“Grab your things, you’re at my private quarters now,” he states.
A shiver runs up and down my spine, and I try to keep from physically shaking in front of him. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice, and he turns away from me. The crowd disperses, and I make my way toward the nursery to gather my things.
When I first arrived here, I thought for sure that I would be thrust into a man’s arms and forced to be his wife, but after two years it still hasn’t happened. I’m grateful but confused, I’m eighteen, and according to them, more than old enough to breed, yet I haven’t been touched. I don’t want to be with any of the awful men, though. In fact, the first chance I get, I’m getting the hell out of here. I don’t care where I end up, I just want out.
FREE
TWENTY YEARS OLD
I scrub my hand over my face. I’m glad to be away from home for a few days. Gemma isn’t getting any better, in fact, she’s only gotten worse. After her attack I got the doc to get her pills to sleep. She was refusing to close her eyes, and after a week straight of being awake, I couldn’t handle it anymore.
The pills have helped, except now she’s fucking dependent on them. It’s been months and she refuses to talk to anyone about what happened. She refuses to go anywhere or to see anyone. She’s become afraid of her own fucking shadow, and me. I feel so goddamn guilty that I keep her pill supply flowing, in hopes that they give her at least a moment’s relief.
I found the fucks that hurt her, and I tortured them. Then, when I was finished, I gutted them. I enjoyed watching their organs fall from their bodies onto the floor. I fucking loved it and for a moment I thought that Gemma would be okay, that we would be okay.
When I told her that they weren’t anything to worry about anymore, it didn’t ease her nightmares. Nothing has eased them, not even the pills, they just help her sleep. She screams and cries in my arms every single night. I hate myself for what happened to her. Selfishly, I want my girl back. I know that the sweet girl she once was is gone, and I fucking miss her.
Walking up her apartment staircase, I suck in a deep breath before I go inside. Everything is quiet, and I frown. Gemma has to have noise now, usually it’s the television, but sometimes she blasts the radio. I get this gut sinking feeling the farther into the apartment I walk.
When I make my way into the bedroom and find it empty, my frown deepens. Turning the corner, I walk into the bathroom and I freeze. Gemma is lying on the bathroom floor, her blonde hair all around her like a halo. Her lips and face blue with a pill bottle next to her hand.
Sinking to my knees, I pick her stiff, cold, lifeless body up and I hold her against my chest.
“Gemma, babe,” I shout, my fingers digging into her flesh.
I shake her, then hold her close, my ass slamming to the floor, and my back against the wall. We stay like that for far too long. I’m stoic, my girl is gone forever.
It was all my own fucking doing.
I killed her.
Nobody else but me.
CHAPTER ONE
WHITLEY
I look down at my hands wringing together in my lap. The woman sitting across from me, Hayden, is going to be Zachary Brooks’ new wife. I want to tell her to run, run far and fast. However, I can’t. She has the sweetest little boy and I can’t imagine what they would do to her, or him, if they caught her. I warn her as best as I can about Zachary, but it doesn’t really matter, because she’s stuck, just like I’m stuck.
Inhaling deeply, I pinch my eyes closed as I think about the last woman who was caught attempting to escape. She was pregnant. They didn’t care, Zachary didn’t care. They all punished her, the men taught her a lesson and then they performed a C-section and took the baby, letting her bleed out on the table. Watching as her body died right in front of them, never allowing her to even see her child. They’re all monsters—every single one of them.
Hayden tips her head to the side, her lips rolling together. She looks tired and I know it’s because of Zachary’s late-night trysts with the four cooks. He doesn’t bother even attempting to be quiet and although this house is big, it isn’t well insulated, and everybody can hear him fucking those girls, every single night.
“I’m not one of them,” I state. “He doesn’t even look twice at me,” I explain. Hayden’s mouth drops open slightly and her brows lift in surprise. “At one time, I thought that I wanted his eye, I thought it was a way to stay safe. But I really don’t.”
“Something happened to one of them?” Hayden guesses.
Thinking about Annabelle, I shake my head. “Not them, they’re all pretty new. It was one of his girls before. He killed her in the middle of it. Choked her to death,” I whisper. Leaning over the table, I continue, “He didn’t even care. He actually finished inside of her, then called some of his men and had them bury her out in the woods.”
Tears fill my eyes and I lift my hand, dashing away some of them. I tell Hayden how Annabelle was only sixteen, just three years younger than me. Zachary didn’t even care, he just went on with his day like nothing had happened.
“Anastasia took her place later that same day. It was then that I realized I didn’t want to be one of his girls, that I was safer being invisible and caring for these children,” I admit.
With a trembling hand, Hayden reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers. “I’ve been held like one of them before, used like them and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,” she breathes. I nod, squeezing her hand in mine.
I can see just by looking into her eyes that she’s seen and been through some terrible things. As most of the women here have. I count myself lucky that I’ve skirted past most of the atrocities, by being able to stay out of sight and out of mind. I’ve made myself useful but kept my head down enough to continue to be unseen.
My entire body freezes when I hear the four cooks screaming from the kitchen. Then I hear things clanking and banging around, sounding much like a struggle. “Stay here with the kids,” Hayden states.
“There’s an underground shelter, I’ll take them there,” I explain.
Hayden frowns, shaking her head. There is no way Hayden can do anything if we’re under some kind of attack. She’s not only petite, but she’s also very thin and could be overpowered in a heartbeat. I have a better chance of fighting off an intruder. At five-foot-nine I may not have a ton of weight behind me, but I’m bigger than her, taller too.
“Don’t do that yet. If I don’t come back in five minutes, then take them,” she says, and her tone is stronger than anything I’ve heard from her before. She’s taking charge, and I personally didn’t think she had that in her.
My brows knit together but I nod, five minutes, I could give her five minutes—nothing more though. She hands Easton to me, across the table, as she stands and hurries toward the kitchen. Easton reaches for Hayden, but he doesn’t make a sound. It’s as if he knows that something is up as well. The other children look around, but as usual, they stay quiet.
I stand, after what feels like several minutes, although it’s probably only been thirty seconds, and decide to make my way toward the kitchen to check on Hayden. A hand clamps down on my arm and tugs me backward.
“Make a noise and you die,” Zachary hisses in my ear.
His hot breath blows on my neck and I pinch my eyes closed, trying to stay quiet. He tugs me backward, wrapping his hand around my mouth. Easton lets out a small whimper and I hold him close to me, trying to keep him quiet so that Zachary won’t hurt him. I’ve seen what he does when a child angers him.
“Go sit against the wall, children,” he demands.
I watch as all of the older children stand before helping their younger siblings, and walk over to the wall, then slowly sink down onto the ground. All eleven children sit quietly, stoically, and wait for further instruction. They’re like little zombies, and I wonder not for the first time if he has sedatives put in their food. It wouldn’t surprise me, he is a master manipulator.
My eyes take in the scene b
efore me. Hayden appears curled next to a man in a leather vest. He has long hair and a long beard. He’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I can’t take my eyes off of them, this must be the man whose mark she wears on her chest. I’d heard Zachary talk about her marks and how a man gave them to her, but I didn’t understand, not until now.
“The fuck,” the man with Hayden, rasps.
“You dirty pieces of shit. Get the fuck out, or she and the kid get it,” Zachary growls against my ear.
My stomach clenches with fear. Zachary’s threats are not idle. He will kill me, and he will kill Easton without a second’s hesitation.
The man at Hayden’s side chuckles, and I hear more boots stomping as the room fills with the rest of the men. I’ve never seen men like this before. They’re all big, and burly. They make the room smell like oil and sweat.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before—they make my stomach flutter and confuse me all at the same time.
I hear someone suck in a breath, letting it out in a hiss and my eyes connect with brown ones. They’re the color of dark chocolate. His hair is black, and he has dark stubble on his face. My breath hitches at the sight of him. His skin is olive in complexion, it looks bronze, and I lick my lips because for some reason I have the insane desire to lick him.
“She ain’t gonna be hurt, and neither is the kid. Matter of fact, no kids are going to be hurt,” another man announces. I can’t take my eyes off of the dark-haired man, to see who is speaking. I’m glued to him.
Zachary laughs, and it sends a chill up my spine. “Who says? Maybe I’ll hurt them just for fun. They don’t matter, anyway. I can get other bitches in my house and have another half a dozen kids in the blink of an eye.”
I whimper because I know Zachary is telling the truth. He is not bluffing, he really doesn’t give a shit about human life, especially female human life. We are here for one purpose and one purpose only—to breed. He pushes the knife a little harder against my neck and my bottom lip trembles as he shallowly cuts my skin.
In the blink of an eye, the handsome stranger lifts his hand and I hear his gun blast. My body naturally reacts as I let out a blood-curdling scream along with the children in the room. The stranger tucks his gun in the back of his pants at the same time Zachary’s body crumples to the floor behind me.
I try to catch my breath, my body trembling as I stand in a pool of Zachary’s blood.
“Fuck that sick motherfucker,” the sexy stranger growls.
I watch, my eyes widening as he marches toward me. He bends slightly, slipping an arm beneath my knees and another around my back as he scoops me into his arms. Silently he walks us toward Hayden.
Without even thinking, I hand a crying Easton off to her. She presses her lips together, taking him from my arms and then she gives me a shaky smile.
“Any of these kids yours?” the man gruffly barks as he walks past the line of children.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lean my head against his chest, suddenly feeling exhausted. “No,” I breathe.
He doesn’t stop walking, in fact, his movements speed up as he traipses through the kitchen and then outside. I expect him to release me, but he doesn’t, he keeps me close, his grip tight as he marches over to a pickup truck.
Only then does he set me down in the seat. Taking the seatbelt, he locks it into place around me. I hold my breath the entire time. He doesn’t touch me, but he lifts his eyes to mine and he stares deep into them.
“Stay here,” he grunts.
A second later he slams the door, and I’m left alone in the truck. My breathing comes in pants, and I turn my head to watch him walk away. His jeans fit him perfectly, hanging from his hips without being too loose, his thighs look thick, his legs long. My eyes scan up from his ass and take in the back of his vest.
Notorious Devils is embroidered along the back.
My breath hitches.
Visions of my parents talking about the Notorious Devils, that it’s where they were going to take us, to save us, three years ago dance in my head. That’s who Samuel and Zachary claimed killed them. Lies. My mom was right, they are protectors.
FREE
I make my way over to Torch who is looking around the grounds that surround the house for any kind of traps or mines. He stops his movements when I approach, and I watch as his eyes point toward my truck before they come back to me.
“You find yourself something?” he asks, a smirk tipping his lips.
A low growl rumbles in my chest, but I don’t comment like I want to. I want to tell him to fuck himself, to keep his eyes away from the curvy brunette in my truck, but I don’t. “We’re leaving,” I announce.
Torch’s lips twitch. “Yeah, brother. You headed back to the cabins or home?” he asks, his eyes fucking dancing. I’m glad he thinks this is all fucking fun and games.
“Home,” I growl. “My phone’s on if you need me.”
Turning away from him, I stomp back toward my truck. I can hear his laughter behind me, so I lift my hand and flip him off over my shoulder. “Have fun, brother. Nothing wrong with keeping the spoils of war for yourself, my man,” he calls out.
My steps don’t falter, even if my heart begins to race.
Is that what this is?
Is that what she is?
I shake my head. No, she’s more than just a spoil from war. One look into her eyes and I knew she was something bigger. I knew that I had to take her. I don’t know what that means, what this feeling means when I look into her eyes, but I want to know.
For the first time in seventeen years, I want to know what secrets lie behind a woman’s eyes. Not just what’s between her legs, or how her mouth can make me feel, but I want to know her. This stranger, this woman that has probably seen the same hells that I have. This woman that is more girl than actual woman, but I don’t fucking care.
There is something there and I need to know what it is. Maybe it’s nothing, and once my curiosity is satisfied I’ll be able to walk away or push her away. I don’t know, but nobody has rendered me fucking frozen and speechless before, not even Gemma. That deserves to be explored.
I open the driver’s door and climb inside of my pickup. Shoving my key in the ignition I turn the truck and start it up before shifting it into drive.
“Free,” I growl.
She turns to face me, but I don’t look at her, I keep my gaze straight ahead. I can feel her eyes on me, searing my skin and I hiss, waiting for her to speak. I need to hear her voice, not her terrified whisper, but her real fucking voice.
“I’m Whitley,” she says.
Slowly, I twist my head to look at her. Her amber colored eyes fucking glitter as she looks directly at me, they look like cat eyes, they don’t look real. Her voice washes over me and it fucking soothes my soul, it’s that goddamn sweet.
“You’re coming home with me, Kitten,” I rasp.
She blinks, and a ghost of a smile appears on her lips. “Okay, Free,” she nods.
Just like that, I press my foot to the gas, and I tear out of that fucking nightmare of a hellhole. I’m taking her home. I don’t know what will happen next, but I need to know. I need to find out what it is about her that makes me suddenly feel again.
CHAPTER TWO
WHITLEY
The drive toward our destination is silent. I don’t know where we’re going but the farther away from the compound we drive, the more at ease I become. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I feel more comfortable next to this man than I have for the past three years at the compound.
Free doesn’t stop, he powers down the road and I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palm. I want to ask him a million questions, but I don’t want him to be annoyed with me. One thing I learned in my life, was to keep quiet.
Zachary required silence, always. Samuel preferred quiet, but not completely the way Zachary did. I personally just tried to blend in with the furniture, no matter which man was around.
We pull into a gas st
ation a few hours down the road and I hold my breath as the pickup comes to a stop at the pump. “You hungry?” his gruff voice asks.
My stomach growls, and I watch as his head turns and his chin dips down before he lifts his eyes to mine. “Guess you are,” he smirks. “C’mon. Grab some snacks here and when we get closer to civilization, I’ll get you some real food.”
Slipping out of the pickup truck, I tug on my knee length drapey sundress. It hides my body, all of my body. Which, when you’re around Zachary Brooks, is a good thing. But when you’re around a man you want to actually see you, it’s not.
I shake my head. I’m stupid. I don’t even know him, what do I care if he sees me? I shouldn’t want him to.
The gas station convenience store is probably shitty, but to a girl who hasn’t seen anything like it in over three years, it’s magnificent. I walk over to the frozen Icee machine and inhale. I can smell the sugary syrup and it makes my mouth water.
“You want a frozen Coke?” Free asks from behind me.
My back stiffens, and I shake my head. He grunts, but I turn away from the machine and head down an aisle with chips and candy. I grab a bag of cheese crackers, some peanut butter sandwich crackers, and a small bag of dark chocolate M&M’s. I take my items up to the cash register, feeling awkward because I don’t have a penny to my name to pay for any of it.
Free is standing there, and I quietly place my items down next to him. I take a step back and tip my chin down to look at my feet. It’s an automatic response, to always be at least two steps behind a man, any man. And have your gaze held down, always.
“You guys on a road trip?” the man behind the counter asks.
I don’t answer, another thing women don’t do, speak in public. Free only grunts as he digs his money out of his pocket and slams it down on the counter.
Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3) Page 2
