by Skye Warren
“Then she can come with me,” I say, nudging Penny’s foot under the table. It would help if she’d back me up. She continues to stare into her teacup. “If it’s safer there, then she’ll be safer, too.”
Damon frowns, watching Penny with a dark expression. “Take her.”
Without another word, he pushes back from the table and throws down his napkin. He strides from the room at a clipped pace, not looking back.
“What happened to her?” I ask Gabriel.
He shakes his head, expression grim. “You don’t want to know.”
“I should know if I’m going to help her.”
“I’m not sure there’s any help for someone who’s been through that.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
He meets my gaze, his golden eyes blazing. “I saw a lot of fucked-up shit at the whorehouse growing up. Women raped, hurt. Beaten until they weren’t recognizable. And still I never saw anything like this.”
My heart thuds, imagining that little boy watching such violence. Being part of it. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, little virgin. I could have freed you. Never forget that. I could have paid a million dollars and then walked away, never fucking that pretty little cunt.”
The words I’m glad you didn’t sit on the edge of my tongue. I can’t quite say them. I would have gone on with my life. Would have gone back to Smith College. I can’t even imagine that life now, but it was the one I wanted for too long to throw it away.
He smiles without humor. “He fucked her. And then he drowned her.”
I suck in a breath. “How did she—”
“Survive? Dear old Dad made sure to put a call in to Damon. He had no idea if he’d find a dead body at the bottom of the pool.”
“Thank God he didn’t.”
“What Jonathan Scott did to her… Most people would rather have died. So now you know why I keep you locked up. Why I’ll continue to lock you up. To keep you away from him. To keep you for myself. There’s really no end to the depraved things I want to do to you. We’re not so different.”
My stomach clenches. “What you do to me is nothing like what he did to her.”
“It’s convenient that you think so.” He tosses back the rest of his coffee. “Because I don’t plan to stop. Not for Jonathan Scott. Not for anyone. You’re mine, and I damn well keep what’s mine.”
Chapter Fourteen
“So dark,” Penny whispers, staring ahead.
Every single light in the guest bedroom is on, including a lamp on the bedside table and a small chandelier overhead. There’s also a night-light plugged into the wall, its tiny light barely adding to the blaze. None of it seems to penetrate her mind.
“Shh.” I smooth back her hair. “Don’t try to figure it out right now. Rest.”
I never thought of myself as a nurturing person. I always assumed that when I had a child, the instinct would be gifted to me, some kind of biological imperative. Maybe Justin and I would have gotten a puppy to practice, something purebred with a glossy coat.
“Sleep now,” I whisper, stroking her hair.
Whatever the reason, Penny seems to have taken to me. She goes completely silent whenever Damon comes near her. And she shrieked when Mrs. B tried to help her take a bath. I’ve been by her side in the three days since we came back to Gabriel’s estate.
It’s been a relief to have someone with me, since Gabriel has been gone during the day.
Finally her eyes drift shut. It’s a small comfort that she doesn’t seem plagued by nightmares. She lives in an almost catatonic state during the day, but she seems to sleep peacefully at night.
Her breathing evens out, and I continue to stand vigil. Looking at her delicate features, it’s hard to imagine someone doing what Jonathan Scott did. Violence is never acceptable, but with her pale skin and golden curls she looks angelic. What kind of monster could hurt her?
The same monster who killed my mother.
The same one who threatens me.
A shiver runs through me. There’s no reason to feel uneasy, not when I’m so safe here. West came in to check on me an hour ago. His men patrol the estate. No one could break in here, so why can’t I shake the feeling that I’m not alone? It’s not only Penny’s fragile presence that pierces the air.
I wish Gabriel were here. It always calms me, as if nothing can touch me. Not even a bullet.
That’s how I drift to sleep, curled protectively around Penny’s body.
The shadows shift in my mind, changing from man to monster and back again. Whenever I think I’ve pinned him down, he melts into the blackness—only to reappear from a different angle. He isn’t real, I tell myself. Then why can I hear him laughing?
The sound of laughter jolts me awake. It’s not a dream.
It’s here. It’s really happening. I can hear him.
“Gabriel?” I say, my voice shaking.
For a long moment the only thing I hear is the ringing in my ears. It was only a dream. It must have been. What’s the alternative? That I’m crazy? That the house has been invaded?
That Gabriel has been my enemy all along?
I do feel like I’m going crazy, especially since Penny sleeps peacefully.
My eyes close, fighting the wave of nausea.
That’s when I hear him. “Don’t say you forgot me. You’ll hurt my feelings.”
Wild drumbeats pound through my veins. I scramble from the bed, gaze darting around the brightly lit room. No one’s here with me. “Who are you?”
Another laugh, like in my dream. “I’m the monster under your bed.”
The words are as clear as if someone’s speaking to me, a disembodied voice from my nightmares. Familiar and yet strange. Close and yet completely unknown. Panic squeezes my chest in a vise. I’m afraid to leave Penny alone with the voice, but I’m more afraid that it will follow me. It’s not the house that’s haunted—it’s me. I’m going insane.
I run from the room as if my life depends on it, sightless, gasping—and run straight into a hard chest. A whimper escapes me as I scramble back. It takes half a second for my sight to focus on Gabriel, on his narrowed golden eyes, and by then he’s seen too much.
“What’s wrong?” he says, taking a step into the room.
The way he stands, it’s like he’s poised for battle. He would take on an army for me, but there isn’t an army. There isn’t even a single man to fight. Only the demons in my mind.
“Nothing,” I say too fast.
He glances back, disbelieving. “You look terrified, Avery.”
It’s telling that he calls me Avery now. Not little virgin. He isn’t playing with me. I’m not playing either, but I can’t tell him. He wouldn’t believe me. Or worse, he would. I can’t stand the thought of him thinking I’m crazy. And it would be even worse for him to know I doubt him.
He might be my enemy, but by God, if he’s my hero, he doesn’t deserve my doubt.
“I had a bad dream,” I say, which isn’t a complete lie.
It’s just that I’m living my nightmare.
His blunt fingers brush the hair from my face. He examines my eyes with an intensity that makes me blush. It’s like he can see all my secrets, especially the ones I don’t want to share. “I know you’re keeping things from me,” he murmurs. “And maybe you’re allowed your secrets. God knows I have my own.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “I do trust you.”
Which isn’t a complete truth. I trust him more than I trust myself.
He cocks his head. “You would tell me if you were in danger.”
Without meaning to, I take a step back. “Yes.”
Anger clouds his gaze. “Goddamn it, little virgin. Do I need to find an even smaller cage to keep you in? How tight do I have to lock you up to know that you’re safe?”
I shiver beneath his regard. “Maybe we could stay at the Den.”
No voices spoke to me there.
He shakes his head. “That’s D
amon’s place.”
My eyebrows rise. “You don’t trust him? I thought you were friends.”
“I don’t trust anyone when it comes to your safety.”
“Even West?” The ex-military man looks extremely dangerous, but he’s always been respectful. Even though there are a huge number of men guarding the estate, it’s only West who interacts with me. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.
“I don’t need to trust West. I pay him enough that I don’t have to.”
A small laugh filters through my fear. “Only you would say that.”
“And he knows I would kill him if anything happened to you.”
“Did you find him?” I ask, and he knows who I mean.
“Not yet, but we will.” The same answer, a little less believable each time he gives it. I know how much power Gabriel wields, both physically and financially. How much influence he has in this city. But there are limits to everything. What if it’s just not enough?
I look away, focusing on the footboard of the bed. Penny has been staying in this guest room since her arrival. I’ve spent hours each day in this room, but I only now notice the ivy engraved into the wood. It climbs the bed, spiraling upward, almost stifling in its thickness.
“Promise me something,” I whisper.
“What?”
“That if he finds a way to catch me, you’ll let me go.”
The sudden intake of breath is my only warning. He hauls me into his arms, forcing my jaw up, meeting my gaze with blazing fury. “What the fuck did you say to me?”
It’s hard to speak with his grip clamping my face, but this is too important. “You said yourself that most people would rather be dead.”
And if I’m at the bottom of a pool, I want to stay there. Not end up a broken shell in Gabriel’s guest room. He would be racked with guilt. I’ve already seen what he does to himself about Hannah. This would be worse.
A lifetime of fighting has made him into a warrior.
But this…this could break him.
He bends his head—to kiss me, I think. Until I feel his teeth sink into my lip. The pain makes me cry out. A burst of copper spreads over my tongue. He licks to soothe me.
“There is no place he could take you that I wouldn’t follow, little virgin. I will climb into the depths of hell to get you back. That’s my promise.”
Chapter Fifteen
I walk away from Gabriel, which I know is a mistake. Turning your back on a predator. Leaving yourself vulnerable. And even with that knowledge, it’s a surprise to feel Gabriel’s hand on the back of my neck.
Only a touch. There aren’t any teeth, at least not literally.
Still, I flinch at the bite.
I guess that’s what makes me prey. That and the fact that I follow where he directs me, the subtle command guiding me down the hall and onto the balcony, where the chess set is reflecting moonlight, both the light and dark sides.
“Shall we play?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question.
It also doesn’t sound like he’s talking about chess.
Frequently our games devolve into sex. Or maybe devolve isn’t the right word, since it’s part of the same thing. Chess is like foreplay for us, a give-and-take, a mental seduction that turns both of us on.
I should probably be worried that we do the equivalent of slaughtering each other, if only symbolically. Remembering my hands on the wide stone railing, Gabriel’s harsh breath behind me, I know I’m too far gone to care.
This time he doesn’t even seem like he’s going to play, at least not like before. He usually seats me on the white side, giving me the first turn. Last time it was enough to best him.
Now he changes the rules, moving first. In the form of his hand sweeping across the marble chessboard, heavy pieces falling to the balcony floor. The movement takes me by surprise, drawing a gasp from me, my hand to my throat. This is how he wants to play today.
I take a step back. “You’re in a mood.”
“Am I?” he says, stalking forward.
“And I don’t like it.”
“True or false. Avery James doesn’t like when I’m rough with her. When I’m cruel and hard and dangerous with her. But how will we test the theory?”
When I hit the railing, I curve to the side. My hands grasp the stone, sightless. “We won’t.”
“Maybe we’ll test your sweet cunt. See if you’re swollen and pink, hungry for my cock. See if you’re wet for me. Are you?”
“I don’t like you when you’re like this.”
He touches my throat, in that hollow point where my hand flew in surprise, that vulnerable place that my body understands instinctively. He understands it, too. “I think you do, but more to the point, I don’t care. Not right now. Because I don’t like you lying to me.”
“I didn’t lie,” I protest, feeling my pulse thud against his fingers.
“What were you afraid of? In the room just now? Something happened. I can see the knowledge in your pretty eyes even if I don’t know the details.”
And he never will. I lift my chin. “I had a nightmare.”
“Well, well. Maybe the little virgin really has grown into a woman. Little liar, that’s what I’ll have to call you now. You looked right into my eyes while you did it.” The eyes that glow with ferocity.
I shrink away, looking to the side. “We’re not going to play tonight.”
“We’re already playing, little liar. That began when you said nothing happened.”
It’s not only that I want to keep my secrets—it’s that I don’t fully understand the confession. I’m afraid of Gabriel, afraid of myself. Afraid of the unknown voice that spoke to me. It isn’t the voice that feels like a dream. It’s this. Life. Death. Only the sex grounds me in anything real.
“Please,” I whisper. I grasp his hand, which only makes me feel smaller. Powerless. He’s so much larger than me. Sometimes it feels like his presence takes up that space, but no. I feel the muscle beneath my touch. I can’t even circle my fingers around his wrist, not completely.
“Please what?”
Please don’t make me tell you, don’t make me explain what I don’t even understand. Please touch me so that I forget all about being afraid, if only for an hour.
“Please, Gabriel.”
His eyes flare. I feel the tension in his body. He likes the word; I knew he would. We’re playing this game, and this was my move. He pulls me back to the metal table with its empty chess set. We both ignore the beautiful pieces strewn about. They’re casualties in this war. We’re the ones left standing.
His hands circle my waist, gently touching, measuring. Feeling me. That’s the only warning I have before he lifts me onto the table. I shriek and grasp his arms. “I’m too heavy.”
“Hmm,” he says, keeping me there. “Marble pieces, triple weighted. Almost six inches high, wouldn’t you say? Altogether I think they weigh more than you.”
“Unlikely. Sixteen pieces? They don’t weigh ten pounds each.”
He smiles. “Then I’ll have to admit I made sure the table could hold a person.”
“Did you have this set made for us, too?” Like the wood set in the library.
His gaze flicks over the intricate marble sculptures as if seeing them for the first time. “No, that would be extravagant. These came from an ancient royal family in Southern Italy, passed down through generations.”
“Not extravagant at all,” I say drily. “How did you come by it? Pillaging? Thievery? Or did you find it in the bargain bin at the Tanglewood pawn shop?”
“As a matter of fact, this was a gift. Does it shock you that my business interests are international?”
“It shocks me that someone would give you a gift.”
A low laugh. “You have quite a mouth on you.”
“I thought you liked my mouth.”
“I love your mouth, even when it’s telling me lies.”
My lips press together. “You aren’t going to offer to put my mouth to
better use?”
“Especially when it’s telling me lies,” he muses. “How perverse of me.”
“Or maybe you’ll give me something to hold in my mouth instead of talking back to you.” I don’t know what’s gotten into me, only that we’ve moved past sparring with wooden pieces, with marble. All I have left are words, and it’s a fight to the death.
“No,” he says gently. “Use your mouth however you want. I’m sure I’ll love whatever you say.”
With that he kneels between my legs, his eyes glinting with dark intent. Oh God. His palm shoves my leg aside. By the time I realize what he has planned, it’s too late to protect myself. My legs are spread wide, the marble cool against the bottoms of my thighs.
He stares at the shadow between my legs, and I ache to know what he sees. I’ve seen this board a hundred times, the pieces in a thousand configurations. But I have no idea what I would look like, laid bare to him. It’s a little like being pillaged, the way I suggested he did to get the set. That’s not so far from how he got me.
A deep sigh escapes him, male satisfaction mixed with lust. “Pink,” he says simply.
My sex. And I’m wet, too. I’m sure I am. My cheeks flush hot. “Are you only going to look?”
He runs a blunt fingertip down my slit. “Much more than that.”
“Are you only going to touch?”
“You want me to wreck you, do you? You’re begging for it.”
“No.”
“Little liar,” he says fondly.
Then he nudges his head between my legs. I jolt up at the electric touch of his mouth to my core. His hands are prepared, holding me down on the board. My muscles ripple against the marble, unable to move. There’s no give here—not from the stone and not from his hands. Not from his mouth, either. He licks from the base of my body to my clit, slow, as if he’s savoring my taste.
He’s tasted me before, but never on top of a chess set. Never with my cunt touching marble, the temperature shocking—and still not as shocking as his tongue, his teeth.
Definitely never with my juices leaking down to the board.
Firmly he pushes my legs wider. I have to lean back to keep my balance, both hands on the round metal edge of the table behind me. He cants my legs onto his shoulders. Nothing anchors me but him.