“Trust me, tough girl, if the situation were reversed, he’d be ridin’ the ash cloud out of this hellhole by now. Let’s go get slippery.”
20
SHADOW
I clenched my fist and cursed at the throbbing pain. I’d broken something for sure. Taking a night center stage in the arena saw me fight out two weeks’ worth of aggression, but I still felt like a caged fucking bull. I was pissed off, and apparently no amount of violence would get it out of my system. Nada, the fucking confusing, irrational woman, had me so twisted up my mood ranged from outright rage to blinding confusion to simmering fury and back again. The feelings I had for her were too much, too big.
After the display Kingsley had enforced me to submit to the night of his party, I never thought Nada would allow me to touch her again. I hadn’t fucked the whore, but I’d put my hands on her and allowed the bitch to grope my body as if she had a right to. When she leaned into my neck and sucked on the skin there, I barely restrained myself from throwing her off me. Seeing Nada watch us, with that dead gaze she wore like a protective mask, broke something inside me. Watching her walk away with such cold indifference pushed the final, lingering ounce of restraint from my body. Standing, the whore, Meg, had fallen to her ass with a painful grunt, and I’d walked away from Kingsley and his den of debauchery. Once upon a time, I enjoyed losing myself to the sex and alcohol he provided at the private functions, but not anymore. Now I belonged to someone else, and she belonged to me, and that scared the shit out of me, because it meant I now had something to lose.
It had been two weeks since I had touched Nada. The night after Kingsley’s party I reclaimed her hard and fast against the wall of her room, then a second time in her bed. That had been a slow and leisurely ride to the finish line. I’d fucked the girl like I loved her, my eyes locked on hers saying everything I wanted to say with actions rather than words. We were both left dripping with sweat and breathing hard, and from the shocked look in Nada’s eyes, she had been just as scared as I was. In that moment, we had both been hit with the realization that we cared for each other more than we should. If Kingsley found out, he wouldn’t hesitate to use such weakness against us.
The next morning, with a clear, sober head and a headache that could bring the biggest man to his knees, I told Nada about the fight Kingsley planned for her with the new inmate, Beast, as he had aptly been named.
Nada shrugged like she didn’t have a care in the world. I reacted with a lot less composure, yelling and stomping about her room like a bear with a sore tooth. I’d called her immature and foolish, and when the word ‘crazy’ slipped past my lips, she kicked me out. Forgiving a forced transgression with one of the Underworld’s whores had apparently been a walk in the park; forgiving my impulsive temper for the use of such careless names was seemingly harder.
Dejohn had her working in the gym every spare moment in an effort to prepare her for her fight, and like the cowardly bitch I was, I avoided the entire fucking circus. I hadn’t been inside her for two weeks, and my cock was a demanding steel pike twenty-four hours a day, begging to have another taste. I wanted her like I wanted fresh air to breathe, but seeing her fucking scared me. Beast was going to kill her, and that just might kill me, too.
I didn’t know how to cope with the fear, so I tried beating on anyone who’d stand to fight me. Now, I was bruised and battered with a broken hand to boot, and I was still pissed off and full of so much fear it hurt. Glaring at the bloody body before me, my stomach clenched with something else . . . hatred. This was who I was now, a man who could beat another man to death just because he didn’t say the right words. This was Paul, a fucking innocent, and I’d beaten him to death. We didn’t know if he was working with the rebels, but the letter he was caught passing to a yellow in the arena last night was pretty damn incriminating. He hadn’t even tried to write it in code in case he was caught. The words ‘the alliance meets tonight at ten’ in bold black ink was clear for all to see.
I’d been working on him for a little over two hours now, and there was nothing left to the man but blood, piss, and vomit, and with all that he’d spilled, he hadn’t whispered a word of useful information.
“Anything?”
Kingsley stood by the doorway, the immaculate fucking black suit he wore looking ridiculous. The man belonged here, he had killed to get here, but he sure as shit didn’t dress like he belonged here.
“Nada,” I growled the Spanish word for nothing and realized what I had said the second the word left my lips. Kingsley grinned but thankfully didn’t say anything about the simple word or his not so simple daughter.
“Doesn’t matter. We have a name.” I turned my back on the dead man and raised a curious brow at Kingsley, ignoring the smirk that came from Locky who stood behind him. “Regan.”
My blood went cold. In spending time with Nada, I’d come to know Regan quite well; she was a shy girl who I would ordinarily dismiss from claims of rebel association in a heartbeat. But, she hadn’t even bothered to try and be discreet in adorning Nada in mixed Underworld colors for her public appearances, and I saw the way Regan mixed with both inmates and innocents. I saw the whispered meetings in shadowed corners, and I had even followed her down to the innocent zone where she disappeared into a storage room for nearly an hour. When I slipped open the door and peeked inside, there was nothing to be found, just a small, empty fucking room. The hushed tones coming from behind a crude attempt to cover a hole in the wall confirmed she was definitely up to something. People looked at her with hope, and it was as good as a death sentence.
Her attempts to form an uprising within the Underworld had been clumsy, and I doubted it would gain momentum fast. The fact Regan meant something to Nada made me hesitate in approaching Kingsley with the information. I had every intention of taking care of it myself. A little scare would quickly shut down her plans, but it appeared I was too fucking late.
“Your source?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“While Timber was in the medical ward, he heard rumors and checked it out for himself. He’s been following the innocent. She’s been coordinating secret meetings at a converted stock room. I’ve seen the room myself. Very clever, but stupid.”
Fuck. “It doesn’t confirm a link with the rebels, just that they were meetin’ in secret. It’s probably a women’s knittin’ club, knowing Regan.”
Kingsley nodded, his shrewd, assessing gaze never leaving mine. I stood tall and didn’t so much as blink as he attempted to stare me down. He could fucking try it, but he didn’t intimidate me, and he knew it.
“We’ll find out, one way or another. How’s the girl? The pissed off mood you’ve been in lately has me guessing she’s a piss-poor lay. You should use one of the whores to blow off some steam.”
My jaw clenched, but I didn’t look away.
“Why trade for a whore when I can get it free from your daughter?”
Kingsley laughed, and the men at his side snickered. My insides churned with anger and repulsion. Anger for them, anger for me, so much fucking anger with nowhere to go was a volatile combination.
“Let me know when you’re done, Shadow. King says the girl’s free rein now, but there’s no way I’m gonna touch her while your dipping your wick in her,” Locky said with a grin. A growl rumbled from deep in my chest, and my fists clenched, the pain in my broken one nothing but a distant irritation. Kingsley had raised the no touch rule? “See what I mean,” Locky chuckled. “I’m not fussy, brother. I’ll have her when you’re done. Sloppy seconds don’t bother me none.”
Kingsley’s face had returned to a mask of astute perception as he watched me carefully.
“I’ll be sure to let you know,” I said, forcing myself to be calm.
“I’ll let you know when the innocent has been contained. I’m sure you’d like to be there for the interrogation.” Kingsley glanced at the mess over my shoulder. “Clean that up.”
I nodded. It was all I could manage as the men turned and left me
alone in that small room of stone walls and the smell of death at my back.
“Fuck!” I spat out, beginning to pace. Kingsley was getting desperate to find the rebel spies, and desperate men did desperate things. Hurting Regan would hurt Nada, and that was one girl you didn’t want to hurt. While Regan’s attempts to gain favor in an uprising were nothing but an inept attempt at anarchy, it was Nada who had the power to take down Kingsley and his kingdom. Taking out Regan would erupt a fire beneath Nada’s simmering control; she would kill Kingsley or die trying.
“Clean up this mess,” I growled at the two soldiers who stood just outside the door. “And keep it quiet,” I added as I moved through the dark corridor in search of my tough girl. I had to get to her before Kingsley found Regan.
*
Pausing at the entrance to the lower ground gym, the sound of fists pounding drew a small grin from my otherwise stony face. It sounded like Nada was beating on Dejohn, but I knew she’d be holding back, not wanting to hurt the old man. I could just picture Dejohn’s irritated face as she softened her kicks and held back her punches. He hated that she softened her training for him. Nada, though for the ice cold bitch she tried to pull off, had a warm heart and a great big soft spot for her mentor. I’d missed her, my cock hardened at the thought of sparing with her, and it became almost painful as I imagined taking her against the wall of the gym.
“King says it’s open day on his daughter, know what that means, girl?” I froze at the words that came from a familiar voice. “It means I’m gonna fuck you, and just because you broke my dick, doesn’t mean I can’t stick somethin’ in ya. And Solo here, he’s been wantin’ to pound that ass of yours for a long time.”
“Anything you stick in me I’ll cut the fuck off, then I’ll cut your fucking hands off, too, so just try it, asshole.”
“Oh, I’m gonna do more than try.”
Suddenly, my feet found momentum, my heart pounding so loud any other words were drowned out as I entered the small gym. The sight before me had bile rising in the back of my throat. I’d been here before, and darkness nearly stole the world from me as I took in the all too familiar scene. Solo and Timber had Nada restrained on the floor. Solo had her wrists pinned above her head, and Timber straddled her naked thighs, her lycra tights gathered at her feet, her top gone. All three gazes turned my way, but my eyes were glued to Nada and the blood that covered her face.
“Hey, honey, glad you could join the party,” she spat out.
Her voice might have had a pissed off jovial edge to it, but I could hear the fear that laced every word. My head turned ever so slightly to take in Solo. He, at least, had the good sense to look afraid.
“King said we could. The no touching rule’s been lifted,” Timber said in a whiny tone as he remained straddled over my woman. My eyes dropped to his hand, and I noticed the steel baton he held in a firm grip.
“That what you gonna fuck her with?” I asked, rage making it difficult to talk.
Timber smiled. “Yeah, wanna go first? Since she’s your whore, I think it’s only fair you get first dibs.”
I moved further into the room on numb legs. The pounding rage made it difficult to appear nonchalant.
“Sure,” I murmured, holding my hand out for the baton. Timber’s smile grew wider as he scooted down Nada’s legs that bucked beneath him. He handed me the baton without hesitation, his face full of unrestrained hunger.
“I’ll hold her open for you.”
That’s all it took, those six words pushed me so hard I thought I’d fall. Instead, I raised the baton and brought it down on Timber’s head with a sound that reminded me too much of the rerun baseball games my dad used to watch. Slumping like a rag doll, Timber fell to the floor, and Nada immediately began to fight Solo’s hold. She didn’t need to, though; the man scooted back and stood straight to his feet, his hands held up in supplication.
“Timber told me the king removed the no touch rule. I thought she was available.”
“You heard wrong. She’s fuckin’ mine.”
I raised the baton and aimed for Solo’s head. His forearm took the brunt of the attack, but the crack and his subsequent groan assured me something had broken. Dropping the baton, I raised my fists and began to hit him. My broken knuckle throbbed until I could no longer feel it, and Solo’s face turned to bloodied meat before my eyes. Even when he collapsed to the floor, I didn’t stop, my fists, delivering all the pent up rage living in this hell hole filled me with. Only when a hand rested on my back did I stop, flying around with my fists raised and ready to keep fighting my way out of this fucking rage.
Nada’s searching gaze found mine, and I stopped, the fight leaving my body as quickly as it filled it. I stumbled over Solo’s outstretched, unmoving legs and cupped her face. Blood from her nose was nothing but a trickle, a cut above her eye bled like a stuck pig, and the glazed, unfocused look in her eyes meant a possible concussion. But otherwise, she seemed unharmed, all except her fear which was so thick I could practically taste it. Afraid to touch her further, I could do nothing but stand there holding her face in my hands, my cracked and bleeding knuckles mixing with her blood.
Tearing my gaze away, I did a quick perusal of the room and noted her boots and knives sitting neatly on the bench at the far stone wall.
“I got sloppy,” she confessed in a quiet voice.
“Where’s Dejohn?” I asked, my voice echoing frustration and my own palpable fear.
“He was summoned. He’d only been gone a minute while I was cooling down. They caught me by surprise with the damn baton. It took me down, and once I was down, they were on me.”
She shivered, and it was then I noticed she’d managed to pull her pants back up, but her hands were making a feebly effort to cover her breasts. Whipping off my shirt, I pulled it over her head and it fell mid-thigh. Adequately covered, I stooped down and picked up her top which was torn straight down the middle. Fuckers! Glancing at the two lifeless bodies, I wanted to find one of them breathing just so I could kill them again. There was no air being drawn by either man, which disappointed me greatly. Bunching the shredded top into my fist, I shoved the bubbling anger down and held it against the cut above Nada’s eye.
I helped her into her boots, and when I tried to carry her weapons for her, she reached out and snatched the bigger of the two weapons in a fierce grip. She held it close to her chest, the black deadly blade pressing against the fabric of my shirt, held to her bosom like one might hold a baby’s head to their heart. Regardless of the fact I was there to protect her, she needed to feel she could defend herself. I got that and didn’t argue, letting her carry the knife as I whisked her out of the gym.
“I’m takin’ you to Dejohn’s.” That had been where I took her the day she’d been raped. I knew Dejohn would never hurt her, and she felt a measure of safety in his presence.
We had a medical ward that I should probably take her to, but Nada never went there. Dejohn told me she refused the medical wing after spending too much time there as a child, having her bruised, battered limbs tended to. If the callous hand of her father hadn’t been the one to harm her, there was always a bitter soul full of hate ready to do the job for him. Children were always protected in the Underworld, but Nada was the one exception to that rule. It pissed me off that I hadn’t been here to protect her then, and even more so that I hadn’t been able to protect her since I arrived.
“No, Dejohn will blow a gasket if he sees me like this.”
Taking her hand, I pulled her in the opposite direction, away from the dark gym. I’d have to get someone to take care of the bodies, but for now, I needed to take care of my woman.
21
NADA
Numb, that was the only way to describe how I felt. Coming down from the adrenaline high had left me empty. When I had been sexually and physically assaulted at sixteen, my body had initially been in too much pain to feel anything but the ravaging damage. Many weeks later, as my external and internal wounds healed, anger fi
lled the void. This time the physical pain was minimal; Timber and Solo hadn’t violated me, but all I felt was an enormous gaping hole of nothing .
Shadow leaned against the bathroom door, his ever watchful gaze on me as I washed away the dried blood. Reaching for the soap, I began to scrub my skin, trying to erase the memory of the unwanted hands on my flesh. I scrubbed until my skin began to sting, my body becoming as raw as the emptiness inside me.
A large masculine hand on mine stopped my fervent cleansing, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Shadow standing behind me. He’d already cleaned and bandaged the cut above my eye. My nose wasn’t broken, just bruised. All in all, I was lucky and miraculously in one piece, thanks to Shadow. But there was one thing missing, and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. All the emotion inside me was gone, no hate, no anger, no misery, no hope, just nothing.
“You need to take back control,” he whispered as he placed the soap on a small dish. His big, hard hands then turned me and gently pushed me until my back was against the wall. My heart kicked up a notch, but my arms remained limp noodles by my sides. “Fight me,” he demanded. I didn’t want to; I was sick to death of fighting. I just wanted to sleep. Shadow leaned forward, pressing his body against mine. The spray from the shower had thoroughly soaked him, and the warmth from his hard body beneath the wet clothes seeped into my cold skin. “Fuckin’ fight me.”
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Sensing my lack of determination, Shadow pulled away and looked down at me. Those dark eyes were full of anger and something that made me wince . . . disgust.
“You think you’re done? You think you’re the only woman down here who has been used? Suck it up, princess, or you’re just the same as those women who lie on their backs in the Whore Pit.” Like a light being flicked on, his words caused me to feel something—a spark of anger, just a small, insignificant flash. “You just gonna give up now, let them all use you, fill your holes and toss you the fuck aside when they’re done?” That small insignificant spark leapt and began to burn, like a slow building fire, in the pit of my stomach. “You just gonna be the whore they want you to be, princess?” The fire erupted into a loud, furious explosion, and I pushed. Shadow was a brick of a man, and he wouldn’t have moved unless he let me. I didn’t care. I just wanted to hurt someone, anyone, and he was the only available body around. His back slammed against the wall on the other side of the shower stall, and I brought my fist back and punched him. The hit connected with his jaw, and he grunted. Then I began to whale on him, releasing a world of anger on his body. Shadow deflected some of the blows, allowing others to make contact, but not once did he hit me back. It didn’t take long for the fire to die down; I was too tired to keep it up for long. When my fists unclenched and landed on his chest, a new emotion flooded my veins. I needed to feel something other than fear and anger. Rubbing my hands up his chest and to his broad shoulders, I gripped the back of his neck and brought his lips to mine, kissing him with the frantic need to feel in control once more. My clumsy hands reached for his shirt and tried to peel it from his body. A small whimper of frustration escaped my lips.
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