Her sweet groan attracted me. “Do you love me, Braedan? Can you say you do?” she asked, her voice shaking in sync with her body.
“Can I tell you a secret?” The tip of my tongue danced up her neck, landing at her ear. “The moment you wake up to me and say what I’ve been waiting for you to say, you’ll know what my secret is.”
I released her, moving away.
She exhaled in a forlorn manner, her eyes begged me for more. I declined with another step away from her.
“Tomorrow afternoon.” She chewed on her soft as silk words. “At two o’clock, you can pick me up at my parents’ place.”
“Is this a date, or are you still holding onto the belief that you can convince me to bring the perfidious people in the basement to justice?”
“For now…it’s a date.”
Smiling at her, I stated, “I can hardly wait.”
I’d begun to find comfort in spending time in the basement. It filled my nights of boredom while fighting continuous bouts with insomnia and snuffed out the sense of loneliness that stifled me when I spent time alone upstairs.
The damage to my relationship with Keaton would take time to repair, and left me with very few pleasures. Toying with my less-than-distinguished guests in my version of Rebirth became the only minor sordid pleasure I could indulge in. I’d been able to successfully balance the man who learned the bulk of what he knew about human nature from Rebirth with the one who was still naïve to certain inner workings in the world. The education I received under Nadine’s tutelage was superficial at best. From her teachings and a few of Noah’s, I had learned how to control and manipulate through sex and fear.
The clanking of Nadine’s chains while she stirred inside her prison drew me out of my daze in the midst of searching on my tablet for the most romantic places to take Keaton. Places she would enjoy. Places to reiterate why I was a better man.
The time blaring on my tablet made me smile. “It’s after midnight. You lost the bet, Nadine. She didn’t call the authorities.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She walked up to the front of the cell and pressed her face against the cage, no longer alive with an electrical current. “You’ll never get her the way you want her. You had to scare her and shove your hands in her pussy to distract her into giving you a chance.”
“She needs time to digest the truth about you three fuck ups. Well, two…I doubt she cares about Adam’s well-being anymore.”
She visibly tensed up and clamped her hands tightly together. Her lids closed slightly as she observed the tablet in my grasp.
I quickly pressed the power button to darken the screen.
“The date you’re planning won’t be what you think it is.” Her mocking laughter grated me. “She’ll never love you.”
“You’ll never learn your lesson will you, Nadine?” I glowered at her. “Positive inspiration will ensure your comfort. Negativity and threats will ensure your discomfort. Since once again you need to be reminded of the severity of your situation—finger box or would you prefer I play a very fun game with your husband?”
Her shoulders slumped and she slunk away from the front of the cage.
As I approached Adam’s cell, I sucked my teeth in disappointment. “She has to be the most selfish bitch I have ever known. At the rate at which she doesn’t love you, you won’t last another week. I would ask why you married her, but you’ve proven to be only slightly less than her equal.”
“Take the box,” Mother Abigail piped up from the corner of her cell. “Don’t let Adam take your punishment again. Take the box.”
“Shut up, you old hag,” Nadine spat.
My attention divided between Nadine to Adam with a creeping smile on my face. “Mother Abigail, you do realize you’re pleading for the mercy of a murderer? I can’t say I’m very shocked.” I grabbed the box from the table below the devices hanging on the wall and set it down next to her cell.
Nadine’s blue eyes swelled in fright. “What are you doing?”
“It’s less than entertaining if you keep up the cowardly act and delegate all your punishments to Adam. He barely gives up a fight. I think my actions as Reven have been ingrained into him and he believes I’m playing the role.” Slowly punching the code to open her door, I hummed, “It’s your turn.”
“Don’t you dare come near me.” She waved her finger in my direction, recoiling from me, retreating into the shadows of her prison. “I’ll scream.”
“And nary a person will hear you.” As I entered her cell, she took refuge in a corner. Her hair was wound in my hand and yanked with enough force to thrust her across the floor. She slid against the metal cot, rattling the bed with a series of clanking noises.
Pushing my knee onto her spine, I forced her into a facedown position on her metal cot. Seizing her hand, I pressed a specific pressure point, coaxing her fingers to extend and spread against her will. Sliding the box to the side of the bed with one foot, I picked it up and set it down by her hand. My hold strengthened on her wiggling hand, I slid four of her fingers into the holes inside the box. Realizing there was nothing to immediately hurt her, she stilled.
I sprang off her back and moved out of the cell, securing the door.
She stood upright, holding the box to her hand as she did. “Is that it? You’ve been threatening me with this shit for days and…” She jiggled her hand and attempted to remove her fingers from the device. Sealing her lips together she attempted and failed to hide the pain from me. Her face flushed red. Her cheeks engorged with a scream hidden behind her closed mouth.
I watched, riveted and amused.
She belted out a shrill scream when she idiotically tried to remove the box. But what I knew, and what she’d eventually deduct, was that movement engaged the straight-edge razor blades attached to pressure springs in varied sizes glued to the top and bottom of the inside of the box. A tension valve made the finger holes adjust to the individual’s finger width, deeming it impossible for the person to remove their hand the manual way.
“Get it off.” She began to sob, nasal fluid expelling from her nose. Tears guttered her cheeks.
“There’s a pressure release button on the right side.” I grinned. “If you were as smart as you portray, you would’ve figured it out before you decided to mangle your own hand.”
She pushed the button, released her hand, and drew back fingers sliced almost to the bone. Neon red blood decorated her fingers and dripped at a constant flow onto the metal floor and down her arm. She opened her mouth to speak, but shook her head and swayed. Scattering quickly to the cot, she sat on the edge of the bed. Tearing off the fitted sheet, she wrapped it around her hand and glared at the floor.
“It’s not too late,” Abigail decried, standing from the floor, disengaging herself from her permanent state in prayer position since she’d been captured. “You can let us all go. I know you don’t really want this. I know you aren’t this man.”
“You only know what my brother told you,” I replied. “You know nothing about me.”
She chided me with a weak shake of her head. “Noah knew about the pressures and the difficulties your parents forced you to endure, but he also knew they gave you all the love they lacked for him. It’s a tragedy you squandered away a life you could’ve had. He believed you were ungrateful. He believed you needed meaning and a new purpose in your life. He gave it to you at Rebirth. He realized it wouldn’t be enough. He was going to give you peace by letting you die.”
With my back ramrod straight, I turned to regard her. “Noah’s version of events is skewed. He saw the attention they gave me, he never knew what it was for, and what they did to me behind closed doors. He’s in denial because there had to be more than a handful of times where he’d witnessed my screams. He’s…delusional.” I thought it once before, and suddenly, it rang true; Reven’s background was derived from Noah’s fantastical account of my upbringing. It couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“You still ran with the story
he gave you when you could’ve told her your truth.” It was evident in Nadine’s vocal tone that her thoughts misaligned with the idea of the word applying to me.
I jerked my chin in her general direction. “You’re bleeding badly, Nadine. I’m contemplating whether or not I should amputate your hand.”
She lowered her head. Her matted dark hair swarmed her face like waves of dense, sooty smoke plumes.
“He realized more than you know.” Abigail’s declaration piqued my interest. “The evil that runs in your family’s blood is the evil that got your parents killed.”
Her declaration drew Nadine’s intrigue, and mine as well. I was careful to cloak it in stoicism and wouldn’t dare prompt her to expand on her statement and reveal my suspicion.
“What are you talking about, Mrs. Sherman?”
“It doesn’t make a difference anymore, Nadine. Shiloh is lost,” Abigail said again and retreated into the corner.
“If I’m guilty of anything, would you like to hear my confession?” I asked rhetorically. “The night my parents took flight for a trip, I went down on my knees without being forced or threatened to for the first time in my life. I prayed for their deaths. It wasn’t right; they were demons, wielding power in their own makeshift version of hell. Their followers were prisoners—brainwashed prisoners. The money they earned, extorted, and stole helped them exert their power. My father’s brutality held everyone in a state of fear. Of all the deplorable things they did, their harshest wrath was reserved for me. Hear my confession: I wanted them to die that night more than I had ever wanted anything in my life.” I swallowed back the hoarseness and the pain soaking my voice in wretchedness. “What does it say about me…or Him that he answered my prayers? Is it coincidence? Were their deaths divine intervention?”
“The devil answers prayers, too,” Abigail replied.
The low mood pulling me under and threatening me with bitter memories immediately dissolved. “You’re beginning to sound more unhinged than usual. Do you want this to end? Do you want a reprieve from your misery? Pray, Abigail. Maybe the devil will answer your prayers, as well.”
“I GUESS YOU’VE been spending a lot of time with Mr. Michaels. It’s been too long since I’ve heard from you.” Nathan’s voice, on speaker mode, rumbled throughout my bedroom.
I struggled to find something to wear for my date in my walk-in closet. My nerves were frazzled. Every piece of clothing I tried on left me uncomfortable and uneasy.
I flopped on the bed after nearly ripping off another outfit. My mind was constantly in a tailspin, wanting away from Braedan. Soon, I would be so filled with him the dam would break along with my will.
“What’s happened to us?” My voice held strongly to sorrow. “Sonja was the glue that kept us together. She always was.”
His silence weighed heavily between us.
I sniffed deeply, attempting to collect myself and try on a chipper mood. “How are you?”
“I don’t know how to answer that, Keaton. I’ve regretted coming back here. Never thought I’d say that.”
“We should all get together sometime soon. Maybe do the things we used to do—maybe try some new things.” I wanted to see him and Brandy, but my sickness was spreading, and I couldn’t have them see me this way. I was different—in a constant state of change, beginning to want things that were wrong. I no longer had Noah to blame for any of it. The culprit was split between myself and Braedan.
“It might have to be sooner than expected.”
“What do you mean?” I jolted up and grabbed a pair of jeans from the pile of rejected items on the floor, and wiggled into the slim-fitting denims.
“I might be moving back to Chicago, and Brandy…well, the bitch was so spooked by what happened to you and Sonja…she disappeared.”
“I thought she was on a sabbatical. What do you mean disappeared?”
“Veronica said she left a note about taking a trip with a new man she met and wouldn’t be back.”
I had trouble swallowing. I couldn’t put anything past Noah, but I hoped he was spouting idle threats when he indirectly warned he’d go after the people I loved.
“Keaton, are you there?”
“We should get together,” I told Nathan, not wanting to alarm him. “Before you leave, I mean.”
I could’ve been mistaken, but I thought I heard him mumble, “It might be too late.” Preempting my question, he added, “We will, Keaton. I hope.”
“Nathan,” I called, hoping he hadn’t hung up.
“Please, be careful.”
“Always.”
The moment I ended the call, I contacted my security team and asked that someone be sent to look after Nathan. My next call was to Brandy, expecting the worse. When I heard the recorded message, my feelings were quickly squashed. She sounded genial as she claimed she’d met the hottest guy ever and was going to travel the world for a while. She would return the calls she cared about when the mood hit her—were her exact words.
I waited for the beep and left her a message. “Brandy, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I need to know you’re safe. If you can, please call me. Let me know you’re okay. If I don’t hear from you in forty-eight hours…I’m going to call the police.”
It had been years since anyone had taken me ice-skating. It had been a few more years since I’d been able to do anything remotely carefree. Too many years were spent constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if Gregory would be there. His lingering presence never allowed me to be comfortable enough to enjoy myself. Being placed in a situation where I could, it was hard to be comfortable. My tormenter was wearing a different face and showing me a different personality. But the captives he kept in his basement kept me away from experiencing safety in his warmth and protection.
A minor, darker part of me felt Nadine and Adam deserved whatever horrors Braedan had in store for them. If I were him, and I was betrayed as he claimed he was, I could understand why he would seek a severe solution. The two of them were responsible for the worst. The least of the evil trio had to be Mrs. Sherman.
As I remembered asking her for help at Rebirth, and the way she quickly declined any assistance, I wondered if she’d done something in her past that would correctly relegate her as no better than Adam or Nadine. Worst yet, if all that Braedan said was true and they sat back and watched me splinter because of their loyalty to the man who succeeded in breaking me, should I have cared about any of them?
How different would I be if I took their judgements in my hands and wished them the worst? I would be as equal of a monster as they were.
It was my fifth round around the rink. I’d caught my bearings and remembered the moves I used to love to perform as a kid when I visited the rink with my friends. I passed Braedan by for the third time. He hung tightly to the railing and had trouble. He lost his grip and fell backward, landing down hard on the ice.
A few bystanders laughed and I immediately felt a tinge of guilt. I circled back around and held my mitten-covered hands out to him.
His face brightened as he pulled himself on the guide wall. “I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me. Enjoy yourself.”
“You brought me here when you had no idea how to ice-skate? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged coyly.
It would qualify as the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. Sidling over to him while trying to tame my smile I reached out for his hands. “Did my mother put you up to this?”
“She told me it had been a while for you, and that it was something you enjoyed as a teenager.”
“It was.” I spun on a dime and rearranged his hands to grip my waist. “Hold on to me. I’ll help you get your balance.”
“Keaton—”
“Don’t be stubborn, Braedan. I would never live it down if you broke a bone.”
I was only able to direct him for a few inches before his hands slipped off my waist and he fell backward again. He took it all in stride and gave me a wea
k and crooked smile to put me at ease. “I think I’m going to sit this one out and watch you. Do you mind?”
A couple of women skated by, giggling and staring at Braedan with dreamy looks on their faces. “Your boyfriend is sweet to do this for you. Mine would never dream of making a fool out of himself on the ice for me.” The stranger patted my shoulder. “You got a good one.”
What minor fun I received out of the moment had been completely sucked away. “I think I’m ready to go.” I reached down and helped him steady himself to stand. “Hold on tight to me without trying to skate. Let me lead you this time.”
Disappointment fell across his face like a dark and solemn blanket. It affected me in a severe and surprising way. The inclination to forget in the moment and make him feel better was hard to suppress.
Nodding, he gingerly held onto my waist allowing me to take him to the exit.
I found an empty bench by the rink to sit on. Leaning down over my lap, I began to unlace my skates.
“Can you at least stay for hot chocolate?” He lifted my chin, forcing me upright. He clutched both of my legs at the calves and placed them over his lap. “I was informed it was a tradition.” He unlaced my skates with a steady focus.
My mother seemed to spill a lot of my secrets to him, proving once more the extent of her skewed judge of character. I couldn’t deny I also inherited that trait from her. “Can we…stop pretending?”
After successfully removing both skates, he grabbed my legs and pulled me close to him. Embracing my face with one hand, he slanted forward. His breath splayed across my lips as he whispered, “I’m not the one pretending.”
Brushing his mouth against mine, he teased me, leaving me wanting more. I parted my lips for a full-on kiss.
Involuntarily, my thighs clenched together, fighting the painful burn slowly growing there.
Shaking his head, he parted from my mouth. “Hot chocolate. Movie. Dinner at my home. Do what you promised me, then I’ll give you the power to decide where we go from there.”
Seducing Virtue (Wicked Trinity Book 3) Page 12
