Cursed Angels

by Edwards, Anna

  “You don’t remember anything?”

  “You aren’t getting it, are you? I don’t give a shit about what happened in the past. This is the man I am now, Rebekah. I’m your employee. I’ve had my fucking dick inside you before, yet you don’t trust me. You put a chip in my head which controlled me. It made me do things at your order.” I bring my fist up and slam it into the wall. The plaster shatters underneath, and I savor the pain. It reminds me I’m me again.

  “It was part of the plan to develop the business. You were only a kid then. It had to be done. I saw the potential in you, and I’ve asked for it to be removed several times, but the doctors were concerned about what would happen if they did.”

  “Well, you can tell them nothing happened.”

  “What?”

  “The chip's gone.”

  She pales.

  “How?”

  “You don’t need to know. All you need to understand now is that in front of you is Archer King, the man in charge of discipline and security. A person you need to fucking trust, because if I find out you pull any other moves like that, then you’ll regret it.”

  She gulps when I storm over to where she still sits on the floor.

  “What you see is what you get, Rebekah. I was a killer before you put the chip in my head. It’s what I was brought up to be. I lost my conscience the day my parents died. This, for fuck’s sake, is my life. You think I’m going to walk away from it? From the elegant suits, the money, the pussy?” I force a smirk onto my lips at the last comment.

  “But. What about . . .?” she pauses. “You really remember nothing but what you are?”

  “A trained killer,” I answer, knowing she was about to question my memories of Samara.

  “The trail you were on. Who was it?”

  God, help me for what I’m about to do.

  “A bitch. She said she was once here. She seemed to know me, but I’ve no recollection of her. She’s after revenge. If I hadn’t had a sudden migraine, you would have her head on a platter in front of you right now.” I shrug with annoyance.

  “We have to get her. Put a stop to whatever she’s planning.”

  “Don’t worry. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Rebekah gets to her feet and places her hand on my broad chest.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to stop them from using the chip. They thought you might be hurt or turn against us if it stopped working. You were too valuable of a commodity to lose.”

  I snort. “Commodity. That was your mistake, Rebekah, I’m just as bad as you are. Money and power motivate me. I want this as much as you do.”

  She goes to kiss me, but I back away.

  “Archer?”

  “Not happening. You broke my trust. Going to be a while before you get back in my bed again. I’m not certain that while I’m sleeping, you won’t drug me and stick another chip in my head.” I raise a suspicious eyebrow at her, and she lowers her head with some semblance of guilt.

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Still not letting you suck my dick. You better buy a vibrator, Rebekah, because I’m going to be a very busy man for a while. I’ve got a job to do and a bitch to bring to task.”

  I push her out of the way and prepare to storm out of the room. I’m done with this conversation, and if I’m in the presence of this woman for much longer, I’m likely to slip and kill her. I needed this scene to convince her that I’m just as bad as she is. It makes me sick that I need to lie this way. The chip being removed from my head brought back so many memories of what I’ve done with my life. I know that I’ll need to repeat some of those acts before this is over, but at least I finally have control over my body now. They would’ve realized when I didn’t lose chunks of my memory the chip was gone, and that would have caused too many problems as Samara, Hunter, and I bring down this institution from the inside. Everything is out in the open now. I can destroy with a clear conscience.

  “Archer, wait,” Rebekah calls out. “You wanted proof I trust you.”

  I turn and cock my head at her. “Go on.”

  “There’s a new shipment. The boys have been sent for training . . .” She pauses. “And chipping.”

  “Good.”

  I make to leave again, knowing she’s going to give them to me to train as some sort of loyalty test. That could be to my benefit though. Educate them, just not in the way she expects.

  “Wait. There was a girl in the shipment. She’s in the dungeon and needs breaking in. She’s all yours. My gift as an apology.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter 25

  Samara

  He’s gone. He’s been gone for a good five hours and twenty-four minutes, and I’m climbing the walls. I’m driving Hunter nuts. He’s been sighing at me all day, and I’ve been admonishing myself. The fear of Archer being captured, locked up when they find out he no longer has his chip, is something that’s been bothering me.

  “Mara,” Hunter’s voice calls to me from the kitchen. Turning to him, I find him leaning against the doorjamb staring at me. “He’ll be fine. He’s been in that place all his life.”

  “That’s the problem, Hunt.” Sighing, I face him fully. “There’s nothing in that hellhole for him. If they find out he’s no longer got the chip, she could kill him.”

  “She being Diana’s sister.” He’s right. The woman who trained us, who turned us into the vigilante’s we are, was related to the scum who now runs The Factory. “We need to figure out what else she knew,” Hunter says, stalking my way. “Diana’s records are all on the hard drive. I’m sure we can find something that can help us. A weakness of some sort.”

  We spend our day looking, searching through Diana’s files. I’m about to give up when my gaze flicks over information I haven’t seen before.

  “Look at this,” I tell Hunter, shoving the pages toward him. I keep my gaze trained on him as he scans the document. When he finally lifts head, I know we’re having the same thought.

  “We need to find the other sister,” he tells me, which has me nodding in agreement. Three sisters — one being Diana, one Rebekah, and the third a mystery woman who can possibly help us. Nothing is certain, but it’s worth a try.

  My computer beeps, the location device on the graveyard alerting us of someone in the cemetery. When Hunter pulls up the camera, I see Archer leaning in, his hand on Diana’s grave, then I notice him place something in the ground.

  “What is he doing?” I question, and Hunter shakes his head in response. Archer digs up the sand, shoving the white object into the hole, then covers it up quickly. He’s dressed all in black, a large gun in his holster, and when he turns, his eyes find the camera as if he knows I’m watching.

  He offers one slight nod, then he’s out of the screenshot. My heart catapults into my chest, and I’m on my feet in seconds.

  “We have to go,” I tell Hunter, who’s pulling on his leather jacket, and we’re making our way out the cabin moments later. I let Hunter drive, because my hands are shaking far too much for me to focus on anything other than what Archer has left for us to find. My heart, though, is filled with relief because I know he’s alive. Dark thoughts filtered into my mind thinking they’d hurt him, that they’d lock him up and torture him for losing the chip.

  When we pull up to the cemetery, I’m out of the car in seconds and racing to Diana’s grave. The earth that’s been disturbed is the only clue he’s been there. I dig up the sand and find a small bottle. It’s plastic with a screw top. Without thinking, I open it to find a piece of paper scrunched inside.

  A letter.

  I open it quickly and find Archer’s handwriting on the lined page.

  She knows the chip is out, but I’ve convinced her I haven’t remembered anything. They have a new shipment that’s arrived, and there was a girl in the container. I’ve been tasked to break this girl. Mara, my love, only you will know what this means.

  There’s no way I can do it with a clear conscience. I have until Friday midday to do
it. We need to move quickly. I don’t have much time before Rebekah starts questioning why I’m not my normal self. I need you, Mara. Now more than ever.

  Yours,

  Archer

  My heart aches. It feels as if there’s barbed wire twined around it, tugging painfully, causing my breath to catch and my lungs to fight to bring in air. I don’t know how quickly we can find the third sister, but Archer needs me, and I’m not letting him down.

  Hunter’s hand on my shoulder offers a squeeze of comfort, but I know nothing will calm me until we’ve taken the lot of them down. I want to watch that organization burn to the ground, and I’ll bask in its ashes.

  Chapter 26

  Archer

  The tight ache in my chest threatens to explode into something more violent the longer I stand looking at the naked girl in front of me. She can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, and her porcelain skin is already littered with deep purple contusions. I don’t doubt the people who brought her here would’ve taken great delight in inflicting her wounds and possibly worse. I know their minds. I’ve been there. The darkness which descends can’t be controlled. I’d learned more about the implanted chips this morning during a discussion with Rebekah. Most of the soldiers have them now. It's made training easier, apparently, because it takes humanity out of the equation.

  The men around me, the ones who brought this terrified girl here, are nothing but robotic killers. One flick of a switch and they forget everything. I can't make my mind up whether it's a blessing or a curse. I see every kill I've carried out in my head. It will haunt my sleep for eternity. I've done bad things, terrible, disgusting acts, which brings bile rising to my throat every time I think about them. The only act of murder I will ever commit again is to wrap my hands around Rebekah Ward's neck and strangle the life from her.

  I have two days. Two long days in which I need to fool Miss Ward into thinking I'm breaking the girl in front of me, but secretly I'll be keeping her safe. I've already laid down the law that I'm the only person who will be allowed in the room with her. I can't risk a soldier getting too excited at the prospect of a new girl and taking what he wants from her. The bruising I see between her legs already tells me she's been sexually assaulted before she was even brought into this building. Was this how Mara looked when they brought her here? After I walked away from her and submitted to the rules of this place, thinking I would be saving her?

  I inhale in a hissing breath and step into the room. The girl instantly looks up at me, her sorrow-filled eyes fill with fear, the rims red from crying. She's pale and tired. Dark circles under her eyes allude to the fact that her nightmares have prevented sleep for a long time now. Her mouth opens to plead with me not to hurt her, but she already knows it will be futile.

  She should be a slave now, a whore to the men who fight with implants in the back of their skulls. Except she won’t be. I won't allow it to happen. Samara knows I have two days, that's all. Friday at midday I need to have this girl ready. Samara won't let me down because she knows the torment the broken shell of a woman in front of me will go through. Samara won't let another woman suffer the same fate she did. It hits me, and the ache in my chest deepens so much I have to rub my hand over my heart.

  In two days, this will be over.

  I could have my life back—one with the woman I love. Or I'll be rotting at the bottom of the ocean, and everything around me will continue. No, the latter isn't an option. It's not going to happen.

  "Hello," I say to the girl. "What's your name?"

  She shuts her mouth. Brave little one. A name is important. It's something that can be used against you. By keeping it to herself, she's retaining some of the power. I can't help but snort a little laugh. If the chip were in my head, I'd beat the name out of her and then forget I did it. I look around the room knowing there will be cameras with microphones that will pick up everything I say.

  I spot them hidden in the ceiling and choose the spot where I need to carry out my plan. In three long strides I'm across the room and wrapping my hand around the girl's long, black hair, pulling her to her feet. She's screaming and trying to kick out at me, but I keep her enough of a distance away from me. I have to ensure my manhood will be in good working order for Samara when I see her next. I throw the girl down into the corner where we’d be at the edge of sight from where the camera is positioned. She slides along the floor and slams into the wall.

  "Please," she cries. "Please don't hurt me."

  "Why do you think I’ll do that?" I fold my arms across my chest and stare down at her. A look of determination adorns my face. I need to make her believe I'm the devil she thinks I am. If she sees it, so will the cameras and the bitch watching behind them.

  "The others." Her bottom lip trembles when she whimpers out her words. "They did things."

  "They raped you?"

  She nods.

  "They beat you?"

  Another flick of her head.

  "Do you know where you are?"

  "No," she replies with a barely audible voice.

  "Hell," I reply with little care. "You've got nothing on the outside. No parents or family. Nobody who cares about you. You're alone, and that is what we prey on because nobody will care you're gone.”

  "My friends," she interrupts.

  "Three boys, soon to be men." I raise an eyebrow. "We like them just as much. Not for the same reasons you will be used. No. They will become soldiers who fight for whatever we tell them to. They may die in the process, but there are plenty more where they came from. There will always be people who have nothing and nobody."

  "You're evil. Sick," she spits at me.

  "Probably." I shrug. "But I'm good at what I do, so I might as well continue. Better than nothing."

  I prowl closer to her, and she jumps to her feet and backs up until she hits the wall behind her. My eyes flick to the camera. Out of sight. Perfect.

  I smother her with my body. She's trying to struggle, but I pin her to the wall and cover her with my muscular frame. I bring my hand down between us, so any cameras behind us will see what looks like me fingering her. In reality, I'm not touching her. I bring my mouth as close to her ear as possible and whisper, “Listen to me carefully. I don’t have much time to explain. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve sent word to help get you out of here, but until then, you need to play along with me because I'm the only person who can keep you safe from being raped again. I can't promise you won't be beaten again, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum. Scream now," I order.

  Her eyes look up into mine, and I hope she sees the genuine concern I have for her in them. She opens her mouth, and I fear she's going to say something which will land us both in more trouble than we're currently risking, but all she does is scream.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. "Well done."

  "I don't understand," she replies, her voice lowered to a whisper.

  "You don't need to. Just know you're under my protection now. What has happened up until now won't happen again."

  She looks down between us to where my hand is between us, the fingers moving so any muscles in my back and shoulders appear to be doing the same.

  "Please. I don't want this," she whimpers in a loud voice, and I know she's playing along with my game.

  "Good girl. You ever faked an orgasm?" I question with a smirk.

  "No," she shouts out with feigned anguish.

  "Now will be the first then. Do it."

  Her eyes go wide, and then she's shuddering and crying in my arms.

  "No." She forces tears to the surface, and I step back so the camera can see the face of my Oscar-deserving actress. She's playing the victim perfectly. She slides to the floor and brings her knees up to her chest.

  "Why are you doing this to me? I just want to go home."

  I lower myself to her.

  "You will," I whisper.

  I stand back up and start to unbutton the shirt I'm wearing. Its loose, blue, cotton fabric will swamp the girl, but at least i
t will give her some privacy from the eyes of the soldiers.

  "Put this on," I order, and she scrambles to follow my instructions. I bring my hand down onto her jaw and squeeze her face. "For the next couple of days, you are my little whore. Nobody else will touch you except me. You do not speak unless I talk to you." I bring her up to her feet. "Do you understand me?"

  She doesn't answer, and I shake my head before whipping my hand across her face. It looks more dramatic than it is forceful, but the sound of skin on skin still echoes through the room. She gasps with shock.

  "I won't ask you again. Next time I'll break your nose."

  "Yes," she breathlessly trembles.

  "Good."

  Grabbing her by the arm, I drag her across the room.

  "What are you doing?"

  She digs her bare feet into the ground. I can see the trust she gave me minutes ago wavering.

  "Trust." I mouth before pushing into her personal space, my mouth inches from hers. "I don't fuck in public." I look toward the cameras with a snide smirk. "I like a nice cozy bed where I can give the woman a good time whether she wants it or not."

  "No," the girl gulps and tries to stop me from leading her out of the room and into the hallway. "Please."

  "Mr. King." Rebekah's stern shout should have me coming to a halt, but I'm too busy dragging a rather unwilling partner down the corridor. "Archer." Her voice is louder, and I huff out an annoyed moan.

  "What?" I turn and bring the girl into my side, a protective gesture to her, but also one which shows anyone else in the corridor for the next forty-eight hours, she's mine.

  "Where are you taking her?" Rebekah's lips are pursed together into a thin line. The bitch is jealous. Her plan to try and get my dick back inside her has backfired spectacularly. The second she offered me this girl, I knew she thought I would say no and fall at her feet. That's not going to happen though, not while I'm still breathing. My dick is firmly in my pants when it comes to her from now on.