Hideaway

by Penelope Douglas

  Maybe there was another stairwell access on one of these floors? They had to have one that reached twelve. What if there was a fire or the elevators broke?

  I reached out and tried the only other thing that came to me. I pressed the 11 and the 13 together.

  To my surprise, they both lit up.

  But I still didn’t feel the elevator move.

  Instead, a short whirring came from behind me, and I jerked around, seeing a silver panel rise up to reveal a hidden key pad in the elevator wall.

  My heart skipped a beat. So, that was it. That was how she was getting to the twelfth floor.

  And she knew it the last time we were here.

  Walking over to the keypad, I noticed clear buttons with black numbers on them, along with a small screen that was lit up green.

  I punched in the only code I knew. The one for the outside doors to get in the building.

  Nothing happened.

  I tried again, pressing the # symbol afterward.

  Still nothing.

  It was a different code. One I didn’t get.

  But something Banks said once made me pause.

  “…and when it was investigated there wasn’t even a possibility for the elevator to stop there. The floor was walled in.”

  But that wasn’t true. She stopped on this floor.

  Keeping my back to the doors of the elevator, I leaned in close to the back wall, lying my head on the steel. I ran my hand up the edge, noticing a gap where the wall met the panel.

  A gap.

  This wasn’t a wall. It was a door, and this elevator opened from the front and the back.

  Jesus.

  Suddenly the door shifted in front of me and started to open. I jerked back as the silver wall—and secret entrance—peeled back and Banks stood in front of me, her eyes snapping up when she noticed me.

  I glanced past her briefly, taking in the massive, dark expanse behind her. There were no room doors with numbers, no hallway, no shitty carpeting...

  It was a penthouse.

  I turned my glare back on her. “You knew all along.”

  She looked at me, her body still and rigid.

  I stepped into the penthouse, forcing her to take a step back. “Take me to him.”

  “He’s not here.”

  But I advanced on her, moving forward into her space with a warning look.

  “He’s not here!” she growled.

  “You’re a fucking liar!”

  “I suspected he might be, so I came to check it out. Again,” she added as I walked past her and took a long look around.

  The rooms were dark, the living room curling around the corner and giving way to a library and parlor, with a few hallways leading off to various places, probably bedrooms. There were couches and lamps, tables, and rugs, the whole place set up like a home with a better view.

  As I turned the corner around the elevator, I noticed the balcony through the two sets of French doors we’d been trying to get to the other day.

  This apartment looked like it took up an entire floor. Which meant it might have several balconies wrapping around all sides of the building.

  “How did you get the elevator working without the electricity on?” I asked.

  She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “The elevators have a different circuit breaker.”

  “And you knew that when we were here last time?”

  She averted her eyes.

  Obviously.

  The lingering scent of cloves drifted into my nostrils, and I recognized it right away.

  Damon mostly smoked Davidoffs, but once in a while he’d indulge in Djarum Blacks. The odor lingered, and I would never forget it.

  “You had to know I would never give him up to you.” Banks’s voice was solemn. “I know what you and your friends are capable of.”

  I whipped around, unable to keep the snarl off my face.

  “What I’m capable of?” I asked her. “So, he’s the victim?”

  I approached her, done with her one-track mind and everything being either black or white with her. “I was his friend. I always stood by his side, and he’s done nothing but try to hurt us. He’s a threat.”

  I spun back around and charged farther into the penthouse, making my way down one of the short hallways.

  I darted into bedrooms, taking in a little dust, some ruffled bed sheets, and a dank smell, probably from the place being closed up for however long.

  Stepping into one room, a balcony visible through the double doors, I immediately spotted an ash tray on a dresser and walked over to inspect it.

  I picked up one of Damon’s black cigarette butts in a sea of white ones and brought it to my nose. The earthy and spicy scent had the same overpowering sweetness I remembered.

  I dropped it back in the ashtray, noticing all the white Davidoffs, too. Both of his brands.

  Gazing around the bedroom, I took in the mussed sheets with the pillows at the foot of the bed, the bottles of Corona in the trash, and the floor littered with the foil wrappings from inside his cigarette boxes that Damon had a serial killer obsession with folding into tiny parcels until they couldn’t be folded anymore.

  “He may not be here now, but he was,” I said, turning around to face her.

  She held my gaze, remaining silent.

  “Where is he now?” I asked, walking toward her.

  “I don’t know.”

  I cocked my head, repeating my question. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Another step toward her. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I backed her into the wall, heat filling my glare “He’s very possessive of you, isn’t he?”

  She folded her full lips between her teeth, and there were so many things I didn’t yet understand—why Damon was so attached to her, why she was so loyal to him, and I didn’t have the slightest idea who the fuck she really was, but one thing I knew for sure. I could mess with Gabriel, I could dangle Rika like a worm on a hook, but this girl, right here, was the one person to drive Damon insane.

  She was his weakness.

  “Perhaps I don’t need to look for him, after all,” I told her. “I have you, and he’ll come to me, won’t he? With the right motivation.”

  Her eyes snapped up to mine, and I caught a flinch of worry before she hid it.

  But that one flinch was everything. It was a crack—one of the only ones I’d seen—in her hard, cold exterior.

  And for a moment I forgot all about Damon Torrance.

  “Ask me not to hurt him,” I said, my voice cracking unexpectedly.

  But she just stared at me, her gaze faltering only slightly.

  I inched closer, feeling her body’s heat. “Did it ever occur to you that all you would have to do is ask?”

  I needed Damon, so I could get the location of the goddamn body out of him before he decided to use it against me, but I didn’t have to hurt him. That was up to him. And maybe her.

  She searched my eyes, the endless abyss of her green ones starting to glisten. Her chin trembled, and she shook her head slowly, at war with herself.

  “You can’t, can you? You won’t ask me for anything.”

  She dropped her eyes, her chest caving.

  “Do you love him?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  Her head was still down as she whispered, but I heard the quick reply well enough.

  “Yes,” she repeated, nodding. “I love him so much. More than I’ll ever love anyone.” Her teary eyes rose and met mine again. “I can control him. If I can find him. Just give me a chance.”

  But I barely heard the last part.

  Yes.

  I love him so much.

  More than I’ll ever love anyone.

  She did open her heart, it seemed, but it was only for him.

  I straightened, a frost setting in.

  “Are you crying?” I asked. “For him?”

  She wouldn’t say the words, she wouldn’
t beg me, but it was in her eyes. She was just as much his now as she was back then.

  “Fine,” I said, leaning in and taunting her. “Cry for him then and beg me. Beg me to leave him alone, and I will.”

  Her jaw flexed, and the blush of anger crossed her face.

  “You have a chance to save his life, Banks. All you have to do is beg me. Come on. I want to see it. How far will you go for him?” I bared my teeth, seething. “Beg!”

  She cried out, her gloved hand coming across my face.

  My head snapped to the side, and the burn of the slap spread to my lips.

  My heart fucking leaped.

  Again.

  “Fuck, you’re pathetic.” I smiled cockily as I turned to face her gain. “His little lap dog, aren’t you? If you’re good, does he allow you the privilege of licking his cock clean after he’s fucked a real woman?”

  “Ugh!” She growled, slapping me across the same cheek again.

  My neck ached with the sudden blow this time, and I sucked in a breath, absorbing the pain. She was strong.

  I dipped my tongue to the corner of my lips, tasting the metallic cut where my teeth had torn the skin.

  “You’ll never be more than what you are now.” I dove in, slamming my hands on the wall behind her, bringing us nose to nose. “Something for men to use. That’s all you are. And in fifty years you’ll end up alone never knowing what this feels like.”

  I ran my thumb over the drop of blood at the corner of my mouth and wiped it on her cheek.

  She snarled, knocking my hand away, but I was fucking high, and I didn’t know if I was pissed off, turned on, or desperate for this confrontation, but I dived in and lost control. My body did the thinking.

  I grabbed the back of her neck in one hand and her ass in the other and plastered her body to mine.

  “What this feels like,” growled over her lips, pressing my dick—hard and already desperate for her—into her groin.

  She whimpered and her body instantly stiffened like she was frightened, but she grabbed my shoulders anyway, her fingers digging into my skin through my shirt.

  “And what this feels like,” I whispered, slipping my hand down the back of her jeans and squeezing a handful of her smooth, soft ass in my hand.

  She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut, but I didn’t miss the way she moved her leg to the outside of mine, opening up her thighs a little more for me and rolling her hips.

  I didn’t know if she meant to do it, or maybe she was just like me. Just letting it take us over.

  “I’m not begging you for shit,” she said, a tear spilling down her cheek.

  “Fuck Damon.” I slammed her back into the wall, lifting her up and grinding my dick between her legs. “This is you and me.”

  She panted as she locked her legs around my body. The small streak of blood on her cheek started to glow with her sweat, and I didn’t stop touching her or let up, because if I gave her a second to think, she’d stop this.

  “I liked you,” I whispered. “I still remember how good those stolen moments with you felt.”

  Out of all the women, my mind always found her.

  And I couldn’t wait for more. I snatched up her lips, silencing all of our words and worries and baggage and shit and kissed her, dipping my tongue inside and tasting her like she was my fucking meal.

  Cold girl—hard girl—why was I obsessed? Why was I jealous that she’d probably given how many other men in that house a piece of her but would barely spare me a one-word sentence?

  Fuck her. She wanted me. I didn’t care about the bullshit that came out of her mouth. We weren’t teenagers anymore, and I wasn’t the good guy. She was going to do for me what she did for Damon or David or whoever the fuck else came in and out of the Torrance’s and she was going to know that I was just as ruthless. She underestimated me, but she won’t forget this. That I owned a piece of her just like they did.

  I ripped open her jacket and yanked it down her arms. “Take off your shirt.”

  I dropped her to her feet, her hat sliding off her head and letting her hair fall free as I pulled my pullover and T-shirt over my head and let them fall to the floor.

  She paused, holding up her arms and covering her still-clothed body. “I—”

  But I grabbed her and kissed her again, cutting her off. She moaned into my mouth, and I ripped open her flannel, sending buttons flying, and I pulled away, pausing just a moment when I saw the bindings covering her chest.

  What the hell?

  I’d have to ask her about that when my head cleared later.

  I looked down at the desk, seeing a letter opener, and I grabbed it, slipping the cool brass blade down the inside of the wrap and yanked hard, slicing open the material and seeing her beautiful breasts spring free. I breathed hard, briefly taking in the marks on her skin from being wrapped so tight before I pushed her shirt down her arms and came to her, plastering her chest to mine.

  “And what this feels like,” I breathed in her ear, lightheaded at the feeling of her hardened nipples pressed into my chest.

  I wrapped my arms around her, going mad with the way her back felt as soft as water and with the way her hair caressed my arms, leaving chills.

  She clutched onto me, panting and nervous. “I’m his. I belong to him.”

  I nodded, forcing her back toward the bed. “Say it again.”

  I dived into her neck, biting the skin there.

  “I belong to him.” She moaned, letting her head fall back. “I’ll never be yours. I hate you.”

  “But you want me.”

  And I pushed her back, sending her falling to the bed.

  Holding her eyes, I unfastened my belt, ripped open my fly and pushed the rest of my clothes down my legs and off my body.

  She sucked in air faster and faster, her eyes widening and locked on my cock as it stood up rock-hard and ready, just as it had been since she’d started hitting me.

  I needed that now. Passion. And it didn’t matter that it was anger. As long as the feelings were strong.

  Tears filled her eyes, and I watched her breasts, just big enough to fill my hand, and couldn’t wait to own every damn inch of her.

  “Do you want me to stop,” I challenged her, stepping up to the bed and looking down on her. “Here’s your chance. Ask me to stop, and I will.”

  She was silent, but then her jaw locked, her eyes grew angry, and she snarled. “Yeah, I knew you were all talk. Go ahead and stop then, pussy.”

  I broke into a smile.

  Reaching down, I gripped the top of her jeans and panties and yanked them down her legs, the over-sized clothes sliding off without any trouble. She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, but I knew it was just her pride talking.

  Banks had been around rougher guys than me, but I’d make damn sure she didn’t forget this. The little Torrance slut was all mine for however long she kept her legs spread.

  I came down on her, groaning at every inch of her skin hot against mine.

  I lifted up her knee, and nibbled her lips as I settled myself between her legs. God, I could feel the wet warmth at her center. My body started to shake.

  I covered her mouth, feeling her whimpers and moans vibrate under my lips.

  Working my hand down between us, I positioned myself and started to push.

  She gasped, her muscles suddenly tensing. “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. Damon doesn’t have to know you loved getting fucked by me more than him.”

  And I growled, thrusting hard and deep and sinking into her tight body, my brain barely registering a thin barrier giving way.

  She cried out, tossing her head back with her face twisted up in pain. “Ah! Oh, God!”

  What the fuck? I stilled.

  Her body shook, her nails dug into my shoulders, and she was breathing a mile a minute. It was pain, not pleasure.

  I stopped breathing.

  No, no, no…What? No.

  I lie there, staring down at her as my cock throbbed
inside her.

  A virgin?

  I could feel the confusion etched on my face.

  She was a fucking virgin?

  She gasped again and again, trying to catch her breath. It slowly calmed as the shock ebbed away, and we both just laid there, her expression starting to relax.

  She opened her eyes, looking up into my pained face.

  Oh, God. What did I do?

  Her lips slowly curved into a half-smile. “Yeah, you didn’t see that coming, did you?”

  Banks

  Present

  “What the hell’s going on?” He looked down at me in agony, all the meanness and cockiness from earlier now gone.

  I knew what he was confused about, but I didn’t answer. I blinked through the tears in my eyes.

  It had hurt. Just like Damon said it would.

  I wanted to pull away from him, but then he’d know I couldn’t take what was happening. I couldn’t help but squirm under him, though, and try to shift the pain.

  It burned, and I was uncomfortable. My throat swelled with the tears I was trying to hold in.

  Of course, I knew it would only hurt that once, but once was all I would ever suffer, so help me. I clenched my jaw to keep my chin from trembling. I didn’t want to give away the shame I felt. I would never fucking do this again. It didn’t feel good.

  “Get off me.” I grunted. I was cold, I ached, and he felt like an intrusion. Like something that shouldn’t be inside me.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered under his breath, gently pushing my hair out of my eye. “It’s okay.”

  “You got what you wanted, so get off me now.”

  I was breaking, and the tears broke free, running down my temples, into my hair. I was ruined. Damon was going to hate me now.

  But Kai just shook his head slowly, still looking down at me befuddled. “I didn’t know. I…I thought…” His fingers fell down the side of my face and then down my arm. “What the fuck is happening?”

  His forehead dropped to mine, and I was about to shove him off, but I hesitated. Why the hell did he care? Wasn’t this what he wanted? Whether it was my first time or my hundredth, he’d used me like the toy I was to him. What did it matter?

  “Who are you to him?” he asked, lifting his head up to look down at me.