by Nashoda Rose
I curled my hand around the phone. Fuck.
“Boss.”
Fuck, London, what the hell are you doing?
I rested my forehead against the cool glass window and closed my eyes.
“On my way.” I ended the call.
I pulled my phone out and called Ernie as I drove toward the Dark Horse. “Two minutes out.”
“Bouncer says she’s in the alley. Not going to like it, boss.”
I fuckin’ knew I wasn’t going to like what I saw. I didn’t like what I saw in Mexico, in Germany, in fuckin’ Toronto with Alfonzo. “Keep the bouncer inside. Don’t need witnesses.”
“Got it.”
I slowed down when I saw the sign for Dark Horse, a seedy bar that had a scantily clad chick out front and a man loitering, probably selling drugs or maybe the girl’s pimp or her potential client.
I pulled down the first alley after the bar, stopped the car then leaned over, reached in my bag and took out one of the syringes. I wasn’t taking any chances and didn’t need some pumped-up bouncer coming to her rescue and making this turn into something that attracted attention.
The city was alive with sounds, horns, buses, laughter, and shouts and yet, it was my footsteps on the pavement that were the loudest, like the buildup before the climax in a movie. Everything else became insignificant except that moment.
I was like an addict approaching what I’d been denied for years. The need claimed me. She claimed me.
I stopped when I saw her curled up on the ground sleeping, orange peels lying on the pavement beside her and litter scattered around her.
“Jesus.” I took the final few steps toward her then crouched. I pushed her limp, dull hair from her face. “Baby.” She had dark smudges of dirt on her cheeks and forehead.
I had to make a choice. Ernie was right, this couldn’t continue.
Killing her would end her misery.
Slit her throat while she slept and forget I’d ever met her. Wanted her. Fucked her.
Save her the suffering. Save her from me and what I’d have to do in order to stop this.
But I couldn’t.
I’d let the monsters invade me. The emotions pulsed and London was mine.
I drew my knife from beneath my pant leg and rested the sharp blade against her collarbone.
It would be so simple.
End this.
End what had become my obsession.
I lay the hard blade flat on the surface of her skin then tilted the tip slightly, the pressure barely there, but enough. With the tiniest movement, my blade nicked her and I watched the pearl of blood rise to the surface, hesitate then trail a path of red down into her torn black sweater.
Her eyes flickered open for a moment and met mine, but they didn’t see me. They were dead. She closed them again.
“Fuck, braveheart.” But that one bead of blood was my answer to the road I was about to take. “You’re going to need to live up to that name now. I can’t do this any other way.”
Because I wasn’t walking away again. And the consequences could get her killed. But she was fading into nothing. She believed she was nothing and London was so much more. She was lost and there was only one way to get her back. I’d have to destroy the girl who’d been running from herself.
Kill Raven.
And hope to find the girl beneath—London.
Her choices had been taken away and she’d been trained to obey. Her survival had depended on being locked inside herself. But she didn’t need to do that anymore.
She was trapped, unable to escape the cycle. Afraid to step out of the shadows. According to Ernie, she’d been seeing therapists, doctors, and they had her on medication after medication, but Ernie thought all they did was make her isolate herself more.
Fuckin’ Ernie. Bastard knew I’d never walk away if I saw her again. That was why he wanted me here.
Now, there was one option for me… for her. I was going to pull her from the safe, from the shadows and destroy every piece of Raven.
I put my knife away, took out the syringe, and removed the cap. I gently lowered her shirt off her right shoulder, the pad of my finger caressing her skin.
The needle pierced her skin and she flinched, but didn’t open her eyes.
“No more running. You’re going to have to be my braveheart in order to survive me.”
After a few minutes, I saw the tension around her eyes ease and knew the sedative had taken effect. The club door opened and Ernie stood there.
I nodded to him and all he said was, “Finally. This deserves a fuckin’ scotch.” Then he slammed the door and went back inside.
I huffed and then picked her up in my arms, before striding back to my car. I put her in the front seat, fastened her seatbelt then got in and started the long drive to my house.
I was taking her home, to a place no one knew about except Ernie.
I was finding London and bringing her back to me.
Rules
I SAT WITH one leg crooked over the other, my elbow resting on the padded armrest, thumb lightly stroking back and forth over my lower lip. From across the room, I watched her. It had been hours. It was dark now, but now that she was here, time had no meaning. It was about the present.
London’s breathing gradually quickened and she turned over then curled up into a ball, her breath caught in her throat before it changed to deep, ragged inhales as if she were trapped in a nightmare. I didn’t bother waking her. Instead, I did what I was good at—watched. Assessed. Planned.
Eight hours we’d spent driving to my house. A house Vault didn’t know existed. If they found out my loyalty was compromised, they’d find this place. But for now, it was the safest place I knew to take her.
I’d have to check in with Brice in the city at some point, but Tanner had his eyes on Chaos. The anniversary date was drawing near for Chaos’s brother’s ‘death’ and I’d have to meet her in the fuckin’ shed.
I did it. I cut Chaos. And I hated it, but it was something she thought she needed. I refused the first time she asked me and she went to Tanner instead. When I saw what he’d done to her back, I beat the shit out of him, had my blade to his throat ready to kill him. But he belonged to Vault and killing him because he hurt Chaos would speak volumes about me. Volumes that had to be buried.
London kicked the crisp white sheet off and it twisted into a pile at the end of the bed. My eyes trailed up the outline of her body and all I felt was disgust. This wasn’t the girl I stalked for years. It wasn’t the girl I made a deal with and had her silky legs wrapped around me. It wasn’t even the girl I’d left in Mexico.
This was Raven.
A girl trained to pleasure men. Ironic that I’d been trained, too, but in a much different way. Vault didn’t use sex to break you. Children were molded, sculpted into stone. Conditioned.
And now with the drug, London’s father had given them more power. A drug to help them mold men. Men who were already trained killers like Connor.
There was no margin of error allowed. No room for mistakes and yet, I’d made plenty of mistakes in the last few years.
Things weren’t so simple anymore.
London had made them complicated.
Her body tensed and fingers curled around the plush pillow beneath her cheek. She was finally waking and what I had to do to her would begin.
She darted upright, her eyes wide and frantic. I waited while she searched the room, trying to figure out where she was and what happened.
Her gaze hit me and I raised my brows, the corners of my lips curving upwards as her mind caught up with what her eyes were seeing.
“Kai—” She abruptly cut herself off, her eyes quickly scanning the room as if searching for someone else. I saw the confusion, the conflict over whether to trust who she thought I was or protect herself and be who she was trained to be, who she considered to be the safe option. Well, that safe option was going to be ripped away.
Her brows scrunched together, lips parted wi
th a slight tremble and her eyes… haunted and uncertain.
Then she chose.
She crawled off the bed and slipped to her knees. A submissive position. One London would never do, but Raven would. She had to. It had been her survival.
I’d always come for her, but I’d always walked away too.
Her loft. Mexico. The auction. And then at the warehouse when I killed Jacob and she begged me not to leave her.
I’d left her with nothing of me to trust.
I sighed, uncrossing my legs. Fuck, this was going to be hell for both of us. “Come here.”
She came to her feet to do my bidding and walked toward me then knelt. But she didn’t stop there. Her hands went to my crotch.
Fuck.
I grabbed her wrist and I wasn’t gentle about it as I yanked her hand away, disgust tearing through me. I twisted it slightly so she was forced to shuffle back to alleviate the pressure and only then did I let her go. I knew nothing about therapy, talking bullshit in a room with art hanging on the walls that were supposed to have some underlying meaning other than blobs of colors.
What I did know was how to kill. Break. Destroy. And do it with a smile. That was what I was going to do to Raven. Kill her. And she was going to resist. She was going to hate me taking away her safety.
She ran from home because she was unable to live in that world again. She knew how to be a slave. She knew how to be Raven and being Raven allowed her to avoid facing what happened.
“Never do that again. I have rules and you break any of them I will make you lie in a bathtub of ice water until you’re so fuckin’ cold you can barely breathe.” The threat had to be real. Something I could do if she did it again, because I wouldn’t lie to her.
She had to understand that every word out of my mouth was real.
London… no, Raven, she wasn’t London yet, sat back on her heels, but a fresh tear escaped her right eye and trailed a path down her cheek. A path because she was filthy and smelled like trash and required a shitload of soap.
I leaned back in my chair. “You’re good at following rules.” Well, she was now. She didn’t used to be. She had refused to sleep naked. “You just heard the first one. Repeat it to me.”
“Don’t touch you?” Her voice trembled and, if I’d been blind and didn’t know London was kneeling in front of me, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
“Good. Second rule, I ask you something, I want an answer.”
She nodded.
“No, repeat what I just said. I want no misunderstanding here.”
“Answer you.”
Good enough. The leather crackled as I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “And you will never kneel or avoid looking at me again.”
Her breath quickened and her hands lying flat on her thighs twitched. She was debating what to do. Whether to get off her knees now or wait until I told her to. I needed her to think for herself. She was no longer a slave to do what she was told. She had to make her own decisions, even if she thought the consequences were bad.
Eventually, she’d learn the consequences would never be bad, unless she was Raven. This was what she understood—rules. And I’d use them to find London buried underneath Raven.
Her lips quivered and brows lowered as she contemplated.
I waited. Patient.
Then she put her hands on the floor and pushed up and stood. It took longer for her chin to rise and her eyes to meet mine. But she did it and the second she did, I saw the flash of fear over what would happen because she had made eye contact. Then her eyes went dead again.
I nodded with approval. She repeated my words, her eyes staring at me, but she wasn’t seeing. Not really. It was a mask. I’d done it myself when I had to take my mind away from the pain that was inflicted on me at the farm.
“Bathroom is over there.” I gestured to the left with my hand and she flinched. Jesus, that pissed me off. How many times had Alfonzo or Jacob raised their hand and hit her? “Go shower. There are clothes next to the sink. Come out to the kitchen when you’re done and eat something.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. She’d do everything I told her to.
I stood, brushed by her and left the room.
It had only been eight minutes since I left her before she was walking barefoot across my hardwood floors into the kitchen.
I stood facing the stove, stirring the vegetable beef soup in the cast iron pot, the steam and aroma rising up in front of me.
I refused to direct her on what to do. This was a learning curve for me, too. I was pretty fuckin’ sure her normal move would be to kneel on the floor, probably by the doorway. But my rule was blaring in her head.
I swear I heard her heart thumping hard against her chest a few feet behind me as she again had to decide what the next step was. For all I knew, she’d just stand there until I addressed her, but she’d have to wait a fuck of a long time. I’d make her stand there all night if I had to.
I ladled the soup into two bowls then carried them over to the bar stools at the island which was a mere inch from where she stood. The scent of the coconut and mango shampoo mixed with the soup.
I pulled out both seats then sat.
Ask me, London. Fuck.
It was a simple test. I knew she was watching me and from the corner of my eye, I saw her bite her lower lip and her eyes waver to the stool, to the bowl of soup, and back to me.
Take a risk, damn it. Be fuckin’ brave, baby.
Ten minutes. Ten fuckin’ minutes. I was on my second bowl of soup and hers was no longer steaming.
“May I eat, master?”
“Yes. You can help yourself to anything you want at any time.” And I didn’t like her calling me fuckin’ master. “You know my name—use it.”
She sat quietly at the island and ate the cold soup. I restrained myself from heating it up, but that was her fault it took her so fuckin’ long.
I never said I was nice.
She was cautious as she ate, and I couldn’t help imagining us in her kitchen together. A different arrangement. An entirely different girl.
I looked at Raven. I’d never fuck her.
I shoved back my stool, stood, then went and rinsed out my bowl in the sink, put the rest of the soup in a container and placed it in the fridge. I washed the pot then turned around and she was still sitting there, spoon resting against the lip of the bowl and her head down.
“Go to sleep when you’re done, bab… Raven.” I strode out of the kitchen, open concept, so I was still technically in the room, and sat on the couch. I put my knife on the glass coffee table along with my rolled-up wire. Then I clicked on the stereo to some jazz, put my feet up, and waited.
I had my head back and eyes closed when I heard her approach. And this is when it fucked with my head because I wanted to look at her, hold out my hand and drag her down on top of me, then undress her and taste that sweetness I’d craved for years.
Years. Jesus.
But I didn’t want the submissive, obedient robot. I wanted London.
“Kai,” her voice trembled and I stiffened.
I took my time to peer at her standing beside the couch, arms at her sides, fingers gripping her shirt. A scared little rabbit that wanted to crawl in her hole. But I was the wolf and I sat on it, blocking her escape.
“Yes?” I knew exactly why she was here. She had no idea where she was supposed to sleep. Alfonzo, and I was pretty sure he was the one who kept London to himself, may have kept her in a basement, on the floor of a room, fuck, in a closet or cage for all I knew. I’d have liked nothing better than to wrap my piano wire around his neck and watch his eyes pop out as he struggled to breathe. And just for fun, I’d let him take a breath then take it away over and over again.
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“You may sleep in my bed for now. The guest room isn’t set up yet. When it is, you may sleep in there. The choice will be yours.”
She hesitated, biting her lower lip as if contemp
lating what I’d said. But this wasn’t about me. This was about her and she had to learn to make choices.
“You have an issue with that, tell me.”
That did something. A speck of light hit her eyes and her spine stiffened, not enough for most people to notice, but I wasn’t most people.
What I needed was that quiet rebellion. Fuck, I’d take any rebellion right about now. I wasn’t getting it, but I would eventually, even if I had to rip Raven apart to get to it. “Go to bed.”
She scuttled away and I leaned my head back again and shut my eyes.
I’d give her one week. I was being generous because being nice went against my grain. Then she was going to fight—for London.
Ice Water
IT TOOK FIVE days before she broke a rule.
I’d expected sooner, but she was meticulous and I could see her mind working on deciding what to do before she did it. The scientist in her was hard at work. Except, it was the wrong kind of fuckin’ work.
But when a glass she was putting up in the top cupboard slipped from her grip and fell to the floor shattering, she froze for a split second before dropping to her knees.
Any sympathy for Raven was pushed aside. My rules were fair and they were set up to break through what she’d endured. I’d seen the marks on the back of her thighs. I knew what they were from and coddling her wasn’t going to make her any better. She’d had months of therapy, medication and whatever else her father and medical professionals had done to try to help her. Instead, she ran away.
Now we were doing it my way and it was the way that London needed. I knew this because I’d been in hell. Maybe it was a different kind, but it was still hell.
I filled the tub with straight cold water then went to the freezer and pulled out a small bag of ice. No matter how diligent a person was, falling back into what had become a safe place… that was human nature. My safe had been not caring. Being unemotional and ignoring who I’d become.
