The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity Book 2)

by Courtney Lane

  “I allowed the bad in because you showed me the good. Since we came back to D.C. you haven’t been any semblance of the man who swore to protect me and give me what I needed. All you’ve done is break every single promise you made to me. I was so stupid. I thought there was kindness and decency under the anger and dirt. I blamed your past for making you who you were. I thought that maybe, somewhere deep down, there was a good man. I was wrong. So wrong.”

  “There it is again.” He unwound the bandages from his hands as he walked over to me. Shaking his head with contemptuous grin, he tsked me. “The look again.”

  “What look?”

  “You can’t look at me that way, Keaton. Like you think you can leave me. I am where you begin and end. Your messiah. Your mentor. Your creator. Your god. You will be the wife I want you to be and death is the only thing standing between me and my goals.”

  I looked at the path my mother left, torn between outrage and befuddlement. His way of trying to sway me into thinking and believing his viewpoint of the world used to be subtle; here it was blindingly transparent, making me realize the severity of Noah’s unhinged and demented mind. There wasn’t a stitch of goodness to the man—there never was. “I…defended you. I…fought for you and told everyone they were wrong about you. You’ve made me look like an idiot.”

  He grabbed my neck strongly and slid his hands up to clasp my face. “You are a fucking idiot, Keaton. I told you that nothing I tell you is the truth. I repeatedly warned you that nothing I showed you at Rebirth was real. But you still believed all the lies.”

  “I get it now,” I surmised, my voice airy and light. “Your problem, Noah? I know what it is. You can’t survive in this world because you feel powerless. You used me to get back the power you lost. You…always painted Shiloh as the narcissistic one—the one who had all the attention and believed himself to be a god. But all you’ve done since I’ve been with you, Noah, is prove that the role you tried to cast off on your brother was really a role that fit you. If I ever believed a word you’ve ever said to me…” I looked down at my hands as the tears of anger streamed down my face. “If you wanted someone to easily go along with everything you had planned because she was blind, you should’ve made me fall in love with you. Because I never did. And at this point, I’m thanking God that I never did.”

  There was an audible pause. The features in his face firmed and his lip twitched into a severe frown. “Do you want a brownie for almost sounding convincing in saying that to me? If it isn’t love that’s kept you with me, then you really are one fucked-up piece of work.”

  “If that’s what I am, what are you? Because you are much worse. Worse than Gregory. Worse than any evil I have ever faced. I’m done. Completely done.”

  He pulled me toward him, yanked up my skirt, and proceeded to squeeze the part of me that was still healing until I cried out. “You haven’t begun to experience your limit yet. I can push and push until you’re nothing, Keaton—until you are whatever and whomever I say you are the moment the words slip past my lips.” He bit into the corner of his crooked smile and brushed the back of his hand down my cheek.

  I pushed, hit, and scratched him. He removed his arms from around me.

  I started to walk away, wiping my tears with the back of my hand as I did.

  “I have another gift for you, Keaton,” he called after my path, holding to more confidence than he should’ve had.

  Pausing at the gate to the elevator, I glanced back at him.

  “With your mother going for the senate, and being the pit bull in a skirt that she is, she’s going to win. I don’t need that kind of attention. We don’t need that kind of attention.” With a skewed grin, he paced around the bag and walked toward the filing cabinet. Pulling out a red folder, he slid it on top and slammed the metal cabinets closed, causing it to rock and shudder. “There is something you might want to see.”

  I stalled, contemplating my options and forgoing stepping right into his trap. The nature I never truly had began to pull me to walk toward the cabinet. The second I opened the folder, I was greeted with an explicit picture of my mother in a precarious position with a man who wasn’t my father.

  I quickly slammed the folder closed. “When?”

  “Your disappearance wrecked havoc on your parents’ relationship. Instead of seeking solace with one another and viewing the world with the new eyes I provided them with, they became who they really were. Cheaters. Liars. Drunks. Do you think your father knows and it’s the reason he’s begun to drink so heavily? It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “What are you going to do with this?”

  He leaned against the wall and stared into the invisible oblivion. “It’s funny how people somehow always mark their own graves.” A smile swarmed slowly across his lips and it was full of enough evil intent to break me further. “I’m far from petty, princess, but right is right and wrong is wrong. With you around, it’s easier to blur those lines. I think you want to keep my vision foggy, don’t you?” Moving only his eyes, he regarded me. “I think you have only one question to answer. Can you be selfish, Keaton? Can you ruin your parents’ lives, put your friends in danger, because you want to run away from your destiny?”

  Sucking back a howling sob, I held the back of my hand to my quavering lips.

  Broadening his grin, he moved closer to me and tried to touch me. When I balked, he warned me silently. I begrudgingly allowed him to wrap his arms around me and hold me in a way that conveyed a stream of false truths about our relationship.

  “What do you suppose happens now?” He took my left hand and kissed the diamond ring he placed on my finger. “Repeat it to me.”

  “P-pain is the pleasure of love…and love is the pain of pleasure.”

  “I’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye to your mother, and then, I want you back up here and bent over the sawhorse.”

  My limbs were numb and my feet were weighted bricks when I approached my mother downstairs. She’d already packed most of my things and was prepared to throw my makeup into a small vinyl pouch.

  “I can’t go with you.” My words were barely audible and held little conviction.

  “Keaton?” Shock and amazement flooded my mother’s face. Her plump lips, stained with red lipstick curled up in disgust. “What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing.” I rummaged my brain for the only thing I could say, the only lie I could state to make her believe my reasons for remaining with a monster. “I…love him, and I’m going to stay.”

  She slammed the pouch down on the table and threw her hands on her hips, slanting her light brown eyes at me. “You most certainly do not. What did he say to you to make you lie to me?”

  “We spoke about what was best for me,” I explained, “and the life you want for me…it isn’t what I want nor what I need. Noah gives me everything I need…” My voice faded, unable to rise in volume and continue to hold a discernible level.

  She staggered slightly as she walked up to me. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. You’ve never been this distant with us. You’ve never lied to us so much before. You knew the nature of this man and never revealed it to me or your father. This isn’t the first time, but the second time you’ve misled us. I don’t understand. What’s going on with you?”

  I had broken her heart enough and couldn't tell her the real reason I decided to remain with Noah. I wouldn’t flood her with the embarrassment she would’ve felt, knowing I had full knowledge of her indiscretions. Preparing to excuse my actions with misdirection, I closed my eyes, and opened them to rest on her. “You put me into a mold. I could never break out of it. I lied to you to make sure I remained the daughter you wanted me to be.”

  She stood silently staring at me for a while. “All I’ve ever wanted was the best for you.”

  “All you’ve ever wanted for me was this perfect unobtainable life. I’m imperfect. I make mistakes. I say and do idiotic things. If I told you, I knew you’d be disappointed in
me. I couldn’t…stand it if you were. Can you understand why I felt like I could never really talk to you?”

  “I’m your mother, if you can’t talk to me, who else can you speak to? We are supposed to protect you. You’ve made horrible, life-altering, life-threatening decisions. If you had trusted us—”

  Closing my eyes, I sighed. “Please, just leave.”

  “Keaton, you can’t be serious.”

  I backed away from her and held up my hands. “You can’t force me to leave him. Don’t try.”

  “Keaton—”

  “Leave.” I raised my voice at her and immediately felt awful about it afterward.

  Moisture filled her eyes and with reluctance, she left.

  DUTIFUL IN MY COMPLIANCE, I stripped off my clothes as I stood before the leather bound high-standing bench. Noah kept his attention split between preparing his latest torture device and taking pleasure in viewing the marks he’d left as his permanent signatures on my body. Meticulous in his steps, he unraveled the ends of the whip and tied the small ends to spiral shank nails. He had secured nine nails to each of the fraying strands with secure knots.

  “Bend over, princess,” he ordered with a soft command and set his gaze on me, “and remain that way until I’m done with you.”

  Trembling, I bent over the bench, holding tightly to the leather binding on the seat.

  His steps were hard and heavy as he rounded my position.

  I kept my spine straight and prepared for the worst.

  There was no preparation to be had. The whip slashed my skin, ripping and tearing it.

  I wasn’t given a second to recover; the hits came faster, mere split seconds barely served as breaks between each strike. I shut my eyes and cried. I could feel the blood pool on my back and hear the splattering of the crimson fluid onto the floor. I wailed and fell from the sawhorse, unable to take much more.

  His steps were headache-inducing, pounding hard on the bare floor. Clutching my hair, he pulled my head back. Every one of the cuts with my spine stretched rendering me inconsolable. “Please…no more.” Through the clouds of my tears, I could see the insidious curl at the corner of his mouth.

  Leaning forward, he kissed the tears streaming down my cheeks. He picked me up, swinging me over his shoulder.

  He transported me downstairs and dropped me onto our bed. I remained the way he left me, unable to move much less seek any semblance of modesty.

  The water rushed in the bathtub, giving me a small minor window to soothe myself.

  It didn’t last very long.

  Noah returned to me. Gently cradling me in his arms, he carried me to the bathroom.

  I relaxed—a little—when I saw the warm, inviting, and milky white water filling the bath.

  As he gently lowered me down, my wounds immediately reacted to the water. The stinging sensation tricked me into thinking the bath was filled with acid. I began to flail splashing water around and partially into my eye, burning it.

  He pressed both hands down on my torso and forced me to still. “The more you struggle the more it will burn, and the longer you will remain in the salt water.” His instructions were clinical in their coldness.

  “W-what d-do you want from me? I-I th-thought I g-gave you what you w-wanted.”

  “You haven’t begun to give me what I want. Recite what you’ve forgotten, princess.”

  The words quivered from my mouth as I said what he wanted to hear over and over again as though my life depended on it, hoping if I said it enough times, he’d release me. Pain is the pleasure of love, and love is the pain of pleasure.

  “Are you ready for the pleasure?” His lips touched my ear. His voice was gentle and teetered on erotic. “Tonight, I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

  Taking care with my body, he picked me up from the water and transported me to the bed. I landed softly against the mattress. Spreading my legs, he slipped down, placing gentle kisses down my abdomen. My body was riddled with agony; the slightest touch brought about an excruciating sensation. The pangs superseded any ability to have an orgasm. Whether he tasted me, or cradled me in his arms, and plunged into me—carefully, slowly, adoringly—there was no pleasure to be had.

  Hovering over me, he watched me as a creeping look of satisfaction displayed itself across his face. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him as the tears steadily streamed down my cheeks. “I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you, and it’s why I hurt you so much.” He clasped his hand to my neck with hardly any pressure and pressed his lips to mine. “Circumstances have changed. My needs have changed. I need you to love me as much as I love you. No one ever has. I need you to love me, and I need you to become my wife.”

  I was thrust immediately from one emotion to the next. I couldn’t dissect what I felt; I didn’t want to.

  Stark naked, he pulled out of me and lifted off the bed, disappearing for a while. When he returned, he held two white pills in his hand and a glass of water in the other. Lifting my head through my winces, he placed the pills one by one into my open mouth and tipped the glass of water to my lips. He stared at me as I glared at him. His lips moved as though he had something to say but couldn’t find the right words to verbalize it.

  On the brink of his phone ringing, he released me and reached across the bed to grab his phone. He became visibly agitated over whatever he saw.

  Preparing to leave, he left me with his last words of the night before he disappeared, “There are only so many times you can pretend to be something you’re not before the real you cracks through. You need this, princess, as much as I need it. You breathe for me like I breathe for you. Stop holding your breath, thinking you will survive without me.” He delayed and dropped his chin. His eyes were shielded by his dark, thick eyelashes. His words were barely heard, “The devil’s whispers are quieter when I’m with you.”

  “I had to lose everything to gain something more valuable.”

  -THE SECT

  The quiet. The stillness. Only the sounds of my strained breaths filled the grand space. I was thankful Noah left in such a haste, he’d forgotten to take my phone from me.

  I was left alone to deal with what I no longer could. How stupid was it to think we could somehow survive in the real world? How further inane was it to think that Noah had a good side? Noah made me into the woman he needed, but when the woman I used to be began to return and wanted different things, he tried to suppress her.

  Once I regained slight mobility without fending off the urge to scream, I called Nathan. The natural expansion of my back, to breathe normally, and any subtle movement brought on a debilitating ache. The salt-water bath remained in my wounds, throbbing and sending signals of anguish to my nerves.

  THE GRIND OF THE elevator resounded. I relaxed as well as I could. I only wanted a reprieve, and Nathan promised he would bring me enough medication to numb me to sleep. The footsteps emanating from the path away from the elevator shaft weren’t of one man, they sounded as if they were a dozen.

  Mortified, I sobbed and tried to reach my phone, but it was beyond the reach of my short span. I began to scream aimlessly for help.

  “Keaton,” a familiar and smooth voice wrapped me in its silk and lulled me into quieting down.

  “B-Braedan?” My voice barely traveled. “Oh, God. No.” I squinted my eyes shut, hoping to be magically transported out of my embarrassment.

  “Shh,” he soothed me. He pulled the sheet up my naked body, partially covering my nudeness, leaving my scarred back exposed. I was thankful that he did. The soft material would’ve felt like a scouring pad against my wounds. “May I sit?”

  My body shook with sobs and the anguish rifling through my body brought about more cries.

  “I know you called Nathan to help you,” Braedan told me, “but unfortunately I was the only one who could. Noah…has sent packages to all your friends. Even if they weren’t deathly afraid to help you directly—the security downstairs would’ve been difficult for them to g
et past. It’s the reason I was contacted. I have a…history with Lem and was able to get through. With me are a doctor and a few individuals from my private security team.”

  More footsteps were heard. A gray-haired man in an expensive suit bent down on the side of the bed I faced.

  I closed my eyes and buried my face into my pillow. “I can’t believe Nathan—”

  A soft hand reached up and caressed my wrist. The scent of his peppered citron cologne calmed me. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was. Braedan’s gentle touch was akin to his voice. When I opened my fingers, he slid his fingers into the spaces and closed his fist around my hand.

  I never thought I’d feel the sensation again. I was sure my body had been permanently shut down and would never experience anything good again. But with Braedan, it was so strong it nearly overcame the torturous spasms. It was tender and disclosed a silent promise of safety, created a sense of serenity from within. Keeping my eyes closed, I reveled in it. His touch healed me at the surface, making the intense discomfort a little less by helping me to see the things Noah tried to destroy—my happier memories.

  He moved my other hand, directing my fingers to feel something on my pillow. My phone. “Who do you want me to call?”

  “It’s already been done,” Braedan replied, the smoothness in the tonality of his voice amplified.

  “Braedan,” my mother’s desperation was palpable through the speaker of the phone.

  “I’m here, Mrs. Mara,” Braedan replied.

  “Thank God. Tell me you have her.”

  “I can confirm that I am with Keaton.” Braedan remained still at my side. “She’s understandably scared. Can you say something to alleviate her fears?”

  “Keaton?” my mother called out, fighting through her sobs. “It’s okay. Your friends and people who care about you are all here with me. We called Braedan because no one was able to get to you, and he promised me he could. The man is a godsend… We’re going to get you out of there and back home.”