Angel (A Reverse Harem Bully Romance): The Brotherhood

by K. M. Raya

  Carter stands in the center of the room, facing me with the strangest look on his face. His long hair is tied into a knot and he wears nothing but a pair of dark grey sweatpants. His hands are in his pockets as he waits impatiently.

  “Is everything okay, Car?”

  His eyes narrow and his top lip lifts into a disgusted snarl.

  His dark blue eyes take me in from head to toe—I’m still wearing the bathing suit and shorts from Beth's house.

  “What are you doing here, Angel?” he snaps.

  I reel back in shock. I thought we were on okay terms. I thought things were finally beginning to change between us after what happened in that storage closet. We’d connected somehow that day. His attitude towards me at school has changed too, he no longer glares at me as I pass him in the halls and he doesn’t snap at everything I say.

  It’s actually been sort of . . . nice?

  I’ve seen a different side to him lately, but the Carter looking back at me right now is like a blast from the not so far off past.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  He rolls his eyes and scoffs.

  “Think really hard on that.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about, I came to tell you—”

  He cuts me off, “What, more fucking lies?” He stalks closer. “That's all you do, isn’t it? You lie and you lie and you bat those pretty eyes and we just fall at your feet, don’t we?”

  I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about.

  “If this is about Capt—”

  “It's not about Captain! It's about you!” he advances and backs me up until my shoulders hit the wall behind me.

  His face is inches away from mine. The look in his eyes spears right through my chest.

  “Carter . . . I don’t know what you think you know, but I really did come here for a reason.”

  My eyes bore into his, pleading for him to hear me out.

  “Your fathers have been lying to you.”

  He blinks at me.

  It’s unnerving, but he studies my face as if he’s searching for a tell.

  “I’m telling the truth, they aren't who you think they are.”

  He smirks bitterly, eyes flicking down and back up again pityingly.

  “And you think you know better? Did Alexi put you up to this?”

  My mouth drops open in shock.

  “Alexi? What the hell are you talking about? I’m telling you right now, Carter, your fathers are lying to you! They’ve been lying to the whole town!”

  “And why should we believe you? You're practically a stranger. You show up in my city, seduce my friends—my family . . .” He steps away, running a frantic hand through his long hair.

  “You're always the victim, aren't you? Oh woe is me, my daddy doesn’t love me and everyone should feel bad for me . . . well welcome to the fucking club, princess!" He shouts, making me flinch.

  I feel a pang in my chest at his words.

  We stare at one another, chests heaving with every labored breath. I try and try to search his eyes for the guy I know. The guy I've been slowly falling for, but I can't find him. He’s hidden away from me and in his place is this—this monster with his face.

  Someone I don’t recognize.

  I take a hesitant step towards him, but he flinches away.

  "This isn't you, Car . . . It’s not. The harder you try to convince yourself that I'm the bad guy, the less you'll really believe it," I practically whisper in the silent room, knowing he can hear every word.

  After the screaming, the silence is almost offensive.

  Tears drip down my cheeks but his eyes track them in disgust. The sneer on his beautiful face makes him look like a stranger.

  "Get the fuck out of my house," he growls.

  His eyes never waver.

  "Don't do this . . . it doesn't have to be this way. Your falling into the trap they’ve set for you just like they wanted," I plead with him. "How can you not see the way they toy with you—all of you!?"

  Invading my space, he moves like lightning—breath mingling with mine and his stare could melt steel.

  "Get. The. Fuck. Out."

  I blink once before gathering the courage to leave. I don't glance back as I turn my back on him, willing myself not to look.

  Tears blur my vision but I keep going, knowing I’m not wanted here anymore. If he doesn’t want to hear me out, then he can go fuck himself. They all can.

  He doesn't follow me as I reach the door and run down the stairs, but as I glance to my left in the foyer, the last thing I see before heading into the night is the smug face of Jack fucking Draven as he lifts his glass of scotch in a toast to my failure.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Angel

  I gag.

  There's something rough and scratchy in my mouth—tasting like dirt and preventing me from closing my mouth. As I come to and blink my eyes open, my heart begins to pound in my chest as I get a blurry look at the barren room I seem to have woken up in.

  A single Edison bulb dangles from the grey ceiling—the only illumination in the stark looking room. Surrounding me are four blank white walls with not a stain on them. It takes just a moment for the pain to register.

  Looking up, I yank on the ties that bind my wrists, twisting this way and that but it's no use.

  Someone’s tied me to the ceiling, letting me hang here by a rope tied around my wrists. Looking down, my ankles are bound as well and all I'm wearing are my night shorts and black camisole.

  A billion thoughts whirr through my head. Thinking back on what I can remember most recently, I'd gone to sleep after getting back from Carter’s house.

  I'd rushed straight to Fin after speaking with Grace, needing to tell him what I'd learned. I wanted to find one of the Brothers immediately but when Carter kicked me out like I was some stray dog begging for scraps, I decided they could go fuck themselves.

  This room is freezing cold and I don't see a single vent in the ceiling above me. I do, however, see that there is a small drain directly below my feet on the slightly angled tile floor. The bulb flickers and all I can hear is a faint buzzing.

  I know it's pointless to scream, but I can't help but try anyways. My voice cracks and comes out more like a wailing moan so I stop immediately, afraid I might make myself throw up around the gag in my mouth. Blood drips down my arms, the little crimson droplets flow from the cuts the ropes dug into my wrists. I have no idea how long I've been here, but my arms are numb.

  Somewhere in the distance, a door opens and closes with a bang. Footsteps echo through the silence making my heart pick up it's already too fast pace. I've seen this situation a thousand times. I've sat in while Papa and his men held a man for questioning—torturing the answers out of him. Most of those men had been spies and informants, those who betrayed the Famiglia.

  The door slams open and I lock eyes with a guy I don’t recognize, followed closely by Ellis. Ellis stares at me as though I am nothing—as though I'm some sort of stranger. There's no trace of the man who pinned me down in my bed and kissed me until I could no longer breathe. No trace of the one who heard my story about Sofia and what life was like in the Mafia—what I tried to get away from. In his place is a monster, the fixer, just like the man killed his mother.

  The other man, the one I’ve never seen before has short, dark blonde hair and light blue eyes. He would be handsome, if it weren’t for a sickening gleam in his eyes that makes me want to shrink into myself and away from the possibility of him touching me.

  I’ve lived my entire life around bad men. I’ve seen evil and I’ve seen horrors that could have ruined me forever. I’ve done things in my life that can never be undone, but the glee in this man's eyes chills me to the core. He’s young too—possibly only twenty or a few years older. That amount of evil shouldnt be able to exist in someone so young.

  "Good, you're awake. Typical of you to keep us waiting," Ellis sneers as he closes the door behind h
im and follows his companion to the center of the room.

  The man doesn’t speak, and that actually makes me feel worse.

  I don't respond—actually, I couldn’t if I wanted to because the gag is still stuffed in my mouth, but I think he wants it that way. He comes closer, bringing with him the spicy scent of cedar and cinnamon gum. His piercings glint, casting glimmering reflections over his tanned skin.

  He’s wearing a pair of black cargo pants, but it's only now that I notice he's shirtless. And what do you know it—his nipples are pierced too. Without his shirt, I can clearly see the tattoos that snake up his arm and all the way to his shoulder blades. In contrast to the nice clothes and jewelry he usually wears, seeing him like this is almost terrifying.

  Ellis smirks at me as he catches my eyes reluctantly scanning him from head to toe.

  "Enjoying the view? Good. It could be the last one you ever get," he says blandly.

  I'm so confused right now.

  "You're probably wondering why you're here, aren't you?" He walks a circle around my hanging body.

  "We’ll get to that, but right now I think it's time you learn a little lesson in loyalty . . . you do know what loyalty means right?"

  He’s pretty much speaking to himself at this point. The other man turns, walking over to the stark white wall and pushes on it lightly. To my surprise, a small section clicks free and out rolls a long drawer. Reaching inside, he pulls something out, it’s silver sheen glints in the lamp light.

  Ellis turns to me as his friend passes by—dagger in hand with not a single emotion on his face. I struggle and writhe, trying to wiggle free, trying to slip my hands from the ropes but the more I twist and turn, the tighter the knots become.

  "I'd stop moving if I were you, baby girl. This won't be pleasant for either of us if you do that," he teases with a wicked smirk. "Well . . . maybe for me," he adds.

  My stomach rolls.

  My eyes bore into his grey ones, pleading and begging for him to stop this. Tears overflow and pour down my face, but Ellis just frowns and turns away in disgust.

  "You can leave," the man tells Ellis and when he goes to protest, the man hits him with a sharp look, making Ellis turn on his heel and stalk out of the room.

  As he opens the door to slip out, I can't believe my eyes when I see the other three Brothers standing on the other side of the threshold. The door closes before I can call out. Something in my chest is crumbling, breaking into a thousand tiny shards.

  They set me up.

  They planned this out and I was a fucking fool for thinking they could actually care for me.

  The man comes closer, taking his dagger and dragging it down the front of my shirt—tearing the fabric in two, but beneath that, a blazing hot line of fire carves its way through my skin—not deep enough to puncture too badly, but enough that I know I'll have a nasty scar.

  Blood gushes from the wound and drips into the thin layer of water that pools beneath my feet. The agony hits a moment later and I scream around the gag. It’s guttural, but it echoes through the room and bounces off the walls.

  But nobody's around to hear it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ellis

  The door closes behind me and I join the guys in the hallway.

  A few seconds pass before the worst sound I've ever heard in my nineteen long years, riccoches around the room, filtering through the door to my father’s torture chamber.

  Her screams tear at my soul and I find myself turning around and rushing for the door, only to be hauled back by Carter who wraps his arms around me and holds me tight against his chest. Still though, I struggle against him. Fury lights me up. I wanted her to be punished for betraying us—I want her to know she fucked up, but I hadn’t expected it to rip me in two.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” I scream into my friends heaving chest.

  Carter grabs my face between his hands and forces me to look at him.

  "Stop it! You knew what would happen the second we took her from her bed!" he growls, but even his voice quakes.

  “He’s not gonna kill her, Ellis, but we need answers.”

  I'm shaking with rage and as I look over his shoulder all I can see is Captain—squatting to the ground with his back to the wall and his head in his hands. He looks like he’s struggling as much, if not more than I am. Holden stares blankly at the wall, fists clenched at his sides.

  Two separate emotions war inside of me. I can't reconcile the part of me that wants her to pay for her betrayal and the part of me that's been falling for her since day one.

  Another scream filters through the walls and it makes me want to heave.

  Carter sucks in a sudden breath, "She knew what she was doing, man. She knew what she was getting herself into. There's nothing we can do for her now and you know it," Carter tries to say, but it sounds like even he doesn't buy his own bullshit.

  "We need answers, and someone like her is probably trained to resist giving them." His eyes flit over my face as if to make sure I'm not losing my mind. "We have to treat her like the enemy."

  ‘This is wrong. So fucking wrong.’

  ✽✽✽

  Night falls and the screams and the whimpers have stopped.

  I saw Micah leave the building an hour ago, but we have yet to go inside. A part of me dreads it.

  I know he won’t be back tonight. Our fathers don’t know what we’re doing. We’ve been keeping things with Angel under wraps ever since my dad told me about Salvatore Valentino and his stakes in Giles’ pharmaceutical company.

  I still think he’s an idiot for doing business with the Italian mob, but it helps that they were once friends. If the man knew what was happening to his little princess, however, there'd be hell to pay. We’re taking a big risk right now, but if she truly has an in with the Cassini’s, we need to know about it.

  If Salvatore sent her here to betray Cole, then we need to stop it before it starts.

  Somewhere around midnight, the four of us creep into the 'pool house' and crack open the door to the chamber. The sight before me almost brings me to my knees. Angel dangles there from that thick rope with blood dripping from her arms and legs. It pools beneath her, but only some of it has managed to make it into the drain. There are more bruises than there are cuts and she looks like she has all of her toenails and fingernails in place.

  I thank the gods for small mercies.

  My stomach rebels and I can hear curses behind me as the guys take in the horrible sight. Her alabaster skin—once as smooth as porcelain, is covered in black and blue bruises.

  Angel’s head hangs low, her chin touching her chest but her chest rises and falls steadily—the only sign that she’s still alive. I don't know what my cousin did to her exactly, but everything in me rejects it. Still though, I try to tell myself that she had it coming. It could have been anyone up there, but she’d betrayed us.

  Cole trusted Sal, only for his flighty daughter to run around this town as she pleased. She deserves what she got, but it doesn't make it any easier to witness.

  Holden approaches Angel slowly, his boots sloshing through the bloody water on the tile floor. His movements are hesitant, like he’s afraid she’ll jump out and attack him.

  Reaching out, Holden’s fingers lightly graze her calf and her whole body jerks as her head snaps up—brown eyes taking in the four of us surrounding her in a semi circle. The look in those endless midnight depths will haunt me until the day I die.

  They're hollow—lifeless and cold. The fire and warmth that once resided there is a thing of the past and a part of me would do anything to snatch it back.

  She mumbles something, but it's indecipherable around that uncomfortable looking gag. Something in me snaps and I rush forward, removing the offensive cloth from her mouth and I watch as she sucks in greedy gulps of air. She coughs a few times—sounding more like a wheeze.

  "W—why?" she moans.

  We all glance around at each other, but Carter speaks up first.

&n
bsp; "This is what happens when traitors get caught," he snaps.

  His blue eyes are as dark as I’ve ever seen them. Carter is a hard man—someone who grew up cold and sometimes callous. He watches the broken girl as she tries to keep her head up, but I can tell it’s taking a lot of effort on her part.

  A look of confusion covers her tired face. Her eyes flit between the four of us as if she doesn’t know who to focus on. I wish I could shrink back into the wall and disappear, just to avoid that accusation. My father may be called ‘The Fixer’ for a reason, but it never really resonated with me. He’s tried to turn me into himself, but I just don’t have the same taste for blood that he does.

  "I—I don't understand . . . w—what did I do?" she stutters—her swollen mouth making it difficult for her to speak.

  My chest constricts painfully, but I keep a scowl on my face. I need to play my part.

  "Think really hard, I'm sure you'll come up with something." Holden steps forward, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at her with forced venom that I know he doesn't really feel.

  There aren’t many people who have the ability to make Holden Kingsley feel things, but these past few weeks he's been different. There was a light in his eyes I can’t remember seeing since we were kids. I know it has everything to do with Angel.

  I can't take it anymore.

  "You've been lying to us, little one . . . spending time with Finley Cassini and thinking we wouldn't find out?”

  Her eyes widen a fraction and she shakes her head.

  "I didn't—" she starts to say, but Carters bitter laugh cuts her off.

  My friend strides forward, "It's no use lying to us. I tracked you there last night—followed you practically to his doorstep. It's disappointing actually, how easy it was to follow you. You’d think the mob would have beaten the naivety out of you already."

  A laugh bursts out of Angel, startling us all. Her laugh is a touch hysterical and something about it twists my stomach in knots.