The Bastard Prince (Crellids Book 1)

by Chloe Walsh

  I frowned, noticing that every one of them bore a flaming crucifix on their necks.

  The shared tattoo was no bigger than the size of a thumb, but I knew what it symbolized.

  The army.

  His army.

  "That is not your concern," Trig finally replied, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, noted that I was still following him, and then nodded in approval before continuing down the corridor.

  A flicker of defiance sparked to life inside of me and I stopped walking.

  Something inside of me demanded that I not allow this man, who was once my equal, to ignore me.

  When Trig finally noticed I wasn't beside him, he turned around and retraced his steps, looking unimpressed.

  "Walk." He narrowed his eyes. "Now."

  "Tell me," I pushed, feeling a spark of fire ignite inside of me. "How do you know your way around my house, Trigger?"

  We had a full-on ninety second stare down where neither one of us moved a muscle, let alone blinked, before he blew out a frustrated growl.

  "Do you remember when we raised the army?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Obviously."

  The seven years Trig and I had spent together had been spent plotting our revenge on Fabio.

  Day in, day out, nights awake, nights dreaming…

  At first, it was a pipe dream. A silly notion tossed around from one wounded child to another in a bid to both comfort one another and cope with the desolation in our lives – in our fragile minds.

  Back then, I couldn’t see a way out of Trigger Laperro if I wanted to. I was trapped inside his personal hell just as deeply as he was trapped inside of mine.

  Orphans.

  Friends.

  Comrades.

  Protectors.

  Equals.

  But then something had switched.

  Our bodies changed.

  Our feelings deepened.

  Our lust for vengeance grew.

  Our brains merged.

  Our pain fused.

  Until we were one.

  Lovers.

  Soulmates.

  Wolf and lamb.

  King and queen.

  Always equals.

  My pain was his pain and his battles were my battles.

  Ride or die.

  In our foolish naivety and thirst for vengeance, we plotted to overthrow his father. Knowing that taking the lives of his children would never suffice, we had planned to hit Fabio Crellid where it would hurt the most.

  We planned to take his power.

  Instinctively, my hand moved to my other arm, thumb trailing over the letters branded on the inside of my wrist.

  The letters that matched the ones on his wrist.

  He glared back at me. "It was here."

  My eyes widened in surprise. "This was HQ?"

  He offered me a clipped nod and strode off.

  This time, I hurried after him.

  "Wait – you've been using my father's home as a what? A whorehouse? A warehouse? A hideout? A drug den? A shipping compound?"

  When he didn’t respond, I had my answer.

  All of the above.

  "How?" I choked out, stunned. "How in the hell did you manage to do this under his nose?"

  And without telling me…

  "I clearly didn’t," he shot back flatly. "You belong to me, and this –" he gestured around us, "has always been mine." He shrugged unapologetically. "You were promised to me many years ago, corderito. It has been mine since then. Where did you think I was doing it?"

  "I thought you said it was ours," I whispered, tightening my hold on my wrist.

  "What?"

  "This place," I replied flatly. "You said it was ours."

  "You know what I mean, corderito." His eyes darkened and his jaw ticked. "It is mine in his eyes."

  "You should have told me," was all I replied, deciding to let it go, too weary to fight anymore today.

  "I told you too much," was his curt reply. "And look where it got us."

  Here we go.

  Back to the blame game.

  I shook my head. "Whatever, Trig."

  He arched brow. "Whatever?"

  "Yeah, Trig." I sighed, feeling my shoulders slump in defeat. "Whatever. Keep it all. The house. The estate. The army. The money. The overseas accounts. I don’t care. I don’t want it anymore." I wrapped my arms around my middle, wincing in discomfort. "I'm done."

  Anger flashed in his eyes. "Stop it."

  "Stop what?"

  "Acting as if you are dead on the inside."

  I shrugged. "Maybe I am."

  "You are not dead, corderito. You are wounded and behaving like a child. Like a weak little girl," he growled, stepping closer. "And it does not suit you."

  "What do you care?" I deadpanned. "You left me. For two years. And then you let him imprison me in a fucking whorehouse for a week."

  If he could play the blame game, then so could I.

  "Another pity party, corderito?" He cocked another condescending brow. "I thought more of you."

  "That makes two of us," I mumbled before stepping around him. "I thought more of you, too, Trig."

  His hand snaked out, quicker than lightning, fingers curling around my wrist.

  "Do not walk away from me," he warned, pulling me back to him. "That is not how this is going to go." His chest was rising and falling quicker. "You fucked up today, Ashton." He pulled me so close to him that I could feel the tremor rolling through him. "Again." His eyes were almost black and blazing with heat. "You made life very difficult for me." He swallowed hard. "And you do not get to play the wounded princess role with me."

  He was irritated.

  He couldn't read me.

  That made two of us.

  I didn't know myself in this moment.

  This weak, worn down version of me was foreign to the both of us.

  His hand tightened on my wrist. "You do not fall apart," he growled, and there was an edge to his tone. "You are a soldier."

  "I don't think I am," I sniffled. "Not anymore."

  "I know you are," he corrected, eyes burning holes in mine. "Change is coming. Sooner than I predicted, and you –" he paused to tip my chin up, forcing me to look at him, "you will lick your wounds. You will rest and repair. Then you will rise back up like the soldier you are and fight with me!"

  "No, I won't." I shook my head, desolate. "So, you can save yourself a whole heap of trouble and send me back to your father," I added, feeling lifeless. "Or follow through on your promise and kill me." I looked him right in the eyes and gave him my truth. "Either way, I really don’t care anymore."

  "You do care," he bit out, pulling me flush against his big body.

  "No." I laughed humorlessly. "I really don’t."

  "This is what you have always wanted." He gestured around us. "You wanted to be free from him. I am giving that to you."

  "I want a bird," I mumbled, checking out on him. On life.

  "Stop with the damn bird!" Trigger snarled, clearly furious with me. "You are the bird," he added. "A fucking cuckoo bird."

  "And the whore. I want her, too," I added, thinking back to the girl. "I owe her a favor."

  Trig balked. "What?"

  "The whore Patrice fucked," I explained, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice now. "Tanya with the red hair." I shrugged weakly. "I think we could be friends."

  He gaped at me. "You are crazy."

  Enemies, lovers, kings and clowns, in the end, they all fall down…

  Was this what being in shock felt like?

  Was that what was happening to me?

  "Can I have a bird and the whore?"

  Trig narrowed his eyes. "No. You can have power and freedom because you want power and freedom!"

  I stared blankly back at him. "Not anymore."

  He balked in disbelief at my response. "Since when?"

  "What do you care? You don’t even want me," I strangled out, feeling tears well up. "Y
ou hate me. You blame me for her death. You left me with those monsters. Two years. All by myself. The things they –" I shook my head and blew out a ragged, tortured breath. "You punished me for something I'm not even sure I caused." A tear trickled down my cheek. "I'm ruined now. My body. My mind. My heart. My hope. My future. I have nothing left. No family. Nothing." Sniffing, I exhaled brokenly. "What the hell have I got left to fight for?"

  He shook his head, but didn’t deny any of it.

  "You will stay with me," he finally said, tone harsh and full of grit, his words a warning. "Because you are mine."

  "But you don’t –"

  "Because you are mine," he repeated passionately. "I claimed you. I am responsible for you. It does not matter what I want or what you want. We are here. Together." Agitated, he ran a hand through his black hair. "We will make the best of a bad situation."

  "Wow," I whispered, pressing a hand to my chest, knowing that no amount of pressure could stop the aching inside. "How does it feel, Trig?"

  He frowned, brows knitting together in confusion.

  "To kill with words instead of bullets."

  "It is not my intention to hurt you," he replied, sounding pained. "I do not wish to cause you pain."

  "Then take it away," I begged.

  His eyes pleaded with me. "How?"

  "Forgive me," I whimpered.

  He didn’t need to say it for me to see the truth in his storm-filled eyes.

  It was right there for me to see.

  It wasn't that he wouldn't forgive me.

  He couldn't.

  Taking me by the hand, he tugged me down the hallway towards the staircase. "I will fix you," he declared hoarsely, stopping at the bottom of father's impressive staircase to sweep me into his arms. "I will put you back together again."

  19

  Cold to the bone, I remained silent in Trigger's arms as he carried me upstairs to the quarters that housed my childhood bedroom. Waiting just inside the door was a doctor, ready to tend to the damage Fabio and his men had caused to my body.

  My flesh was covered in cuts and welts.

  "Fix her!" Trigger commanded the moment he sat me down on the couch in the living area of my former quarters. "Everywhere."

  "Hello to you, too," the doctor began to say, but quickly snapped his mouth shut when he registered his livid expression. "Okay, miss," he coaxed, moving towards me with a large black case in hand. "We will make you all better again."

  Like a robot, I allowed the doctor to treat me, not caring about a single word that came out of his mouth as he tried to put me at ease.

  Not caring about the look of concern in Trigger's eyes every time he stopped pacing to look at me.

  Not caring that I was stripped naked for another man to examine my body from head to toe.

  Not caring about the cream and gauze he pressed to my wounds.

  I didn’t put up a fight when I was handed a colorful concoction of pills to take.

  I simply swallowed them.

  Because it didn’t matter to me anymore.

  Because I was done.

  "Espera, espera, espera!" Trigger commanded when the doctor moved towards me with a syringe. "Wait!"

  Up until now, he had dutifully explained everything he was doing to my body as he treated me, but I hadn't heard a word of it.

  "I said hold the fuck up." Closing the space between us, Trig eyed the syringe in his hand with mistrust. "What is that for?"

  "Depo shot," the doctor explained, staring in confusion at Trigger. "Standard protocol."

  "Depo?" Trig's brows knitted tightly together. "I do not understand that word."

  "Birth control," the doctor reeled off before turning his attention back to me, syringe in hand. "The standard shot for your father's girls." With gentle hands, the doctor nudged me onto my side, hand moving to my butt. "Just relax, miss. You'll feel a small pinch –"

  The sound of a gun cocking filled the air. "Stick her with that needle and I will shoot your cock off."

  Startled, the doctor quickly tossed the syringe aside and held his hands up. "I apologize, Mr. Laperro," he hurried to say. "I presumed since she was new that you would need to have her taken care of."

  "She is not a whore," Trigger spat, looking truly livid. "I do not keep whores."

  "Of course you don’t," the doctor quickly agreed. "I'm very sorry for the misunderstanding."

  "You do not put that in her body without permission," Trig continued, gun still aimed at the doctor. "Not ever."

  "Okay." The doctor swallowed deeply. "Would you like me to administer her with the –"

  "Not me!" Trig roared, eyes bulging. "Her!"

  The doctor gaped at him. "I don’t understand."

  "It is quite simple, doctor. If you wish to stick a needle in my body, you ask me." He narrowed his eyes. "If you wish to stick a needle in her body, you ask her."

  "Miss –"

  "Ashton!"

  "Ashton," the doctor quickly amended, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "Would you like for me to administer you with the Depo-Provera shot? It's a form of birth control that will prevent pregnancy for three months."

  "I probably shouldn’t," I replied numbly, pulling myself into a sitting position.

  "No?" The doctor's fluffy white brows rose in surprise. "I can assure you that it is very safe and effective."

  I shook my head. "No thank you."

  At a loss, the doctor turned to look at Trigger, who did not look happy with me.

  His nostrils were flaring, jaw tight, and he looked like he wanted to kill me, but he offered a clipped nod. "Her choice."

  Whoa, he just backed down, Ashton.

  Maybe the old Trig is still inside of him after all.

  "It's just that I'm already pregnant, doctor, so it would be a waste of a shot," I found myself needing to explain, as I folded my hands on my lap. Looking to Trig, I asked, "Can I have a bird now?"

  He froze on the spot. "What?"

  "A bird." Dropping my gaze to my bare thighs, I walked my fingers up and down my flesh, smiling when goose pimples appeared. "I hope Peter's cage is still here."

  "Los cojones!" Trigger barked. "Stop with the mind games, corderito. Now!"

  "Pregnant?" the doctor asked in a level tone.

  "She is not pregnant," Trig spat, turning his attention to the doctor. "I have been taking care of it." Releasing a furious snarl, he paced the room. "Her mind is slipping on her."

  "Little pills," I mused, mind swirling. "Every day." A giggle escaped me. "But I'm far too clever for the wolf."

  Clearing his throat, the doctor turned back to me. This time he spoke in a much softer tone. "Do you remember the date of your last period?"

  "Mmm-hmm." Nodding, I continued to walk my fingers over my flesh. "It finished ten days before my initiation." I released a heavy sigh. "Fabio needed me to ovulate for Jethro." I peeked up at the doctor and smiled. "I did good, huh?"

  "Are you fucking with me?" Trig roared. "Bastardo!"

  "According to the code, it's a good omen for a whore to conceive on her initiation," I continued with a small shrug. "If a boy is conceived through initiation, he will rank above the others. It is extremely rare, but it is said that boy will become the rightful heir to the family legacy. Fabio was conceived through his birth whore's initiation." I smiled proudly. "And so was Trig –"

  "But you did not!" Trig choked out, shaking now. "She did not conceive a monster for him to groom," he told the doctor. "I made sure of it."

  "Nope," I whispered. "He's wrong again. I got sick and threw up."

  "¡Usted debe estar bromeando!" Trig paled and staggered back. "And you did not tell me?"

  "I stabbed you. I thought you were pissed off." I shrugged again. "My bad."

  "And the birth control pill? The one you are supposed to take every day?"

  I shrugged. "Oops."

  "Jesus Christ, Ashton!" He yanked on the ends of his hair. "No puedo creer esto!"

  "It is in poor taste to take
the lord's name in vain, Salvatore," I reminded him.

  Trig visibly flinched at my words.

  "And when was your…initiation?" the doctor asked kindly.

  "Um…" Glancing up at the ceiling, I pondered the question. "Forever ago."

  "Okay." With a heavy sigh, the doctor retrieved a rectangular box from his bag and placed it on my lap. "I'll need you to –"

  "Get out," Trig ordered, cutting him off. "We do not require your services any longer."

  "Mr. Laperro, I strongly urge you to –"

  "I said get out!" Trig roared, pointing a finger at the door. "Now, dammit!"

  Hurrying to his feet, the doctor snatched his bag up and hurried for the door.

  He no sooner had the door open when a thundering bang filled my ears.

  Stunned, I watched as his lifeless body crumpled to the floor.

  A steady flow of red blood trickled from the back of his skull.

  "I think you killed the doctor, Trig," I pointed out, gaze flicking between the body and the beast standing with the gun. "Bad wolf. "

  "Well, I could hardly let him leave, could I?" Trig snapped, shoving his gun back into his holster. "He would have gone straight to Fabio and told him what you are housing inside of your body."

  "Housing?" I scrunched my nose up at that.

  "And if you think that monster caged you these past nine years, just wait until he finds out what we made!" He released a frustrated growl. "You will never be free now! He will take it from you." Shaking his head, he paced the room, beyond livid. "Dammit, corderito, what the fuck have you done?" Another furious roar escaped him. "Do you have any idea what this means for you?"

  "For us."

  "No." He shook his head, refuting my words. "I fixed this. You cursed us!"

  Grabbing both the test and my arm, he hauled me to my feet and dragged me into the bathroom.

  Marching me over to the toilet bowl, he pushed me down on the seat and ripped at the package.

  "Pray, corderito," he snarled, ripping and biting at the plastic encasing the rectangular box. "Fucking pray that you are mistaken." Tearing the plastic stick from the box, he shoved it into my hand and glared at me. "Because if you are not, I will kill it myself."

  "Trig," I strangled out, heart hammering violently. "How can you –"