by Leia Thorne
My stomach flutters at his praise. My body responds to his touch. Regardless of the fact that I understand it’s physical, a conditioned behavior, doesn’t mean it feels any less real.
My mouth parts as I search for the words to make all of this make sense…
Gage grasps me around my waist and hoists me onto the railing, shoving his hips between my thighs. His mouth is on mine and stealing my breath before I’m able to voice any words at all.
Does this make me weak? Does this make me strong? The line I’m walking is so thin. Just like Sawyer. I truly believe she gave in to Gage in an attempt to dominate him, and her plan failed.
And if Sawyer lost that control, what chance do I have?
“You’ve been a bad boy,” I say, as I wrap my legs around him.
He groans against my neck. “Are you going to reward my bad behavior, or punish me?” he asks.
I pull back just enough to look into his eyes—those pale-blue orbs that spear me. Then I touch his face, run my thumb across his bottom lip. He’s beautiful. He’s the devil. He’s pleasure and pain and sin.
I’m not as strong or as lethal as Sawyer. And yet, maybe that’s the deciding difference. Gage won’t see me coming.
I move in closer, pausing right before my lips touch his to say: “Both options sound equally appealing.” I let my lips curl into a sultry smile.
I’m going to fuck Gage in this tower, and then I’m going to fuck his world up.
Chapter 4
Sawyer
Twigs and leaves prick the soles of my bare feet as I race across the academy grounds, but I don’t slow. The distinct rumble of Roland’s bike trying to start pushes me harder. I round the corner of the building, my breath sawing my lungs, and shout for him to stop.
“Wait—” I stumble onto the sidewalk. “Roland…don’t go.”
He lifts up and slams down the bike’s starter, kick-starting the motorcycle. I pick up my pace, my chest concaving and my calves on fire. “Don’t you dare leave—”
This captures his attention, and he spears me with a heated glare. He sits back on the seat, the bike idling. “I don’t think you get to tell me what to do. Ever.”
Fair enough. I halt when I reach him, swallowing a lungful of air. “I’m sorry.”
His laugh is mocking and callous. “Go back to your…whatever the fuck he is to you. We’re done here.”
I let my clutch drop to the pavement and step toward him. “You don’t understand…”
He revs the throttle to drown out my voice. “I don’t want to understand, Sawyer. Just leave me alone.”
“So much happened tonight,” I say. “The video of Lesley…”
“And you ran to him for comfort?”
Did I? No…it wasn’t like that, was it? What happened to Lesley had bound Gage and I together. The reveal that someone else was there that night—that someone else may be responsible to what happened to her—liberated some of my guilt. I needed to know if Gage had the answer.
“There’s more than that,” I push on. “I was going to be sent away.” I pause to catch my breath. “Gage was the catalyst to send me away. I couldn’t let that happen.”
He considers this a moment, then: “So you whored yourself out to him?”
I glance at the sidewalk, at my dirty feet. “Yes,” I admit. That’s exactly what I did. And…honestly…I wanted to be with him. Being sent away for a mental evaluation was just the excuse I used. I could’ve fought my mother on it, made my own threats. Denied my involvement with Roland. But I didn’t even try. I was too tired… Just so tired of fighting Gage off, of fighting off my own attraction to him. I just wanted it to be done with.
One moment in time carved out for us—that’s all I craved. Just once, and then the maddening addiction would cease. I’d be cured of my sickness.
But how do I explain this to Roland?
Watching Roland kiss Remi gutted me. I know—I’m a hypocrite. He had every right to be with her, to flaunt it in my face. He should’ve fucked her right there in that tower in front of me. In a way, I wished he’d gone through with it. Then, somehow, possibly, we’d be even. Serving each other pain, and then moving on.
Instead, he’s the righteous one. And I’m the whore.
“What do you want from me, Sawyer?” His voice breaks, and it guts me further.
I dare another step closer to him and lay my hand on his arm. He doesn’t move away from my touch, and this bolsters me a little. “I made a mistake,” I say, my own voice wobbling. “Please…forgive me.” He releases a shaky breath, and I touch my head to his, squeeze my eyes closed. “I care for you so much, it scares me. I fucked up.”
He touches my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin tenderly, and I realize there are tears tracking my face. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
I move in. I take what I can, hoping it’s enough to fuse us together, to push tonight into an abyss where it belongs. I kiss him ardently, our lips crashing together in urgent need. As much as I felt with Gage, it didn’t compare to this—my heart feels as if it’s going to burst, the pain sweet, sweet agony.
But just as I’m moaning into the kiss, Roland turns his head, breaking away. “Don’t… I can’t touch you.”
My throat constricts. I lick my lips, still tasting him there and needing more. “Let me touch you…” I try to reach for his pants, and his hand circles my wrist. He glares at the spot where we touch, a light bruise already forming. A mark from Gage.
Roland shakes his head as he releases me. “You can’t just fuck this pain away.” His eyes collide with mine. “You’re so warped. I thought…I don’t know. I thought there really was a deeper layer beneath all that elite bullshit. But I was never more wrong.”
Another tear falls free. I open my mouth to defend myself, but I can’t will the words to form.
Roland turns away and grips the handlebars of his bike. “That was always the thing, Sawyer. No matter what, no matter what you did, at least he had never touched you. I could deal with anything as long as Astor never defiled you.”
“Defiled me? What is this? The eighteen hundreds?” My defenses shoot up like a wall.
“Regardless,” he says. “I can’t look at you knowing his filthy cock has been inside you.”
Like a slap across my face, his words strike me hard and fast. I’m trembling as I watch him gun his bike away from the curb. He revs the engine and takes off out of the parking lot, leaving me reeling.
I stare after him, just looking across the parking lot at the void, hearing my own thoughts mock me. Gripping the torn material of my dress, I pull it closed over my chest, as if shielding myself from the harsh elements.
Memories of tonight assault me. Gage’s kiss. His brutal touch. And how much I enjoyed all of it.
Roland’s right about me. I’m sick and twisted. I’m deviant.
After Lesley, I thought I could change. I wanted to be a better person. I thought I had even tried. Then Remi appeared…
I glance back at the bell tower. Gage whispered something to me when he believed he’d won, when he thought that I belonged to him completely.
I know Remi’s secret.
Had I stayed with him and not chased after Roland, Gage would’ve revealed that secret to me. It’s what he wants. For us to be a diabolical team. It’s what I wanted before, at one point, also. Until I realized that his greed and need for dominance and control only serves one.
There’s no room for two at the top.
I may still have a chance to keep my future company safe, if I tread carefully. But what kind of life is that to live in fear? I wanted Gage put in his place. Under my control. Dammit. I touch my pounding forehead. I sacrificed so much…and then just walked away.
As I walk along the sidewalk, I pull my phone from my handbag and dial my mother. “Can you send a car to get me?”
She only scolds me a little for having to bother her driver so late, or rather, so early in the morning. I check the time on my phone. A few more
hours and the sun will be coming up. At least tomorrow is Saturday. I can sleep away my mortification. Maybe by Monday a new scandal will be front and center.
No. I hardly think anything will top Saint Lesley’s reveal.
I stop walking as a thought occurs to me.
Whatever secret Remi is harboring isn’t safe; I knew there was a reason why she came here, why Gage brought her into our inner circle. Her importance to Gage was always more than just a chess piece to maneuver me.
What is bigger and more important to Gage Astor than anything?
His society.
Oh, he won this round tonight. But the game is hardly over.
Chapter 5
Gage
There’s a bittersweet victory in achieving a long sought-after goal.
I’ve wanted Sawyer for so long…have pursued her for years…I’ve craved her in my veins the way a vampire craves blood. And all the while as I yearned for our climactic moment, I became addicted to the chase, the hunt. She was unattainable. She was my ultimate desire. Of course, my need for her isn’t completely quenched. I’m a glutton. I still want to fill her sweet pussy and gorge myself on her again and again…the yearning never entirely sated.
But having tasted her, having owned her body in our sacred place…I’m almost content. For now. My mind is starting to wander to other, more pressing conquests.
I mean, I could find a way to punish Sawyer for leaving the bell tower. She did abandon me, after all. But just the memory of her wrecked face and her shameful escape… Well, it’s enough. In a way, she punished herself. Two birds, one stone.
My little cormorant has spread her wings and flown the nest. Maybe I should do exactly what she asked of me and let her go. It’s hardly any fun to kick a lame animal when they’re maimed. Sawyer will recover in time. When she does, she’ll be formidable once again. Presenting a new challenge.
I’ll clip those gorgeous wings then.
Until that moment…
My gaze darts to Remi as she enters the penthouse living room. She’s draped in a white towel, her hair damp after a shower. I brought her to the treetop early this morning after we left the academy. There was no sense in taking her home, not when I needed to call an emergency meeting of the Broken Saints first thing.
My gaze drags over her exposed flesh. “I think Sawyer has some clothes in the spare bedroom,” I tell her.
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “Okay. I’ll check.”
I watch her saunter away, knowing the last thing she wants to do is wear Sawyer’s anything. But she’s being a good sport. Not complaining. Not bringing up what happened between us in the tower in front of the others.
Honestly, I underestimated her. Remi didn’t back down from a challenge. What’s more, she surprised me. A damn near impossible thing to do. My little saint. A far more proficient protégé than Lesley ever could’ve strove to be. She’s the new big bad in Crescent Valley.
My phone pings with a text from Mrs. de Pont. Again. She’s been sending me messages all morning, and I’ve been ignoring them all morning. I’m sure there will be a swift and harsh punishment to follow for disrespecting the chairwoman blah blah blah. I give a fuck. After the video of Lesley went viral on social media, having been captured by a good many cellphones at the dance, there are far more important issues afoot than her relentless pursuit.
I flick my phone screen on to see her latest text: You will find out who leaked that video and report back to me.
I douse the screen and pocket my phone. Yes, I will find out—but not this instance. I want to revel in my victory a while longer, and I also have my own mini society to quell. I called everyone here to discuss how they need to handle the situation.
When the news hit this morning, my father made me aware that the investigation into Lesley’s death has been reopened. Apparently, everyone’s a suspect. The police chief announced that the video was manipulated. A prank.
Really. Well, it seems Mrs. de Pont has already been hard at work herself. As she controls the department, a public announcement stating the video was a cruel hoax would calm the worried residents of our prestigious town. Who wants a murder investigation? Who wants a murderer in their town? But the fact that the case has been reopened on the sly says it all.
Lesley de Pont did not commit suicide.
New questions arise: who leaked the video? Why homecoming? Why Brighton Saints? And why now?
My initial suspect was Masters. He’s harbored a grudge against me long enough—but what I witnessed in the tower last night between Masters and Sawyer… He’s become a lovesick, whipped puppy. I wonder if he could hurt her so blatantly by releasing the video just to get at me. Then there’s the more obvious issue with that theory: he’s fucking broke.
A nefarious mastermind needs a good deal of money to operate.
“I refuse to traipse around here naked,” Palmer says, cutting into my thoughts. She’s standing near the island, arms crossed guardingly over her chest, big eyes darting around the room.
Rush snickers. “That would be the first,” he says, reclining back on the sofa. “Since when did you become a modest little thing?”
Palmer sniffs hard. “Since there are obviously cameras in here.” Her gaze pins me with a wary glare. “Gage, how could you not tell us about the surveillance on us? Who the hell—?”
“There are no cameras, Palm,” I assure her. “I’ve checked. They were removed when Mrs. de Pont left.”
She frowns, unconvinced. “What if they’re just hidden? What if she’s been watching us? Oh god, that is so creepy. Just sitting around spying on us…”
I sigh out a lengthy breath, drive a hand through my hair. “And why would she do that?”
“To get her old lady rocks off,” Rush cuts in and laughs.
Palmer arches an eyebrow. “Maybe to try to figure out who killed her daughter. I mean, why else would she just let us rent this place? I’ve always wondered.”
I have to admit, Palmer makes a good point. The chairwoman of my father’s secret society was always suspicious of her adoptive daughter’s friends, believing one or more bullied her into committing suicide. After witnessing that video last night, I’m now convinced Mrs. de Pont knows more than she’s led me to believe. She very well could have secret surveillance. Nothing would shock me when it comes to the society, or how far she’d go.
Back to the point. Technically, this is her penthouse. It was her surveillance that captured the video of Lesley that night. I have to believe Mrs. de Pont has viewed the video in its entirety. What happened after the video cut off? Where is the rest of the footage? I dig out my phone and stare at the blank screen, then flip it on and punch out a text.
Me: Madam Chairwoman, as always, I am at your disposal. I do, however, require an audience with you this evening to discuss our progress.
Ha. The extremely formal reply will dig under her skin just enough.
A message fires back: Marvin will pick you up at 6:00 outside the garage.
I set my phone aside and place my elbows to knees. I give Palmer my most sincere look. “There are no cameras in here, Palm,” I say reassuringly. “Mrs. de Pont is not watching us. She’s a lonely old woman who was distraught over her daughter’s death and wanted to keep a connection to her friends, that’s all.” I smirk, hoping that in some fashion, Tabatha de Pont can hear my lonely old woman remark.
And to prove my profession to Palmer, I stand and stride toward her, touch her chin to lift her gaze to mine. “Take off your top.”
She blinks up at me. “Gage…”
“Take it off, Palmer. There’s nothing to fear.”
She doesn’t refuse me twice. With deft hands, I arrest her waist and hoist her up onto the island counter. I unbutton her blouse, stripping her of the garment, then I unfasten the front clasp of her nude bra and push the straps off her shoulders, exposing her pert tits.
The sight of her pink nipples pebbling in the cool air arouses me. She lifts her chin in a show of for
ced bravado, and I caress her cheek tenderly as I wedge my hips between her spread thighs. “There’s nothing to fear here,” I say to her again. “This is our place.”
She nods against my hand.
“Remi, come join us,” I shout. Remi enters the hallway still draped in the towel. I had hoped to see her in one of Sawyer’s sexy outfits…but this works fine, too. “Can you please help Palmer feel more at ease?”
Her gaze meets mine with a devious glint. “I can do better than that,” she says, as she moves into the room.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Rush remarks. “A little girl on girl action is just what I need. I’m too hungover to get my dick wet.” He reclines farther on the sofa and unzips his jeans, yanking his dick out through the slat of his boxers. He’s already stroking himself before Remi reaches us at the island.
Hell, I can’t fault the guy. My cock is already straining against my pants. There’s just something about seeing two girls scissor their legs together and grind their pussies against each other that sends a guy over the edge.
I sneak a peek at Emry. His gaze is hard on Palmer’s backside. He won’t meet my eyes, and I know he’s holding back from speaking his mind. We struck a deal last night, maintaining that if he gives me the information I need, I’ll release him and Palmer from the Broken Saints. But hey, I never promised I wouldn’t play with Palmer in the meantime.
I back away as Remi moves in front of Palmer. I want to watch Remi take control.
The moment Sawyer fled the bell tower, it was like a switch was flipped. Remi had been slowly coming into her own—but at that defining second, after she dominated Masters and proved her devotion, standing strong where Sawyer failed… I saw the changeover.
Remi is a force.
And it makes me hot as hell.
I adjust my erect cock as I watch Remi drop the towel to the hardwood floor. My eyes take in the scatter of white scars along her thighs and back, the cross tattoo the covers the deepest wounds.
