I pull my bike up to Carnage and put in the code, opening the wrought-iron gates. Then I’m driving down the curvy two-lane road before the trees open up, and it comes into view.
I’ve spent more time here in the last week than I’ve wanted to. But it is what it is. The Lords are very strict on what we can and can’t do. And right now, I can’t abandon my responsibilities no matter how much I want to. Especially for pussy.
We graduate with honors from Barrington University without even attending a single class. Because the Lords already know where we’re going to be placed out in the real world.
There are judges, doctors, attorneys, teachers, and those in law enforcement. You name it, we’ve got a Lord on the payroll. Some of us are just more successful than others. It all has to do with your bloodline and where you fall in the Lords world.
Getting off my bike, I run up the stairs and through the double doors that squeak, announcing my entrance.
I make my way over to the elevator and take it up to the seventh floor. I enter the Spade brothers’ office. “You wanted to see me,” I say to Mr. Price.
He looks up at me from his desk. He’s the only one here, thankfully. Otherwise, my father would want to know what I’m doing. I don’t even know what the fuck we’re doing. He had sent me a text this morning to meet him here first thing. Alone. I wasn’t about to turn him down when the chosen ceremony is so close.
“I need to show you something,” he says, straightening his suit jacket.
“Okay,” I say slowly.
“But first I need you to understand that you can’t act on this.”
I cross my arms over my chest.
“Saint,” he growls. “You have to promise.”
What could be so important that he’s making me promise? Surely, he doesn’t take that shit seriously? What’s next? Make us cross our pinkies like we’re little girls agreeing to keep a secret? “You have my word.” I lie. I’m not agreeing to shit when I don’t have all the facts.
Sighing, he picks up the remote and turns on the TV that hangs on the wall.
I step closer as a video begins to play. The sound of Ashtyn’s soft sobs fills the room as the video shows me with his daughter tied to her bed with my fingers down her throat while she comes all over the vibrator that I hold between her shaking legs.
“Did you really think I’d buy her a house without placing surveillance inside?” he questions.
I take a deep breath and turn to look him in the eyes. “I didn’t break any rules,” I say through gritted teeth. The fact that he watches his daughter in her room on a daily basis should be the sick part. But add the fact he’s also watched me get her off? But then again, a part of me isn’t all that surprised. He’ll be watching me fuck her soon in front of an audience anyway.
“I’m aware.” He nods. “But this one tells a different story.” He presses play once more, and this time, there is no audio.
But I can see it all play out in front of me like a scary movie. Only it’s not scripted. It’s real.
My breathing picks up as I clench my hands. “No,” I manage to say, shaking my head, not believing my own eyes. It ends, and the TV shuts off.
I realize I’m shaking when a hand lands on my shoulder, and I jump back.
“Son,” he says. “Remember the conversation we had at my home the other day?”
I nod. It’s all I’m capable of.
“You know what to do, then?”
Another nod.
“You keep my secret, and I’ll keep yours.”
ASHTYN
I’m sitting on my bed, an empty bottle of wine in my hand watching a documentary about a serial killer who murdered over fifty people in a ten-year span. My first thought is that he’s a Lord. To get away with that many murders in this day and time? They have to know who he is, where he’s been, and who his victims are.
That tells me they’re letting him get away with it. Or maybe the detectives on the case are the Lords and they’re told to stay one step behind. Either way, someone involved has the Lords crest branded on their chest.
I turn the channel, and it’s the news. I sit up when I see a brunette on it. Another missing girl. She’s nineteen and just started her freshman year at college. Her mother last saw her for lunch three days ago. Her mother called her that evening, and she never returned it. The girl’s car was also abandoned and empty, with the driver’s side door open.
It shows her mom and dad at a press conference. They’re holding up a picture of her. The mother is too distraught to speak while the father pleads for her to come home. If someone has her to just let her go. I hate it for them. For her. But a part of me wishes I had a family like that. One that would care if I went missing. Instead, my family will toss me to the side when I don’t do what my body is “required” to do.
My door opens, and I look over to see Saint enter my room. It’s been three days since I saw him. No call, no text, nothing. Which tells me one thing—he’s been at Carnage.
My father does the same to my mother. Goes off the grid. Then he comes home, and she yells at him until he leaves again. God, that has to be such a miserable life. Always so unhappy or having to fake it. No wonder she hates it so much.
“What do you want, Saint?” I ask, lifting the wine bottle to my lips, but I frown when I’m reminded it’s empty.
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Fuck, he looks delicious. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and combat boots with a black leather jacket, which tells me he rode his bike over here. He’s got a hat on backward that his dark hair peeks out from underneath. I hate that he’s seen me naked, yet I haven’t seen him.
“How drunk are you?” he asks flatly.
I frown, wondering if he’s mad at me, and that’s why he’s ignored me. What happened to our three weeks of training? I’ve been looking forward to being tied up and forced to come all over myself. “Not drunk enough.” I toss the bottle on the floor, and it rolls along my white carpet until he places his boot out to stop it. I mean, really what else is there to do?
His eyes drop to the empty bottle and then rise to meet mine. “Looks like you’ve had more than enough to me.”
I get up off the bed, and he looks over my bare legs. All I have on is an oversized T-shirt. It’s his. I’ve had it for several years. He left it at my parents’ one night after he and his friends came over when my brother had a swimming party. I’ve never worn it around him until now.
Reaching down, I grab the hem and pull it up and over my head, tossing it to the side. He arches a brow at me. I’ve become quite comfortable with being naked around him in the past week and a half. When the man you’re in love with strips you naked, ties you down, and gets you off with a vibrator between your legs while he stays fully dressed, you no longer have the urge to cover up your body. And then add the times he’s stripped you in front of his friends…He was right; modesty no longer matters.
“Ashtyn.” The way he growls my name was meant as a warning, but all it does is make me shiver with anticipation.
I’ve never seen this guy naked, and all I want is for him to use me. “What?” I place my hands out wide. “You’re here for a reason, right? To play with me.”
He shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. I have a feeling it’s to fight the urge to touch me. At least that’s what I tell myself. I want to be irresistible. I want him to lose control. He’s so close.
“Not tonight,” he finally speaks, his eyes still on my chest.
I lick my lips before pushing my bottom one out. He thinks I’m drunk, but I’m not even close. “Why not?” Before he can even answer, I pretend to trip and fall into him. His arms wrap around my hips, and I throw mine around his neck. Lifting on my tiptoes, I push my lips to his and kiss him.
His arms release me to remove mine from his neck, and he pushes me back. I open my heavy eyes and look up at him. He’s frowning at me as if disappointed. “What are you doing, Ashtyn?” He growls.
“Just fuck me,” I say.
“Ash—”
My hands drop to his belt, and I undo it. Then I fumble with the button on his jeans and zipper.
“Ash! Stop,” he barks out, stepping back.
I start to get angry. “What the fuck, Saint? Just fuck me already.”
“I can’t do that, and you know it.”
I roll my eyes. “We both know that I’m not going to bleed when you fuck me. So just do it now.”
“I can’t,” he says through gritted teeth. “And I told you I’d take care of it.”
“You can’t make me a virgin, Saint!” I slap the side of his face. We both know I am, but if I don’t bleed, everyone will think I’m not. It’s a lose-lose situation at this point.
He wraps his hand around my throat, slams my back into my closed door, and steps into me. I take in a shaky breath as his pretty bright-green eyes glare down at me, but I’m not afraid of him. This is the reaction I want out of him.
“I’m going to fuck you, sweetheart. I’m going to strip you naked, tie you down, and fuck you in front of everyone in that room. I’m going to humiliate you while you cry for me. But don’t doubt me, Ash. I will make you bleed. Even if I have to hurt you to do so, it will happen. You will belong to me.”
My thighs clench as my pulse races under his tight grip. Hurt me? Why does that sound exciting? I’m still sore from whatever he did to me in my kitchen last time I saw him. It makes me wonder how far he’ll go to ensure he gets to keep me. Whatever it is, I’m willing to take it. I can’t imagine a life without him.
“I’ve waited too long to get to where we are, and I’ve done too much for the Lords for them to throw me out now,” he grinds out through gritted teeth.
“They won’t find out,” I add. My voice barely a whisper because of his hand tightly gripping my throat.
“I’ll know, and that’s enough,” he growls.
Tears sting my eyes, and I push my hips into his. He’s hard. I wish I had the strength he does. Because I would do anything for him to push me to my knees right now.
“But make no mistake, sweetheart. Once you’re mine, I’m going to make sure the world knows it. Lord or not, men will know that I own you.” He lowers his forehead to mine. “Now be a good girl, crawl into bed, and get some sleep. You’re going to need your rest, Ash. Because once the vow ceremony is complete, you won’t be getting any.” With that, he pulls me from the door and exits my room, slamming it behind him.
