I turned back and found her standing in my way as I moved to stalk forward again.
"So tell me then," she demanded, her eyes flashing defiantly like she was so sure that she wanted to know.
"You'd never look at me the same, baby," I said, shaking my head.
"Cut the shit, Kyan. You've put me through hell, tortured me with your friends, killed for me and with me and kissed me when I was painted in the blood of my enemy. Do you seriously think there's anything that you could tell me now that would change anything between us?"
"I don't know," I admitted as my gaze slid over her and I took in the defiance in her eyes and the pout of her full lips. "But I can't give you up, baby. Not now. And I don't know if I can cope with seeing the look in your eyes when you find out exactly just how fucked up I am."
Her knuckles collided with my jaw before I even realised she was taking a swing at me and I was knocked back a step as my lip split and blood coated my tongue.
"Don't you ever doubt how strong I am again, Kyan Roscoe," she snarled at me. "After all the shit you've put me through, the least I deserve from you is the truth. So give it to me."
The rage in me was a burning, throbbing thing and I whirled away from her before ripping a lamp from the nightstand and hurling at the wall where it shattered with a loud crash. I didn't have to worry about anyone coming to see what was going on though. No one in this family would do a damn thing to stop me even if I was in here carving Tatum's beautiful body apart piece by piece.
"Fine," I snarled as I paced away from her and moved to look out of the window over the yard below, fighting to hold myself together before I destroyed the whole goddamn room in a rage. "There's a club for rich, twisted assholes somewhere near Hemlock City called Royaume D’élite," I said in a low voice and the hairs on the back of my neck pricked up even as I mentioned that fucked up place.
"Tell me," she insisted as I hesitated and I cursed as I went on. Because maybe I needed to admit to this. Maybe I needed to stop worrying about what the fuck would happen if the people I cared about found out about it and just trust in them to still care once they knew or accept that they might not and know that that was up to them anyway.
"It's a place where people are put up for sale to the worst kinds of buyers. Sex trafficking, death matches, even just psychopaths looking for fresh victims can go there and place a price on human flesh."
She remained silent and I was glad because if I heard so much as an ounce of pity in her voice, I was pretty sure I'd rip this entire building apart. I'd made my choice. So I would own it. Even if I knew that doing so had carved a piece of my soul off which I'd never get back.
"Rich, twisted motherfuckers use the club as a place to do business. They watch the fights or fuck the girls or they just go there to drink and arrange whatever ways they want to carve up the country and use it for their own gain."
"So, it's kinda like a secret society?" Tatum asked, her voice sounding like it was coming from the bed, but I wasn't going to turn and look at her to confirm it.
"Yeah," I scoffed. "They could kill me just for telling you about it, but I don't give a shit about my own sorry ass. The only people allowed there are invited to initiate. Most of the rich bastards who participate buy a proxy to take part in the initiation - some poor kid who will jump at the chance to earn a couple of grand and take part on their behalf. All you have to do to gain entry is win or have a proxy win in your place. And if your proxy dies then you can just buy another and another and another until you back one that wins."
"Wins what?" she asked.
I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat and shook my head. "It's a...game I guess. We were put in this cage with weapons and tunnels and shit and told we had to be the last one standing if we wanted to leave with our lives. Once you're in there is no way out apart from winning. If you refuse to fight, they hang you from the post in the centre of the arena and gut you, leaving you to bleed out as a warning to everyone else."
"So, you had to kill people to win?" she asked softly.
"Yeah...but they weren't men like the ones we killed outside that cabin. They were just street kids who had been tricked into taking part for a chance at a better life. They weren't bad people. They didn't even want to fight. I resisted hurting the ones who begged for their lives and got through the first few hours by killing a couple of the more aggressive contenders. But it was so fucked up, Tate..."
I heard her moving off of the bed behind me, but I didn't want her trying to comfort me. I deserved to feel this rage and hatred towards myself and I wasn't looking for someone to try and tell me I wasn't the monster I'd discovered myself to be in that fucking place.
"You just did what it took to survive," she said firmly, and I was glad to find that there wasn't any pity in her tone. Just that fucking strength and bite that I loved so fucking much in her.
"There were people there in cages, being auctioned off for fuck knows what," I said as I turned to look at her. “Girls and guys who were whoring willingly to these fucked up old men because they were always promised this distant chance of more, a better life, an elevation to a higher tier where they'd be given more than they could ever dream of, but which didn't even exist from what I saw. Not to mention the unwilling ones. And you know what the worst thing about all of it is? When I gained my membership and they let me out of the fucking arena, covered in the blood of innocent fuckers who never should have been forced to die like that, I just left. I didn't try to help any of them, didn't try to go back and tear the place to the ground. I just thanked my lucky stars that I'd made it out of that fucking hell alive and went right back to my old life, trying to pretend that none of it had ever happened."
The silence that followed my words was so long that I finally turned to look at her, needing to see the disgust and contempt on her face for myself.
Instead I found her standing there looking up at me with her own rage in her eyes.
"Then let's find a way to burn it down, Kyan. If you hate the fact that you never went back so damn much, then fix it. Nobody forces the Night Keepers to do anything. So maybe you should figure out how to destroy that place and ruin all of the twisted people who run it in the process."
I almost barked a laugh, wondering if I'd failed to convey just how big of an organisation we were talking about here. The men and women who ran it were among the richest and most influential in the country. But that fire in her eyes said she'd understood that well enough. And she still believed I had what it took to burn it down.
"You think that's what we should do?" I questioned, because I knew that every decision I made now included all five of us. The vows we'd made were far more binding than any blood debt Liam imagined he held over me.
"Mortez told me that he was going to take me to Royaume D’élite when he kidnapped me. It didn't mean anything to me at the time, but hearing you say that name reminded me of it," she revealed. "This whole thing circles back to him. What if those are the real people who released the Hades Virus into the world? If he took it for them then it would make sense. And if they were the ones who did it then bringing them down could clear my father's name too."
My heart pounded at that admission and the rage in me grew to an almost unbearable level which had me struggling to hold it back. I was going to need to unleash this anger in me and soon or I'd lose my shit altogether.
"Let's destroy them then, baby," I vowed, because if they'd threatened her then that was more than enough motivation for me. I was her creature now. And even the slightest threat to her would find itself crushed beneath my wrath.
Tatum's blue eyes flared with a dark hunger at my words and she took a step closer to me. "You promised to show me your worst tonight," she breathed, reaching up to the back of her neck and tugging on the tie which held her dress up. She released it with a flick of her fingers and the silk dress fell to pool around her ankles, leaving her standing before me in her black lingerie and stilettos.
The monster in me was wr
ithing with an energy so dark that deep down I knew I should have been refusing her, knowing that I wouldn't be able to hold back once I got my hands on her. But that was what a better man would have done. And I'd never claimed to be the better man.
I crossed the room in three long strides and kissed her hard enough to bruise, wanting to devour that faith in me which I could see burning within her eyes.
Her arms instantly wound around my neck and I gripped her ass as I forced her up hard against me. But she just bit down on the welt on my bottom lip from her punch, making me bleed again in answer to that.
"You swore to ruin me, Kyan," she growled. "Don't stop."
Any last efforts I might have made to restrain myself snapped at those words and I fisted my hand in her hair, tilting her head back and driving my tongue between her lips in a clear demand which she bowed to hungrily.
Her fingernails drove into my shoulders as she held onto me, but as her hand began to move down my chest, tugging my shirt buttons open, I pulled back.
I knocked her hands aside and looked around for a moment before spotting the red rope curtain tie hanging from a little hook on the wall beside us. I snatched it, spinning her around so that her back was to me before dragging her wrists together at the base of her spine and securing them there.
"You all good, baby?" I asked her, biting down on her earlobe as she shuddered beneath my touch.
"Yeah," she panted and I smiled darkly as I shoved her down face first on the bed, admiring the view of her ass in those little black panties as she wriggled up onto her knees for me, the red soles of her stilettos making her look even hotter.
I tugged my shirt off and kicked out of the rest of my clothes before moving after her, my hand sliding between her thighs so that I could feel the drenched material of her panties a moment before I gripped them in my fist.
Tatum gasped as the material was yanked tight then tore apart and a moment later, I was pressing the head of my cock to her entrance, loving the feeling of her wet heat against me.
I gripped her hip and drove myself straight into her, forcing her face down into the blankets so that her cry of pleasure was muffled by them.
I pulled back and slammed into her again, my hand striking down hard against her ass as I thrust in deep and she gasped as the breath was driven from her lungs.
I picked up my pace as I started moving faster, slapping her ass again whenever she cried out and thrusting my hips with a brutal savagery that had sweat rolling down my tattooed chest and her panting as she fought to meet me thrust for thrust.
The scream that left her as she came for me was almost enough to have me following her as her pussy clamped around my shaft and I cursed at the perfect tightness of her body.
But I wasn't done with her yet, I wanted more of her. Every fucking drop she had to give, and I needed it too if I wanted to tame this raging beast in my soul enough to stop its need for blood.
I pulled out of her, flipping her onto her back so that her bound hands were pinned beneath her before dropping down between her thighs and licking her sweet pussy until she was screaming again.
I gripped her ass tight enough to bruise as I devoured her, wanting to mark every inch of her flesh as mine in so many ways that she'd never get the feeling of me off of her skin.
Tatum was begging me for more as I licked and kissed her and just as I felt her drawing to the edge once more, I pushed two fingers into her pussy and my thumb into her ass. She bucked right off of the bed as she came for me and I bit down on the inside of her thigh just so that I could taste some of that pleasure in her flesh, leaving a ring of teeth marks on her skin.
I moved up her body, tugging her tits free of her bra so that the cups were crushed beneath them, pushing them up and into my face and I sucked and bit at them until she was begging me again.
"Can you take more, baby?" I purred as I moved to crouch between her thighs, looking down at her as she writhed, bound and at my mercy beneath me. It was so fucking hot that I wanted to take a picture of it and keep it forever.
I reached out to wrap my hand around her throat and her eyes widened as I tightened my grip just enough to keep hold of her and show her what I wanted.
Her tongue swept across those full, red lips and as I lined my cock up with her pussy again, she nodded, her pupils wide and gaze pleading.
I knew my smile was a dark and forceful thing as I drove myself into her again and my grip on her throat tightened just a little more. I slid my cock all the way in until my thick length was completely sheathed inside her and I gave her a moment to change her mind.
When her lips parted on a moan of pure need, my smile darkened further and I started moving.
Her legs curled around my back, her high heels driving into my spine as I fucked her hard and she encouraged me to go even harder.
My grip on her throat was tight enough for the thrill of it, but not enough to cut off her panting breaths which huffed between her lips with every deep thrust I made into her body.
I kept going, harder and harder until finally she cried out and her pussy gripped me so tight that I followed her into oblivion with a curse as pure, blinding pleasure tore through me and I collapsed down on top of her so that I could kiss that fucking beautiful sound from her lips.
The tension ran from my body like rain from a storm cloud and the frantic pace of our fucking melted into this deep and soul devouring kiss which had me never wanting to come up for air.
Her tongue danced with mine and I stroked her flesh, shifting onto my side and pulling her around so that I could loosen the rope from her wrists.
I trailed kisses over her throat, her breasts and the bite marks I'd left on her thighs. Every mark and bruise I'd placed on her skin, soothed and caressed as she caught her breath and pushed her fingers through my hair.
By the time I made it back up to her lips, she was smiling, her eyes hooded with a need for sleep as her fingers traced the devil tattoo on my chest.
"You really are an animal, Kyan Roscoe," she breathed with a smile that told me just how pleased she was to find out I hadn't been full of shit.
"I'm whatever you want me to be, baby," I replied as I kissed her again. "So long as you want me to be it."
W e arrived back at Everlake Prep the following evening and my head was spinning with everything I'd found out about Kyan's family. I understood him better now and I'd been so off base with what I'd assumed about him that it made me feel like shit. I'd thought he was just another rich boy with a god complex, lording it around this school and beating down anyone who got in his way. But it wasn't that. Not entirely anyway. Kyan was a fundamentally good man. His morals guided his decisions. Those he punished deserved it. It wasn't black and white, but it was his truth. His need for blood and vengeance was born of the life he'd led with his family, but he turned that aggression onto deserving victims, or those who dared to challenge him in a fair fight.
He wasn't the demon I'd always thought him to be, he was a dark angel with no god. A vigilante who answered blood with blood. But the problem was, he punished himself too. He punished himself for being born of the O'Briens. He punished himself for the bad he'd done before he'd dared to leave them. I could see that hate for himself as clear as day now. He thought of himself as nothing, undeserving of love because he had never been offered it by the people who were meant to offer it unconditionally. Kyan Roscoe hadn't lived up to the name they wanted to brand him with. But what he didn't see was that that was because he was better than them. That he was worth far more in my eyes than a single one of those gangsters.
I wrapped my arms tighter around Kyan's waist as he parked his bike and killed the engine. Saint had bought me new leathers to wear a few weeks ago so I wasn't really cold, but there was a coldness in my heart now that never seemed to go away since losing Dad.
Kyan took his helmet off and I released him, doing the same as I slid off the bike. He took it from me, hanging it with his own on the handlebars and we headed down the path tow
ards the main gate. He insisted on carrying both of our bags and I let him because I could see the need in him to do it for me. His hand brushed mine as we walked then he hooked it into his grip, squeezing possessively.
He led me confidently up to the gate and flashed a smirk at the guard on duty and he quickly let us in with a mumbled greeting. Kyan towed me up the gravel drive towards Aspen Halls, a drizzle in the air making droplets cling to my hair as we moved.
Instead of rounding the gothic building, he shoved me against it, leaning one hand above my head and caging me in as he looked down at me. I opened my mouth to question him, but he slammed his lips to mine, his hand clutching my throat in the same moment to immobilise me. I gasped, my back arching as he pressed his chest to mine, crushing me to the wall as his tongue slid between my lips and the taste of him set my heart racing. Every kiss from Kyan was like his last. Like the world was about to end and fire would rain down from the sky and devour us at any moment. But the fire that burned in me was entirely on the inside, making me hot and needy. I wanted to disappear into him and forget my pain time and again. Kyan wasn't gentle like Blake, he saw my pain and offered me a different kind. His answer to my grief was more darkness, but the type that made me forget, not the type that made me weep.
When he pulled away, we were both breathless and his eyes cut into mine as he stared at my swollen lips. He traced his thumb across them with a hungry gleam in his gaze. "One day I think I'll eat you up, baby." He gnashed his teeth at me and a smile curled up my lips.
"Not if I eat you first." I slipped away from him and he took chase, capturing my hand again and letting me pull him along this time.
“I’m not ready to share you again,” he admitted.
“Greedy,” I teased and he smirked, not denying it.
We reached The Temple and my heart pounded faster as we approached the door. A part of me was yearning to reunite with the rest of the Night Keepers. My tribe. The men who had come for me in my most desperate moment of need. But it was so strange to feel that way about them after everything. I just couldn’t shake it off.
Kings of Anarchy Page 8
