His Brand of Love

by Angelique Voisen

  Once I take Noah’s life, rid the world of one monster, I’d take Julian to the police. Certain they’d help him, I’d do the world another fucking favor and end my own life. Screw it, but I couldn’t live with the burden of his death for the rest of my life. Noah’s a monster, but he’s still my baby brother.

  “Wait,” an unfamiliar voice rasped. Julian had somehow managed to cut off the restraints on his wrists to yank down the ball gag. He panted, staring at me with huge eyes. “Don’t kill him. Please.”

  “Don’t?” I repeated. This young man was farther gone than I realized. “What the fuck?”

  Induce Stockholm Syndrome in three days? Brother, you impress me.

  “I know you. You’re better than that,” he said.

  Julian was delusional, too? Great. I shouldn’t blame him though. That must be the hunger and sleep-deprivation talking—judging by how his ribs showed. One squeeze and Noah slumped against me, unexpectedly heavy.

  “No,” Julian whispered.

  I propped Noah against the wall, pressing two fingers to the pulse on his neck—weak but there. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

  “He’s alive,” I said.

  I patted down my brother, finding another set of keys. I hunkered over Julian’s quivering frame and tried the keys, unlocking the leash connected to his collar. I unbuckled the collar. With deft hands, I undid the knots on his ankles, remembering Noah and I had taken the same classes with a Shibari master all those years ago. My insides twisted. I couldn’t think about my unconscious brother now.

  “Can you walk?”

  For the next couple of seconds, Julian stared at me. It didn’t take a genius to figure him out. I looked like a copy of his tormentor, the man he’d given his trust and who’d thrown it away. A poor imitation, but even reproductions held power. I repeated the question.

  An unexpected stubborn expression crossed his face. Biting down on his lower lip, Julian shakily held onto the wall, but lack of movement for days caused him to crumple at my feet again.

  Too stubborn to ask for help, it figures. Still, seeing that rebellious light in Julian’s eyes gave me hope. Noah hadn’t wrecked him completely. With time and the right help, Julian could emerge, never whole, but healthy enough to start a new life.

  “Wait.”

  Ignoring his protests, I scooped him into my arms. With all his squirming, I nearly dropped him.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I growled.

  “I know. That’s the worst thing,” he whispered.

  More incomprehensible words, but I let him talk. Julian wrapped his slender arms around my neck, and I carried him out, about to sit him on the edge of Noah’s bed, but decided that wouldn’t be a good thing. Seeing the room, he sucked in a breath, and started clutching at me so hard his fingers dug into my shoulders. I’d chase away his fears if I could. Be the one to assure him that everything was over and I’d be by his side, but I’d be lying.

  Julian held on to me like a lifeline, but I wasn’t anyone’s hero. Did he know how fucked up all of this was, given Noah and I looked like mirrors of each other?

  Somewhere, Noah had lost his way, but it could have easily been me. We carried the same blood in our veins and shared the same DNA. Our mother had killed herself, blaming herself for carrying two monsters in the world.

  I spoke in a calm and detached voice. “I need to check you for injuries, and then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

  Carrying him outside, I placed him on the living room couch. What did he need? I knew Noah kept an emergency first aid kit in his bathroom. Julian would need clothes and some sustenance, too.

  I began to head back into the bedroom, but Julian caught the hem of my shirt with shaking fingers. I turned, frowning. Daylight did nothing but highlight the ugly bruises blossoming against his skin, the swollen and red marks on his wrists and ankles. I silently counted to ten in my head, in case I’d change my mind about letting Noah live.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Hurry back,” Julian answered, then dropped his gaze and bit his lip. “I can’t stand being alone.”

  I couldn’t walk away now. Fastening my hand on the back of his neck, still bearing two straight lines of his collar, I tilted his head upwards.

  “Look at me, Julian,” I commanded, letting him hear the authority in my voice. “You’ve been a brave boy, a good boy.”

  I massaged the nape of his neck until he relaxed.

  “Stay here. Don’t move. Understood?” I asked.

  “Yes, Master,” he answered with a sigh.

  That word, one word I relished hearing from my subs back the club, slipped out by accident. Noah had tainted the meaning of that word now. Shaking my head, I kissed his brow, ignoring the temptation to take his lips. Julian took initiative, trembling lips moving soundlessly, closing over mine. He’d done it now. Clasping the nape of his neck, I went in for the kill.

  It was wrong to kiss him now and I knew it, but I lost control of my body. I took his mouth the only way I knew how, rough, hard enough to bruise and draw blood. Julian responded, turned on by the pain, despite what he’d just gone through. I prodded my tongue at his lips, and he opened up, obedient, so I could slip my tongue down his throat.

  No resistance or reluctance on his end, only deadly compliance. I pulled away first, leaving us both panting, wanting more.

  “You said you knew me, back then when I was about to strangle Noah to death. Why did you say those words?”

  Julian blinked away his confusion. He thumbed at his bottom lip, still swollen from my kiss, looking thoughtful. Jesus. If I had to agree with my insane brother, it was this—Julian was beyond gorgeous, someone worth breaking, owning and seeing grow. I thought Noah taking him captive had killed any desire of his for power exchange. That kiss proved otherwise.

  “You’re not like him,” Julian said eventually. “I fell hard for his charm, not realizing he wore a mask all the time, even during our sessions at the clubs.”

  “And me?”

  “The first time you saw me at my worst, when my fear defeated me, your first instinct had been to save me.”

  Maybe this sub was more damaged than I’d realized. I wore my brother’s face. I couldn’t ignore the fact we came from the same mold. If I crossed that line, would I do the same to Julian?

  “Stay here,” I ordered again.

  I didn’t doubt he’d obey the command. Repetition was more for my reassurance than his, and one shred of hesitation on my end could send Julian running. He needed stability, the unshakable confidence of a Dom who knew what he was doing. Fuck, but nothing in my life prepared me for this, or him.

  “I’ll be here, Master.”

  Master. It grated on my nerves. I counted to ten in my head again. It didn’t work—not a fucking surprise.

  “Don’t throw that word around like it means nothing,” I snapped, regretting it soon after.

  Tears blurred Julian’s eyes, which he wiped away with the back of his hand with haste.

  “That word,” Julian spat, continuing, “once meant everything to me, my entire universe. It’s a lot to ask, but please, allow me this measure of kindness.”

  I quirked a smile. “And we both know kindness isn’t what you’re looking for, self-flagellation is. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty for something my brother did.”

  Julian shook his head. Stubborn boy. “I pushed him to it.”

  Curse Noah for ruining both of us. He’d ensured Julian had no certainty of returning back to the world he’d known before and me for being unable to take my goddamn eyes off Julian. Julian was damaged and beautiful, a lethal combination.

  Without another word, terrified I’d say words I’d come to regret, I returned to Noah’s bedroom. Seeing Noah’s slumped figure didn’t give me much relief. In the heat of the moment, with adrenaline surging in my veins, it didn’t feel all that hard to strangle the last breath of out him.

  The present, meanwhile, proved to be a
more daunting task. I walked to the footboard of his bed, touching the standard issue handcuffs dangling on the end. What did it say I possessed the same universal key to unlock it?

  Unclipping the cuff, I returned to my brother. Dragging his prone body to the bolt in the wall which once held Julian’s leash, I cuffed his wrist to the bolt. Not a solution, but I’d deal with Noah later, once I had my head back on my shoulders. I plucked the key to the closet door. Locking the door, I headed to the bathroom, and took obscene pleasure watching the little key flush down the bowl.

  Noah would figure out how to escape sooner or later. We loved practicing magician escape tricks when we were kids and occasionally employed it during live demonstrations at the club. Shaking my head, I grabbed the first aid kit, heart thudding. Would I find Julian gone?

  On one hand, his escape meant a massive load had been lifted off my shoulders. Truthfully, though? I wasn’t ready to let him go. Seeing him bound and restrained in that tiny space, it felt like a phantom hand shoved itself into my heart and dragged out all my dark and dirty desires.

  I can fix him, guide him. I’d lash his wrists and ankles, immobilize him while he begged me for more pain. I can tell myself I’m doing this all for love, to shove him in the right direction, but I’m fooling myself.

  “You’re back. I thought you left,” Julian blurted out, small smile on his lips at the sight of me.

  Placing the kit down, I critically examined him. Julian didn’t fight me. Like any good Dom, I knew basic first aid and touched him with professional and quick fingers. Julian let out a frustrated growl, impatient, but I could tell he loved every second of the tense moment, my act of denial.

  “You’re bruised up. Nothing seems broken, but it’s best you check into a hospital to make sure.”

  At his panicked look at the mention of hospitals, I added, “Don’t worry. I have connections within the local hospital. I’ve got friends in the force, too, if people started asking questions. Come.”

  I held out a hand, a simple gesture, but also a test. Julian gave his trust to a man who abused it and took advantage, and here I stood, a doppelganger monster harboring ill intentions. Julian hesitated for a long time, before linking his fingers with mine.

  Chapter Five

  Julian

  Safe in the passenger seat, I boldly eyed Nick while he drove, eyes trained on the road. I fidgeted with my seatbelt, remembering the burn of his kiss. When Noah opened the closet door, I thought I saw double. Closer inspection told me I wasn’t going crazy. Larger, more muscled, and rougher, Nick possessed hard eyes, eyes capable of both cruelty and kindness. Noah wore his masks well, I’d realized, during my short captivity.

  Three days. Seventy-two hours and no longer, but it felt like an eternity, kept in the dark and tiny space like that. I’d counted every second in my head, started looking forward to my only reprieve—the moment Noah would open the door to feed me or lead me by the leash to the bathroom.

  I could have run anytime. Yanked the leash back and run out of my private hell without looking back, but deep-rooted fear made me obey his commands. Noah didn’t need three days. After day one, he’d broken me down. Stolen my identity and reduced me to an animal, his pet. I’d gone so far into myself, locked the remains of my former self, until I heard the stranger’s voice, Nick’s.

  Hope had flared in me, stupid as that sounded. Horror filled me when I realized Nick looked exactly like Noah. Terror I’d never known sent trembles up and down my body when Noah showed me the pear of anguish. I’d thought Noah would never make good on his threat.

  After all, this was the same man I loved, I trusted to bind me, beat me, and whip me. Noah had gone slightly off-track, but I knew the man I’d fallen for remained in there. Sentimental thinking, I guessed. Something inside me, the last barrier keeping me together, broke, when I saw Noah’s mad eyes.

  The sadistic asshole would’ve shoved that grisly toy up my ass, which was still sore from his activities hours ago.

  Nothing about that situation held promise or salvation, but in the deepest recesses of my soul, I still longed to be hurt. The naïve sub inside me still believed Noah would recover from his sickness, and once he did, he’d take me into his arms and apologize. He’d promised me he’d make it up to me for the rest of his life, but that was only wishful thinking.

  My heart hammered so hard against my chest, I’d thought it’d burst from its confines … until Nick wrapped those huge and lethal hands—a killer’s hands, around Noah’s throat.

  “What are you looking at, Julian?” Nick’s voice dragged me back to the present.

  He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t need to. His mere presence filled the car, making him hard to ignore, to deny what he was. I’d seen firsthand how fast Nick moved, despite his bulk, how he’d nearly choked Noah to death. Those were dirty hands, used to doing ill deeds. I should fear Nick, but I associated nothing but safety with him. Then again, I was not a good judge of character.

  Still, when he gripped my chin and forced me to look at him, I glimpsed what I could never do with Noah—Nick’s soul, dark as mine, tainted some would say, but there was something else, too. I remembered myself at sixteen, awkward as hell and knowing I wasn’t like other boys. Pushing my way into the bookstore after school, I’d pull my hood up and slink into my favorite section.

  I’d stare at the cover of one particular book for what seemed like hours. Written by an unknown erotica author I’d never heard of, I remembered the story stirred buried things I’ve kept repressed over the years. The cover helped, too. Completely done in black-and-white, the male model on the cover knelt, head bowed, lending him animosity. The only color had been the ropes, red like blood, crisscrossing against his body and rendering him immobile.

  I remembered thinking that was what real love looked like.

  How often did I imagine being that boy?

  One day, I’d finally summoned the courage to slip the book into my hoodie when no one was looking. They wouldn’t let a sixteen-year-old buy that book. I felt guilty about it for a couple of hours. Remorse vanished the moment I flopped on my bed and devoured it in a single night.

  “Julian, answer my question,” Nick said, not sounding angry, but his voice was firm.

  “You,” I answered hoarsely, dragging my gaze to the scenery outside. Neither of us liked my admission, I could tell, despite Nick’s unreadable look. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Anywhere you want. The station first, or the hospital?”

  “Neither.” Alarmed, I clutched at the seatbelt tighter, comforted by how the fabric strapped me into the seat. I wasn’t going anywhere yet. “You want me to go the cops?”

  “What Noah did was inexcusable, and your friends and family are probably worried,” Nick answered.

  “I want—” I faltered, not knowing how to continue. “I don’t want the authorities to be involved. Besides, I only have one person I can call my friend. I’m a foster kid, so there’s no family to worry about me.”

  “Figures,” Nick said under his breath.

  “What?”

  “Noah always chose his subs carefully, those who won’t be missed.” Nick stole a glance at me when the stoplight turned red. His face might be made of rough angles, a nose that didn’t quite heal well, but those eyes eerily looked like Noah’s, steel gray and capable of reading people with a glance. “I’m the same.”

  I swallowed, sinking my nails into my skin. Was Nick trying to scare me off? “Why? You have a thing for lost boys, too?”

  “I like them lost and a little damaged.”

  My mouth went dry. I rubbed my sweaty palms over the sweats I borrowed, that still smelled like the fabric softener Noah used.

  “Why?”

  That seemed like the only word I could manage. Was Nick lying about going to the police? What if all this turned out to be some kind of sick and elaborate game the brothers liked to play? Imprison a bird, offer it freedom, knowing full well it could no longer fly. Offer him hope and yan
k that from under him after.

  I furiously rubbed at my face. Being paranoid didn’t help in this situation, but I hadn’t imagined the hunger in Nick’s eyes. Nick wanted me, could’ve taken advantage of me any time he wanted, but he didn’t. He kept his distance, knowing that frustrated me.

  It took Noah six months to fully understand me. Nick took no more than a second.

  I suppressed a shiver.

  “Those who have nothing to lose have more love to give,” he finally answered.

  “You actually sound like you mean that.”

  A ghost of a smile appeared on Nick’s lips, and it felt like I was privy to something few people had seen before.

  “Noah and I came from nothing, but we’d always known what we were—sadists. Both of us demanded complete submission, sought perfection—or something close to it, from our subs. Obedience, truly giving oneself to another, that’s fucking love. At least, that’s what I believed. Noah meanwhile.” Nick made a disgusted noise in his throat. “In the end, I didn’t know my brother at all.”

  Shaken, I rubbed at his hands. “Noah never talks about his childhood or his past.”

  “Why would he? He liked his subs to think he wasn’t flawed.”

  I stared out the windows again. Three days a prisoner and I’d already felt like a stranger to the world. We rolled past familiar neighborhoods and landmarks, but I felt like a ghost. I’d died, and somehow, this stranger who wore my skin and sounded just like me replaced my original self.

  I finished for Nick. “He hid his cracks too well.”

  “Not well enough.”

  “You said you’d take me anywhere I want.” I didn’t know where I found the courage to look him in the eye. “Take me with you.”

  Nick glowered. “No.”

  “Why not? I see the way you look at me. You desire me, just as much as Noah did. Even like this.” I gestured to my body, hoping he understood what that meant to me. A good doctor might be able to hide what he really felt—disgust, pity, sympathy, but Nick didn’t. “You want me.”

  “Can’t you see what’s wrong with that logic?”