Bound to the Fallen (Prophecy #2)

by Stevie J. Cole

  My thought strayed back to Brooke and I knew I could never tell her these things. How would I ever begin to explain that death was a meaningless word to me? If there was a way to kill a Fallen, it was unbeknownst to me. She wouldn’t understand the things I’d done. She would fear me. My mind was numb from thought when I turned to go back to the house.

  I quietly pulled the glass door back and stood in the living room. Walking up the stairs, I looked at the family pictures hung in the stairwell. Family was such a foreign thing to me. I’d no idea what it meant. Removing my gaze from the picture, I turned to go into the guest room. The door to Brooke’s room was slightly cracked and I peered in. She lay still in her bed, her long hair fell across her shoulders, and her mouth was hidden by the hand she had curled up on her pillow.

  I pushed the door open slowly.

  My God, I loved her. Was it truly possible that I loved this creature?

  I walked to the empty side of her bed and pulled the sheets back, climbing in behind her, the familiar scent of her lifting up to my face as I wrapped my arm tightly around her. I delicately gathered her hair away from her shoulder and kissed the nape of her neck. I had become so flawless at pretending to be a mortal, maybe to the point I had tricked myself into believing I belonged with one.

  I couldn’t let her lay there angry with me in her dreams. As I stared at her I remembered how it was that these creations caused our fall in the first place. Women own a possession more powerful than any other force in the world, and what a beautiful possession it was.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Brooke

  I woke up to Gavin slipping in the bed behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed the back of my neck.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered to him.

  “I can’t stand the thought of letting you go to bed mad at me.” He kissed down my neck and across my shoulder.

  I rolled over to face him, whispering, “I’m hurt.”

  “I know, love. I’m sorry.” Pulling me closer to him, the coolness of his body melted into my warmth. “I promise I’ll tell you, but now’s not the time nor place. I’ll tell you… I’ll tell you.” His voice sounded disheartened.

  “I don’t want you keeping things from me.” I pulled his face toward mine and could feel the warm tears stinging my eyes. “You know I have trust issues. I’ve told you about my father,” I paused, my eyes strained to see his face through the dark.

  “I know,” Gavin said as he stroked the top of my head. His hand ran down my neck and stopped above my shoulder. “I would never do something like that to you. I swear. I’m all yours. No one else’s.” Gavin sat up and pressed his lips against the top of my back. “I love you,” he whispered and slid out from under the sheets. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He glanced back in my direction and walked toward the door.

  “I love you too,” I said. My heart felt helpless as I stared at his shadow lurking in the doorway. I wanted to stay angry with him, but just couldn’t. I repositioned myself in my bed and closed my eyes to sleep.

  The rest of the visit with my family was uneventful. Gavin was, of course, irresistibly charming and my mother adored him. Melissa quickly fell in love with him and Amber was attached to his hip.

  “God, Brooke,” Melissa leaned over and whispered to me as we strolled along the shore. “He’s gorgeous and amazing with kids.”

  I looked ahead and saw Gavin attempting to teach Amber how to hit the volleyball against the wind. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing,” I had to agree.

  “I’m jealous.” Her eyes cut over to me and a sarcastic curl picked her lips up. “Maybe I should’ve finished medical school, found a gem like him.”

  We laughed and sat down on the retaining wall while we watched Gavin and Amber hit the ball back and forth. I pulled the sleeves of my shirt down over my hands and held them tightly in my palms so they wouldn’t creep up and reveal the red marks encircling them.

  “Aren’t you hot?” Melissa asked.

  “Nope.”

  She shook her head and dusted her knee off. “Has he mentioned getting married?”

  I gave my sister a contemptuous glare. “Melissa? No, we haven’t discussed that. God, we haven’t even been together that long. Why is everybody all about getting married anyways? I may not ever get married.”

  The wind blew, catching hair on her glossed lips. She wiped the hair out of her face. “Just asking? I wouldn’t let that one get away. He seems absolutely perfect for you, B,” she said and redirected her stare over to him and Amber.

  “Yeah…” I trailed off as my thoughts wandered back to the topic he’d brought up a few nights before.

  Perfect for me as far as I knew, but I still had no idea what he was keeping from me. Although the question had been gnawing at my insides, I’d refrained from asking him about it again. Partly from fear that I’d make him mad, and partly from the fear that whatever it was would destroy the perfect image I had in my head of him. What if it was something horrible, something I couldn’t handle? I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to know what it was anymore. I almost felt I would rather go on and be oblivious to whatever “dark” thing he was keeping hidden than let it ruin our relationship.

  I wonder if this is how Mother felt? Why she ignored the signs for so long…

  My mother walked up and handed us bottles of spring water. “That’s so sweet that they get along,” Mother said with a smile as she perched herself up on the wooden retaining wall next to me. “I like him, Brooke.” She twisted the top off her bottle and lifted the mouth to her lips. “You’re stopping by your father’s on the way out today, right?” she asked.

  I rolled my eyes slightly and huffed my answer out. “Yeah.”

  I wasn’t too eager to go visit him. I was still very angry with him.

  “Brooke, he’s still your father. I know you’re mad at him, but –” she took another quick swig of the cold water.

  “Mad is an understatement,” I exclaimed.

  “I agree,” Melissa interjected. “More like fuming, disgusted, outraged…”

  “Girls, you have to forgive him.” My mother looked sternly at us both. I didn’t understand why she still took up for him. I wanted her to hate him.

  I was relieved when the volleyball landed in front of me, sprinkling the fine white sand across the top of my foot. Gavin ran up with a grin on his face. He bent down, picked the ball up, and dusted it off with his hands. He gave me a quick kiss before running back over to the net where Amber was patiently waiting.

  My mother shook her head and placed her hand tenderly on my shoulder. “He seems absolutely perfect, Brooke. I’m so happy for you.”

  I smiled graciously as that word perfect echoed in my ears.

  Perfect. Everyone thinks he’s perfect. I thought he was perfect.

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Brooke

  Plopping down in the floor, I twisted the top off the nail polish. “Yeah. So, that visit with my dad was cut short as soon as he blurted out that Tessa, the mistress, was pregnant.”

  “What? You’re kidding me?” Constance asked.

  “Nope. Of course I had to be a smartass, which ended up with me and Dad fighting. He got pretty nasty, and for a second I thought Gavin was gonna punch him. I just can’t stand my dad. It’s gonna kill Mother when she finds out.”

  Constance stared at me, and for once, I’d rendered her speechless.

  “It’s absolutely gross. I mean, I could have a kid older than that,” I said, snarling my lips up and twisting my face with disgust. “So, in six months I’ll have a new sister or brother.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

  Constance continued to look at me in disbelief. She scrunched her face up. “Oh, for the love! That’s just — ” She shuddered. “Ohhhh, nasty!”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  I dipped the nail polish brush back into the bottle and dragged it against the rim. Car
efully stroking the brush across my toenail, it left behind a bright shiny purple color.

  “So, have you finished reading that book yet?” Constance glanced up at me and blew on her nails.

  Picking a piece of fuzz out of the wet polish, I lifted my eyes to hers. “Which one?”

  “Seriously? That crazy book about demons that mysteriously showed up at your front door?” She huffed under her breath, “What book – ha! I mean, who doesn’t get creepy devil books delivered by Fedex all the time? Shit.”

  “No, I haven’t. Every time I read it I have horrible nightmares.” I picked up a magazine from beside her end table and fanned my nails.

  “Why don’t you just throw it away? Give it to Goodwill or something?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I fell silent for a moment and then changed the topic. “So, I’m pretty sure Gavin’s into all that BDSM stuff. I want to say something to him about it. I mean, if he’s worried that it’s gonna upset me or make me think he’s a freak or something, he’s wrong.”

  Constance snorted, “Okay, well numero uno — he was with Amy, who, let’s not forget, was getting some pretty rough lovin’ that night and was all decked out in some leather get-up. Two –”

  “You mean dos?”

  She glared at me. “Stop being a smart-ass. Two, correct me if I’m wrong, but earlier tonight when I asked you what the hell happened to your wrists you mentioned something along the lines of an Indian burn from a rope he tied you up with — on a boat — miles from the shore, where, duh-duh-duh, ‘no one could hear you scream.’ I think it’s safe to say he’s a little into it, so unless you’re ready to be decked out in leather, collared, and spanked with a riding crop, I suggest you choose your words carefully.”

  “Shut up, Constance.” I rubbed along my slightly scabbed-over wrists. “I tied him up first.”

  She threw her palms up and tilted her head to the side. “Hey, I’m not judging. You two do your own freaky thing.” She paused. “It’s just lookin’ at the two of you I’d never imagined you to be such freaks.” Constance stopped and a thoughtful look came over her face as she continued, “Well, maybe him because he’s ungodly attractive, but you, Ms. Mee-maw sweater— never saw that comin’. That damn book you gave me grief for reading obsessively must have put a little kink in your step, huh? It was the catalyst to all this, wasn’t it? Oh, God… this is my fault!” She laughed uncontrollably.

  I glared at her, her humor was grating my nerves. “I’m not the one dating a guy that would set a damn metal detector at the airport off from his piercings. He probably has his dick pierced, freak!”

  “Hey, hey,” she defended him. “He only has it pierced twice!” A large, proud smile beamed across her face.

  My eyes widened and my lips twisted up. “Twice? Is that even possible? Weird, Constance.”

  Grabbing a notepad and pen from her coffee table, she scratched a crude drawing of a male genital on her pad. “Well, he’s got it pierced here,” she moved her pencil down on the drawing, “and here.”

  I shook my head slowly. “I mean, you like it?”

  Her eyebrows arched high and an obscene look glazed her eyes over. “Ab-so-fuckin-lutely!”

  I grabbed the throw pillow off of her couch and smacked her in the face with it. “You’re the damn freak.” I put the pillow in my lap, staring at Constance with a look any best friend would recognize as the I’ve-got-something-kinda-raunchy-to-tell-you look.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “I think I may go to another one of those parties with Ashley.” I flinched, expecting her to punch me in the arm.

  “Brooke,” she gawked at me, “what the hell?”

  “I don’t know, it’s just — something about it.” I rubbed my finger across my lips. “Just, I don’t know, it’s just so erotic.”

  Constance stared at me blankly before speaking. “Really? Really?” She shook her head. “I just don’t understand it. I’m not gonna lie, it scared the absolute shit outta me.”

  “Not me.” My stomach became uneasy just confessing that to her.

  Constance stood up and walked into her kitchen. “Maybe you should just mention it to Dr. McFuckingston first. That club’s freaky. It gave me the heebie jeebies. It looked like a place serial killers or vampires would hang out. At least you know he’s not going to kill you.”

  “Vampires? Really. I think you need to stop reading so many damn books.”

  Peeking around the open door of her fridge at me, she snidely commented, “Oh! So you agree that the place probably has serial killers then?

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Brooke

  September 12, 2014

  I walked out of the kitchen and sat next to Gavin on the couch. His eyes were locked on the television as he reached over and lightly grabbed my thigh. Leaning over to give me, he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I sat there, contemplating bringing the topic up with him. I was terrified that I’d taken things the wrong way, and that he’d get completely freaked out. Maybe the entire BDSM thing is why he didn’t like Amy.

  “Babe?” I hoped the nervousness in my voice wasn’t as evident to him as it was to me.

  He faced me and a slight smile crept across his face. “Hmmm?”

  I inhaled a quick breath. “You know, there’s, uh — I’ve been reading this —” I stopped. I could feel my heart thrashing in my chest. I couldn’t believe I was about to suggest such a taboo topic. It’s completely one thing to read about it, but another to ask your boyfriend how he’d feel about exploring it with you. I knew part of me just wanted to see his reaction because I had started to think that maybe this was the “dark side” of him he couldn’t bring himself to tell me about. That topic hadn’t reared its ugly head since the beach and the curiosity was eating me up.

  “What is it, love?” Gavin’s smile made my heart skip slightly. His eyes narrowed and he brought a hand up to my cheek, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin. “What?” he asked.

  “You know when you tied me up out on the boat?” I timidly said. His eyes went blank. “You asked me if I liked it rough,” I said.

  “Mm-hmmm.” he replied slowly. Gavin stared at me, his expression still completely unreadable.

  Tracing a finger lightly up his arm, I confessed, “Well, I do.” I felt a warmth rush over my cheeks. “I like it.”

  “You do?” He paused and pulled away from me, studying me as his eyes shifted back and forth between mine.

  “Mm-hmmm.” I drew my bottom lip in ever so slightly and tried to read what was going through his mind.

  “I see.” His head tilted slightly to the left. He sat silently for what seemed like an eternity. I was so terrified of what he was thinking.

  Gavin brought his face close to mine and whispered, “You want me to be rough with you?” I saw a twinge of utter excitement and hesitation in his eyes.

  “I want to try it.” I stopped momentarily trying to decide how much to tell him. “It turned me on, the way you were acting that night.” I swallowed. “So controlling, so rough, and I just —”

  A crooked smile formed on Gavin’s lips and he interrupted my stammering. “You’re curious, huh?”

  Nodding, I winced slightly. I felt a morsel of nausea rise within my stomach as he continued to stare silently at me.

  He inhaled and cast his eyes upward as his tongue slithered across his lips, wetting them. “I do want to please you,” he said and took another long breath, this time through his nose. “I’m not so sure you know what you’re asking me to do.” He gripped my chin lightly with his fingers. “Do you understand what you’re asking me to do?”

  I was slightly baffled by his question but nodded my head anyway.

  Smiling lovingly, he whispered, “No, you don’t. Love, you don’t want this.” He paused and turned his head to the side. His eyes glanced toward the floor, a hint of a groan coming from him as he sighed again. “You don�
��t — do you?” His eyes narrowed as he looked into mine, trying to understand my request.

  “Yes, I think so.” I watched him and something about his demeanor seemed defeated.

  He kissed me gently, tenderly, fervently and abruptly pulled away. “I told you—” he paused and flipped the television off. “There are things you don’t know about me.” Ripping his black t-shirt over his head, he tossed it across the room. “Remember?”

  I stared at him, now almost certain that he was indeed into this stuff, but I had no clue exactly how deep into it he may be. A small wave of fear stumbled across my body when he rose from the white leather couch. His demeanor seemed to change instantaneously as he walked to his kitchen and turned music on. His posture immediately became commanding.

  Gavin came back into the living room and snatched his belt through the loops of his jeans. He stared coldly at me with a fire rising behind his eyes. I felt like he’d been waiting on me to ask him to do this with me.

  “Sexy song,” I said nervously and I sat up on his leather couch, inadvertently backing away from him as he stalked toward me. My nerves hadn’t been so wound up since the time I’d entered that hotel room in Boston.

  “Adrenalizer, by In This Moment,” he said as he methodically laid his belt across his coffee table. He ran his hands through his hair, dropping his jeans to his feet and stepping out of them. He kicked them to the side. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  He ever so slowly came closer to me, his eyes set on mine, the intensity behind them growing with each step.

  “Stand up,” he said loudly. The hard rhythm of the music beat through my chest and I found myself rising immediately at his command.

  “Good.” He paused and his eyes focused on my breasts. “Take off your shirt.”

  Reaching down, I fumbled to quickly pull my shirt over my chest. The way he was instructing me turned me on so deeply. His words…