Their Will be Done: A Dark New Adult Reverse Harem Romance (The Sinners of Saint Amos Book 2)

by Logan Fox

  “She’s messing with all of our heads,” Cass whispers. “Let’s get her out of here. We don’t need her.”

  “You need her,” I counter, bringing that glowing ember closer to his eye. His cheek lights up faintly but he doesn’t even bat a fucking eyelid.

  “Do we?” He shrugs and lays his hand casually over the stiff arm pinning him against the wall. “I thought we didn’t need anyone.”

  “Just tell me where it is,” I say through my teeth. I hate how my voice shakes, but I’m past the point of being able to control it.

  “That shit’s like slapping a fucking Hello Kitty band-aid on a gunshot wound,” he says. His voice drops low. “Come on, Zach.”

  He’s right, and that makes me feel even more pathetic for allowing myself to be caught between shame and guilt and utter desperation. “I just need—”

  “I know what you need,” Cass cuts in quietly. “And I told you before, all you gotta do is ask.”

  His hand slips off my arm. Fabric rustles. Then he grabs hold of the hand holding my glowing cigarette. “Just not the face, bro. That’s my moneymaker.”

  I clamp down on a near-hysterical bark of a laugh as I let him guide my hand down.

  “We should try for a smiley face. Nirvana style. What do you say?” His voice is tight, light, steady.

  I don’t know how the fuck he so easily accepts my breakdowns.

  “Fuck,” I grate, squeezing my eyes shut so I can’t see that tempting glowing ash. “Cass, no.”

  “Come on, you pussy. I’ve had worse.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Jesus, the tension’s killing me,” he says through a grin I can hear but not see.

  So fucking easy for him. For them. I should never have drawn the short straw. Rube would have made a better leader than me any day. Any of them would have. But it was me. So I had to man-up and fucking lead them.

  “You know it’s the worst part, right? The waiting? You fucking know it, Zach. So just do it, you cunt.”

  He guides my hand lower and closer, until my knuckles graze his bare skin where he’s hiking up his shirt. I trail his skin with the pad of my thumb. My chest is so tight I can barely breathe, and what little air does come in feels like I’m sucking it from a fucking chimney.

  Hot. Full of ash.

  “Fuck,” I say again, trying to ignore the erection straining against my jeans. Pain and pleasure—I’ve never had one without the other.

  “Cass—”

  “Just fucking do it,” he grates.

  My thumb skims over a puckered burn mark. Then another. Another.

  “There.” He sounds as breathless as I feel. “Right there.”

  “Christ.”

  My lungs fill with powdered brimstone as I press the tip of the cigarette into his flesh.

  He stiffens, letting out a short, soft gasp. Then he shoves me so hard I fall back and land on my ass. I’m anticipating the boot heading for my stomach, but that just makes the impact ten times worse.

  My breath rushes out in a pained grunt I can’t possibly keep quiet. I roll onto my side, curling up as he kicks me again. Then he’s gone, orange light blooming against the back of my eyelids before the room goes dark again.

  I open my fingers and let the crumpled cigarette fall out. Then I bring my hand close and lick off the streak of ash smeared over my palm.

  The almost constant ache in my wrists and ankles fades away as I lie there listening to Apollo tapping out a beat for Trinity as she dances for Reuben.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Sounds like the leaking pipe in the back of the basement, doesn’t it, Mason?

  The pain makes it easier to push away the voice.

  And that’s always been the case, even back then.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Chapter Nine

  Trinity

  It has to be the weed. Or the booze. Something’s doing weird, weird shit to my brain. That bit in a Disney movie where a magical light zooms around the heroine and lifts her up? That’s me right now. It feels like I’m suspended inches from the floor, a glittering aura whirling around me.

  In my wildest dreams I would never have imagined anything could feel this good. This…right.

  Reuben’s got one hand around the back of my neck, the other at the small of my back. Using his hands and body, he guides me.

  Moments later, faint noises in the background clamor for my attention but they sound wrong and violent so I push them out of my mind.

  This…this is the complete opposite.

  “See?” Reuben murmurs into my ear. “And you thought you couldn’t do it.”

  I wasn’t about to tell him I’d danced before. A lot. My mirror had been my only audience, and my worst critic. For all I know, I probably looked a right idiot back then as I swayed to my own quiet humming.

  I’d really hoped to use my feminine wiles to strike a deal with these men, but I guess I still have a lot to learn about the art of seduction.

  Also, dancing for an actual audience is much harder than watching yourself in a mirror. So much so, I hadn’t even known where to start.

  Reuben saved me.

  This whole time I’d had my hands at my side, limply moving along with my arms. But as soon as Reuben’s breath brushes my skin, I suck in a breath and force myself to reach out and touch him.

  My fingers trace the outlines of his perfectly sculpted muscles. I tilt my head back and open my eyes. They flutter and then go wide in surprise.

  Reuben’s glaring at me.

  He stops moving, and snatches my wrists together in one meaty hand. “What are you doing?” he demands in a low voice.

  “I was just…I thought we were…”

  Movement draws my gaze away.

  Cass storms out of the curtained area of the room, a hand on his stomach like he’s sick. The snarl on his face sends a chill through me, but as soon as he looks up and sees me, it disappears.

  My mouth opens to ask him what’s wrong, but by then everything’s moving too fast.

  “Enough of this bullshit foreplay,” he grates out, whipping his hand away from his stomach. He points straight at me and advances so fast that I wheel back from him with a stifled yell.

  He grabs my arm before I have a chance to get away, and throws me into the armchair I’d been sitting in.

  I gasp—more in shock at how fucking strong he is than in actual pain. Then he’s on top of me, straddling my waist and yanking my dress up my legs.

  Cool air caresses my upper thighs as he hikes my skirt up my hips. Since my panties are still in Zachary’s tin box, there’s nothing to shield me from the dark lust gleaming in his eyes.

  “Stop!” I yell. I start bashing at him with my fists, but he knocks my arms away with a flick of his hand, the other going to his belt.

  “Keep singing that pretty song, little blackbird.”

  The hair on my arms stands up straight. His voice is low, rough, and has an English accent, like he’s mimicking someone.

  What. The. Fuck?

  The button on his jeans pops open with a twist of his hand.

  I scream, my fists turning into claws. He grimaces, now straining to keep back my attack while working his fly. I buck my hips to try and shake him off, but that just makes him laugh.

  Why is no one stopping him?

  Mother of God—are they just going to watch?

  I obviously put up too much of a fight. Cass grabs my hair, wrenches back my head, and slaps me.

  A shock wave coruscates through my skull. My vision swims with tears. My face goes numb. I blink hard, sending those tears down my cheeks.

  I watch in dumbstruck silence as Reuben rips Cass off my lap and throws him against the wall like he weighs nothing. Zachary appears by the curtain, but his head hangs low, and there’s a strange set to his mouth.

  My Disney movie has just turned into a horror show.

  Reuben’s got Cass against the wall, his arm pressed to his throat. Cass’
s face reddens, but he doesn’t fight back.

  He’s fucking grinning at Reuben.

  Reuben’s muscles bulge beneath his shirt as he uses his arm to shove Cass a couple of inches up the wall.

  But there aren’t any blows exchanged. He’s just restraining him. Zachary lumbers over and tries to pull Reuben off. Reuben doesn’t even shift.

  A cool hand slips around my wrist and tugs. My neck feels stiff as I turn to look at Apollo. I’m dimly aware that I’m exposed, but my hand’s shaking too much for me to successfully pull down the hem of my dress.

  “Let’s go someplace else, yeah?” Apollo says, smiling so calmly you’d swear he hasn’t noticed someone was about to get murdered. “Come on. I wanna show you something.”

  When I don’t move, he dips his head a bit and then presses a quick peck to my slap-stained cheek. “There. All better now.”

  Again he tugs at my wrist.

  Somehow I stand.

  He leads me out of the lair just as I hear the thump of flesh on flesh and hear Cass groan in pain.

  What. The. Fuck?

  Bright sunlight bathes my face when we leave the crypt. Apollo hangs back at the doorway, his hair shifting as he checks left and right.

  There’s no one in sight, but he still seems hesitant to leave the shadows and step into the light.

  Vampire.

  I laugh at the ridiculous thought, and Apollo throws a concerned look at me over his shoulder as he starts toward the dormitory.

  “Okay there, pretty thing?”

  I giggle at him.

  “Sorry…it got a bit rough in there,” he says. We’re walking at a brisk pace, his fingers handcuffed around my wrist. “They’ll calm down. A few punches and they always do. Like Fight Club, right? And shit, how was that cinematography? Did you know Cronenweth deliberately underexposed the actors’ faces to force the audience to pay more attention in each shot?”

  I say nothing, instead willing the world to stop bobbing up and down so hectically. I couldn’t have had more to drink than yesterday, but yesterday I’d had a good long nap before I’d attempted to walk anywhere.

  Now I feel like everything I’ve consumed today has only just kicked in. I feel like I’m walking on a trampoline an inch off the ground. And every time I shift my eyes even a little, the world blurs.

  “I’m drunk,” I announce.

  “That’s the spirit,” Apollo replies without slowing. “Nice day for it, too.”

  I finally find it in me to pull back. “No. I mean…really drunk.” I sway as soon as we come to a halt, and he steps forward to steady me by slinging an arm around my waist.

  “Easy there,” he says and then starts walking again. “There’s nothing to it, see? You just keep your eyes on something that’s not moving. Like the bell tower. Can you see it?”

  My head tilts back.

  Fuck, that’s a big building.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Just keep looking at that. I’ll make sure you don’t step on any snakes.”

  “Snakes?” My head bobs forward, and I stumble as the world takes a slow somersault. “Fuck.”

  “Sorry, bad joke. No snakes. Holes. That’s what I’ll keep an eye out for. Just holes.”

  “Holes,” I agree, tilting my head back again. “Who rings the bell?”

  “Not a hunchback, that’s for sure.”

  I giggle like a fucking idiot at that. Cool shadows replace the sun, and I sag in relief. “Made it.”

  “Not yet, pretty thing. Should I carry you?”

  I snort. “You can’t carry me.”

  “Bitchy much?”

  The world spins around me. I’m looking up Apollo’s face, his victorious grin partially hidden behind a few locks of hair.

  “You jus’ call me a bitch?” I demand.

  “Keep your voice down,” he says. “And yes. Because you’re being one.”

  I snort again. “You’re a…you’re an asshole. You all are.”

  “Quiet,” he warns in a low voice, his hair shifting as he glances left and right. My teeth click together as he starts up the staircase. “Or I’ll take you back to your room.”

  I hesitate, my head bobbing against the crook of Apollo’s arm as he hurries up the stairs with me. My room? Jasper might be there? I grimace. I’m too drunk to deal with him. Or not drunk enough.

  “Here,” Apollo says. He sets me down and props me against the wall like a broom as he fishes in his pockets. He takes out a bunch of keys. The keychain used to be a furry cat face. Now it’s grubby as fuck. While he looks for the right key, I start to slide down the wall. He props me back up with an absent tug on the shoulder of my dress and then herds me inside the room.

  “Hey! I’ve been here before!” I head for the closest chair.

  “Sure have.”

  When I sit down, I see he’s leaving. “Hey, where are you going?”

  He pauses at the door, turning to me. But then he closes the door without answering.

  And locks it.

  I sit up a little straighter and stay conscious, remember that I’m too drunk to give a shit, and pass out on the couch.

  Chapter Ten

  Zach

  My jaw pulses, the heat emanating from within a stark contrast to the ice pack pressed against my bruised flesh.

  “Shit, man. We can’t let anyone see you like this,” Apollo says.

  “No fucking shit,” I snap, squinting over at him. I click my fingers at the tumbler he’s supposed to be filling for me, and he hesitates only a second before filling it with whiskey.

  “Is this going to mess with the plan?”

  “I don’t know, Apollo,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “How about you ask Cass the next time you see him?”

  “Man, you can’t blame him for this.”

  I slam my fist into the arm of my wooden chair. “The fuck I can’t.”

  “Here.” Apollo hurries over with my glass. I drain it and hand it back.

  “Just give me the fucking bottle.”

  “Yeah, right,” he laughs, skipping back and snatching the bottle away like he honestly thought I was in any state to tackle him for it.

  Besides the two solid kicks Cass got in earlier, he punched me in the jaw, the groin, and my fucking kidneys. Twice. Because by that time, Reuben had hurried off to check if Trinity was okay, not giving a fuck who survived the fight.

  Cass has always been like a fucking rat in a corner. You wouldn’t think he was even capable of throwing a punch, and then you’re lying on your back wondering why the stars had come out in the middle of the fucking day.

  All because I’d held back.

  Because I’d thought Trinity was still in the room.

  Watching. Judging.

  I thump the wood again, wishing the arm would break and growling when it doesn’t.

  “She’s done.” I shake my head and point at Apollo as I breathe through a wave of pain. “Too much fucking trouble. Tomorrow, you take my car, you throw her in the trunk, and you fucking—”

  “What, Zach?” Apollo cuts in with a snort, shaking his head at me. “We tell Gabriel his girl child wandered into the woods and got et by bears?” His lips twitch and he smooths his fingers over his mouth as if he could wash away his words.

  A dark smile slowly spreads over my face. “I knew you weren’t just a pretty face.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Trinity

  I wake up to the sound of muffled voices and intense nausea. Pushing up to my elbows, I scan my dark surroundings to try and figure out where I am. This can’t be my room. There are too few lumps in the mattress. The sheets are too soft. And it smells like Reuben, not mothballs.

  Reuben.

  Shit, I’m in his room. His bedroom.

  And I need to puke.

  I slide off the bed onto wobbly legs. The room is so dark that I hit my knee against the side of the bed as I head for the glowing outline of the door.

  It opens before I can reach it. Reuben’s silhou
ette blocks out almost all the light.

  “Bathroom,” I say in a tight voice.

  He grabs my shoulder and herds me out of the room. Everything’s a blur until I reach the bathroom, where all I can focus on is the toilet.

  Thank God he opens the lid for me, because I barely bend over before I puke.

  Fingers brush my temples, drawing my hair away from my face. A large, cool hand caresses the back of my neck as I puke out my guts, stomach lining, and a lung.

  I finally rock back on my heels. Reuben’s holding out a washcloth for me.

  Deliciously warm.

  I wipe my face with it and stand on shaky legs. He points to the basin. There’s a bottle of mouthwash there, the sink already filling with more warm water.

  “We’ll be outside,” he says, turning to the doorway.

  Apollo moves aside as Reuben approaches.

  I clean myself and the bathroom as well as I can and try to ignore the fact that I still feel tipsy. When I step into the living area of Reuben’s room, the smell of coffee hits my nose.

  I still can’t believe seniors get an accommodation like this if their grades are good enough. I guess Father Gabriel really wants me to work my way up from the bottom.

  Apollo brings me a cup. “Cream and two sugars.”

  I can’t help but smile. It’s sweet that he still remembers how I take it, although the day he saw me putting in sugar I’d given myself a double dose.

  Hell, I probably still need the energy. Maybe this will become my regular serving from now on.

  “What time is it?” I ask, glancing around. The lights are on and the curtains are drawn, but it doesn’t feel like it’s night time yet.

  “Five,” Reuben says. He’s sitting on one of the two couches that make up his living area. “Come sit.”

  His quiet command makes my hackles rise. I glance at Apollo with raised brows, but he just gives me his usual lopsided smile. “We need to talk,” he says. Then he goes and fetches another two cups of coffee, handing one to Reuben before sitting down beside him.

  Thank God. I’m not sure if I would dare to sit beside any of them after what happened in the library. My chest goes tight just thinking about what Cass had tried to do.