Twisted Betrayal

by Davis, Siobhan

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Charlie demands, digging his nails into my arms as he grips me painfully.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I hiss.

  Charlie is a master of discretion, and it’s usually hard to read him.

  But not now.

  Fury and fear are etched upon his face in equal measure, and his body trembles with raw anger as he drags me out of the room, back along the dimly lit corridor, and up the steps. He punches in the code on the wall-mounted keypad and the door clicks open, revealing the empty hallway in my house.

  He doesn’t utter a word as he drags me along the corridor, through the house, over to the other wing, and down the corridor where the security camera room is. Waves of hostility and anger roll off him, raising all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. He lets me go to pick the lock, swinging the door open and pulling me inside. “Wipe the feed,” he demands.

  I’m tempted to tell him to screw off, but the intensity of his emotions are scaring me a little, and the last thing I need is the bastard discovering I know his twisted secret, so I log into the system, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I wipe the footage and doctor the evidence so it’s not obvious.

  “It’s done,” I confirm, standing.

  He grabs my elbow, pulling me out of the room, checking it’s properly locked before hauling me toward the stairs. “Let go of me.” I attempt to wriggle out of his grasp, but he tightens his hold. He has never been this rough with me, and this version of Charlie is freaking me out. “Stop manhandling me! You’re hurting me.”

  “Don’t. Push. Me.” A muscle clenches in his taut jaw as he forces me up the stairs.

  I obey for once, waiting until we’re in the safe confines of my bedroom to shove him off me. My victory is fleeting though, because I’ve only just wrenched my arm away when he pushes me back against the wall, caging me in with his muscular arms and his powerful, angry body. My chest heaves as I watch him struggle to control himself. “Do you have any idea of the danger you were just in?” he growls, and I can tell it’s an effort not to shout.

  “I wanted to know.”

  “And do you feel better for knowing? Safer? Less afraid?” His eyes burn with a host of different emotions.

  I bite down on my lip, squeezing my eyes shut before shaking my head.

  “What would you have done if I didn’t show up?” His green eyes penetrate mine in a challenging stare.

  “I was leaving.”

  He slams his fist into the wall over my head unexpectedly, and I jump. “Unless you had the code, there’s no way you could’ve gotten out of there.”

  He’s right. But I didn’t know that when I followed Drew. I presumed the door opened from the inside like a normal door, but I should’ve known better. I’m smarter than this, and my reckless decision could’ve landed me in a lot of trouble.

  Of course, I’m not admitting that to him.

  “Drew had to return at some point. He would’ve let me out.”

  “And what if it’d been your father returning first?” He grips my chin, tipping my face up. “What then, Abby? How would you have explained it?”

  “From my vantage point, it didn’t look like Father would leave anytime soon.”

  “Your father is anything but predictable. You, of all people, know that.” He rubs his thumb along my lower lip, and his gaze darkens in a way I’m familiar with. A visible shudder passes over him. “If they’d gotten their hands on you.” He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment.

  “I must remain a virgin,” I say. “He wouldn’t have let them fuck me.”

  He snorts. “There are a lot of other creative ways they can hurt you, Abby. Fuck it.” He thumps the wall again. “You’re too smart to pull careless shit like this.” He rests his forehead against mine. My instinct is to push him away, but I remember I’ve a role to play.

  “I wasn’t thinking, but I’m okay. No one saw me, and we covered our tracks.”

  “I need you to promise me you won’t go near there again.”

  A sour taste floods my mouth. “Trust me, I’ve no desire to revisit.” I cup his face, forcing his head up. “Why were you there?”

  His mask comes down. “It was elite business.”

  I snort, pushing him away this time, only noticing the custom-fit suit he’s wearing now. “This is comical.” I shake my head. “All that bullshit you spouted about loving me, and protecting me, and you were going there to have sex with underage girls?”

  He closes the gap between us, pressing his body against the length of mine, flattening my spine to the wall again. “I was not going there to have sex.” He slams his mouth down on mine before I’ve had time to guess his move. I keep my lips sealed, refusing to kiss him back. Not because I don’t want to betray Kai, although I don’t want to, but because it’s natural in this scenario.

  I shove at his shoulders, and his nostrils flare as he’s forced to break the one-sided kiss.

  “How dumb do you think I am?” I hiss. “I saw what they were doing down there. And you expect me to believe you were just going to drink and talk shit with those assholes?” I plant my hands on my hips. “This is just like my engagement to Trent all over again.” I narrow my eyes. “You have no intention of being faithful to me, do you? And if you can’t keep it in your pants while we’re engaged, then you certainly have no intention of staying loyal after we’re married.”

  “Don’t fucking compare me to him. I am nothing like Trent!” he roars, and I’m kind of proud that I’ve gotten the elusive Charlie to crack a little.

  “A likely story.” I step away from him. “You disgust me.” Images of those poor girls materialize behind my retinas, and my stomach drops to my toes as nausea travels up my throat. “I can’t believe you’d do something like that. How could you have sex with someone so young? Especially when they’ve clearly been drugged into cooperating?”

  He moves back into my personal space. His previous frustration is gone, replaced with a half-smug look.

  Is he pleased at my reaction?

  “The only person I desire is you. The only woman I want to have sex with is you.” Spoken like a true politician. Evading the question and expecting it to suffice.

  “You can’t touch me until our wedding night.”

  He runs the tip of his finger up and down my arm, making my skin crawl. “We both know that’s not true. Your father already believes we’re fucking.”

  “It’s not gonna happen.” I glare at him, and he backs down, stepping away and creating some distance between us. He looks contrite, but I don’t know if it’s genuine or not.

  “I apologize for kissing you without your permission, and you know I’d never force you or make you do anything you don’t want.”

  “I know nothing, Charlie,” I truthfully reply, sauntering toward the couch and flopping down. I kick off my fuzzy slippers, pulling my legs up into my chest. I rest my head on my knees, looking sideways at him as he sits beside me. “I don’t trust you. Don’t trust anyone except myself.”

  “Has something else happened?” He angles his body toward me, arching a brow.

  “Just that I’ve found out everyone has lied to me and that no one can be trusted.”

  “I know I’ve got to earn your trust again, but I’ll show you I’m sincere.”

  I lift my head, examining his handsome face for clues. “If you mean that, you can start by telling me what the fuck is going on downstairs.”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  I nod. “I can’t un-see it now, and—” I close my eyes, hating the images that burn through my retinas. I blink, rage resurfacing. “It’s disgusting, and so wrong, and I feel ill at the thought that’s been going on in the basement of my house for years while I slept up here, ignorant of the depravity taking place under this very roof.”

  “This is the world we exist in,” he replies, displaying little emotion. “And I’ve seen far worse.”

  “What
do you mean?”

  “What do you think we’ve been doing at Parkhurst all these years, Abby?” Slipping off his dress shoes, he pulls his feet up onto the couch, bending his knees and leaning back against the arm, so he’s facing me.

  “Training? Learning how to take over the family businesses?” I hear how naïve that sounds now. Truth is, for years, that’s what I thought they were doing every year they went there.

  I know better now.

  “We were training, but it involves a lot more than just physical defense or learning how to manage a business.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how to kill a man. How to fuck a woman. How to control and exert power over those who are less than us.”

  “Have you killed someone?” I know he’s skilled with a gun. We all are. And after the shootout in the ballroom, I know how experienced all the guys are.

  He nods.

  “Did you lose your virginity at Parkhurst?” I ask, because it seems the next logical question.

  He nods again.

  “How old were you?”

  “Thirteen.”

  My jaw drops. “But you were only a kid.”

  “Within the order, you’re a man at thirteen. Losing your virginity at that age is a rite of passage, and one of the initiation tasks.”

  “Initiation tasks?” I feel like I’ve wandered into the pages of a dark romance book.

  “We must complete several stages and tasks before turning eighteen. Only after successful completion, and graduating high school, can we climb the ranks of the order and become fully fledged members of Parkhurst.”

  “What would happen if you didn’t do it?”

  “They would kill me.”

  My eyes blink rapidly. I want to call bullshit on it, but this is the elite we are discussing, and none of their traditions or rules have ever made much sense to me. “Couldn’t you fake it?”

  He shakes his head. “There’s a public ceremony.”

  I swing my legs around, adopting the same position as him on my side of the couch. “Are you saying you lost your virginity at a ceremony where people were watching?” I say in a high-pitched tone of voice.

  “Yep.” He looks vaguely amused.

  “I’m glad to see it hasn’t affected you.” I scowl, feeling sick all over again.

  “I’d been in training for it for months,” he confirms as my horror grows.

  They forced that on them when they were twelve?

  “My hormones were running wild, and I’d become slightly addicted. I wasn’t keen on everyone watching, especially my father, but it wasn’t a chore.”

  “What did training involve?” I ask although I’m unsure if I want to know.

  His lips kick up at the corner. “Upon your twelfth birthday, you’re assigned a woman as your sexual mentor. Imelda was mine. She was twenty-two and hot as fuck. Her job was to educate me on all things sex related. She taught me everything I know.”

  My mouth gapes open. What the actual fuck? I’m grossed out all over again. Not just because it’s morally wrong, and it amounts to child abuse, but because the way Charlie is speaking about it, bragging almost, is wrong on so many levels. What have they done to the guys to make this acceptable?

  “But you said you didn’t lose your virginity until you were thirteen. I don’t understand,” I say, because his statement is contradictory.

  “Penetrative sex was off limits until the ceremony, but she showed me how to give and take oral, and I fucked her pussy and her ass with my fingers and vibrators. We watched pornos, experimented with toys, and I was in the room when she had sex with other guys so I could take notes.”

  “That is…disturbingly gross and sick.” Acid coats the insides of my mouth. “How on earth does someone get a job as a sexual mentor, anyway?” I’d like to know where they get these sick bitches from.

  “All the women who perform roles within Parkhurst are either carefully vetted or from an elite family.”

  “Why would any of the elite pass their daughters over as sexual mentors?”

  “It’s a great honor.”

  I throw up a little in my mouth, and I can’t keep the shock off my face as I listen to the nonchalant way he discusses being abused as a child. Because, make no mistake, that’s exactly what this is.

  “Some men offer their wives up too,” Charlie adds. “Trent’s mentor was thirty-five, and Drew and I loved teasing him about it.”

  I don’t speak for several minutes, too horrified to form words.

  “Oh my God,” I say after a few beats of silence, as realization dawns. “Trent’s mentor must’ve liked it rough, and there’s no way in hell I want to hear anything about my brother’s mentor.” Nausea swirls in my gut. “Can we move off this subject before I hurl my guts up?”

  He scoots forward, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I know it’s distasteful to you, but I’m a skillful lover. When I get you in my bed, you will scream my name all night long.”

  That just might be the sickest statement of all. How can he be proud of his skills knowing it came from being sexually abused and publicly debased as a child?

  Approaching footsteps are the only thing that saves Charlie from a knee in the junk. “Fuck,” he hisses, glancing at his watch. “Don’t fight me on this, just go with it.” His eyes convey silent warning.

  I don’t have time to respond before he slides me down underneath him and presses his body over mine. His lips descend again, and I kiss him back this time, ignoring the protests screaming in my head when he frantically unknots my robe, shoving it off my shoulders, and slipping his hand up under my top. With his other hand, he pulls my leg up, wrapping it around his waist, before grinding his hips into mine just as the door to my bedroom flies open.

  A deep chuckle reverberates around the room, and I’m not faking the freezing. Charlie removes his hand from under my top and pulls away from me. Sitting upright, he straightens his suit, smirking as he levels a knowing look at my father.

  “I thought I might find you here,” the bastard says.

  “Massage duty,” Charlie quips, curling his hands in a cupping motion, and I want to smother him in his sleep. “Someone’s got to do it.” He slips his feet into his shoes and ties the laces.

  I pull my top down and fix my robe around myself, sitting up and plastering a fake smile on my face. “Funny,” I deadpan, leaning over to kiss him, hating every second of this. “Thanks for dropping by. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He stands, reeling me into his arms, and dipping me down low as he kisses me deeply, like he did that night on the stage. Except, this time, I don’t see any stars through the red haze of anger coating the backs of my eyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  School the following day is a strange experience without Jane by my side. All day, suck-ups approach me, telling me how happy they are that I’m back. My engagement to Charlie is all over the school, and I garner envious looks from several of the girls when they spot the massive diamond on my ring finger.

  Charlie is waiting outside my class to escort me to the cafeteria. My nerves are shot to hell at the prospect of seeing Kai and not being able to talk to him. Jackson was in one of my morning classes, and it took mammoth effort to ignore him. The elite have spies all over the school, so I can’t risk even the slightest look for fear it’ll get back to Charlie.

  Or Trent.

  Because he wants payback, and landing me in it with my new fiancé and my father would be right up his alley.

  Charlie takes my bag and slings his arm around my shoulder as we walk through the crowded hallway toward the cafeteria. The masses part to let us through, and I force a smug smile on my face, while inwardly calculating how many days we have left until Christmas break.

  I contain my surprise as Charlie leads us toward our old table. The one where Trent is sitting with Shandra Farrell by his side. Drew looks up as we approach with a genuine smile on his face. He pulls out the chair beside him for me, and I round the table, ig
noring my ex and his new plaything.

  Although, I have to say I’m surprised at Shandra.

  She’s one of the inner circle, from a respectable, well-liked family, and she’s super smart and very career-orientated. She’s not the type to hang off any guy, especially a douche like Trent.

  “I’ll get your lunch,” Charlie says as I sit down beside my twin.

  “Thanks, babe.” He pecks my lips briefly before walking off toward the counter.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Trent says, propping his elbows on the table and glaring at me.

  “Aw, did you miss me, small dick?” Mention of his dick resurrects last night in my mind, and all good humor fades. “Or where you too busy forcing yourself on innocent girls to notice?”

  Drew pinches my thigh under the table, but I ignore him.

  Trent smirks. “I don’t have to force myself on anyone.” He grabs his crotch. “They’re lining up to ride my cock.”

  “Thanks for that,” Shandra says drily, stabbing a piece of lettuce like she wishes it was his head.

  Trent grabs hold of her hips and slides her over onto his lap. “They want me, but they can’t have me,” he tells her. “I told you we were exclusive, and I meant it.”

  I cough. “Bullshit.”

  “You say something, whore?” Trent snaps just as Charlie returns.

  Charlie places a tray down on the table before coolly turning to Trent. “You want to say that again to my face?”

  All the tiny hairs lift on my arms and the back of my neck, and the atmosphere in the room alters. But it’s not because Charlie and Trent are squaring off to one another.

  It’s because the new elite have just entered the cafeteria, sucking up all the oxygen and claiming all the attention in the room. I don’t look at the door, because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist Kaiden’s lure. And I don’t need visual confirmation to know he’s here because I can sense his presence the instant he sets foot in any room. Maybe it’s our potent connection, or his intense aura, or it’s the audible gasp that rings out around the room, or the subtle shift in the air, but whatever it is, I could walk into a hundred rooms and immediately know he’s there.