I swallowed hard, shaking my head as more tears raced down my cheeks. “It took me years to deal with my pain, I’m still dealing with it now. You have to let yourself be weak so that you can get strong again. You’re fighting it too hard.”
“What else am I supposed to do?!” he bellowed, grabbing the lapels of my coat and pulling me forward so he was staring right into my eyes, searching desperately for something. His spiced cologne tangled with the carnal scent of man on him and part of me wanted to wrap him in my arms and soothe away his pain. But that wasn’t my place. I should have been glad that he was hurting, but it was impossible. How could I when I’d faced it myself? Knew how desperately lonely it felt, how it made the whole world seem hostile and crushed away your sense of safety for good. To lose someone so dear was to lose an entire piece of yourself. And it was a suffocating, heart-crushing agony like no other. All worn on the inside so no one could even see the gaping wound that lived in you, never to be healed.
“You have to look for the light in the dark,” I breathed. “It’s all there is. There might not be much at all right now, but there’s something. Hold onto the good, don’t let the bad destroy you.”
His eyes bored into me, a churning sea of dark jade hypnotising me. He tugged my lapels hard and my mouth crashed against his, a fire bursting to life along my spine as his hands snared me and his tongue pushed between my lips. His pain washed through me, connecting to mine and suddenly I was falling apart, forgetting my shock and devouring this moment as my lips parted further to encourage him. I felt him everywhere, his hands crushing me to him and his powerful body encasing me like a wall moulding around my flesh.
I gasped as he bit my lower lip in his passion, his anger, his hate. And I clawed at the back of his neck, wanting to draw blood across the tattoo that bound him as a Night Keeper. I despised him, understood him, wanted him. I was lost and confused yet there was nowhere in the world I wanted to be right now but here, sharing that ache inside me with someone who truly knew what it felt like to suffer the way I had suffered over the loss of my sister.
His tongue moved in hungry strokes against mine and warmth spread between my thighs, a moan escaping me as my body came to life for him. Then his lips broke away from mine, kissing my tears away until I was trembling in his arms. His mouth pressed to my forehead last and I was folded into the most comforting embrace of my life as he rested his chin on top of my head.
His heartbeat thundered in my ear as I rested my cheek to his chest and I drew in a shaky breath as I found myself totally consumed by him. We were two broken creatures in desperate need of each other. And I didn’t dare let myself overthink that as I held him and he held me too.
“Here,” I said, dipping my hand into my pocket and pressing the watch into his palm. He looked down at it, his brows lifting and his face morphing into shock. “It was in the lost and found.”
“You…why would you give this back to me?” he rasped, his thumb brushing the precious metal as his brows pulled together.
Good question. Why did I give it back?
Before we’d kissed, I’d wanted to hold onto it, but now I’d tasted his pain, how could I not give it to him? I didn’t want to play games with something so cherished, even if he had played a part in taking the same from me. I guessed my heart wasn’t black enough to keep it from him.
He placed it into his pocket, tugging me back against him as he sighed a thank you, the tension running out of his limbs.
“I broke a rule,” he breathed eventually. “You should punish me.”
“Shh.” I shut my eyes tight. “It never happened.”
I knew I should have taken the chance to hurt him, but he was already hurting deeper than I could ever cut him. And for tonight, that was enough.
He remained quiet for a while, his breath stirring my hair. “I’m never going to let you go,” he said, his voice holding a vow in it that made a shiver of fear run through me.
“Maybe not,” I breathed. “But I will run away the moment I get the chance. And I will get the chance, Blake.”
He clutched me tighter, a growl in his throat. “Then you’d better run fast, sweetheart, because I’ve never lost a race in my life.”
***
The boys were in their rooms dressing for football practice the next evening and they’d decided to let me stay here while they were out. I couldn’t believe it. I mean yeah, Saint had left me fifty chores to do upon pain of death, but so what? I’d race through them in thirty minutes then have a whole hour and a half to myself to raid the food stores, put on a movie and chill the fuck out. I was so excitable about this that it had been almost impossible to keep a straight face around them when Saint had told me ten minutes ago.
Now, I was in the kitchen doing the washing up, shaking my ass to Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira in my head and biting my lip on a grin as the skirt of my long white dress danced around my ankles. It was kind of pathetic that my life had come to this. But I wasn’t going to dwell on the fact that I was over the moon about something which should have been entirely within my control. Instead, I was just going to enjoy my evening and spend the time plotting ways to bring about the Night Keepers’ demise. Bliss.
I placed the last of the plates in the rack and dried my hands, heading to the dining table where my gaze fell on Saint’s laptop. Just sitting there, abandoned. I glanced up at the balcony, noticing the door to the bathroom was open and light was spilling out.
It wasn’t like I cared who he bothered to email (most likely Cruella de Vil about his new fur coat), but Monroe had been vying to get his hands on Saint’s laptop for a while to get information on his father. And it was sitting right there in front of me. Monroe had done so much for me. A quick peek wouldn’t do any harm…
I hurried forward, opening it up and cursed as I realised it had a password. Obviously.
I quickly typed Night Keepers, Night People, Kotari and King of the Fuckwits to no avail. Alright, so maybe I didn’t try that last one, but still.
Dammit, what else did Saint care enough about to use as a password??
Kyan Roscoe
Blake Bowman
Saint Memphis
SaintKyanBlake
Ironed shirts
Folded underpants
SKB
Satan
“What the fuck are you doing?” Saint’s voice made me jerk around and accidentally swipe the whole laptop onto the floor with a loud crack.
Oh shit shit shit.
“I er-” I came up short, gaping at him with my heart thrashing and my mind on overdrive.
He strode toward me in his dark green and white football uniform, his eyes two furious pits of hell.
“Wait, I just-“
“You just what? Tried to go through my personal things?” he snarled, snatching the laptop from the floor. He flipped it over and I stopped breathing as I spotted the jagged crack running through the screen.
Oh fuck no.
He tossed it down on the table with a bang that made me jump, then I turned, doing the only thing sensible as I fled, racing god only knew where as he took chase.
I made a beeline for the crypt, fear tangling with my veins, but Saint caught a fistful of my hair before I made it and I yelped in pain as he dragged me backwards towards the couch.
I twisted around in anger, throwing a fist into his side as I refused to bow to his demands.
He grunted as he shoved me down onto the seat and I stared at him in horror as Kyan and Blake appeared from their rooms, staring between us in confusion. Saint’s eyes glittered like oil as he gazed at me, looking like he was enjoying this far too much. Not good.
“What’s going on?” Blake demanded, his eyes on me, but I couldn’t draw my gaze from Saint.
“Get me some rope,” Saint snapped, moving forward and reaching for my wrists.
I leaned backwards, kicking out at him and he snatched my ankle with a demonic smile. “Are you going to fight me all the way, Plague?”
Was I
?
I knew my punishment would be worse, but I didn’t care. So hell yes I was going to fight him.
I lunged at him with a cry of defiance, throwing my shoulder into his chest and forcing him back a step as I landed punches in his sides. He shoved me away from him with a huff of effort and I stumbled into Kyan who immediately locked an arm around me from behind. I sank my teeth into his flesh, stamping my bare feet down on his shoes as I tasted blood.
“Little viper,” Kyan laughed, not releasing me even a little bit.
Blake appeared with the rope, passing it to Saint who threaded it through his fingers as he approached.
“Hold her wrists behind her back,” he instructed Kyan and he wrestled with me as he tried to snatch them into his grip. I wriggled and fought, throwing elbows that made him wheeze, but his strength was incapacitating. The more I hit him, the more he seemed to like it too. And I hated that I couldn’t get free. It made me feel weak. Like when I’d been pinned beneath Merl, defeated by brute strength. It was the one thing I could never learn or train for. Men like Kyan were not only trained, but they were bigger and stronger than me pure and simple.
He finally clamped my wrists together behind my back, twisting me around and holding them out for Saint as his arms locked around my shoulders and my face was pressed into his chest.
I leaned back as far as I could then threw my head forward, catching him in the chin with my forehead and he roared another laugh as Saint moved to bind my wrists.
“Why were you trying to get on my laptop?” Saint asked in a deadly tone.
“To send dick pics to your grandma!” I spat and Kyan and Blake laughed as Saint’s eyes grew darker.
“Well unfortunately for you, she’s long dead. You may send them to my mother though, god knows she needs the stimulation,” Saint deadpanned, sliding the rope around my wrists. Did he just make a freaking joke??
He tightened the knot enough to make me wince then nodded to Kyan. “Get her on the coffee table, face down.”
“Wait!” I yelled, kicking at Saint as Kyan whipped me off my feet and planted me down on the table.
“We’re going to be late for practice,” Blake complained, his harsh tone revealing that he wasn’t thrilled about this. But not being thrilled wasn’t the equivalent of telling them to fucking stop, was it??
“Assholes! All of you!” I screamed as Kyan forced me down, gripping the rope around my wrists to subdue me.
Saint moved in front of me, smiling darkly as I craned my neck to stare up at him with my teeth bared.
“Let me go,” I demanded. “You’ll pay for this.” I meant it. I would get him back for this, for everything.
I glared at his beautiful, unaffected face as he wound another coil of rope into an intricate knot. Saint moved around me as Kyan restrained my legs and he slipped the rope over my ankles. The skirt of the floaty white dress he’d put me in rode up to my thighs as he tightened it then drew my ankles back to meet my wrists, tethering them firmly together.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I yelled, tugging desperately at my wrists, which caused me to yank my ankles higher and push my dress up even more. This was degrading as hell. And I was not gonna stand for it. “Let me go this second!”
“Have a good evening, baby,” Kyan called and I turned my head to see them walking towards the door. Saint smirked like the cat who got the cream, staring at me with undeniable thirst before he stepped outside.
“Fuck you!” I screamed after them as the door slammed and the lock clicked.
I lay panting, totally restrained, unable to believe they’d done this to me. Although I didn’t know why I was surprised. They were the Night Keepers after all.
I tugged at my binds again, but they wouldn’t give. Saint was probably the king of the knots. He wouldn’t have left any weakness in my binds. So I had to find a way to sever them.
I lifted my head, blowing a lock of hair from my face as I hunted for anything around me that could help. My gaze hooked on the washing up drying in the rack in the kitchenette and the sharp knife amongst it I’d used to chop vegetables.
I clenched my jaw, determination filling me as I rolled myself over and dropped off of the coffee table onto my side. I winced as I crushed my arm and rocked my hips so I fell onto my stomach again. It wasn’t easy, or fast, or fucking dignified but I managed to move along inch by inch using my thighs and shoulders, rocking from side to side and making my way around the couch and in the direction of the kitchen.
“You’re dead Saint Memphis,” I wheezed, my boobs crushed as I continued along the carpet like some sort of demented snake. “You and your little asshole of a bodyguard Kyan and your cowardly dog Blake. Dead. Dead. Dead.”
It was a long and humiliating path toward the kitchenette and I made a noise like a dying T-Rex with every awkward rock of my body, forcing too much pressure down on my chest as I went. My knees were chafing against the carpet and my dress had ridden up over my hips so my ass was now bare just to make sure I was absolutely scarred for life by this experience.
At least those bastards aren’t here to see this. But please tell me there are no secret cameras in this place.
I finally made it onto the flagstone floor of the kitchenette and found I could glide across them with the grace of a slug as I made my journey towards the sink. Finally, I gazed up at the knife in the rack above my head and started straining and writhing on the ground as I tried to figure out a way to reach it. But there was just no damn way.
I growled in frustration, my shoulders beginning to ache as they were pulled back in their sockets. I rolled onto my side, gripping the nearest cupboard door handle between my teeth and pulling it open, rolling back to get out of the way as it swung wide. I had to use my head like a goddamn walrus to shove stuff aside and look through it, but it was worth it because there amongst all the cleaning products was a pair of scissors.
My heart soared and I shuffled as far forward as I could, taking them between my teeth before moving back again and dropping them on the ground. I managed to get them open with my mouth then rolled over, taking them into my hand and pressing one of the sharp edges against the rope.
I gritted my teeth as I strained to cut through it, the motion painful as I bent my fingers at an awkward angle. I dropped them three times before I managed to cut them and one of my binds snapped. I gasped as I got a hand free, wriggling around and using the scissors to sever the rest.
“Yes!” I cried to no one but myself, getting up and smiling from ear to ear.
I glanced at the clock. It had taken me close to an hour, but I’d done it. I was free. And now Saint was going to pay.
I ran up into his room with fury making me hot and wild. I needed vengeance like I needed to breathe. I was so done with his shit. His cruel fucking shit. I wanted to hurt him. Drive a knife into his chest and twist it until he begged me to stop.
But what did he even care about? What could I take from him?
I gazed around the room until my eyes fell on his record collection, my heart thundering at the sight. Yes.
I strode into his closet, grabbing a sports bag and marching over to the records, stuffing all of them in until it was bursting. Then I marched downstairs, slinging it over my shoulder and heading to the kitchen, grabbing a box of matches and some lighter fluid.
You burn my letters, I burn your records.
I stuffed my phone into the bag too and headed to the door, kicking on some sneakers and leaving my coat. I wasn’t going to be cold outside for long. I was about to warm myself by a nice toastie fire.
I stood in the locker room showers with Blake on one side of me and Kyan on the other as I scrubbed mud from my skin and relished the exhaustion in my muscles. That was what I loved most about football. The way it wrung every bit of energy from my body and left me with an ache of fatigue hanging in my limbs. I always slept better after practice. Even my gym workouts couldn’t compare. Though I’d still do one later to round off the day.
“Is it weird that I like it when we all shower together like this?” Blake joked and I cracked an eye to glance at him through the water cascading over my face. “Just three dudes, balls out, best friends-”
“If you’re looking for one of us to suck your dick then try again when I get on the Jack later,” Kyan interrupted.
“Why are you always making jokes about sucking each other off?” I snapped. “If you’re curious then just have at it.”
Kyan laughed darkly and Blake smirked like he didn’t hate the idea, but I knew for a fact that the two of them liked girls too much to really mean it. One girl in particular at the moment, actually.
Our girl.
The last few weeks had been a major adjustment for me, first binding her to us and then bringing Nash into the fold. So much had changed and yet some things, like post practice showers with these two idiots, were still the same as always. And despite my usual dislike for change and disruption to my routine, I had to admit that I rather liked the new additions to my life.
“Hurry up, assholes, we’ve got somewhere to be,” Monroe said as he walked into the room, leaning against the lockers with his arms folded.
“Come and have a shower with us, Coach,” Blake said excitedly. “Then it’ll be all four of us having our bonding moment.”
“I have absolutely no desire to do that,” Monroe deadpanned and I barked a laugh as I moved out of the shower and grabbed a towel. “Tatum’s sent us a group message to meet her on the beach.”
I fell still with the towel limp in my hands. “When?” I growled. Because there was no way. No fucking way that she’d slipped those ropes. Those knots were infallible. There wasn’t a single chance that I hadn’t tied them correctly. I’d checked them twice. Like I did with everything.
“Did she say why?” Kyan asked him as he dried off quickly, cutting me a look that said he had no fucking idea how this had happened either, but he could tell I was freaking out over it. “That girl has never willingly spent time with us before now.”
Kings of Lockdown: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep Book 2) Page 24
