by B. B. Reid
My arms were pulled behind me, and I felt fine leather bind my wrists at the small of my back. My feet were roughly pushed together, and I was tied up with more leather. The cold buckles rested against my heated skin uncomfortably. “Maybe we should use something else to bind her. Or I could use my hand—”
“Use mine.”
It took some effort, but I twisted my head enough to bring him into view. He sat as still as death, and his gaze was as hard as stone. I licked my lips again and swallowed hard. It frightened me that he had so much control. God, why won’t he move?
My silent plea seemed to awaken him. His hands moved, but his gaze never left me. From his lap, they lifted to his waist, and I watched, spellbound by what would come next. The gold buckle released with a click and his strong hand pulled the smooth black leather through the loops until it was free. He then folded the leather half all the while holding my stare. We were alone in this room. Nothing else existed but us, and nothing else mattered but what he’d do next.
I held my breath.
The hand holding the belt lifted and our spell was broken.
He smirked, and I decided there was nothing that could ever make me not hate him. It was hard to believe I once lov—
“Ahhh!” Burning pain bit into the skin of my ass. I cried and fought against my restraints. The gruff sound of someone calling my name could barely be heard over the screaming pain.
“That was a request for your attention.”
I did beg then. “Please let me go.”
“Give me what I want.”
“I don’t have what you want!”
“Then we’ll beat you every day until your answer changes. Do you really expect me to believe you sold power to a pawner?” He nodded to Lucas and the whistle of the belt slicing through the air prepared me in the worst way. My body tensed and I cried into the mattress when it struck.
Fingers threaded through my hair as my head was lifted from the mattress. Bright green eyes stared back at me. “Don’t tense,” Z advised. “It will only hurt worse.”
“Don’t touch me.”
He cocked his head and stared at me in amazement. “With everything that’s going to happen to you… you still want to fight us?” His gaze shifted momentarily and then he focused on me again. “Get ready, sweetheart. Here comes another one.”
My body naturally tensed but then something bizarre happened. Z’s lips touched mine. Softly. His tongue darted out, licking the seam between my lips. I felt his breath shudder just before he took over completely and kissed me. I was stunned that he would make such a bold move but also terrified at how good he tasted.
I realized it was a distraction when the next blow came. I hadn’t fully recovered from the last and the biting pain still proved too much, but at least I had something else to focus on. I cried into his mouth, and he groaned like a starving man.
Why did I enjoy his lips when all he did was hurt me?
He was another criminal.
Another monster.
And he wasn’t Angel.
“Come on, sweetheart. Open up that sweet mouth.” He bit my lip causing me to gasp and then shoved his tongue as far down my throat as possible. His tongue danced with mine, and I became drunk from the taste of him. It took my mind away from the pain.
When he lifted his head, I chased and was mortified when I heard, “So you like to take amorous liberties with your enemies?”
Z moved away leaving Angel in my line of sight once again.
And then the final blow was dealt.
There were no kisses to distract me. I could only concentrate on the pain.
I’d never been beaten—not even by my parents. My mom had preferred talking, and my dad would never raise his hand to me no matter how many times he said I deserved some time over his knee.
“Are you ready to talk?”
My answer was to cry harder. My dignity hadn’t returned after I was untied and no longer bent over. I was still very much naked while they were fully dressed. I wanted revenge. I wanted my pride back. But then I reminded myself, it had been three years since I’d seen Angel Knight, and in just a couple of hours, I’ve been trapped, stripped, and beaten.
Maybe my battle with three powerful men could rest for one night.
“It wasn’t rhetorical, Sprite.”
I kept my gaze on the floor and nodded. His friends moved for the door, and I almost asked them to stay. Angel and I hadn’t been left alone since the summer before my father killed his.
“Where are my clothes?” He still sat upon his throne, making the room seem smaller, and my nakedness more apparent.
“Burned. You won’t be needing them.”
“I don’t have your stupid book so let us go.”
“You expect me to believe that you broke into my father’s home for a watch?”
“I didn’t know it was your father’s,” I lied. “That’s not the same house.”
“Lucky coincidence then,” he snarled sarcastically. “My father had the house built when business picked up.”
“So then you know there’s no way I would know the place I was robbing belonged to your dead father.”
His eyes darkened, and his body tightened. “Careful, Mian.”
As much as I hated him, I regretted my harsh words. I hated any reminder that my mother was dead. I nodded, and he seemed to relax.
“Tell me what you know,” he ordered.
“I don’t know anything.”
“Then tell me what you don’t know.” The bite in his tone sent a warning chill down my spine. It seems Angel’s composure wasn’t as airtight as he wanted me to think.
My control, however, snapped. “What I don’t know is anything about this book you’re after. What I don’t know is why you think I’d want your stupid book. What I don’t know,” I added smoothly this time, “is why you insist on keeping my son and me here. And what I really don’t know is how you’ve managed to become an even bigger ass than when I actually knew you.”
“You never knew me, Sprite.” His whisper almost sounded like regret, but his eyes were angry.
“Apparently, not,” I whispered back. Could he hear my sorrow?
“Why am I supposed to believe you? You broke into a house intending to steal something that didn’t belong to you.”
“Wrong. It belonged to my father which meant it belonged to me.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know whose house it was?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “And I thought you said your father didn’t know about your little job.”
I had been caught in a trap with my back against the corner.
My father never wanted me to be a part of his world, and if mama hadn't died, I never would have. But Angel wouldn’t know that. He was too busy hating my relationship with my father to understand it.
“He didn’t.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’m counting your lies, Mian, and I intend to pay you back for each of them.”
I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think about the repercussions. I just exploded. “I haven’t spoken to my father since he lost his trial!” It wasn’t the truth anymore so I channeled the pain and anger built up over two years. If I wasn’t threatened with homelessness, my father’s abandonment would still be true.
“What?”
I saw the tick in his jaw, and when I couldn’t look at him anymore, I fixed my gaze on the floor and spoke to it. “I have not,” I said slowly, “heard my father’s voice since they dragged him away.”
Even though it wasn’t true I still missed him so much. I knew it was the last thing Angel would want to hear. I just needed him to believe it.
I heard him move and the sound drew my gaze to him. He was sitting back, watching me intently. “Why?” Instead of answering, I tried to figure out why his voice was almost tender. “Mian,” h
e snapped, breaking that tenderness.
“He won’t take my calls or let me visit.”
“Coward.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your father is a coward.”
“He’s trying to protect me. He wants better for me.”
He stared at me for a few seconds. “I knew you were spoiled, but I never pegged you for dumb,” he scoffed. He looked me up and down with his top lip slightly curled. “He’s trying to avoid you, Mian. He wants to cut his losses to make his time easier without having to look in your face every Sunday and feel guilty.”
I charged forward, and I couldn’t fucking stop. The momentum and angry rush of adrenaline powered my swing, and when I felt my palm connect with his face, it felt good. But then I looked into his eyes and knew I had made a mistake.
He was out of his chair with his hand in my hair, yanking me forward until our faces were closer. I cried out when he pulled harder, and I was forced to stand on the tip of my toes. My body was under his control, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Our bodies were flushed.
I could feel his body heat inflaming mine, and the fine fabric of his clothes caressed my naked skin.
“Is this how you want it to be?” he whispered. His voice husky and without even a hint of anger. “I’m willing to hurt you, Mian. Just say the word.”
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Let me go.”
“You hit me. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck you up.”
“You. Beat. Me!”
“I had you spanked—something your father should have done a long time ago.”
“You had no right.”
“You’re in my home. Under my hospitality. I’ll do to you whatever the fuck pleases me.” He released my hair just in time to keep from tearing the strands from its roots but then locked his arms around my body to keep me close. “But I will beat you until you’re unrecognizable, even to yourself, if you ever strike me again.”
I tried to suck in air and failed. He was holding me too tight. “I can’t breathe.”
“Am I understood?” he demanded, and I knew he wouldn’t let up until I yielded.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
I fought to breathe when he finally let me go. My scalp was screaming, and my body was overheated. I pulled myself together and made eye contact. He was watching me strangely.
“What?”
“You’re different.”
“You are, too.” His jaw tightened.
“No, Sprite. You’re just finally noticing me.”
Chapter Twenty
She’s not ready for promises.
MIAN
Seven Years Ago
“Mian?”
Oh, no. Go away. Please go away.
My teary gaze snapped from between my thighs to the door. I forgot to lock it in my hurry, so I pulled my knees tighter against my chest, hid my face between my knees, and braced.
Go away. Please go away.
I could hear his irritation when he snapped my name this time. Angel wouldn’t hesitate to turn this bad dream into a nightmare. I heard the bathroom door open and forced myself not to move when I wanted to just run away. This could not be happening.
“Why are you in here?”
“I just needed to use the bathroom. Jeez.”
“So, why are you crying?” I didn’t need to see his face to know how angry he was.
“I just am. Please go away.”
“Lift your face, tell me the truth, and maybe I’ll go away.” I couldn’t stand the gruffness in his tone. His voice seemed to deepen every day, and I hated how it made me feel. I couldn’t put a name to it. “Now, Mian.”
I lifted my face from between my knees and gritted my teeth. It was too late for me to take it back. Obeying this cocky, rude asshole was like trying to swallow a mouth full of nails.
“Those tears aren’t for nothing.”
“You’re right, but it’s none of your business, so please, please just go away.” His perfect eyebrows pulled down and his lips twisted to the side just before he kicked the door close. “What are you doing?”
“Why are you playing this game with me?” he barked. I flinched and retreated further into the corner. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Why do you care?” I screamed suddenly. I choked back the urge to scream again. When he didn’t respond, I looked away and studied the paint on the walls. Why couldn’t he just go away?
Seconds passed without words spoken. He never made a sound as he moved closer and then crouched to his haunches with his forearms resting on his knees. Muscles that weren’t there or quite so defined last summer caught my attention. How could he be this intimidating at only eighteen?
His face suddenly twisted and I realized too late that his gaze was between my thighs. “Are you hurt?”
Oh, God. He saw .
A whimper escaped me as I closed my legs again to hide the blood smeared between my thighs. My guard must have dropped while I was staring at him. “Please, please just go. I’m not hurt.”
He seemed to mull it over before jumping to his feet. I’d already reburied my head between my knees when the door opened and slammed a second later. The dam burst once it did.
Why couldn’t he have just left me alone? He’s never cared before.
I didn’t know how much time had passed when the door opened again. I couldn’t move. He ignored me this time and walked past me. I should have left so he could have the bathroom, but fear made my legs weak. It had been so quiet so when the sound of water rushing filled the room, I jumped.
Was he seriously going to shower with me sitting here?
I tore my gaze from the floor and watched as he held his long fingers under the water to test the temperature. When he was satisfied, he poured what looked like salt and smelled sweet from a dark blue and white bag. He then reached inside the large paper bag at his feet and pulled out a small bottle before pouring from the bottle.
He moved from the running water when bubbles started to form and opened the linen closet. After pulling out a thick, white towel, he walked past me again and bent to grab the bag. I almost swallowed my tongue when he turned and caught me staring. The butterflies in my stomach intensified. The only time I ever felt like this was when I had my first crush, only this felt more intense. More real.
Was it possible to have a crush on someone seven years older?
“Did you hear me?” His voice brought me back to awareness.
“What? Huh?”
“I said the water shouldn’t be too hot.”
“It’s for me?”
His face remained expressionless as he answered without emotion, “It’s not for me.”
“Oh.” I didn’t move from my spot in the corner. Instead, I tightened my arms around my legs. I couldn’t move with him in here anyway. He’d seen enough to disgust him. I was scared and mortified when I used the bathroom and discovered the blood in my panties. I panicked and ripped them off, and when I touched myself, I realized what was happening. I had no idea what to do and no one to turn to so I balled myself in the corner and cried.
He dropped to his haunches in front of me and reached into the paper bag and pulled out a box. “Know how to use these?” My eyes bucked, and I shook my head. Angel holding a box of tampons was not something I ever expected to see. The blue and orange box looked out of place in his hand. It disappeared back into the bag, and then he pulled out a package of pads.
Kill. Me.
He frowned as he ripped open the packaging before pulling out a folded square wrapped in pink paper. “I was told these are easier to use.”
“Who told you that?” I blurted. I couldn’t believe he’d gotten them much less discussed the advantages of feminine products.
Oh, God. Had he cornered some poo
r, unsuspecting woman in a store for help?
“Trinity.”
His answer brought my musings to a screeching halt. I watched as he ripped open the pink paper and unfolded the sanitary pad. “I—I can do that.”
He didn’t respond, but he did toss the pad into the bag and stand. “The water’s going to be cold soon.”
He made for the door, but my curiosity wouldn’t just let him leave. “Who’s Trinity?”
The muscles in his back tightened and pulled against his thin t-shirt. He stood silently in the threshold for so long that I figured he wouldn’t answer and would tell me it was none of my business. But then he bit out, “My girlfriend,” and walked out.
The door slamming swallowed my inhale. I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. Fighting my trembling legs, I stood and shed my nightshirt. The water was the perfect temperature. The salt and bubbles caressed my skin and soothed the ache in my muscles the stress had caused. Pretty soon, I was asleep until a knock on the door brought me back to life. The water had gone cold and bumps covered my skin.
“Mian?”
I quickly sat up and stared at the door, hoping he wouldn’t open it. “I’m okay!” I yelled to answer his unspoken question. After three years, we were in tune with each other, and it was as if we secretly accepted the connection and silently hated each other for it.
I waited until he left to step out of the freezing water. The large towel was soft and a godsend against the cool air. It wasn’t until I finished wrapping the towel that I realized I didn’t have a change of clothes.
I’d have to leave the bathroom with only a towel to protect me. He was always disappearing and coming back hours later smelling like weed and looking like trouble. I’ve never met his friends, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have them. Maybe if I hid a little longer, he’d leave.
Or he’d realize I was hiding again, come back, and force me out.
I really only had one option.
I put my ear to the door, but it was silent on the other side. Maybe he’d gone to visit Trinity to laugh about what a stupid kid I am. My stomach cramped, but I told myself it was because of my menses and not the thought of him with another girl.
