The Bastard Prince (Crellids Book 1)

by Chloe Walsh

  "Enjoying the show?" I spat, glaring at Fabio's oldest son. "I thought you were supposed to be the brother with honor?"

  Ignoring my taunts, Anton checked the time on his watch before resuming his post of observing.

  Up until tonight, Fabio's older son had ignored me entirely, accepting of the fact that I was promised to Trigger. He had never caused me harm in all of the years I had been at the estate. He had never leered at me, he still wasn’t leering tonight, but he wasn’t helping me either.

  Jethro was a coward. Vasily, before his untimely death at the hands of Trigger, had been utter scum. Yegor was his mirror image in both looks and temperament.

  In this moment, I decided that I hated Anton the most for being a bystander.

  "Why are you doing this?" I demanded, voice cracking as a sob broke through. "Jet, I'm your friend!"

  "Just tell them what you know about Trigger and they'll leave you alone," Jet pleaded, looking genuinely torn. "Please, Ash, just give Yegor the information he wants –"

  "Fuck you all!" I screamed, thrashing violently on the mattress. "I'd rather die than betray my king!"

  "She's as twisted in the head as he is," Yegor said to one of his heavies. "Let's see how far her loyalty stretches when the wolf turns on his lamb." Chuckling darkly, he reached into his jeans pocket and retrieved a small plastic baggy with white powder. Mixing the powder with the tumbler of whiskey on the nightstand, he came towards me. "Open wide," he taunted. "It's kitty time…"

  My world was falling apart and the memories of that night, along with Trigger's refusal to back down, were the final nail in the coffin for me.

  I couldn’t take it.

  I honest to god couldn’t take another second of this painful and fucked up life I'd been dealt.

  I only had myself to blame.

  My heart had no right to love him, not when he never earned it.

  Silly little lamb…

  He was never going to stop blaming me for that night.

  He would never forgive me.

  I would never be free.

  He was going to make me get rid of our baby.

  It was the final straw.

  Numb, I climbed the staircase, refusing to think about anything.

  My thoughts were treacherous and my mind couldn’t be trusted.

  That wouldn't matter soon.

  None of it would.

  Just let go, Ashton.

  Break your own chains.

  Free yourself.

  Ignoring every stationed soldier that I passed on my way to my quarters, I closed my bedroom door behind me and took a moment to soak in the silence.

  Thud, thud, thud.

  My heart beat violently in protest, unwilling to accept the fate my broken mind had decided.

  In a sick way, I was glad to be back in this house. It seemed fitting to end my life in the home where it had started.

  It won't be hard.

  Just give in to the pain.

  You'll be okay.

  You won't feel a thing.

  Letting my dressing gown fall from my shoulders, I moved straight for the window. With shaky hands, I pushed it open and hoisted my body onto the sill.

  Breathing in the night air as it whipped against my face, I took a tentative step forward, bare feet finding purchase on the outside ledge.

  This is on your own terms.

  No more orders.

  No more pain.

  "Oh fuck," a familiar voice called out from the courtyard beneath me. "She's gonna jump!"

  Yes.

  Yes, I am.

  "Get help," another voice commanded. "Get the boss man now, dammit!"

  "Climb back in the window!"

  "Get back inside!"

  A shaky breath escaped my trembling lips and I lowered my hands to rest on my naked stomach.

  Together.

  No more men of The Order.

  No more Crellids.

  "We'll be together," I whispered, absorbing the twisted emotions rushing through my heart. "I promise."

  "Don’t do this!"

  "Don’t jump!"

  Allowing my eyelids to flutter shut, I raised my arms up to the sky and smiled.

  Freedom.

  It was so close, I could taste it.

  And then I jumped.

  23

  My descent to freedom was a short-lived experience.

  Moments after I executed my plan and threw myself from my bedroom window, I was thwarted by the hand firmly clamped around my wrist.

  "Corderito!"

  Aw shit.

  Looking wholly enraged, Trigger leaned out of the window, his upper body dangling from the ledge, as he held me suspended in mid-air.

  "Joder mi vida!"

  Keeping a death grip on my wrist, he released a shuddering breath. "The fuck are you trying to do?" His voice was strained and laced with panic. His bewildered eyes searched my face for an answer he wouldn’t find.

  "I don't want to be here anymore," I told him, surprising us both with how calm I sounded considering I was dangling eighty feet in the air with nothing but hard concrete and certain death waiting below. "Let me go, Trig."

  "Let you go?" He glared down at me, expression murderous. "Are you fucking crazy?"

  Yes.

  "You do not get to do this," he snarled, tightening his hold on my wrist. "You do not get to leave me."

  Then don't make me.

  "Hold onto me, mami. I will pull you back up –"

  "I'm so over this, Trigger." A weary sigh escaped me. "Just let me go."

  "You are so over this? Well, I am not so over this, Ashton," came his furious response as he pulled me back up to him. "I will never be over this. I will never be over you!" he continued to rant, hooking his free arm around my waist and dragging me onto the ledge. "Now, get your ass back inside this window, you crazy bitch, before I lose my fucking mind!"

  When he dragged me back through the window, we both toppled onto the bedroom floor.

  "You hurt my wrist," I said, breathing hard and fast, as I sagged against the wall at my back and rubbed my wrist.

  "Good!" Trig panted, pulling himself up to lean against the foot of my bed, facing me. "I hope it fucking hurts as much as the pain in my chest!" He reached up and rubbed the skin covering his heart for good measure. "Bad lamb." Breathing hard, he shook his head and raked his gaze over me. "Crazy fucking lamb."

  "I tried to tell you," I whispered. "But you wouldn’t hear me."

  His eyes bulged in his head. "You did that because you didn’t get your way?"

  "I want to keep our baby," I bit out, shivering. "I will keep our baby, Trigger, and if you take him from me, I will follow him."

  "You are not serious," he deadpanned. "You put me through that for a child that will never be yours to keep?"

  When I didn’t deny it, Trigger released a furious snarl.

  "You are a spoiled, selfish woman!" he roared. "You think of no one but yourself. You are a grown woman and you act like a reckless child. You need to grow the hell up –"

  "If you think that little of me, then why didn’t you just let me go!" I screamed, cheeks flushed.

  "Because I love you, woman!" he roared back, his face taking on a dark shade of red. "If I could let you go, don’t you think I would have done it by now?"

  He loves you, Ashton.

  Trigger still loves you.

  "Trig…"

  "Do you know why I stayed?" he asked then, breathing hard and fast. "In the compound all those years while you were growing up? I could have left a thousand times, but I didn’t. It was because of you. I stayed for you. I killed for you. I became Fabio's bastard prince for you. To keep you alive." His eyes blazed with heat as he spoke. "I did not do all of that for you to throw a tantrum and fling yourself out of a fucking window! I did not sacrifice my life for you to end yours!"

  Well shit, when he put it that way…

  "Trig –"

  "You think I do not want a family of my own? Someone
to love me? Someone to care for after a lifetime of suffering?" He glared at me; his eyes a mix of love and hate. "You think I want to force your hand?" He shook his head. "This is killing me, corderito. Killing. Me."

  "I'm sorry, Trig," the words were barely more than a breathless whisper, but I meant them down to my bones. "I'm sorry." A lone tear trickled down my cheek. "I just…I can't do it." Sniffling, I wiped my cheek and begged, "Please let me keep it. We can figure it out. I know we can."

  Trigger was silent for so long that I honestly didn’t think he was going to answer me.

  But then he spoke.

  "I have the misfortune of being born from hatred and violence. My birth is a representation of how my father defiled my mother's body. My presence in this world is a direct result of my mother's humiliation and torture. Her slow and painful death at the hands of the man who raped her and forced her to bear his son. Me." A shudder ran through him before he finally said, "I will not force you into anything, corderito. The decision is yours to make. Keep it if you must."

  Hope flickered to life inside of me. "Really?"

  Trigger nodded stiffly. "If the price of keeping you alive is the child that I put in your womb, then I will pay it." Hard as stone, he climbed to his feet. "But remember that my mother's fate will become your fate, and that baby you already cherish so much will become nothing more than my father's puppet."

  24

  Many more weeks passed by without another attack on my father's estate. Fabio's lack of action was alarming. It let me know in no uncertain terms that this was his version of the calm before the storm. His silence was crippling, and I knew in my heart that when his storm cloud finally rolled in, he would leave nothing but devastation in his wake.

  As for Trigger? Well, he had closed himself off entirely from me. He was furious with me for forcing his hand and he was making sure that I knew it. The night he agreed to my terms, he had hit the bottle and continued to drink for several days after that.

  His disdain was heady, and his lack of interest in my changing body spoke volumes.

  He told me that he loved me that one time and I hadn't heard it since. In fact, we barely spoke at all.

  He refused to acknowledge the swell of my stomach or the life we had created together that was steadily growing inside of my womb, and was noticeably absent whenever the doctor visited the estate.

  At night, he continued to visit me, because feuding or not, he still craved my flesh and I still craved the feel of him between my thighs. Every night, he would fuck me into submission before disappearing with the early morning sunlight, not to be seen until the sun set in the sky again.

  He didn't want me to have this baby, and even though he wasn't actively trying to change my mind anymore, he made his feelings clear in his own way.

  In other words, I got to keep my baby, but the price I paid was Trigger – oh, and metal bars on my window.

  I didn’t care about being caged anymore. They could chain me up and I would gladly comply if it meant that I could continue with my pregnancy.

  I had become an orphan at the age of ten, and didn’t have a single family member left in the world. Now, the prospect of having someone who was my own flesh and blood was thrilling. I could do this. I might be bad at it, but I was more than willing to give it my best shot. I needed the hope that came with new life.

  In time, Trigger would come around.

  He had to.

  Eventually.

  I hoped.

  Four months into my pregnancy, I was really starting to show. My once flat stomach had morphed into a firm, round bump. My hips had widened, my breasts were swollen, but it was my mind that had taken on the biggest transformation.

  I felt different now.

  Less reckless.

  Less impulsive.

  Now that I had something to lose, I found myself taking the time to think things through without jumping in head first.

  I was growing up, I realized, and it was weirdly liberating.

  Wandering around the grounds of the compound with Peter perched on my shoulder and Tanya by my side, I spied my reflection in the window and smirked.

  Oh yeah, I was totally bossing this whole pregnancy gig.

  After spending an ornate amount of time trailing through the grounds with Tanya and Peter, we stopped short in the courtyard where several of the younger guards were combat training.

  Instantly, I sought Trigger out and when my eyes found him, my body went on high-alert, pulse quickening, breathing labored.

  Dressed down in black sweats and a plain white t-shirt, Trigger strolled between units, observing and taking everything in. Stopping every now and again to dole out instructions, he looked every inch the king of the castle.

  The king I knew he was.

  The sun was shining down on him, igniting his deep tan, and making his black hair shine like silk.

  He was everything to me in this moment.

  "Sweet Jesus," Tanya said with a wistful sigh, stirring me from my reverie. "I wonder what it's like to be with a man with so much power…"

  Well that was fun while it lasted.

  I turned to stare at her, expression hard. "Excuse me?"

  "Cocksuckin' Trig," Peter squawked, flapping and bristling on my shoulder. "Sweet Jesus, cocksuckin' Trig!"

  "Shut it, you stupid bird!" Tanya snapped, cheeks flaming the brightest red.

  "Cocksuckin' whore," Peter squawked back, wildly flapping his wings at her. "Cocksuckin' whore."

  "Yes, Peter," I agreed, narrowing my eyes. "Tanya is a whore who needs to remember her place or she'll be back sucking cock before she knows it."

  Her eyes widened. "I didn’t mean anything by that –"

  "I'm done playing with you," I said, tilting my head to one side. "I don’t think I want a whore for a friend anymore." Shaking my head, I clicked my tongue. "I think I prefer the bird."

  "Are you serious?" Her mouth fell open. "Who will help you when the baby comes along?"

  "Why Peter, of course."

  I wasn’t serious.

  Not really…

  Tanya continued to gape at me in horror. "He's a bird."

  "Better a bird that's a bird than a whore in sheep's clothing. Now, come on, Peter," I cooed, turning my back on her. "Let's go take a bath."

  "Take a bath!" Peter squawked happily. "Untrustworthy, cocksuckin' whore!"

  "Exactly," I chuckled approvingly. "You're a wonderful judge of character."

  This was a trick.

  Of that, I was certain.

  Trigger was testing me – testing my loyalty – and expecting me to fail.

  There was no other possible explanation for why Anton Crellid had been granted entry into my father's fortress, never mind my personal living quarters.

  And yet there he was, leaning against my bedroom wall when I stepped out of the bathroom after a long soak in the tub.

  This isn’t Trigger's doing, Ashton.

  Something is off here.

  Something is terribly wrong…

  The moment my gaze landed on his cold, dead eyes, I bolted for the door, sensing a trap, sensing the world of danger, but he was too fast for me.

  Moving like a ninja, Anton lunged forward and intercepted me before I could get more than four feet away.

  Knocking the air from my lungs with the force he ploughed into me, we crashed onto the bed with his big frame on top of me.

  Naked beneath him, my hands immediately moved to my stomach, desperate to protect the unborn life inside of me. Before I could get a word out or scream my lungs out, his hand came down over my mouth.

  "I'm not here to hurt you," came his hushed words, "but if you scream, I won't have a choice."

  His words gave me pause for that.

  He wasn’t here to hurt me?

  Then what the hell did he want?

  Goddammit, why was I so hasty in sending the whore away?

  I could use a bitch right now.

  Sensing my temporary compliance, Anton
began to speak. "Believe it or not, I'm not your enemy, Ashton."

  Yeah fucking right, I told him with my eyes.

  His hand was still clamped firmly over my mouth, but he wasn’t resting his weight on me anymore, which was a small plus.

  "I'm not your enemy, Ashton," he repeated, eyes glued to mine. "I'm your brother."

  25

  This was ludicrous.

  The revelations coming out of Anton's mouth were beyond insane.

  And still, I found myself hanging on his every word.

  "Royce was my father, too," he declared, breathing hard and fast. "I only found out the truth when my mother died. She confessed everything to me on her death bed. I'm not a Crellid, Ashton – I was never a Crellid." Slowly, he removed his hand from my mouth. "I'm a Northwood."

  What.

  The.

  Actual.

  Fuck.

  Breathing ragged, I didn’t scream out or try to attack him.

  I was too goddamn stunned.

  Hovering inches above my naked body, Anton planted both hands on either side of my face and rested his weight on them.

  The fear of being raped wasn't there, though.

  It never had been when it came to Anton.

  And now I knew why.

  It was because he was my brother.

  "Royce was murdered," he continued to say, speaking low and fast. "It wasn't an accident or a drug deal gone wrong. He was set up. He was killed on Fabio's orders by a member of The Order." He shook his head as if his mind was suppressing the thought. "Royce knew it would happen – he knew that Fabio would betray him. He knew there was no way out of this world for him, so he tried to prepare you for what would happen after his death. He tried to get you out, Ashton."

  "How?" I demanded, my words barely more than a trembling whisper. "How did my father know?" I narrowed my eyes in mistrust. "How do you know any of this?"

  "He told me in a letter," he said. "My mother gave it to me hours before her death – along with a secret inheritance, containing enough money to start over." He blew out a shaky breath. "Royce left you a letter, too."