This seems to appease the tyrant. "Good thinking, son. I only have to hold her until tomorrow."
"What is going to happen tomorrow?" Lucien asks.
"I'm having a party tomorrow night to announce I'm entering the gubernatorial race."
"Why does Raven need to be guarded for the party?" Lucien pushes.
"Not that it's your concern," Damien huffs, "but there are deals that must be made to ensure the political machine works in my favor."
"And the cost of this machine?" Lucien asks.
"I've arranged for Raven to marry George Campbell. In return, his corporation will finance my campaign and influence the other major players."
"Campbell? Isn't he like fifty?" my brother asks. His voice is quiet, but I detect an edge to his silence.
My father shrugs as if the age of the man he plans to hand me off to, without even telling me, is of little significance to him. "George, Jr. is in his thirties. Not that it would matter, this is a business deal."
"She's your daughter," Lucien pushes.
"And she'll do her duty for this family as you always have. Would you have her be treated special?"
Lucien tips his head. "Of course not, father. Since this deal is obviously important I'll bring Sin with me to stand guard."
My father pats Lucien on the shoulder, and I feel Lucien's muscles coil in reaction to his touch.
"I'm glad I can depend on you, son." Father departs back down the hall.
"Let's go upstairs," Lucien orders.
Woodenly, I let the two of them guide me back up the stairs. Images of overweight, sweaty old men dance in my head. I've only ever dated one boy, secretly of course, and tomorrow my father expects me to agree to marry a man I've never met?
The human mountain stands at the end of the hallway once again. I'm not sure what he's guarding exactly since it's fairly clear they know I'm not in my room.
"Thanks, Joe, you can go ahead and go. Damien wants us to keep an eye on her until the party tomorrow," Lucien tells him.
"Of course, sir." Joe's steps echo down the hall and then the stairs as he descends.
Lucien leads me into my room, only he and Sin don't leave me alone as I have been for three days. They close the door behind us, and I see a warning in Lucien's eyes to stay quiet.
Out of the pocket of his hoodie he pulls out something that looks like a phone, only a little thicker. He pushes some buttons, then puts it back in his pocket only to pull out another device. This looks more like a remote control than a phone.
The device makes beeping sounds all over the room. "That sick fucker," he spits out.
My ghost, or rather Sin, crosses his arms and glares at the walls. "I'm not standing by and letting your father pass her off to that animal Campbell."
"I only know that his father is a monster; I've never heard anything about his son," Lucien points out.
Sin shakes his head. "Right. I'm sure his son decided suddenly he wanted a very young wife. You may not have heard about his son, but I have. Up until now I'd always heard he was gay. So, regardless of the fact your sister is a beauty, I don't think she's enticed him to change his sexual orientation."
Lucien picks up a lamp from the bedside table and chucks it across the room. I flinch at the sound of the glass shattering, afraid it will bring back the guard who’d been stationed outside of my room.
My stomach drops hearing his assessment of the man my father plans to give me to.
"This speeds things up a lot." Lucien grasps at his hair and pulls. "We don't have time to get a bug out bag together. We are going to need fake ID's, money, clothes, and we can't exactly go running around throwing that shit together, or Damien is going to get suspicious."
Sin leans back against the wall. "I've got all of that taken care of. Well, I don't have girl's clothes or an ID for her, but we've got enough to get out of here and get settled somewhere until we regroup."
He turns his gaze on me and regards me cooly. "Please tell me you have something else to change into. You look like a cupcake in that ridiculous dress."
I look down at the mess of a dress I have been forced to wear all day. It occurs to me the reason I am dressed in these silly outfits since I'd arrived from school is because someone was getting off watching me change and be dressed like a little girl. The realization makes bile rise in my throat, but I force it back down.
"I haven't seen my regular clothes since I arrived."
Sin's eyes narrow, but he doesn't reply. Instead he moves to the window, pushes it open, and scrambles out.
My mouth pops open, but Lucien covers it with his hand before I can make a sound. "He'll be fine," he whispers. "He's like a cat. Sin always lands on his feet."
Ten minutes pass before Sin's dark head pokes through the open window again. Silently he slithers inside, dragging a stuffed backpack along with him. "I still had some of my old things in my room. They'll do for now."
He shoves the bag into my hands and pushes me into the bathroom. I resist, and he stops trying to move me. "Would you go change already?"
"Are there cameras in the bathroom? I think it would tip them off if I show up in there since we are still standing in the middle of the room on their feed. Also, they'll wonder where I got the clothes from."
"We can't risk it," Lucien agrees with me. "We'll turn our backs, just hurry. The guards at the front gate change in fifteen minutes, and we still have to get out of the house."
We've been up in my room for less than an hour, but I could smell the alcohol on Damien's breath when he grabbed my arm. Yet another ugly truth I learned about the man who spawned me this week, he's a drunk.
"Everyone downstairs was well past drunk when we found your father. I paid one of the maids to keep him occupied for the rest of the night," Sin tells us.
Both guys turn around. I dig through the bag and find a pair of boys ripped jeans. I can tell immediately that they'll be a little snug. What kind of man holds on to clothes he likely hasn't been able to wear for at least six or seven years?
I pull the ruffled disaster over my head, and stand in my matching bra and panties. When I drop the dress something in the window catches my eye. Glancing over, I see Sin's reflection. His eyes follow me, and I realize if I can see him he can see all of me as well.
When he realizes I can see him, he doesn't look away like someone who's been caught doing something wrong. He holds my gaze and smirks. It's the closest I've gotten to a smile from him, and it makes my heart thunder in my chest.
There's more than one kind of danger, and I know I'm just exchanging one for the other being close to Sin.
Beautiful Broken Things
Sin
Lucien stands next to me with his eyes clenched shut to keep him from accidentally getting an eyeful of his sister's naked flesh, like I am right now. I wasn't raised to be a gentleman, so when she catches me watching her I don't look away.
She starts to cover herself with her arms, then lets them fall to her sides. Her tiny pointed chin jerks up in defiance, and I long to bend her and break her until her jagged edges match mine.
Lucien will kill me if he catches on to the direction of my thoughts. For a long time I'm the closest he has had to family, but the temptress behind me is the real deal. He's secretly longed for someone to care for who might care for him in return, and he's not going to like sharing her with me.
Slowly, as if her main desire in life is to drive me out of my fucking mind, she pulls my old jeans up her long, pale legs. Her skin seems to glow through the slashes in the material. Long, dark hair tumbles around her shoulders and covers her lace-covered tits. Every time she wiggles to pull the stiff denim over the curve of her hips, her hair sways giving glimpses of the heavy swells barely concealed by the flimsy fabric.
I clench my jaw and try to convince my dick that it's not the time to rise to her challenge. Most of the time I keep a tight control over myself. In my life, errant reactions, even normal biological ones, can get you killed. Raven Blackthorne, h
owever, is managing to turn me into more of an animal than the approximately sixteen years I've spent living under the rule of her father.
Finally, she buttons the jeans and bends over to retrieve a white tank top from the bag. It does little to conceal the dusky rose color of her nipples. About to snap, I take the backpack from her and root around until I find an old hoodie of mine and thrust it into her hands. "Cover your tits," I snap at her.
Lucien's head pops up and he glares at his sister. Raven's face reflects the girlish innocence I first saw last night. I can't decide if she is that innocent, or if she's a master manipulator. Either way, he's no match for her.
He gently pushes her hair back from her face and tips her chin up. "I know you barely remember me, but I remember you. I will take care of you, okay?"
She smiles shyly, and nods.
"Good, but please, stay covered around Sin. He thinks with his dick almost every time we're around a girl, and I don't want to have to kill my only friend for touching my sister."
He ends his statement staring at me, as if he's subtle about his message. I laugh in response. We both know he could try and kill me, but I'm the one who has been doing the dirty work since we were kids. He doesn't have the guts to do the job.
"Pull the hood over your head," I order her.
Her eyes flash with defiance, but she gives in. Breaking her is going to be easy. And what a good little doll she'll be when I'm done.
She stuffs her waist-length hair inside the hood and pulls it up to hide her delicate face. If I had my way I'd keep everyone from looking at her, except for me.
I pull the backpack over my shoulder and take point. It isn't that I don't trust Lucien, but my instincts are faster, and I'm the only one of the three of us willing to kill to get us out of here.
Raven doesn't know the house like we do and steps on one of the many creaky boards Lucien and I memorized the location of years ago. I give him a look, and without a word he knows I expect him to pick her up and carry her down the stairs. Drunk or not, this house is filled with straight up killers who are used to being on constant guard.
She's tiny at around five-foot-four, a full foot shorter than me, and she doesn't appear to weigh more than a feather. He lifts her easily, and the three of us silently race through the house.
At the bottom of the stairs we are in the most vulnerable position we'll face until we make it outside and have to run across an open lawn the size of a football field.
I hold up my hand to stop him before he runs into the back of me. We both flatten against the wall, slipping instinctively into the shadow created by the poor lighting given off by the antique sconces.
One of Damien's thugs chases a maid around the foyer, and we hold still until her girlish giggle indicates they've rejoined the party in the parlor.
My heart pounds as we turn the corner down the rear hallway and move steadily toward the back door. Off to the left I hear Damien's voice demand the maid I paid sink to her knees. His wife is likely passed out from a combination of booze and pills as she is most evenings. The guards are all in various states of being drunk or high thanks to the staff members I encouraged to distribute laced booze or joints. With any luck a few of them will overdose before the night's over. Then at least, there won't be as many of them to come after us once they realize we're gone.
I hold the back door open for Lucien, and he moves through with his sister. His arms seem to be trembling, and I shake my head at him. He's in decent shape, but he has focused on his appearance only when we hit the weights. Carrying a body for an extended period of time is beyond his skill set, whereas it's second nature to me.
As soon as we get clear of the porch I stop him. "You aren't going to be able to run with her across the yard." I set down the backpack I filled with clothes. "Give her to me, and get ready to run."
No one has noticed we're outside with the boss's prized possession, the daughter he plans to sell for more territory to sell drugs, guns, and girls in, but that could change as we hit the yard. I shut off the motion lights earlier, but I can't guarantee no one dicovered it and turned them back on.
Lucien glares at me, but passes her over to me. I shift her from the cradled position he held her in and toss her over my shoulder. She makes the tiniest of noises, but I take the opportunity to smack her ass. "Be quiet," I whisper.
She tenses, but otherwise doesn't react. Good girl, I think. By no means should she trust me, but right now I'm her best chance at a life free from cruelty.
Lucien and I didn't want to scare her, but George Campbell, Sr. is a sadistic bastard. Damien knows this, and apparently doesn't care that he's essentially condemning his daughter to death by shipping her off to be a part of that family. He's been married three times, and every time his wife has met a horrible ‘accident’. If his son has picked up even a fraction of his father's predilections, Raven's life would be as miserable as it would be short.
His name has been on my list for a long time. I'd have to add my own to it if I stood by and allowed this innocent creature to die at the hands of a monster who would use her then cast her away when she was too broken to fight back. It's the fight he enjoys most.
When I say I want to break Raven, I don't mean completely. I just want to cause some cracks in the perfect façade she has. Nothing that beautiful lasts. The more jagged her edges the more fight she'll have, and against her father, she's going to need it.
The path through the woods to the cabin is pitch black. Even if it weren't a new moon, light barely penetrates the thick canopy of the old growth in the forest. It doesn't matter though. Lucien and I have travelled through the woods so many times that we make it to the cabin without having to use a flashlight.
I set Raven down outside the cabin, and she stands off by herself with her arms wrapped around her middle. If I were a different man I might offer her words of comfort, but while I am many horrible things, a liar isn't one of them. Damien Blackthorne has extensive resources, and it is extremely unlikely we will survive going against him in the long run.
Somehow I don't think that's what she needs or wants to hear right now. For me, I'd rather die fighting him than stand still and be stabbed in the back. Maybe it's just easier for me to make this move, because I'm certain death is coming for me.
"What now?" Lucien asks, crossing his arms. "It's obvious you've been planning to leave for a while now. I'm glad it has worked in our favor, but were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?"
I don't answer him. He should know me well enough to know I don't do feelings. Ignoring him, I go into the cabin, but he follows me.
Still not paying him any attention, I grab the crow bar I left inside the cabin and get to work prying up the floor boards I've been using as a hiding place.
"That's it isn't it?" he pushes.
I look at him over my shoulder. "Your father wants to sell your sister to one of the most sadistic bastards either of us has ever met besides Damien, and you choose right now to leave her alone outside?"
I set the crow bar down, and go outside. Raven hasn't moved more than to sway back and forth. When I was little, I used to rock myself like that.
"Get inside," I order her
She narrows her eyes at me, and I like the glimpse of fire I see in her. There's fear in them though, and she doesn't question my reasons to make her go into the cabin.
One thing is for sure, she might be Lucien's sister, but she just became my responsibility. He doesn't know what it's like to have your power and humanity stripped away and to be reduced to nothing more than an asset to be traded for the benefit of someone else.
Raven and I are barely worth more than cattle to the man who holds our lives in his grasp. Lucien isn't willing to kill to keep her, and it is going to take the spilling of blood to stay out of Damien's reach.
I move quickly, having already wasted too much time preoccupied by the black-haired temptress, and pop up the floorboards.
Next I take the lid off a large Tupperwar
e bin I set into the ground. Getting fake identification from a source Damien couldn't trace was difficult and time consuming. I wasn't going to risk them by placing them under the floor on top of a foundation of hard earth.
Inside the bin I have another couple of backpacks filled with clothes for Lucien and myself, the IDs, and money. For the last six months I have been hiding what I could without anyone noticing.
Getting money was the hardest part, since I'm not actually an employee. I have never had a bank account or gotten a paycheck. Hell, the fake ID in my bag is the only one I've ever had. Everyone calls me Sin, but I have no idea if my mother, whoever she was, gave me that name or if they just decided to call me that when I was brought to Blackthorne Manor. As far as a last name, I don't have one.
I couldn't even name myself for the ID, so my contact changed my name to Adam Dade. Lucien's ID is under the name Lance Arthurs. I dig it out and hand it to him. "If I were going to leave you here, why did I have a bag packed for you with ID?"
"What am I going to do? I don't have anything," Raven mutters, but I think she's mostly speaking to herself.
"You've got me," Lucien starts to try and comfort her. I step in front of him, cutting off his path to her.
"Let's go," I say to explain my weird behavior.
I'm not sure why I don't want him near her, but I don't. I'm not going to try and explain it to him when I don't understand it myself.
"There are two motorcycles outside."
Lucien takes his wallet out of his pocket and fans out several large bills. "I don't even know why I've been taking out all this cash, but something told me to start getting all of my money my...uh...Damien wouldn't notice."
"How much is that?" Raven asks.
"There's about five thousand here," he tells her. Then he goes to the wood burning stove we stopped using at the end of winter and pulled part of the pipe loose. He grabs another wad of cash. "I was actually carrying it with me tonight to hide it with the rest of what I've gathered. I think there's about eight thousand all together."
Pretty Monsters Page 3