I tried again but he didn’t even flinch, picking up a chair that was perched across the room and tossing it over the desk and causing all the objects on it to fall to the ground in a cloud of pieces.
I had never seen someone so out of control before.
So fucking damaged.
I dug my phone out of my pocket and shot Morgan a text since I didn’t have Pierce’s number. Science building, room 401, Jackson is destroying the place. Bring Pierce now. 911.
I prayed like hell she got it and turned my attention back to the demon that had taken over Jackson’s body. “Jackson!” I crossed the room to him, wrapping my hands around his arm and yanking him as hard as I could toward me, desperate to bring him back down to reality. “Jackson! Look at me! Damn it, look at me!”
His chest was raising heavily, his eyes black and completely glazed over with pain. He finally looked at me and it was almost too much to handle, finally, could I see all the pain that lived there. Finally, could I understand how damaged he really was, and something told me what I had seen on that tape was only the tip of the iceberg. “Fuck,” he mumbled, dropping the book in his hand to the ground and sinking his large body to the ground.
I crouched down next to him off impulse and took his hands in mine. “Jackson,” I whispered. He looked so broken, like the shell he had been struggling to keep up around him all these years had finally come tumbling down. “It’s okay.”
He laughed bitterly and glanced at the ground. “Nothing about this is okay, Emery.” His voice sounded colder than usual, more detached and lost than anything I had ever witnessed in my twenty years of existence. His heart was still racing; his eyes still dead.
Before I had a chance to think about it, I covered my body with his, crawling into his lap. His body went stiff but he didn’t stop me so I didn’t retreat, wrapping my arms around his neck instead and resting my forehead on top of his. It was so rare to catch him vulnerable, so unheard of that he would be around me with his guard down even a little bit.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I whispered, running my hand over his perfectly angled jaw and letting my finger pause on his perfectly arched cheekbones. It was intimate and wrong but I couldn’t help myself, I needed his touch as much as he needed mine.
“Never.” His voice was cold.
I inched my lips forward and kissed him hard on the lips. I would have never done it under normal circumstances; it wasn’t how our dynamic worked. Jackson was the one in control; Jackson was the one who made the discussions. And as much as I tried to deny it, I knew the truth deep down, that was the way that I liked it.
It was why I had been obsessed with him since the second I saw him. I liked the way he controlled everything around him, loved knowing that if I was near him I was safe, it turned me on knowing that the thought of another man having me made him crazy. The obsession was intense and if I was being honest with myself, I had always known it, always wanted it.
Jackson’s mouth parted and I whipped my tongue in deeply, trying to taste every part of him. His taste was intense and hungry, desperate to swallow the pain back inside of him and I was all too eager to help. I hated seeing him that way, so out of control that there was no telling what he would do. I wanted to do anything I could to take his mind off what had just happened, to fill his body with pleasure instead of pain.
He yanked away from me fiercely, wrapping me in his arms and yanking me into his chest as he buried his head in my neck. I was startled for a second when I realized he was hugging me, holding me. I reached up tenderly and started to run my hands through his hair, petting him like I owned him. And, oh, how I wished I did.
He cleared his throat. “Where the fuck did it come from?”
Guilt overwhelmed me. I should have told him the first time I saw the kid standing outside of my door. When the box showed up, I should have told him again. And when I got that random text, it would have been the perfect opportunity to own up to everything. But I hadn’t, I hadn’t done any of that. I had kept it to myself and tried to figure it out on my own.
I wouldn’t if I had known.
If I had known where it would lead.
I knew he had secrets but I never thought they were secrets like this.
I suspected he had pain but never pain like this.
God, I just wanted to heal him.
“I got a text message telling me I needed to see something.” I clung on to him tighter, terrified he was going to pull away from me at any second. I didn’t want him to. I wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms like it was where I belonged. “Whoever sent it told me to come here.”
“And you just came without telling me?” He was starting to sound angry again. “And then you what? Just sat here watching it?” His touch was cold and bitter, no doubt replaying the nightmare in his mind.
“No!” I pulled back from him. “I had just turned it on when you came in. I didn’t know what it was!” I was relieved to find the gray color slowly returning to his eyes. I pushed my body deeper into his lap. “Jackson, tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours.”
Jackson shook his head and placed me off him. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” He got to his feet again and started pacing back and forth in front of me. “Fuck, I wasn’t even supposed to see it. I don’t even know how anyone got their hands on it. My father would lose his fucking mind.”
He said his father’s name like he was still loyal to him.
The thought made me cringe.
“Jackson.” I brought my body to my feet. “Is that why we have such a complicated relationship? I don’t understand. Do you think that’s what love is? Is that why you… hunt me?” I knew I was crossing a line, wavering into territory I wasn’t supposed to. No one had ever said anything about love; no one had ever even used the word.
But I was, I was using it.
Because I couldn’t speak for him but the last two years without him had been suffocating. I wasn’t not eating and barely getting out of bed because I was tortured about that night. Of course, I was affected, but the truth was that I missed his presence, longed for the way he made me feel again. Being around Jackson had always been a million and twelve emotions shooting in and out of my veins and when he went away from me, I crashed hard and fast, barely able to pick myself up off the ground to function again.
“Stop it, Emery.” Jackson froze and turned to me, pain and anger filled his eyes combined with confusion. He moved toward me, his mouth opening slowly. “I’m no
t capable of love. You should get that now more than ever.”
“You aren’t capable of it or you don’t want it?”
“I don’t deserve it,” he seethed harshly.
The door to the room swung open before I could answer and Pierce and Morgan came bursting in. Finally, judging by how slow they got here I knew who not to call in a crisis. They both took in the wrecked room and Jackson’s terror-filled stance.
“Jesus.” Morgan’s eyes grew wide.
“Jackson.” Pierce pushed forward, nearing his brother immediately and placing his hand on his shoulders, steadying him. He must not have liked what he saw there because he glanced at me accusingly. “What the fuck is going on in here?”
The hell if I knew.
Chapter Two
“I’m not capable of anything good.”
EMERY
The house was packed when we walked inside, dozens of heads swirling around and partying in the middle of the afternoon. I cleared my throat and shot Morgan a worried look. Who the hell were all these people and why were they taking over Jackson and Pierce’s house when they weren’t even home?
It shouldn’t have surprised me that the Lucas brothers would be staying in an off-campus house about as big as an entire dorm building, they always did have to have the best. Still, it was hard not to get caught up in the beauty of it. It definitely didn’t look like a pair of dominant and dangerous men lived there.
Some guy almost crashed into me as he jolted out of the living room toward the large stairs in the center of the front lobby. Jackson grabbed him by the arm and yanked him away from me. “Watch where the fuck you’re going,” he roared before pushing the kid away so hard that he stumbled backward and landed on the ground.
Clearly, he was still on edge.
A girl walked by and ran her finger up and down Pierce’s chest. “There you are, baby, I’ve been waiting for you to get home for hours.” She looked at him suggestively. “Time to play?”
I glanced at Morgan but she showed no reaction, as always. It was hard to tell exactly what the deal was with Pierce and her. I knew he drove her crazy but she never showed any signs of anything deeper for him even though the heat between them consumed most of the air around us when they were together. But even if Morgan did have a thing for him, it wasn’t like she would ever admit it. Morgan didn’t admit or talk about anything, sometimes I wondered how it was possible to be so close to someone you felt like you barely knew.
I trusted her but I wasn’t sure she trusted me.
She felt my eyes on her and turned, a blank look on her face. “What?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
Jackson isn’t the only one with secrets.
“Not now,” Pierce said, glancing at Morgan just like I had moments before. “I’m busy.” Maybe he was checking to see if the situation would get a reaction out of here, just like I was, but he should have known by now even if it did Morgan would carry it to her grave.
The girl pouted and Morgan groaned. “Who the hell are these people?” She looked at me again. “In case you forgot shit got kind of intense back there and we were supposed to come back here to wind down, not to cut loose.” She glanced at the girl again. “Do you mind? My best friends life is kind of falling apart here.”
The girl gaped at her in shock and moved toward her. “Excuse me?”
Oh, God, even I knew that was a mistake.
Pierce pulled her back. “I’ll find you later, okay?”
The girl shot Morgan one last look before she scurried away, realizing she had been dismissed. Morgan pretended not to notice and narrowed her eyes in on Jackson and his brother. “Who are all these people?”
Pierce looked at his older brother. “Liam.”
My heart started racing in my chest.
Was Liam here?
“Relax,” Pierce said, reading my face. “He knows not to touch you.”
I looked at Jackson for confirmation but he just clutched his fists to the side of his body at Pierce’s words. I moved closer to him off instinct, pushing my hand through one of his muscular arms.
Jackson clung on tightly and yanked me closer to him. “We’re going upstairs, try to break this mess up, will you?” He started toward the stairs, forcing me to keep up with him.
“Jackson,” Pierce’s tone was laced in disapproval. “We should talk about this.” He took a step closer to us, pushing a group of drunken coeds out of the way and frowning.
Jackson froze but didn’t turn around. “Later.”
“Jackson.”
“I said later.” He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. “Watch her.”
Morgan groaned and Pierce looked at her. “Don’t I always?”
The stairs were large and carpeted, the kind you would see inside a castle and I may as well have been. “It is only the two of you living here, right?” I caught my mistake and bit down on my lip as Jackson pulled me into a door at the beginning of the hall. “I mean three.”
Jackson shut the door behind us and locked it. I took the opportunity to glance around his bedroom. It wasn’t at all what I expected. It wasn’t crowded or dirty. It was neat, concise. You would never know a man who had such dark things running around inside of his soul lived here.
“He won’t touch you,” he said seriously, his voice deeper than normal as he moved closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I’m the only one allowed to touch you.”
Quivers overtook my thighs. “Are you angry at me?”
His eyes went dark again and he moved away from me, sinking into the huge bed that was in front of us covered in a deep red comforter. “I’m always angry at you, Emery. I get angry with you just by looking at you.” He placed his head in his hands. “Among other things.”
I moved closer to the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shot his head up. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
I shrugged, treading lightly. “I don’t know… so I could help you.”
“I don’t need help,” he snapped. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you seemed really fine, Jackson.” I nudged closer to him. “Ripping apart the room back there like you were possessed or something. I’ve never seen you that angry before and I’ve seen you pretty angry.” Jackson didn’t answer, refusing to look at me. “Jackson,” I whispered. “Can you let me in? Just for a second.”
“Why should I?” His voice was so strained I almost couldn’t hear him. “After what you did to my brother.” He looked off into the distance. “You and that bitch.”
I cringed at his words, knowing better than to push the subject right now. “I don’t want to talk about Liam, Jackson, I want to talk about you. That’s who I’m worried about right now.”
“Don’t you get it?” he growled. “We’re the same person.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe that.”
“We may as well be.”
I hated seeing him this way; he wasn’t his usual dark and controlled self. That video had opened up a doorway of pain that he had long ago locked up tightly inside of himself. It was like someone had torn it open and let all his demons loose and they were starving, desperate to sink their rotten teeth into his fresh flesh.
And, boy, were they feasting.
“You aren’t Liam,” I said firmly, really believing it. I wished I knew the right thing to say, wished I could make every ounce of doubt in his mind fly away. I thought I was normally pretty good at giving advice, at being there for people when they let me, but Jackson wasn’t people. He wasn’t your average person. One wrong word could send him back into his shell of coldness. The only thing that had opened it in the first place was that video submitted from a source that wasn’t even brave enough to reveal himself.
Jackson’s shoulders were hunched slightly, his head still facing the ground. I wasn’t even sure he was hearing what I was saying to him but I didn’t plan on backing off. “Who was in that room, Jackson? Who was your father trying to get you and Liam to
punish?”
I could see his eyes closing while he debated whether or not he was going to respond. Just when it seemed like the silence was going to drag on forever he glanced at me in shame. “Pierce.”
“Shit,” I mumbled, turning my hands over in my lap. “Why would he make you do that to him?” I had always thought Mr. Lucas was the perfect father. He was so collected on television, so sharp when you saw him in person. If our state and town only knew what a monster the man they had trusted to represent their rights really was.
“Not just him,” he mumbled. “There were others.”
“Others?”
Jackson looked up with bloodshot eyes. Pain filled eyes. “My father used to take in foster kids, he got off on…” he trailed off and mumbled under his breath. “He used to make us discipline them. It was his way of representing his control over us. He liked… he liked to watch.”
The details were tough to hear but I tried to keep my face neutral, scared he would stop talking if I showed any kind of reaction. “Why would Pierce be locked up like that, though?”
“Pierce is my brother.” Jackson stood up, unable to sit still any longer. “But my blood doesn’t run through him. He used to be one of the fosters that they sent to us, locked up down there…”
A chill ran up and down my body. “But he got adopted.”
Jackson sighed. “He fought back.”
“And he got rewarded for that?” I gaped.
Jackson shifted from one foot to the other and I could tell how uneasy this conversation was making him, how out of his element he felt, and I silently wondered if he had ever talked about this with anyone before. Somehow, I highly doubted it and the fact that he was choosing to tell me even a fraction of what had happened made me feel special.
How screwed up was that?
“My father was used to the kids who came curling up and taking it. Pierce wasn’t like that, he was a fighter, he was scrappy. It intrigued my father, he wanted him.” The emotion was vacant from his tone; as if he was talking about the weather or something else mundane.