These Monstrous Ties: New Adult Dark Romance (Unsainted Book 1)

by K. V. Rose

  But it’s Lucifer I look to.

  And I don’t know why, but I do. I meet his brilliant blue eyes. He’s wearing a black, fitted t-shirt and ripped black jeans.

  He sighs, exhaling smoke. “I don’t want to ask you again, Sid,” he sneers, as if my name is a curse. “Who hurt you?”

  I laugh. It’s bitter and broken, but it’s a laugh. “Would you have cared if you had two kids?” I ask him, banking on the fact that Julie’s is the only other he has. Hell, he could’ve fathered a child in all fifty states. Fuck do I know.

  I don’t know what I expect him to do. And it isn’t true. I took Plan B, brought in by Jeremiah. But I want to fuck with him a little, like he’s fucking with me.

  “The fuck is she talking about?” Ezra growls. I don’t look at him, at my back.

  Lucifer looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him. Which, considering I haven’t seen him much shouldn’t be saying something, but it is. The vein in his neck seems to throb and he grips the cigarette so hard between his thumb and index finger that I think he’s accidentally put it out.

  “What.” It isn’t a question.

  I meet his glare. This is his fucking fault. “Don’t act so surprised,” I snarl. “You should have figured out how it works by now.”

  His gaze doesn’t falter. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and stomps on it. “You were pregnant.”

  I want to drag this out. I want to fuck him where it hurts. Because it seems like it might hurt. But I shake my head.

  “No,” I spit at him. “But I could have been.”

  “Fucking psycho bitch,” someone says behind me. I think it’s Cain.

  Lucifer snaps his gaze to him, and his lip curls. Cain doesn’t say anything else.

  “You fucking left me,” I hiss. I swallow, biting back tears. Slowly, I stand to my feet, very aware that five Unsaints circle me right now and I’m screaming at the guy who seems to be their leader. “You fucking left me!” I scream at him, lurching across the space between us, my hands flying to his chest. He just stands there, solid as a rock. “You left me in the middle of the goddamn woods, in a fucking insane asylum. You piece of fucking shit!” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, all the pain from the past year coming out in a rush. My hands are shaking against his chest, my fists are clenched so hard. I make myself unclench one, point a finger in his face. “You raped me—”

  One of the guys whistles.

  Lucifer reaches for my wrist, gripping me so tightly I feel the bones rub together. Anger gleams in his eyes; his brow furrows as he clenches his jaw.

  “Who is Jeremiah?” he asks me.

  I suck in a breath and try to jerk my wrist out of his grip. It’s fruitless. He holds tight. “You fucking asshole. You can’t stand it, can you?” I sneer, the anger still coming in waves. Still pouring through my broken heart. “You can’t stand to hear what you did. You can’t stand to see me. See this.”

  “Who. Is. Jeremiah?” he repeats. “To you?”

  “I told you we should have never trusted that fucker,” Atlas says through clenched teeth.

  I try to pull my wrist away from Lucifer again, and again, he holds firm.

  “Fuck you.”

  Someone sighs. “If you don’t fucking tell her, bro, I will.” Cain.

  Lucifer looks like he wants to say something to Cain, but he forces his gaze back to me. He bites his lip, and I remember biting it before, too. I remember his blood. How it tasted on my tongue. How being with him felt.

  He lets me go, shoving me away. I stumble back, and into someone’s lean arms. This is Mayhem. He’s built similar to Lucifer. He holds me against him, and I see his inked arms.

  “You wanted to play with us, Lilith?” Mayhem teases. I wonder how much they’ve talked about since that night. How much they’ve laughed at my pain. How much they know about me. Not enough, apparently, if they don’t know Jeremiah is my brother. “You might not make it out of this alive, Angel.”

  “Mayhem,” Lucifer snaps, voice cold. “Get her in the fucking car and then get the fuck out of here.”

  There’re some grumbles among the group, but no one argues. This is the Unsaints at work. Mayhem takes me by the elbow and drags me to the M5, opens the door, and shoves me into the leather seat, doing up my seatbelt, too.

  “Don’t run, Angel. You’ll only make it worse.” His baby blue eyes bore into mine and then when Lucifer slides into the driver seat, Mayhem slams the door closed and walks to the Range Rover.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Present

  There’s a dirt path surrounded by trees that Lucifer cruises down, the boys in the Range Rover behind us. We make a few turns once we’re out on the main road. We don’t speak. He doesn’t smoke. I try not to think. The tears I’ve felt coming behind my eyes have dried up. I’m done crying over him. I’m done with him. I’ve spent a year hating him, but I don’t care anymore.

  Let them kill me. Let them cut my body into pieces.

  Fuck it.

  Minutes pass, and then he turns down a long driveway, which seems to be all the rage in Acid City or wherever the fuck we are. I haven’t seen any sign of civilization since we left Julie’s house.

  Julie.

  Her name feels bitter in my brain.

  The house we pull up in front of is bigger than Julie’s, a large brick house, three stories high. The driveway here is paved, and there’s a three-car garage off a brick pathway a little distance from the house. Lucifer doesn’t bother to park in one of the three. Instead, he stops the car in front of the porch and kills the lights and the engine. The Range Rover parks beside us.

  “You know Jeremiah will come for you.” It isn’t a threat I whisper to him in the dark. It’s just the truth. “He’ll come for you, and he will kill you.”

  There’s a long stretch of silence between us. I wonder if he’ll get out, yank me out with him, and not say a word. I wonder what he plans to do to me. What he can possibly do that’s worse than what he’s done.

  He brushes his thumb over his lip.

  “I hope he does come for me,” he finally says. Then he gets out, snatches up the gun from the side of the door, and slams it behind him. In seconds, he’s on my side, opening the door and unbuckling my seatbelt before he hauls me out, over his shoulder. He might be lean, the leanest among the Unsaints, but he’s fucking strong. I feel weightless in his arms.

  Weightless and insignificant.

  “I can walk,” I grind out. The Unsaints get out of their car and laugh at those words. Lucifer doesn’t bother putting me down as he walks up the steps on the porch, fishes a key out of his pocket with the same hand that holds his gun. He unlocks the door and squats a little to bring me in the house without banging my head against the doorframe.

  The rest of them walk in behind him and someone shuts the door, and I hear the click of the lock. Then Lucifer sets me down.

  It’s dark inside the foyer. A staircase bisects the entranceway, and beyond that, there’s an open plan living room with leather couches and a television that looks like it was built into the wall. The place doesn’t smell stale, like it’s been kept shut up for a long time. Instead, it smells like cigarettes.

  His cigarettes.

  But I can’t imagine this is his home. It’s not as opulent as I imagined it would be.

  He’s behind me, and neither of us have moved since we came in. The Unsaints make themselves at home here, sitting on the couch in the living room, save for Mayhem. He stays at my back, by the door.

  I turn to Lucifer, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “What do you want with me?”

  He smiles, his dimples flashing. I marvel at how smooth his pale skin is. The only sign of any imperfection on his face, in the symmetry of his features, is that his top lip is bigger than his bottom. But it only serves to make him more beautiful.

  He sets the gun on the table by the door, a mirror hanging above it. My eyes don’t leave his.

  Then he reaches for me, spins me
around, and shoves me against the wall beside the door, Mayhem watching us. Lucifer moves his hands from my chest to either side of my head as he glares down at me. Like he is angry. But he doesn’t have any right to be. Sure, maybe I’m going to kill his girlfriend. Maybe I’d broken into that house, whosever it was. Maybe I’m going to fuck him over as hard as he’s fucked me over. But he had started this chain of events a year ago. He had taken my chance to get out of this hell that was my life, and he’d pushed me into the arms of a monster who was nearly as bad as he was.

  Nearly.

  But not quite.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I breathe, my hands down by my sides, clenched into fists. It’s a lie. I know he knows it’s a lie. But I don’t care. I’m not going to admit to my fear. And Jeremiah really will come for me. I might only be able to count on him for pain and anger and vengeance, but I can count on it. Which is more than I can say for Lucifer.

  I can’t count on him for anything at all.

  “You’re a bad liar, Lilith.”

  Mayhem laughs softly under his breath. The three boys in the living room are whispering to each other, low murmurs. I can’t make out what they’re saying.

  I tense at the name Lucifer called me. I’m not Sid right now. But he’s still Lucifer. He’s always been Lucifer.

  His finger trails down my jaw, coming to rest on my throat. His eyes flick there, to the bruises. I feel my face burn with shame.

  “Who did that?” he asks me quietly.

  I don’t answer him. He trails his finger down lower, to the edge of my hoodie. He pulls at it but makes no move to take it off. Beneath, I have on a black sports bra. I don’t want to undress in front of him. I don’t even want to be near him. But even so, I can’t get myself to move. To say something. Being so close to him clouds my judgement.

  This man took advantage of me. He left me. He lied to me.

  I try to repeat those things over and over again in my mind. Like a chant. A ward against the other feelings that are resurfacing at his nearness.

  “Did you want it?” he tries again, eyes flicking to my throat.

  I swallow. Anger lights through me, but I suppose it’s a fair question. Sometimes I do want that. Sometimes I had. But these marks weren’t sexual.

  Although he doesn’t know that.

  I still don’t say anything. I’m not sure what sins I might confess tonight if I do. I don’t want to give him any more of mine. I don’t want to take any more of his. I can’t.

  His hand runs down my body, like it had that night. He stops at the hem of my sweatshirt, staring at me. Then he slips his hand beneath it, his fingers splay on my skin. His touch is like fire. A fire I want to burn me.

  I try to force that thought away.

  “Get your hand off of me,” I snarl.

  His fingers dig into my skin, one hand still on the wall beside my head. “Who hurt you?”

  I sigh. He isn’t going to give it up. But how can I tell him? And why would I?

  “That’s not your business. Who hurts me, who pleases me, who fucks me. None of that is your business. It never was.”

  “Lucifer, get your girl under control,” Ezra drawls from the couch at his back. “We probably don’t have much time.”

  Lucifer’s eyes narrow, long lashes nearly reaching his dark brows. He presses his brow against mine. “Lilith,” he says, and I notice there’s something like a plea in that word. “Please. Tell me.”

  Please.

  Him and my brother are more alike than they probably know. Both manipulative. Both seductive in their darkness. I wonder if they got along well, those few years they ran together. I marvel at the fact they lasted that long.

  I marvel, too, at the fact that my brother walked away from them. From this. Over one night. He chose me.

  I bite my lip, and Lucifer’s eyes go to my mouth. Something flashes in his gaze, something besides the anger. The coldness. Something warm.

  I turn my head away from him, and his fingers dig a little deeper into my abdomen. He doesn’t move his head from mine.

  I close my eyes tight, trying to not feel him. Trying to get my mind away from this moment.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say softly, the fight going out of me for a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

  His hand slides further up my torso, coming to rest on my heart. “It matters to me,” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “Someone that works for Jeremiah. And…” I swallow against the lump in my throat. I don’t know why I’m telling him. But it won’t make a difference for anyone, anyway. “Jeremiah himself.” I spit my brother’s name out like it’s poison. In some ways, he had been poison to me. But he’d also been my antidote. Lucifer had fucked me over, had taken away my choice to die. But Jeremiah had tried his best to bring me back to life, even if his methods were unconventional.

  I feel Lucifer’s hand tense on my heart, over my breast. The touch isn’t sexual. It’s…comforting in a strange way. I keep my eyes closed.

  “Look at me,” he commands.

  I don’t.

  He sighs through his nose, his brow still on mine. “Lilith,” he pleads. “Sid.” It’s the first time he’s said my name, my real name, without disdain. “Sid, look at me.”

  I open my eyes, turn to face him. He pulls back a little, to take me in fully.

  “Who is Jeremiah to you?” he asks me again.

  “Why do you get to ask all the questions!” The words erupt from my lips in a growl, but he doesn’t even flinch. As if he expected them. As if he was used to my darkness, just biding his time, waiting for it to come out and play. “Why do you get to ask anything at all? What am I even doing here? If it’s money you want, you won’t get it. Jeremiah doesn’t love me that much. He’ll kill you, and he’ll take me back, and that’s it.”

  He breathes a laugh, my chest heaving beneath his hand under my sweatshirt. “I don’t need his money. I have plenty of my own.”

  “That’s for damn sure,” one of the guys says. Atlas, I think. I keep forgetting they’re here. I wish they weren’t. I wish they weren’t watching all of this.

  “Then what?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders. I want this shit to end. I want to forget Lucifer ever existed. I don’t even care if I don’t get to kill him. If he would just let me go, let us live separate lives. Stop fucking with my brother. “Why did you burn down Brooklin’s house? And the club? Kill the runner? What do you want from us?”

  “Us?” he hisses. “You let him fuck around with other women, and you still align yourself with him?”

  I flash him a deadly smile. He doesn’t know. I don’t want him to know the truth. It’s more fun this way. “You only got my first name, earlier,” I point out. He watches me carefully, as if I’m a bomb that might detonate at any moment. I swear everyone in this house is holding their breath, even Mayhem beside us. “But my last name…” I trail off and lick my lips, enjoying his angst. “My last name is Rain.”

  He looks at me for a long moment, and then he pounds his fist against the wall, beside my head, and tears his hand from under my shirt. I think I know what he’s thinking. I want him to think it. He thinks I took Jeremiah’s last name.

  He turns around, running his hands through his dark hair. I watch his back muscles flex beneath his shirt, how his hips narrow, how his jeans fit him so well.

  Satan.

  Lucifer.

  The goddamn devil.

  I stay against the wall, enjoying this moment. The moment I have something on him. For some reason, even if he hates me, he still wants me to be his. He wants to claim me. Own me. Before he destroys me completely.

  The boys have stood up in the living room. They take steps toward us.

  Lucifer whirls around to face me. “How could you?” he asks, shaking his head. “How could you?” His hands are still on his head, and I see the line beneath his bicep.

  I force myself to look at his face. “I could ask the same of you. You left me in that forest. You fucking left
me and you—”

  Lights flash through the glass pane of the door at my side. I stop talking, my mouth snapping closed. More lights. Multiple vehicles.

  Lucifer acts first, taking the gun from the table by the door. The rest of the Unsaints crowd around us, and Mayhem shoves me behind them. They peer through the glass pane, and Lucifer’s hand cups above his eyes to see better. I wait with bated breath. There’s no way Nicolas got to Jeremiah and back so fast. That would be impossible.

  I stand off to the side, and Lucifer’s expression is unreadable as I stare at his side profile. His straight nose. Full lips. I want to bash his head against the glass and break that beautiful fucking face.

  “It seems your owners came back early,” Cain mutters, smoothing down his dress shirt, muscles bulging beneath it.

  I ignore the quip and shake my head. “Alexandria is too far.”

  Lucifer glances at me. “Jeremiah didn’t want you to get too far away from him though, did he?”

  It hits me. My brother had followed us here. Given the circumstances, I can’t exactly blame him for that.

  “It’s okay, though,” Lucifer continues in his gravelly voice. I feel a chill slide down my spine. “I’d like you to be here for this.”

  I frown at him. I see all five of the Unsaints, guns in hand, expressions tense, muscles flexing beneath their clothes. They’re not going to let my brother walk out of here alive. He left them. After they let an outsider into their little cult for his wicked crimes, he betrayed them. They probably took worse than a Death Oath to one another.

  Not that the Death Oath meant anything. At least not to Lucifer.

  As one, they all step back from the door. It’s eerie, how they move together. Lucifer yanks my arm until I’m in front of him. Mayhem reaches out and slides the lock free of the door, yanks it open, then rejoins the ranks.

  Lucifer is in the middle with me, two boys flanking either side of us.

  I see Nicolas first, rounding the sidewalk, and then my brother at his back, and fucking Kristof and Trey behind him. They all have guns. All of them except my brother.