Blade (Archer's Creek Book 3)

by Gemma Weir

  Like normal I close the door behind me, then turn to face my father. His portly figure is sat in his pretentious leather library chair, behind his heavy antique desk. Like always, I look him straight in the eye. If he’s going to abuse me, he’s going to do it looking at me, seeing how much I hate him.

  His eyes take in my appearance, his gaze more appraising than any father should be of his daughter. Then his eyes flit from me, to something behind me.

  My heart starts to beat faster, and my breaths become shallower. I want to spin around and see who’s behind me, but the fear of turning my back on my father prevents me from moving. I hear the floor creak as someone takes a step closer to me, and as I twist to see who it is pain shoots through my head and my vision goes black.

  Present day

  “No,” I scream, my hands covering my ears, my eyes clenched tightly closed. Shaking my head from side to side I fight the memories, my subconscious need for self-preservation strong enough to resist my desire to confront what happened.

  Someone touches my arm and I jump, spinning around and attacking. I hit and punch and claw at anything close enough to be reached. In my frantic need to ward off my attacker my hip slams into the desk and lurching to the side I pause long enough for strong arms to band around me.

  Screaming, I fight to free myself, twisting and writhing beneath unmovable arms. “Duchess. Duchess, it’s me, stop. It’s Blade.”

  His voice permeates through my hazy mind and my body stills. My chest’s heaving and I open my mouth to try to speak. “I- I can’t.”

  My words are more of a rasp and my eyes must look crazed because Blade half guides, half carries me out of the house and into the fresh air. He waves off Eric with a growl as he approaches us, not slowing his pace until we’ve crossed the street and come to a stop beneath the shadow of a tall oak tree.

  Turning me away from the house, he bends until his face is level with mine. “Deep, slow breaths. In and out.”

  Gasping for air, I shake my head, but he clamps his hands around my face and forces me to look at him. “In and out. Just like I’m doing, okay? In and out.”

  I try to match my breathing to his, his warm brown eyes never leaving mine. When my chest stops burning and the ringing in my ears recedes, Blade releases me.

  “Sit,” he says softly, pointing at the grass at the base of the tree.

  Incapable of disagreeing with him, I slide down the trunk of the tree until my ass is on the grass. He follows suit and for a moment we just sit there, side by side.

  “You okay?” he asks, breaking the silence.

  “No. I’m not okay,” I reply, being the most honest I’ve been with myself since the day I left this house over two years ago.

  Blade opens his mouth to speak, but I interrupt him. “I went in there that day.”

  I expect him to react, to ask questions, but he doesn’t and so I fill the silence, needing to say it, needing to admit what happened.

  “I’m not sure what he did to my sister, but when he used to punish me he’d make me go to his office. The rest of the time we weren’t allowed in there, so I always knew if he called me there then it was going to be bad.”

  I pause waiting for a reaction, but when there’s none, I continue. “That day, I was knocked out. He watched while he did it; he sat at his desk and watched.” The words blurt out of my mouth so fast they barely make sense.

  For the first time, I turn and look at Blade. His face is a mask, no emotions give anything away. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes ask a thousand questions.

  “They hit me in the side of the head and when I woke up, I was bent over his desk. The pain was so bad, and he just sat behind his desk, his cock in his hand, and watched.”

  Blades eyes widen, and I see the moment when understanding starts to dawn.

  “I don’t remember much of it because I drifted in and out of consciousness. I never even saw his face, but I felt his breath on the back of my neck and I heard his voice while he moaned and grunted as he raped me. Every time I woke up and realized what was happening I’d fight. I swear I fought, but he held me down. He was so heavy he pinned me so I couldn’t move and slammed my head onto the desk and then everything would go black again. I don’t know how long it took, but I woke up four times and the only person I saw the whole time was him, my fucking father, the honorable mayor. He sat there while a man held me down and raped me and he was smiling, enjoying it.”

  Once the words are out, I stare at him, waiting. I’ve never told anyone what happened. I’ve barely acknowledged it to myself and yet here I am telling a virtual stranger, someone I don’t even like.

  I wait for pity or sympathy, or disgust, but Blade doesn’t offer any of those things. Lifting my hand from the ground he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it. “Did you go to the police?”

  I shake my head. “The day it happened, my father came to my room after. I was bleeding and broken and he told me that no one would ever believe me. He told me he had made sure they both had alibis, that there was no evidence because he’d used a condom, and that if the police asked he would tell them I was a slut who probably liked it rough.”

  Blade growls, and the sound is so fucking dark I shiver instinctually.

  “I wish your dad was alive, so I could kill him. Who was the other guy? If you tell me who it was, I’ll find them, and I’ll kill them.” His expression doesn’t alter, he just waits for a name.

  “He’s already dead,” I say, dispassionate and monotone.

  “You knew him?”

  I nod. “He was one of my father’s friends, I recognized his voice. He killed himself a week after it happened.”

  “Good,” Blade says. “You want to go back in?”

  “No.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “It happened, I can’t change that. They’re both dead now,” I say.

  Blade reaches up and strokes a finger along the line of my jaw. “Death comes for us all in the end. Those who deserve it find peace; and those who don’t face an eternity damned, to be tormented by the consequences of their actions.”

  I turn to face him more fully. “So what you’re saying is, that right now my father and the man who raped me are spending eternity being bent over and fucked hard up the ass.” A smile twitches at the edge of my lips and a broken chuckle echoes through my chest.

  His face softens, and he starts to chuckle too. “I really fucking hope so, Duchess. I really fucking do.”

  Leaning back against the tree, I close my eyes and laugh loud and long, and the sound is so ridiculous I can’t help but smile wider.

  “You gonna buy this house?” Blade asks.

  “God, no.”

  “Good. I’ll go tell your man over there and then I’ll take you home.”

  The car ride back to Nikki’s house is silent. She seems calm and almost resolved, like confronting that house and that room silenced the demons that had been tormenting her and now she’d found peace, at least for the moment.

  I’m not calm. I want to dig up her parents’ bodies and kill them all over again. Her fucking father had watched while she was raped. Worse, he’d got off on someone raping her. What kind of human being gets their kicks watching someone getting violated, while she was unconscious and unable to fight back?

  My fingers itch with the need to punch something. I wish I’d killed him. I wish I’d been the one to hold a gun to his head and pull the trigger. But a quick death would have been too good for that fucking bastard. I’d have dragged it out, made it long and painful, made him know that his death was payback for treating his daughters the way he had.

  I want to reach out and take her hand. She doesn’t need my support, but I want to give it to her anyway. I want to hold her in my arms and shelter her, but Nikki doesn’t need to be sheltered or protected. She isn’t sweet and innocent like Dove. Nikki is a whirlwind, a force to be reckoned with. She doesn’t need sympathy and kid gloves. She’s like me, she needs action and r
edemption.

  Pulling up outside her house, I kill the engine, pull her keys from the ignition and climb out, then I walk around to her side just as she opens her door and exits. I start to reach for her and then think better of it. Instead I walk to her front door and use her keys to open it for her.

  Watching me curiously, she blinks at me, surprised, and then walks past me and into her house. I follow behind her, closing the front door and heading toward the back of the house and her kitchen.

  “Beer?” she asks, pulling open the refrigerator and taking out two bottles.

  Nodding, I take the beer from her outstretched hand and twist the top off. She mimics my actions, lifting the bottle to her lips and swallowing almost half of it at once. I watch as she lowers the bottle, then wipes her lips with the back of her hand. When her eyes fall to me there’s a hint of something in her depths. Desperation perhaps?

  “What’s your name?” she asks suddenly, shattering the silence.

  After everything she’s told me today, I feel like I should be making sure she’s okay, that her past hasn’t fucked her up beyond redemption. But Nikki’s not weak and she obviously hasn’t let the rape ruin her life. Right then I decide that this woman is amazing, so strong and so fucking resilient. So I do what feels natural with my Duchess, I bait her. “Blade,” I reply with a grin.

  “I’m not calling you Blade. It’s the most ridiculous nickname for a grown man.”

  “That’s all I’ve been called for the last ten years,” I offer with a smirk.

  “I don’t care. Either you tell me your real name, or I’m going to start calling you Colin.”

  Barking out a laugh, I take a swig of my beer. “Why Colin?”

  “It’s an old guy name,” she says with a shrug.

  “Duchess, I’m not that fucking old.”

  “Whatever you say, Colin,” she says with a mocking raise of her eyebrows.

  “Cam, my name is Cam. Fuck me, don’t ever call me Colin again,” I growl.

  Her head tilts to the side and her eyes run up and down the length of me. “Huh, Cam. That’s a good name. So much better than fucking Blade. Where the hell did that come from anyway?”

  “I’m good with a knife,” I say.

  Her eyes narrow, “Bullshit.”

  “What?” I ask innocently.

  “That’s not why you got that nickname, is it?”

  Smirking, I take another pull on my bottle of beer, finishing it while she glares at me expectantly, her one hand rested on her hip. “I might have had a thing for vampire movies back then.”

  “Ha,” she shouts triumphantly. “I totally called it.”

  I smile at her, glad she seems okay and not too traumatized by the events of the day. Her cellphone rings and placing her beer down on the counter she pulls it from her purse and answers it.

  “Hello.”

  She pauses, obviously listening to the person on the other end of the call.

  “Oh hi, Trish.”

  Turning, her eyes lock with mine and she watches me watch her.

  “Yes, that price is great, thank you so much.”

  A smile spreads across her face.“That’s great news, can you send me the paperwork across? Wow, that would be fantastic.”

  Her eyes twinkle with excitement and I instinctively take a step closer to her.

  “Yes, I can do that. Yes that’s perfect. Thank you so much. Okay, bye now.”

  Ending the call, she places her cell down onto the counter and looks back to me, a gloriously bright smile changing her face completely. “I got the house and for an absolute steal.”

  Without thinking about what I’m doing, I rush forward, lift her into the air and twirl her around. She squeals, laughing excitedly.

  “Congratulations, Duchess,” I say, slowly lowering her to the ground, her body still pressed close to mine.

  “Thank you, Cam,” she replies, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

  Our eyes lock and I watch as her pupils dilate and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. “Duchess.” The moment the word has left my lips I lower my head and take her mouth with mine.

  Our lips smash together in a wild, unrestrained kiss, and for one long glorious moment we allow ourselves to be consumed by the spark that has been simmering between us since yesterday morning when I kissed her outside Daisy and Dove’s apartment. I fucking want her. I want to own her delicious, inked body and take her unapologetically, fueled by the annoyance and frustration we seem to bring out in each other.

  Her hands claw at my back and neck, and she kisses me back just as furiously as I kiss her. She pushes her tits into my chest and her pussy against my hard cock as she twines herself around me, as close as she can get. Gripping her ass, I encourage her to climb my body. I want her as close as possible. I want to hold her perfect curves and consume the pure unbridled lust that flows between us.

  The ringing of her cell phone shatters our lust-fueled haze and with a gasp she pushes at my chest. I release her and she stumbles, catching herself on the counter before she fumbles to answer her cell.

  Turning away, my cock rock hard and pushing against my jeans, I stride across the kitchen and pull another two beers from the refrigerator. Placing one next to her on the counter, I cross to the other side of the kitchen, needing to force some distance between us. I crack open my bottle, taking a deep pull.

  I force myself to ignore her voice and concentrate on calming my erratic heartbeat and adjusting my hard cock inside my jeans. Looking up a moment later, I watch her hold the cell to her ear with one hand and reach up and untwine her hair from the messy bun that had been pinned on top of her head with the other. She runs her fingers through her wild red locks and my cock twitches excitedly. Ending her call, she places her cell into the back pocket of her shorts and then slowly raises her eyes to me.

  Common sense and desire war for supremacy, we frustrate each other, but for some reason I just can’t seem to stay away. Today’s revelations weren’t at all what I was expecting. I knew something big must have happened to drive Nikki to run away and start her life over, but I couldn’t have imagined what actually happened.

  A grudging sense of respect washes over me as I stare at her. She survived, and she’s a fucking millionaire. She might be an uptight, angry bitch, but maybe she has every right to be. A spark of an idea starts to bloom in my mind. Nikki’s asshole of a father is dead, but maybe there’s something I can do to help her finally bury the past.

  “I’ll be back at midnight,” I say, placing my half-full beer on the sink and striding to the front door.

  “What?” Nikki cries, a flash of disappointment crossing her expression as I pass her.

  “Midnight, Duchess. Be ready in jeans and boots,” I shout over my shoulder as I reach the front door and throw it open. Striding over to her car, I pull her keys from my pocket, jump in and start the engine just as she opens the front door.

  “Cam, get the fuck out of my car,” she shouts angrily.

  “I need to get back to my bike. I’ll have Daisy bring it back in an hour or so.”

  “Don’t you dare fucking scratch her. I swear to God, I will fuck you up if you put a single scratch on my baby.”

  “I’ll treat her good, Duchess, don’t you worry,” I say with a wink as I pull away from her house. My cock twitches in disappointment as I watch her sexy body get smaller in the rear-view mirror and I wonder for a second why I’m about to do what I’m about to do, for a woman I don’t particularly like.

  Eight hours later, I pull up outside her house again and kill the engine on the van I’ve driven from the compound. Climbing out, I knock on her front door and wait for her to answer. A moment later the door opens, and an annoyed looking Nikki cocks her hip to the side and glares at me in greeting. “Duchess,” I say with a smirk.

  “You used a full tank of gas. Where the fuck did you go in my car? If the police come knocking on my door and tell me my car has been used in a robbery, I’m going to kill you.”
>
  With a smirk, I push open the door and walk past her and into her kitchen while she follows behind still glaring at me. “You ready?” I ask.

  “Ready for what? And whose is the van?”

  “I had an idea I think you’ll like, and the van belongs to the club—the girls use it for the groceries and when we have to go get stuff too big to carry on our bikes.”

  She seems to think about that for a moment and then nods her head, almost to herself.

  “Boots, Duchess. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where you’re taking me,” she demands, her hands on her hips and her lips twisted into a determined scowl.

  Striding toward her, I lean forward and claim her lips with mine. I kiss her until we’re both breathless and filled with desire. “Well now, baby, you can either go get your boots and come with me, or I can stay here with you and we can pick up where we left off this afternoon. I’m more than happy to have you rubbing that wet pussy of yours against my dick again if you want. Your choice.”

  She glares at me and I smile broadly, enjoying how annoyed she gets when I bait her. Her eyes narrow for a moment and then she turns on her heel and strides into the hall, opening a closet and pulling out a pair of knee-high, black leather boots.

  Chuckling, I follow her into the hall and bend down to whisper into her ear. “Good choice, Duchess.”

  Her shudder is visible, and my cock pushes painfully against the metal zipper on my jeans. I might be teasing Nikki, but I’m torturing myself at the same time. “This is gonna be fun,” I say, as she leads the way through the front door and I follow, closing the door behind us.

  We climb into the van and she sits silently as I drive us the few miles back into Archer’s Creek. Parking the van in a small clearing of woods, I jump out and head to the back doors, pulling them open and grabbing the small leather wrap of tools and the rucksack from the back seat.