Entropy: A Dark Romance (Blood Diamond Disciples Book 1)

by Riley Ashby

  I got into the best defensive stance I could manage with my ankle the way it was. “Stay away from me.”

  Colby was about an inch shorter than Gunner with light brown hair, where Gunner’s was nearly black. He bit his lip as he grinned, eyes glinting in the low light. Every time I looked at him, it was to catch him watching. But unlike Gunner, I couldn’t find even the smallest shred of kindness or compassion in his gaze. His blue eyes were as dead as winter’s ice.

  “Don’t worry, we’ve all got strict orders not to fuck you.” He smirked, and I knew my face must express some sort of shock. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”

  “I don’t want you touching me at all.” My voice didn’t shake, but my heart was pounding, and spots danced at the corners of my vision. “Come closer, and I’ll scream.”

  He snagged my arm around the wrist. “I’d love to hear that. Was it the same sound you made for Gunner the other night when he gave you those hickeys?” White teeth glinted in the low light as he leaned his head closer. “I could make it good for you if you want.” He bit his lip. “I can be better than him.”

  “Let. Me. Go.” All my weight was pulling on my arm, trying to get the feel of his skin off mine. “I’ll scream. I’ll hit you in the face just like I did your boss.”

  “And how do you think that will go for you? He likes me a lot more than he likes your little boyfriend. Actually, go ahead and attack me. Maybe Vin will hand you over to me after all.” He took a step closer, and I pulled back on my arm even more as I shrank against the wall. “And I don’t care about any promises he made to preserve your dignity.”

  My heart shrank in my chest. He wasn’t lying. It was obvious in his face. Gunner, where are you? How much longer could I stall him? “Let go of me now, and I won’t tell him that you broke his rules.”

  We stared at each other for a heartbeat longer. I was ready to move and send my knee to his groin, but at the last second, he released my arm—and with all my weight pointed back toward me, I hit myself in the face.

  “Fuck!” I pressed both hands over the site of the impact as Colby laughed maniacally.

  “That was better than I could have imagined!”

  My eye was stinging as if pierced by a needle. Was this what it was like to be stabbed? “You’re a real piece of shit. No wonder he hates you.”

  “I did what you asked. You can’t be mad about that.”

  Far away, a door slammed open, and a moment later, two sets of footsteps entered the room. “Time for you to go.” I sighed in relief at his voice even though my head was beginning to ring from the punch, and I was embarrassed at what I’d done to myself. Colby stepped back, and I looked at Gunner with one eye, my hands still pressed over the sore spot. Gunner’s nostrils flared as he turned to Colby. “What’s going on down here?”

  “Bitch thinks she can tell me what to do.” He fake lunged at me, and I cowered against the wall. “I showed her otherwise.”

  He barely got the words out of his mouth before Gunner grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him backward, stepping between us. “I told you to keep your hands off her.”

  “She did that to herself.” He tilted his head and sneered at me. “Tell him, sweetheart.”

  I was ready to spit in his face, but Gunner blocked my view of the man completely. “We’re done. Get out of my house, now.” Gunner pushed Colby away from me, and for once, Vin followed his lead.

  “Get yourself together, Colby. You know better.”

  Gunner was still spitting expletives, not bothering to listen to his boss. “You disrespect my rules again, and I’ll rip your face off. This isn’t over.”

  “The fuck it isn’t, I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Colby, let’s go.”

  With one final disgusted look over his shoulder, Colby and Vin fled the room. Gunner glared into the dark until we heard a door close far away upstairs.

  Once we were alone, he turned on me and reached for my face. I flinched, expecting another blow, and he stopped. “I’m not going to … just let me see.”

  “I don’t want any of you touching me anymore.”

  “You have to—”

  “I don’t have to do anything!” I swatted at his hand, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. He twisted my arm behind my back, then grabbed my other hand when I raised it to slap him. In two seconds, he had both my wrists in one of his hands.

  “Let go!” How did I find myself here, begging to be released by three different men in the span of only a few minutes?

  “For the love of God, I’m trying to help you!”

  No more men touching me, now or ever. I felt sick and dirty as I twisted my shoulders side to side, but he held my hands locked behind my back with ease. With his free hand, he grabbed my chin and held my face still. I kept my eyes on his, trying to predict his movements. His lips parted slightly as he looked at my cheek, releasing me to run his fingers gently over the center of the pain. I flinched.

  “Thank you for holding still,” he said.

  Shit, he was right. I’d stopped fighting him.

  “Only because I’m afraid you’ll hurt me.”

  His fingers rested against my cheek, pressing away the sting from Colby’s attack. His thumb grazed my chin. My chin tilted up, body sinking toward him as he released my wrists and placed his hand on the small of my back.

  “I don’t think that’s why.”

  I closed my mouth and looked away.

  “Wait here.”

  Where would I go? I sank onto the cot and touched my face with my hands. Both my cheeks were hot now. Why was I still affected by him like this, even after what he’d done to me? He took advantage of me before drugging me and kidnapping me. That should be the end of any lingering attraction to him. Instead, whenever he came into the room, I was always aware of where he stood. Whenever he touched me, my skin burned long after he moved away. And one thing was for sure—I never wanted to be alone with any of those other men, but being alone with him didn’t scare me. Much.

  I was staring at the floor when the door opened again, and I shut my eyes as the bed shifted under his weight.

  “Here.” He pulled one hand away from my face and replaced it with cool, soft cotton. I put my hand over his, intending to hold the ice myself, but he let his hand rest for a moment before pulling it out from underneath mine. “Does that help?”

  “I guess.” There wasn’t anything topical that could help with my overall situation, but at least this would keep the swelling down.

  “You’ll have a bruise.”

  “Whatever.” I couldn’t be bothered to care about what my face looked like.

  He bit his lip and grabbed my chin again, tugging me toward him. “Your skin is pretty bruised. I wish I’d been the one to give it to you.”

  “You wish you’d hit me?”

  “In more ways than you could possibly imagine.”

  The heat in his eyes made me whimper. My nipples went hard beneath my clothes, and suddenly, the room didn’t have enough air. “I want to go home.”

  He sighed and shifted, placing a hand on my back. “I know. It’ll be over soon.”

  “We both know that’s not true.”

  We sat in silence while I let the ice work on my face. As much as I wanted to ignore it, his hand became a soothing weight. When my cheek went numb, I pulled the ice away and held it out to him.

  “You can go back upstairs now. I’ll be fine.”

  He took the ice in one hand, and the other gently cupped my cheek and pulled me toward him. We stared at each other, pulled too close in an already confined space, and for a second, the room went dark, and we were back on the sidewalk in the cold, his steady hand holding my body still, and I thought to myself, this man saved your life.

  His fingers squeezed my chin gently. “We both know that’s not true.”

  I shut my eyes.

  I had to remind myself what was really going on here. He had lied to me, seduced me, then drugged me
. This man had allowed me to be chained and caged like an animal in his own home. He wasn’t here to protect me, just to keep me in. And you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

  “You’re going to have a bruise, maybe a black eye,” he said. “Colby’s a piece of shit. I don’t know why Vin keeps him around. He never—”

  “Just stop,” I whispered. “I know what you’re doing.”

  For a moment, he looked genuinely confused, but then he got his face under control. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

  I threw my hands in the air. “I don’t know what you call it, good cop bad cop? Stockholm syndrome strategy? Stop being nice to me. It’s messing with my head. I’m going to need enough therapy as it is once this is over.”

  He looked down and drummed his fingers on the cot. “I’m not trying to mess with you.”

  “Well, trying or not, you are.” I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  I couldn’t understand the sinking in my heart. Why did I so badly want him to take me in his arms, and at the same time, stay as far away as possible? Like it or not, he was the only person who had been remotely kind to me throughout this whole ordeal. But I still couldn’t trust him. His motivation lay in loyalty to those other people, not to me. Yet something still connected inside us, drawing my heart to him through my rib cage even as my hands pushed him away.

  I tried now to extricate myself from his grasp, but he slipped one arm around my waist and caught my chin with his other hand.

  “You’re shaking,” he murmured, grazing his lips across my jawline.

  My tongue turned to dust in my mouth. I couldn’t respond, or I would cry. I fought the vicious tug-of-war in my mind, placing my hand against his chest to keep him at bay while simultaneously moving my hips toward his. He stared through my eyes, into my thoughts. He knew what this was doing to me. He was playing a game.

  When I didn’t respond, he sighed and ran his thumb over my cheek. My skin was numb, but every nerve ending was set on fire as it connected with his. There was no resurgence of pain, only a tingling awakening that spread from my skull straight to the pit of my stomach. I gripped my hands into fists against my knees and tightened my shoulders.

  He lingered only seconds, then stood in one swift movement. My eyes were still closed when the door shut behind him.

  I couldn’t sleep. Every time I turned over on the thin cot, I was reminded either of the bruise on my face or the feeling of a man’s soft lips against it. I couldn’t handle this game he was playing. It was one I didn’t know how to win. My self-defense lessons had kept me safe from egregious harm, but any one of these men could overpower me in an instant if they put their mind to it. Without being able to flee, what good did it do to fight back? I’d only made them angrier.

  And the only person who could help me was a man I desired and despised in equal measure.

  Without the watch, I had no sense of time. I stared at the wall, ate food as it was brought to me, and hoped Gunner was keeping me on some sort of schedule. Without an alarm to wake me, I couldn’t tell if I was sleeping later or waking earlier than normal. If the light was off when I woke up, I remained immobile in bed until it flickered to life. The next day was more of the same, except Gunner pulled away even more. He flashed the lights for me once, and I braced myself for another visit from Vin, but I didn’t hear so much as footsteps outside the door of my tiny prison.

  In the morning, I stripped down to my underwear and washed my body with a few of the wet wipes I’d been given. After it dried, my skin was tacky, crusted over with the residue of soap not meant to be used on the human body. I balled up the last one and threw it into the trash bin with the others, glaring at the pile of papery cloth.

  I had never seen such wipes growing up. I used microfiber cloths to remove my makeup, washed regularly in strong detergent followed by a gentle fabric softener that made them as soft as lambswool. When I got to college, I borrowed a few disposables from a roommate once when I neglected to do my laundry on time. Thinking it was similar to toilet paper, I tried to flush it, only to eventually cause the school’s out-of-date plumbing to spill gallons of water back into the bathroom. I fought back tears as the RA lectured the entire floor, beyond embarrassed at such a faux pas, but my roommates found the entire situation hysterical.

  And now … I had a whole package of them.

  An idea flickered to life in my mind, burning as quickly as a forest fire.

  This was my way out.

  I kept away from the monitor most of the day. I could lose an entire day watching her if I wasn’t careful. Truthfully, I wanted to coddle her. The bruise she gave herself was visible even on the camera, and it had to hurt—she kept her hand over her face most of the time. I wanted to kiss it to take away the pain, then strike her harder in other places, areas hidden by clothing. Marks only for me to see in the dead of night. But I was already toeing the line with Vin after I nearly beat Colby to a pulp in front of her. I had more things I needed to do, chores to complete and preparations to be made that didn’t involve Quinn. I even took the dogs outside for a while, walking in circles with them around the house as they buried themselves in the snow and sniffed every tree in the vicinity a hundred times. Blanca, the female, absolutely loved the snow and could’ve stayed outside for hours. But when my toes started to go numb, I rounded them up, and we went back inside.

  They waited patiently as I dried their feet, then put my own boots in the tray and hung up my coat. Nicky, the male, went straight to the basement door and sniffed at the handle, then started whining. I frowned. The dogs knew they weren’t allowed in the basement, and they never fought me on it. Surely, they knew a person was down there, but why show an interest after two days? Moments later, Blanca joined him, pawing at the handle. I directed them away and headed to the monitor. The German Shepherds followed me, glancing over their shoulders at the door more than once as we walked to the back of the house.

  Quinn wasn’t on the cot like she was when I left. She was jumping up and down, waving her arms and yelling silently. I scanned her from head to toe, looking for injuries, but nothing was wrong with her aside from her slight wobble on her injured ankle. The reason for her distress was water—spilling over the floor and gathering around her feet.

  “Fuck!” I ran from the room. I knew that plumbing hookup was no good. I didn’t care if Vin wanted to pay to build a goddamn panopticon in the basement; I wasn’t doing any more modifications to my house. How was I going to clean this up by myself and keep her secure? She couldn’t stay down there. It would take days to dry out the floor, plus whatever would be needed to fix the plumbing. My fingers fumbled with the code, but after entering it three times, the door swung open. I barreled down the stairs and unlocked the cage. Water was already seeping from beneath the door, but once it was open, it began to flow out swift as a river. I cursed again.

  “What the fuck happened?”

  Quinn’s jeans were soaked three inches from the hem. She’d taken off the cuff and wasn’t bothering to hide it. Shit, there was footage I’d need to erase. She climbed onto the cot to take the weight off her ankle. “I don’t know, I was just sitting on the bed, and water started coming out…”

  “Goddammit.” I shoved past her to the back of the room and into the tiny bathroom, dropping to one knee next to the toilet. I barely had time to register the white sheets floating in the water before pain exploded at the back of my head, and I landed on my elbows in the water.

  “What the hell?” I started to push to my feet as the pain from my head spread down my spine to my lower back. Before I could get my legs under me, it happened again. This time my arms gave out, and I fell facedown in the inch of water sitting on the floor.

  “I had to,” she said through the fog between my ears.

  What did she mean?

  She hit you.

  No. Everything we knew about Quinn Allen said she was non-confrontational to a fault. We had records of text messages where she complained about
unfairly losing points on her assignments, but she wouldn’t speak to the teachers about it even when it was a legitimate mistake. Her friends would blow her off to hang out with guys they met on dating apps, and she never batted an eye.

  Then again, she did punch my mobster boss in the face for putting his hand on her thigh.

  “Don’t,” I warned. My tongue barely moved. This was bad.

  “What would you do if you were me?”

  I didn’t get a chance to respond. Her footsteps splashed next to my ear, then faded, and finally were gone.

  I sucked in a deep breath, coughing a little as I inhaled water as well as air and focused on trying to get to my hands and knees. My joints wobbled like jelly, but I held still and forced myself to focus. I had to get upstairs and stop her.

  How did she hit me so hard?

  My hands latched onto the side of the toilet, and I struggled to my feet. My head was clearing, so I focused on stumbling toward the door. The stairs provided a bit of a challenge, but by the time I reached the open door at the top, I was able to stand up straight. Quinn was speaking in a hushed tone, loud enough for me to hear her but not enough for me to understand. And, of course, there were the dogs. Both were barking madly, confused by the stranger’s presence and unsure what to do. I rounded the corner into the main room to find her next to the couch, holding her hand toward the dogs for them to sniff, and one finger to her lips as if to shush them. I coughed, and her head snapped up as she froze.

  We locked eyes for one second, and then she ran for the kitchen, hand outstretched toward the knife block on the counter. I didn’t even move.

  “Blanca, subdue,” I commanded, spurring another wet cough.

  The dog wasted no time. She was on Quinn in a second, teeth locked into her arm, not enough to bleed but enough of a threat to bring her to a halt. The moment she stopped moving, Blanca jumped on her and brought her crashing to the ground. Quinn started struggling to stand, but Blanca put her muzzle against her ear and growled. I took my time walking over, giving myself a few more moments to catch my breath. My head was still ringing.