by Penelope Sky
We sat together on the couch in my bedroom, the game on the TV above the fireplace and next to her painting. It was a nighttime ritual we did now, spent the evening together watching TV before dinner.
She was snuggled into my side, her hand planted on my thigh, her head against my shoulder. She was in her dress with her heels kicked off, and I was in my sweatpants. She pushed off me then regarded me, her eyes filling with that same sadness she’d showed days ago. “Tell me about your family.”
I ignored the TV even though it was a game I wanted to watch. My focus was on her—like always. “Mother was a homemaker. Magnus and my sister were twins. My older brother was a great soccer player.”
“Magnus had a twin?”
I nodded. “He lost his other half. It still bothers him.”
“I can only imagine…”
“You would never guess I had a great childhood, judging by the way it ended. But I did. We had a nice home in Paris. We all went to private school. My mother was the best cook. She could have had the nanny chauffeur us around, but she also chose to do those things herself. She’d make us breakfast, take us to school in the morning, be there for all the performances and games. We’d spend our summer vacation at our other home in Tuscany. Attended events in society because of our status. But our mother never allowed our wealth to turn us into smug kids. She kept us humble.”
“She sounds like a great mom…”
My head turned back to the TV. “She was.” She thought money was the root of all evil, and she was right, because it was the reason she was murdered in her sleep.
“Is that why…you won’t sleep with me?”
I turned back to her. “Yes.”
She gave a slight nod, but her eyes suggested she’d already figured that out. “I understand now.”
I looked at the TV.
Her eyes remained on my face. “But you know I would never…” She shook her head, her voice getting choked up. “I would never hurt you.” She leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my shoulder.
I did know that.
“I won’t ask you again, but…I just want you to know that.” She kept her lips there and breathed against me, her hand planting against my chest as she plastered herself to me, like she wanted to crawl inside and live there.
My chin turned back to her, and I pressed a kiss to her hairline. I left it there, my hand cupping the back of her head, cherishing her for the gift she was. The moment our eyes met, I knew.
Eyes locked.
Our bodies in unison.
Her body engulfing mine.
My body weak for hers.
Breathing the same air. Breathing at the same time.
The beat of our hearts.
I wanted her every night. I wanted her always. But it wasn’t her body that satisfied me.
It was something else.
Something I couldn’t get when I went into her bedroom and fucked her like a whore. I got what I needed and left, but it was never close to what I felt when we were together like this.
It was therapy.
It fixed my broken heart. It faded my scars. It brought me peace.
We moved together. We came together. We lay together. It was perfect every time, satisfying despite its repetitiveness. It was beautiful like the art that I admired. She captured me so deeply, so completely, that I was lost without her.
We lay together in the darkness, still close together despite the heat on our skin and underneath it. My arms enveloped her, bars of a steel cage, to keep everything out, not to force her in.
Her fingertips brushed against my jawline, feeling the coarse shadow that darkened my face. With eyes on me, she spoke. “I understand you. I feel closer to you. I feel the pain that you carry… I can’t explain it.”
Neither could I.
“I would never ask you to change. I would never want you to.”
My lungs sucked in a breath at her admission, feeling a deeper connection to her than before, because she accepted me.
“But that doesn’t mean it can’t be different…”
My eyes narrowed on her face.
“I know you know what you’re doing is wrong…so just change that aspect—”
“No.” My voice rose out of anger because she’d dangled her acceptance then took it away. My arms loosened on her body. My touch withdrew.
Her eyes filled with pain. “You can still operate the camp. Just release the girls—”
“I said no.” I got out of bed and pulled on my boxers.
She sat up. “Why?”
“Because it doesn’t work in any other way. I’ve tried.” I sat at the edge of the bed, looking out the dark window.
“Then try again—”
“Enough.” I rose to my feet. “Go to bed.”
She left the sheets and stood on the rug naked, her eyes following me as I moved around the bed toward her. “After everything that happened to your mother and sister…you really think this is okay?”
My eyes shifted back and forth as I stood in front of her. “Never said it was.”
“Then stop—”
“I can’t.”
Her eyes filled with pain as she breathed harder, losing a battle she’d assumed she would win. “You have the money. You have the title. You have the woman. You have—”
“It will never be enough. Not after what he stole from us.”
She shook her head, looking at me with sheer disappointment. “Your mother wouldn’t want this—”
That look just killed me. “She didn’t want to be killed in her sleep either. My mother would have wanted a lot of things but didn’t live long enough to want them in the first place. Bad shit happens to good people.” My voice rose in my rage. “It doesn’t make it right, but that’s life. Accept it.”
She shook her head as her eyes watered. “Let it go—”
“Never.” I stepped closer to her, my eyes drilling into her face with anger.
“This isn’t who you are.”
“It’s exactly who I am.” I got in her face, nostrils flaring, arms shaking. “Accept me.”
Tears dripped down her cheeks. “I accept you. I love you. But I don’t accept this part because it’s not who you are. I believe there’s more to you, and the reason I believe that is because I love you so much.” She cried harder in front of me, pleading, tugging on my heartstrings in the way I hated. “I won’t give up on you. I know you’ll let the past go…and do the right thing—”
“Get out.” I wouldn’t listen to this bullshit anymore. I shared my past with her so she could understand, not so she would try to change what was unchangeable. There was no other way—and nothing would stop me.
She continued to cry in front of me.
“Don’t make me ask you again.”
Her clothes were left behind as she fled, the tears loud through the hallway when she left. Her door slammed shut a moment later. Even though it was impossible, I could still hear her cries.
I could hear them haunting me.
Torturing me.
I left the next morning without saying goodbye.
It was an impromptu visit to the camp, but that was how I liked to work.
No one knew when I would move.
And I didn’t want to see Melanie for a few days. I was pissed she’d made that attempt after I’d bared my soul to her, and I was pissed at myself for making my woman cry like that.
I hated her for doing that. For making me hurt her. For making me disappoint her. For making me the villain.
When I was the victim a million times over.
I made the drive with my hand tight on the steering wheel, speeding around the cars that wouldn’t get the fuck out of my way. Music didn’t distract me from my thoughts, and I was hit with a flood of flashbacks.
All of Chérie.
The men were surprised at my arrival, but they had a fresh horse for me to ride across the well-beaten path flattened by wagons and horses. I rode hard and made it to the camp right at dusk.
All I wanted to do was see Magnus—and get to work.
I passed between two cabins then moved past the clearing, seeing the empty picnic tables where the women worked. My eyes flicked to the noose there. The ground below wasn’t covered with red snow—but the earth was tinted red. My gaze lingered for seconds, a chasm forming in my chest and filling with sensations I couldn’t understand. I looked away and kept going.
Then I heard a scream pierce the night.
“Magnus!” A woman screamed with the full capacity of her lungs.
I stilled. My eyes scanned the area. I searched for the source.
“Please!” Tears broke her voice. “Please let me go.”
I moved forward, circumvented a cabin in my way, and then spotted the scene.
Alix had Raven by the hair, and he dragged her naked body across the ground, her skin getting caked with dust. Tears stained her cheeks, and the identical eyes she shared with Melanie showed the exact same look of despair I’d seen dozens of times.
My eyes lifted to Alix, who was too busy sneering down at her to notice. He gave her scalp a painful tug to make her cry out again, as if torturing Magnus, who was nowhere around. There was only one reason he wouldn’t be around.
I stopped in front of Alix and stared.
He seemed to feel my presence because he looked up.
And paled.
He stopped dragging Raven. He stopped breathing. He met my gaze and swallowed. Alix was a grown-ass man, but he turned into a boy when he was the recipient of my stare. There were no breaths. No movements. It was as if he were scared to move.
If Raven looked at me, I didn’t notice.
Rage burned inside me, bubbling like boiling water. “Let her go.”
Alix obeyed and let her collapse to the dirt.
The door to the guards’ cabin burst open—and Magnus ran out and nearly tripped on the stairs because he was in such a rush to get to Raven.
Eric and Nathan emerged from behind him.
I didn’t look at my brother again, my fury reserved for the man I wanted to butcher with a butter knife. My anger was audible without my voice rising a single decibel, so I didn’t need to scream to express my disappointment. “This woman doesn’t belong to you—and you know that.”
Alix was stupid enough to argue, to somehow justify his actions, to somehow pretend he hadn’t been caught with his pants down. “She’s a prisoner—”
“Don’t. Speak.”
Alix inhaled a deep breath, growing so timid at my stare that he dropped his gaze.
Good. “She belongs to Magnus.” I pulled a blade from my pocket and placed the tip right against Alix’s heart, the point digging into the fabric of his shirt. “Touch her again, and I will not hesitate to slam this deep into your heart and make it stop.”
Alix didn’t even breathe.
Magnus yanked his shirt over his head and dropped it over Raven’s body when he reached her.
She pulled the shirt to her thighs before she clung to him, holding on like she was too afraid to let go. Silent tears still dripped down her cheeks. Her body convulsed in a way I’d never seen before, even when she was whipped.
Magnus displayed the kind of affection I gave Chérie—cupping her face and brushing away her tears. It was a quick moment, only lasted a few seconds, but it showed a side to my brother I’d never seen. He helped her to her feet.
My eyes shifted back to Alix to continue the showdown. “Magnus was punished for his crimes. He’s increased shipments to distributors, lost his own pay to make up for losses, rebuilt this camp, and has atoned for those sins. If you can’t let your need for revenge die, then perhaps you need to die.” I meant every fucking word—because no one crossed my brother. Fucking no one.
Alix kept a straight face, but it was obvious he was scared, judging by the way he didn’t have strength in his gaze anymore. There was no sinister smile, no confidence in his posture. His shoulders sagged, like he wanted to disappear.
I turned to look at my brother head on. Terror. Rage. Trauma. Eric and Nathan must have held him down in the cabin while Alix dragged her away. I turned back to Alix. “This has been going on a while, hasn’t it?”
I spoke to Alix, but I was actually speaking to my brother.
Silence.
I shifted my gaze back to Magnus.
His mouth was shut tight.
Alix looked at him, like he knew Magnus would throw him under the bus.
But he didn’t.
I looked at Alix again. “He’s not a snitch. Looks like it’s your lucky day, Alix.” My knife was sheathed. “I won’t pretend to understand my brother’s fascination with this unremarkable cunt, but as long as she is his, she’s off-limits. Do you understand?”
Alix nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“The only reason I won’t kill you is because Magnus stirred unrest in this camp. But you’re even now. Cross my brother again, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” I turned to see the guards on the porch of the cabin and raised my voice. “All of you.” I stepped away and moved to my brother, ignoring Raven altogether, and nodded in the direction of my cabin. Then I took the lead, knowing he would follow.
We made it into my cabin, and after we took our seats and poured our scotch, the guards brought my dinner—a well-done steak with potatoes and asparagus. The guard dismissed himself, and we were surrounded in solitude once more.
Magnus was quiet, as if he needed time to process what had just happened.
I was hungry, so I cut into my steak and shoved pieces into my mouth.
Magnus stared at me, his palms together. “Thank you. I know you probably did it for Melanie, but—”
“No.” I shook my head. “I did it for you.”
Magnus stilled at my admission, his eyes filling with a look of gratitude. “Then I appreciate it even more.”
I was so pissed at Melanie right now that I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t want to save her sister. I didn’t want to spare someone who would never spare me. But I did it for her, too—even if I wouldn’t admit it. “How long has this been going on?”
We talked about the events in the camp as I ate my dinner, washing it down with scotch that hit me harder than usual because I had weaned myself off it. My plate was wiped clean, so I sat with my glass in hand.
“You didn’t bring Melanie with you.”
“No.” I took a drink.
He must have detected my tone because he said, “Everything alright?”
I pictured the way she’d sobbed in front of me in my bedroom, pleading for me to be someone I wasn’t. “Just need some space.”
Magnus let it go, and our conversation turned to Napoleon. When I returned to Paris, we both had an event where he would attend. My brother couldn’t contain his objection and reminded me once again that it wasn’t a good fit.
I didn’t care.
“I’d like to bring Raven, if that’s okay.”
My eyes narrowed on his face. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but Raven doesn’t hold a candle to Stasia, so I have to ask…what’s wrong with your dick?” His expression remained hard, doing his best to keep back his offense. “I don’t think Melanie is as remarkable as you claim.”
I couldn’t suppress the grin on my face because I didn’t believe that for a second. Melanie was the best cut of meat, but I’d beat him to the punch. He was stuck with the cut no one else wanted.
“Raven would like to see her.”
“Yeah, bet she would.” I set down my glass and released a long, drawn-out breath. I didn’t want to see Raven in any capacity, but after what my brother just had to go through, I wanted to honor any request he made. “Fine.”
He couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face. It quickly turned
into a look of gratitude.
Silence lingered. I nursed the scotch with my lips, my eyes on the unlit fireplace. When Melanie woke up and realized I’d gone, she would probably be angry with me. After I returned home, she would probably ignore me the way I ignored her. I hated that cold shoulder. I hated that anger in her eyes. But if she didn’t want me to leave, she shouldn’t have demanded something I’d never offered. I never pretended to be anything less than what I was. My honesty was prevalent in every word, every look, every touch.
“I have another request.”
My thoughts were so deep that I’d forgotten he was there. My eyes shifted back to him.
“I’d like to buy Raven’s freedom.”
The glass was held to my lips, but I didn’t take a drink. My hand shook slightly before it lowered back to my knee. The look I gave him must have been sharp because his eyes turned guarded in preparation for my wrath. “No.”
“I will pay you whatever you want—”
“There’s not enough money in the world, Magnus.” I set the glass back on the coffee table.
He should just let it go, but he didn’t. “She’ll still be a prisoner. But she’ll be my prisoner—”
“Not good enough.”
“Melanie would appreciate it—”
“And she’s asked many times. My answer has never changed.” The only reason I didn’t scream at him was because of the scene I’d just witnessed. He wanted to remove her from the camp because she was clearly unsafe here. When I vacated the premises, the guards might creep in once more. “It won’t change for you either. She had her opportunity to be free, but she chose to spend that freedom burning down my camp, the place I built with my bare hands alongside you. She chose to destroy the thing I care most about. So, no, she will never get the offer again. I granted her mercy once—and she chose to piss it away.”
Magnus asked to leave the camp early.
He wanted to give Raven a change of scenery after what she’d suffered.
I allowed it because I didn’t want to look at her anyway.
Magnus and I walked together to the wagons that were tied to the horses. The drugs were packed and covered in the rear, ready to be transported to their next drop-off point. Magnus offered to do the job so I could keep an extra man at the camp.