by L. J. Woods
The nurse nods with a flirty smile and I hate that I roll my eyes. I’m under his arm, in his hold that’s as confusing as this night. Getting a snack for Willow would be a nice gesture if he didn’t have me cuffed. “You can’t keep me like this, Damien, this is crazy!”
He holds the elevator door for me as we make our way in. There’s a woman on the phone approaching, but once we’re inside, Damien closes the door before she can get in.
“What can I say? I’m crazy about you,” he pulls me towards him by the short chain on the cuffs, his back against the elevator wall. “And I think I’m in love with you.”
“What?” His words are a mallet to my heart, a tornado to my guts.
“You know I am, Jo.”
Being this close to him in an elevator reminds me of the time at the hotel, my cheeks getting warmer. How does he still have that effect on me when everything’s so fucked up?
My gaze drops to the floor, but on the way, I don’t miss the bulge in his pants. Even on a day like today, I can still make the King hard as a steel rod. And why the fuck does that turn me on? “I’m in hell and you’re the fucking devil.”
To that he chuckles, bringing my chin up to meet his gaze again, “Guess that means I’m the only one who can bring you out of it.” And when he kisses me again, I know he’s fucking right. I’m lost in his lips when the metal on my wrists loosens and when I look down, Damien has the key in his grip.
Like the same one he has to my heart.
“This shit is so fucked up.” My forehead falls against his chest, too exhausted to fight anymore. “What are we gonna do?”
His arms pull around me, lips coming to my head. “Keep you safe. At all costs.”
* * *
Our time at the hospital is a blur.
After getting Willow a big bag of food, Damien stopped to buy her a huge teddy bear. It’s so fucking cheesy, you could see the thing from The Grove.
Probably from the guilt.
Who am I kidding? I’m as responsible for my sister’s situation as he is. As responsible for this mess I’m in.
When we finally get to see Willow, there’s colour in her face again, a brightness to her eyes. Her voice sounds as meek as it did when we got here but the small smile she gives tells me she’ll be okay.
The doctor doesn’t keep her for long, Damien making sure he taps any instructions in his phone. I have no idea what my sister went through but I’m never letting her out of my sight again.
Damien agrees, taking us both back to the lake house. He orders a car there and tells him to be quick. The streets are empty as it nears the wee hours and once we’re settled at the house, we get my sister comfy in the guest-room before she’s dozing off in fluffy white sheets. Not wanting to leave her, and still needing time from Damien, I crawl in with her, slipping off my jacket.
With her heavy breaths telling me she’s alive, I try to relax as she drifts deeper into sleep. Exhausted, it’s not long before I do too.
My dreams make me relive that night, replaying the nightmare of the past hours in my head.
Fire.
Blood.
Screams.
Damien.
My eyes shoot open every time they get too intense, my arms sweaty and clammy in my sweater. When I’m startled awake again, the last images on my lids are those heels in the air before cold hands come under me.
“Damien?” The smell of pot and peppermint gives him away as he lifts me off the bed.
He doesn’t answer and if I wasn’t so tired I’d protest. But when he takes me to his bed, my head against his chest, the nightmares finally stop.
BANG!
I’m not sure how much sleep I get, if any real sleep at all when I’m woken up by a loud noise. My eyes spring open, my vision focusing on the closed door.
No one’s in the bed beside me, rumpled sheets and a messy Damien imprint. I can still smell him and I hate that it makes me warm.
My sister’s giggle comes from beyond the door and the beating in my chest slows. She’s okay. She’s here. Alive. And after all that somehow, she’s still laughing. My sister’s stronger than I give her credit for.
Wanting to rub the morning out of my eyes, something holds me back. When I wiggle, I realize I can’t move at all. Rolling from side to side, I’m starting to wonder if I’m dreaming or if I have paralysis. When I roll off the bed, my shoulder hitting the ground hard, I realize what’s happened.
I’m fucking hogtied.
I can’t move my legs or wrists, and when the rope digs into my skin, it’s soft like the stuff Damien uses.
Damien.
“Damien!”
At least he didn’t gag me but now I’m guessing he wishes he did. The rumble of his voice comes from beyond the door before …
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The devil approaches.
The door opens, Damien slipping inside. That devilish smirk appears on his lips when he sees me on the ground. “Well, what have we here?” After he closes the door, he leans against it, crossing his arms, already in a fresh set of clothes. One of his classic black shirts clings to those muscular arms. It reveals his tattoos and those hard pecs that turn me into mush.
“What the actual fuck? Untie me!” Lifting my head off the floor, I make sure he hears me. “Now!”
He tsks, taking a few steps towards me in dark denim jeans but now’s not the time to sneak a peek at his ass. “You know better than to tell me what to do.” Crouching his rumbling voice gets louder, ripping right through my chest.
A purple bruise sits under his eye, the damage from his aunt much more clear on his face now. It breaks my heart but I’m still fucking annoyed. “Why am I tied up? I thought we made a deal.”
“So you didn’t plan on running this morning?” I did and my silence answers his question for him. “Thought so.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaves me on the floor and I can feel his eyes boring into my ass. “If you only knew how good you look in that.”
“You’re sick. I thought we made a deal.”
“Is that what you want?” he asks, his fingers grazing my back. “To finally make a deal?”
His touch sets my skin on fire but I fight it. “As if making a deal with the devil ever brought me any good.” He chuckles and with that, he’s lifting me off the floor, tossing me on the bed like a bail of hay. “Damien!” I yell, landing on my side on the soft mattress.
His lip disappears under his teeth as he watches me, his fingers moving along the rope on my thigh. This would be hot and sensual if I wasn’t so confused by the mess that is my life. This shitty, shitty life. Damien is the only thing that makes me feel anything in it and yet, we’re too fucked up to be together.
‘Untie me!” I yell again. “This isn’t funny!”
“Sssh.” Damien’s finger glides over my ass and I hate that it gives me the shivers. How the fuck did he get me out of my clothes and into these ropes without even waking me up? Passing out with Damien King works better than any drug. Aftereffects included the way he’ll knock you out and fuck you over in the morning.
“So, here’s how it’s gonna go.” His voice is husky when he runs a long finger between my exposed ass cheeks. It makes my ass poke up like I’m possessed, my body craving his touch. It always does. “We’re gonna make the cops believe that Marion killed herself. Plagued by her own existence after her big brother’s death. Lost with no assets of her own.”
“How poetic.”
“Would you rather me tell the cops we pushed her off my house so she wouldn’t kill the love of my life?”
Wait. “The love of yo—” A cold finger lands between my slit, cutting off my words before he chuckles.
“You’re so full of shit, Rowland,” he growls, sliding his fingers between my slit. “You’re always wet for me. Even through all this. You’re as fucked up as I am.”
“I’m not—”
“We don’t go to the cops,” he continues laying the law
as his finger finds my clit and, oh god, he knows just how to play it. With ripples of bliss flowing through me, it’s hard to concentrate on what he’s saying. “We don’t tell anyone about what happened. Not even Willow.”
“Y-you want me to lie to my sister? After all this?”
“We need to protect her. The less she knows the better. Especially with her company.”
Damien has a point. Willow hangs out with the High Gossipists of Elite Royal Academy. She’s not exactly the master at keeping secrets. We shouldn’t risk it. Not if I want my ass to end up back in jail.
“Okay, now can you untie me so we can talk about this like normal people?”
He chuckles again. “We’re far from normal, Jo. The minute you get that through your head the sooner we can go back to being us.”
“Us? You think there’s still an us?”
“It’s always going to be me and you, Medusa,” he says this like he’s thought this through and before I can answer, two of his long fingers slide inside me. No resistance. No pain. And the moan that slips through my lips lets him know how much I actually like it. “Mmm, so,” he grunts, slapping my exposed cheek. “Do we have a deal?”
“D-Damien,” my words come out like a sultry sigh, my body at his mercy. With his hand firm on my ass, he takes that as a cue to pick up his speed. I don’t want him to stop even though I know we should and when his other hand reaches under me, stroking my pearl with his touch, the room blurs. All the agony and pain drift away, my entire body in a heavenly haze.
“Is that a yes?” He rubs my clit fast and hard, bringing me right to the edge. From fifty to one-hundred. He moves one hand, his touch rising off my clit, bringing a finger dripping with my juices to his lips. The way his tongue laps it up as he looks into my eyes makes me break right then and there.
I’m possessed again. “Yes! There!” With his other hand, he finds my spot like a trained miner, my breaths against the sheets. I want him inside me. I want him to take all the confusion and craziness away but all I can say is, “God, yes!”
“That’s what I thought.”
He removes his fingers right when I’m there, but that doesn’t stop my orgasm. My body writhes and squirms even without him.
“I didn’t tell you to come for me, Rowland,” he growls. “I’ll punish you later.”
With a smack on my ass, I’m panting as he unties me, the rope on my skin loosening as the stars from my orgasm fades from my eyes. “Th-that’s not fair!” It’s hard to talk when my body still shivers from his touch. Once the ropes are almost undone, he leans in for a soft, gentle kiss.
Who needs a muscle pack when you’ve got the King? He’s hot and cold in a flash but yet he soothes my muscles inside and out in a way no one else can.
“I own you, Medusa,” he growls near my lips. “Now own that.”
“King?” Christian’s voice calls from downstairs and when I listen, I can hear my sister’s voice greeting Isaac. “Jo?”
“Right on time,” Damien says as I rub my wrists. “Now get dressed, you have class.”
My eyes land on my thighs, red and blue marks on my light brown skin.
“I’m not going to class!” Not like this. Not with a death hanging over my head. “You expect me to go looking like this? After last night?”
“Yeah. I do.” He rises to his feet. “You’re on the line for a scholarship and you’re getting it. All you have to do is show up to class. I’ll handle the rest.”
Knock, knock knock.
There’s a rattle at the door and Damien gets up to crack it open. An olive hand pushes a black garment bag through, “Picked up the stuff you asked me to.” It’s Christian. “Allie could’ve lent her one though.”
Damien grabs the bag and closes the door as I’m scrambling to hide my naked body.
“What the fuck, King?” Christian calls.
Damien places the bag on the bed. “Uniform’s in there. Get dressed.”
“We’re not even gonna talk about this?”
“We did.” He reaches for the door, opening it and I know he’s about to leave if I don’t stop him.
Closing my eyes, I push the words out that I’ve been too afraid to say. “We killed your aunt, Damien!”
SLAM!
The door closes and when I open my eyes, he’s still there. He turns around.
“So what is it?” he asks, jaw tight. “You expect me to feel something for the woman I hardly knew? The bitch who tried to kill me and my girl?”
“No, I—”
“So what is it then?” His arms drop to the side and the coldness in his eyes makes me pull my knees to my chest. “What do you want from me, Rowland?”
I want nothing more than for his big, strong arms to hold me. For this all to be a dream. A nightmare. But I can’t deny it. We’re toxic.
“Tell me about that picture in your wallet,” I say, my chin on my knee, my voice quiet. “The one with my dad and your mom.”
Damien’s body tenses, his hand on the knob. He turns around before he looks over his shoulder with a sigh, “Do what I say, Jo.” He turns the knob. “Get dressed.”
* * *
Christian’s Jag is silent all the way to the Academy. With us all in our clean uniforms, you’d never tell we had the night from hell.
Damien’s the puppet master in this whole thing, keeping everyone in their places, including me. He even got me a crisp new blazer, putting it on my shoulders on the way out like that’ll help piece this imperfect picture together.
It sits under my leather jacket now, my bruised legs in grey knee-highs. I look as put together today as I did on my first day. It’s as suffocating as this whole scenario makes me feel.
Willow’s doing better, so at least there’s that. She texts on her phone the whole ride beside me, Christian and Isaac in the front.
Isaac flicks through the music on his phone connected to the speakers. He keeps stopping on anything that sounds like it should be on the streets of Paris. Accordions mix with upbeat melodies, songs with French words for lyrics. Chewing on my lip, I want to tell him to stop because it sounds like he’s playing the music of our crime. For his sake, I don’t, even though it brings images of a jail cell to my mind.
“Can I tell Bella that we went to The Grove?” Willow asks, energy back in her system. “If I can’t know what really happened, at least it’ll give me an edge.”
After a quick second to think it out, I nod. It stays in line with Damien’s alibi. Turns out, I’m his alibi. It’s a fair trade because he’s my alibi too. His words over coffee replay in my head again.
“We spent the entire night in The Grove. We had a party with a Trailer Trash theme, it was a night to remember. Willow got too fucked up to function and after the hospital, we all came back to the lake house. Got it? No one saw Marion. No one.”
“You do know what happened,” I remind her. Watching as she texts, I make sure she tells Bella the least, but Willow’s going to town on the story. I can’t help but smirk at what I read from the corner of my eye.
Willow: It was so crazy, I nearly died. Wish you could’ve been there, it was INSANE!!
She looks up at me, pulling her phone away before she mumbles, “I don’t know what happened. You guys won’t tell me the truth.”
My eyebrows fall, shoulders dropping with them. Guess this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. “You do know the truth. We took care of Marion.” Isaac turns up the music on the stereo, drowning out my words.
It doesn’t drown out the siren coming up behind us, the lights flashing in the rearview.
Fuuuuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
My breath stops, nails digging into the leather of my seat. When I turn around, the cruiser whips right by us.
Willow rolls her eyes, unfazed. That’s exactly why she can’t know. The guilt I have isn’t hers to bear.
“What does that even mean?” she asks. “For all I know you guys could’ve killed her.”
“No!” I respond way too quickly
before I realize she thinks she’s being dramatic, my voice going above the melody. Pulling Willow closer to me across the backseat, I bring her ear to mine. “Just trust me, okay? Damien and I will handle it.”
“What is there to handle? That woman almost killed us!”
“Low.”
“When did you stop telling me things?” Her head falls, her hair curly around her face. It’s been a while since she’s worn her hair in curls but without a straightener in the lake house, she had no choice. It makes her look like that little girl all over again. “I was scared and alone for so long but I didn’t tell Marion where you were. The least you can do is tell me what happened.”
SLAM!
“You guys ready?” Christian asks. Looking around, we’re already in the ERA parking lot. Isaac’s storming towards the side doors while other students in fancy cars park around us. “I’ll find Allie and tell her the plan.”
Christian gets out of the car but Willow stays, waiting for an answer. Bella waves her over from the side but she doesn’t budge, doesn’t let me off the hook.
“You used to tell me everything before we came here,” she says, eyes searching mine. “What are you hiding?”
Sticking my pinky out I search her eyes for her trust, trying to find that connection that’s slipping away bit by bit. “Low, I promise I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can. We’re just trying to keep you safe, I swear. You still with me?”
She looks at my finger before she leaves me hanging. “Not if I’m gonna get kidnapped again,” she mutters, reaching for the door handle. “Especially not if I don’t get to know why.”
“Low!” I call after her but the door closes before she skips towards someone she now trusts more than her own sister.
Six
Jo
If ERA burned down at this very moment, I wouldn’t give a fuck.
I’d be ecstatic that I didn’t have to go through the torture of this day.
Christian and Isaac are both gone when I’m finally out of the car and I never thought I’d be wishing for Damien to still be here. At least he’d be a distraction.