by Lily White
Pacing the floor of the private banquet room I rented out in Emily’s favorite restaurant, I run my hands through my hair because I don’t know what to do.
This isn’t me.
The flowers.
The bullshit live quartet.
The silver domed dishes and flickering candles.
Small chandeliers glimmer above my head, the lighting low to be romantic.
I’m as out of my element here as I would be at a peace rally, and I can’t stay still because of it.
Locking my hands behind my back, I stare down at the scuffed toes of my boots. I never wear the bullshit polished loafers that Tanner, Gabriel and Mason prefer. The suits I begrudgingly wear for work are too restrictive and clingy.
I’ve only been here for ten minutes, but already I’ve stripped off the jacket, unknotted my tied, unbuttoned my collar and cuffs and rolled my sleeves up my forearms.
Part of it is the rage I feel, the need to tear shit apart because it’s easier than worrying about what Emily will say when she gets here.
The two waiters stare at me nervously from where they stand near a far door. Even the violinist keeps stealing quick glances my direction before flicking his gaze back to the music in front of him.
Nobody looks at me for too long except for the female cellist who has made it obvious she likes what she sees.
A monster.
A beast.
A loaded cannon who will explode from the tiniest spark.
This isn’t my scene, and yet I’m buried in it on Ivy’s suggestion. She thinks a grand display will convince Emily to work this out. But I have my doubts.
It was never supposed to end up like this. Emily was something fun when we first started fucking her. She was lashing out at her parents for promising her to Mason, and Damon and I were taking turns toying with her because she let us.
It was a game.
Something we did in high school for a handful of months that ended when we all left for college.
Everything changed when we saw her again at her engagement party. And now, here I stand like a heartsick punk, pacing the floor of a room I have no business being in.
I could destroy my brother doing this.
I could fuck up my own head.
Neither of us are all that well balanced to begin with.
Worse than that is the chance I’ll tear Emily’s heart apart even more when she shows up to discover I won’t give her up.
This is stupid.
Reckless.
It goes against everything I promised Damon back when we were still kids.
I shouldn’t be here.
And I can’t destroy him.
Not when he’s so close to the edge of rage all the time that there’s no telling what he might do.
Not that I’m that much further from the edge. Especially not now as my fingers curl into my palms, my hands tightening into fists. Pain shoots along my jaw when my teeth clench together, and my pulse pounds against my throat.
I shouldn’t be here.
And Emily isn’t coming.
A muscle in my jaw jumps as I turn to yank my jacket from the chair where I’d dropped it, my shoulders tight and biceps bunching as I march toward the doors to leave.
Fuck it all, I think. The best thing I can do is get drunk or high, to fucking knock some faceless asshole around in some nameless bar. It’s the only thing that helps relieve the energy inside me.
I’m almost to the door, my decision made when it opens before I can grab the handle. My eyes dart up, my stare hard and unwavering when Emily steps through.
Instantly, her eyes glance around the room. First surprise shines behind the turquoise color. Then confusion. Elation. Fear and sorrow. She runs the entire gamut of emotions in the first five seconds.
I turn and scowl at the roses and candles. The waiters and quartet. I shake my head and regret renting this place and hiring these people.
This isn’t me.
It isn’t Damon, and it’s not Emily.
None of us have ever been so classy.
She must be thinking the same thing. Her eyes dance to mine, our stares tangled and caught. Pale skin is framed by her red hair, freckles a faint splattering of pinpoint color across the bridge of her nose. They’ve always driven me wild.
And that mouth of hers, the one that drops me to my knees every time she opens it on a moan, the same pink, pouty lips that shimmer with spit when they’re wrapped around my cock, they scowl at me now because she knows why I brought her here.
This isn’t us.
We’re not flowers and string instruments, candles and cocktails. We’re not anything official because I’m bound to my twin brother and she’s bound to a marriage she doesn’t want.
Instead we’re dirty and wrong. Three sinners who spend our hours sweaty and writhing, a tangle of limbs and bodies all thrusting and biting, licking and sucking, kissing and clawing without giving the first fuck that in every way that matters, it’s forbidden.
How many times have I stared at her beautiful body, my hand pumping my cock while she rode Damon’s face? How many times has my tongue been between her legs while my brother fucked her mouth?
That was all it was supposed to be.
Until I made the fucked-up mistake of falling in love.
Just like Damon.
Just like Emily.
The only problem is that two brothers are never meant to share. Especially two brothers who want to possess a woman entirely.
“What is this?”
My eyes skate to the scene and back again as I jam my hands into my pockets and shrug a broad shoulder. “Ivy suggested it, but I’m not sure I’m feeling it anymore.”
Her gaze locks to mine. “Suggested it for what? I thought I was meeting Ivy here.”
Brows tugging together in confusion, concern flits behind her eyes, bright and accusing. A growl rumbles low in my chest at the sight of it, my hands fisting against my legs.
There’s no other thing to do than spit it out. I went through the ridiculous process of setting this up, I might as well make use of it.
“I want you to give us a shot. Just me and you. Nobody else.”
Even to my own ears, the words are pathetic, but I’m not a master strategist like Tanner or a smooth talker like Gabriel. I’m as blunt as they come, and I don’t see the point of dancing around saying what I want.
I’m more accustomed to breaking arms and banging heads together to get it.
“We can’t do this,” she says, her voice soft, her eyes watering. There’s so much pain in her expression that it’s driving me insane.
She moves as if to open the door to leave, but I slam my palm against the wood to hold it shut. Emily flinches at the sudden sound, and I brace my forearms at the side of her head and cage her in place.
My hips rub against her stomach, and she trembles. Just like always when our bodies touch.
Dipping my head down so I can look in her eyes, I catch her chin with my fingers and brush my mouth to hers.
“You know you want this.”
“It’s not about what I want,” she insists, her voice fucking breathless and shaking.
A tear slips from her eye and I catch it with my thumb, lifting my hand to my mouth to suck it from my skin. There isn’t any part of her I’m willing to let go. Not her taste. Not her voice. Not her heart.
“You want this.”
Her eyes snap open, raw pain now melting the blue color until her eyes are the depth of the sea sinking so damn deep that I’m happy to drown in them.
“What do you think can come of this Ezra? What will we be? In agony like Ava and Mason every day? Two people who know that no matter how hard they love each other and how desperately they hang on, that in the end there’s nothing they can do about being torn apart? I’m marrying Mason in less than two years.”
“We’ll fucking fix that,” I growl.
“Oh, yeah? And what about Damon? Huh? What about him? It would destroy him if we en
ded up together.”
Tears leak from her eyes and I kiss them away, my hands coming up to cup her cheeks as her shoulders shake with sobs
I press my forehead to hers and lock her gaze in place. “He was never supposed to fall in love. You’ve always been mine, Emily, you know that. He was only part of this for fun.”
She laughs, the short burst of sound more pissed off then funny. “Yeah, I remember when he was brought in. For your fucking amusement. For your fun. And look what you fucking did by playing those games. This isn’t my fault.”
Shifting my weight between my feet, I hold her face in my hands, desperate to be gentle because I would die if I ever hurt her. But the adrenaline makes it hard, my teeth biting down on the inside of my lip, my heart hammering like a war drum.
“You’re mine.”
I say it again and again and again, but she only shakes her head and knocks my hands away.
Tears stream down her face to slide along her jaw and drip off her chin.
“I’m sorry, Ezra. But there’s too much standing between us.”
Emily’s voice drops to a bare whisper as she flattens a palm against my chest – against my heart - and pushes me away.
“I love you, but there is no possibility of fixing this. It doesn’t matter how we feel. It’s over.”
I step back when she tugs the door open and walks off, my eyes glued to her body, my hands clenching into fists.
The door closes between us, and pure rage pours through my body, my eyes seeing red, my muscles rigid.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve knocked a few holes in the wall, the door breaking off the hinge when I pull it open.
“Sir,” one of the waiters runs after me. “Sir, you can’t just leave after damaging the place.”
I spin to face him, and something in my expression causes him to take several intelligent steps back.
“Put it on my bill,” I say through clenched teeth.
Fuck this shit, I think as I storm from the restaurant and head to where my bike is parked.
I don’t give a shit what anybody says.
I don’t care who’s marrying who and what hearts will be broken.
Emily Donahue is mine.
She always has been.
And there’s not a single fucking person who will get in my way.
THE END
Violence (Antihero Inferno Book 3) releases in July 2020 (keep reading for a sneak peek)
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http://eepurl.com/Onoeb
violence
noun
An unpleasant or destructive natural force
Violence
(Antihero Inferno Book 3)
Blurb:
Seventh Circle
Violence
Also Known As Ezra Cross
He’s one of a pair.
Identical twin to Damon.
An enforcer for the Inferno if one is ever needed.
I knew better than to get involved with him.
With his aggression.
With the constant fights.
With the games the twins were known to play with every woman stupid enough to fall for them.
We made the biggest mistake of all when we met again as adults.
I fell in love.
He fell in love.
His brother fell in love, too.
What used to be a good time is now a tragedy.
Our story is messy.
It’s cruel.
It’s forbidden.
Despite all that, Ezra refuses to let go.
*** Each novel in the series depicts a unique romance, but the plots through each book connect in one world. For the best experience, read the series in order.
Nine Dangerous Men. Nine Unrepentant Sinners. Nine Irresistible Manipulators.
CHAPTER ONE
Emily
Prep school is such a joke. The entire establishment, really. All grades from kindergarten through senior year.
We’re nothing more than carbon copies of our parents being churned out. A young generation educated, trained and mass-produced to take over when our parents die.
I’m still wearing the same uniform from when I was young, obviously with a size difference, but the style as never changed.
Grey pleated skirt. White button down blouse. A grey jacket with the school insignia stitched to the breast pocket. The only choice we’re allowed is our shoes, but even those are practically the same since they have to be all black with a smooth sole and no laces.
The guys aren’t much better with their grey pants, white button down shirts and the same jacket. Most of the students adhere to the strict dress code, all except the Inferno of course, because they can do whatever the hell they want.
Leaning against a locker, I wait for Ivy to pull out the books she needs. She’s dragging ass, as usual, her eyes flicking over to Gabriel Dane’s locker repeatedly.
When she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, I arrow my stare on the expression, suspicion churning in my gut because I know that look.
“What did you do?”
“Huh?” she asks, her voice distracted and her blue eyes turning my direction. “Nothing.”
My brow lifts because she’s definitely lying about that.
“He’ll kill you, whatever it is.”
Her lips curl at the corners.
“If he can catch me. Which, he won’t.”
Around us, the typical popular crowd waits for us to finish what we’re doing so they can follow us down the hall for bragging rights.
Ivy, Ava and I are at the very top of the food chain, best friends since birth, but always willing to blend in with the other girls who come and go in school.
Esmeralda Chase is chatting up Jane Dougherty, and Ellie Maxwell is watching Amanda Stewart closely. Around them are another tier of gossiping hens, none of which know us well, even though they pretend to.
Eventually, Ava walks up and the crowd of girls part to let her through, her lips curved into a demure smile.
“I heard something interesting today.”
My eyes lock with Ava’s, worry creeping down my spine because there are far too many rumors in this school. Some true, many ridiculous.
Ivy is still too preoccupied to have heard what Ava said, her foot tapping against the ground awaiting Gabriel. I have no idea what she’s done, but it must be bad. She doesn’t always stick around to watch.
I’m not sure I want to know what Ava heard, but the question tumbles from my tongue regardless, slippery and wet.
“What’s that?”
Her brown eyes sparkle to look at me.
“I think you know. And if it’s true, you’re an idiot to go there.”
Damn it.
It’s not surprising to hear a whispered rumor is already breezing through the school halls after the party last weekend. I knew the mistake would leak. Had been sure of it after Mark Kingsley stumbled into the wrong room with Polly Hanes on his arm.
He’d mumbled a quick apology when he saw Ezra and me, but both his and Polly’s eyes took a good long look before running away at the sound of Ezra’s growled warning.
It was the first time we’d kissed, and I’d intended it to be the last, but the past few days have tossed more mistakes onto the pile, burying me in them each time my arm is grabbed and I’m dragged into seclusion.
Every time, I promise I’ll end it, but then his mouth brushes mine, his hand slides to forbidden plac
es, and I can’t help but feel thrilled to break the promise my parents made for me before I was born. I also melt beneath a shiver of excitement I feel kissing him while knowing he’s dangerous.
Ava lowers her voice to a whisper, her body leaning into mine.
“Of all of them, he’s the last one you should be screwing with. You know how the twins are.”
Nobody can tell the twins apart, and to be honest, neither can I. Not fully. Not with enough assurance to know it’s always Ezra. But that’s who he tells me he is. I have no way to know for sure. They’ve been known to play a game of replacing each other.
“You need to stop,” Ava warns, but her words are lost when Ivy’s elbow nudges me, her chin lifting to tell me to look down the hall.
There they are.
The Inferno.
Not all of them, of course, because the entire group is rarely in the same place at the same time in school. Only at parties. But there are enough of them to make heads turn and people whisper behind their hands.
Gabriel and Tanner lead the pack, their jackets missing and shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Behind them, the twins saunter down the hall, Shane standing between them, his shirt untucked and a new tattoo peeking up above his collar.
I have no idea where the rest of them are, but I really don’t care. My focus is solely on Ezra...or Damon...or both. I’ve been studying them for years, and I still can’t pick up on the small clues that a person can use to tell them apart.
The way they move, the way they talk, the aggression in their amber eyes and even the way they wear their clothes, it’s all identical.
But there has to be some secret I’m missing.
Their closest friends - the other members of their group - always know which is which.
“Here we go,” Ivy whispers, excitement and a touch of evil pleasure in her voice.
I know for sure she’s done something now. Her eyes only glimmer like that when she’s pranked Gabriel.
It’s a little surprising this war between them has gone on for so long. As far back as I can remember, they’ve been at each other’s throats.