I pull up to her parents’ and place my car in park. Looking over at her, I see she’s got her eyes closed, head tilted to the side. Her pouty lips are parted, and her chest rises and falls as she breathes deeply. She’s passed out.
It’s for the best. My car smells like her, and it’s had me so fucking hard. My hoodie is still in her lap, and my teeth grind at the fact I’m going to have to pick her up and carry her inside. I wanted to just drop her off. Watch her stomp into the house mad at me.
Shoving my door open, I slam it, hoping it’ll wake her up. But when I open hers, she’s still out.
Fuck!
Bending down, I place my arms underneath her and lift her from the car. I carry her up the stairs and into the house, then climb the grand staircase headed for her room. I lay her down in her bed, and she moans, her hips lifting off the bed slightly.
“Saint.”
The sound of my name on her lips makes my legs weak. I sit down on the side of the bed, and unable to stop myself, I reach out, running my knuckles over the thin white material of her bathing suit top, brushing them against her nipples.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I ask, my voice rough. My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it, knowing it’s one of the brothers wondering where the fuck I am.
She arches her back, taking a deep breath. “I want you.” Her pretty blue eyes flutter open, unfocused and heavy.
I smile, my hand cupping her face, and she leans into it, eyes falling closed. “You’ll be mine soon, Ashtyn. I promise.”
She’s out once again, and I take what little strength I have, stand, and walk out of her room, knowing I have to do whatever it takes to make her mine.
I enter through the open gate at the house of Lords. It’s fifteen minutes from Barrington University. It was once a hotel that was given to the Lords. It’s a weekend, so the gates are open because they’re throwing their usual weekend party, getting ready for the ritual where all the seniors take their chosen. Otherwise, the gates remain closed to outsiders.
I take the long and curvy entrance faster than I should and come up to the renovated hotel. It’s white brick with black shutters and has six columns on the large front porch. I follow the roundabout that has a pond and fountain in the center. Staying right, I drive under the breezeway and park in the back. I see Haidyn’s bike, Kashton’s car, and Adam’s G-wagon. I bring mine to a stop next to them.
All Lords are required to live here throughout our years at Barrington. They’re pretty strict on it up until your senior year. Then we’re allowed a lot more freedom. Especially us Spade brothers because we spend so much time at Carnage.
I enter the building through the back and jump on the elevator, taking it down to the basement. Once I step off, I walk down the hallway and stride into the room. It’s more like a bunker. Racks on the far wall display guns and knives of various sizes. The others already sit at the large table in the center of the room. All three of them look up at me.
“About time,” Adam snaps, checking his watch. “What the fuck took so long?”
“I’m here.” I avoid his question.
“Should have left her at the party,” he bites out.
I choose to ignore him. He’s been treating Ashtyn like shit lately. I don’t like it, but it is what it is. The door opens behind me, and I plop down next to Haidyn.
Lincoln—a Lord who runs the house of Lords, enters the room with another man I’ve never seen before. He wears an all-black suit with a matching tie. His dark hair slicked back. He can’t be more than twenty-five.
“Brothers, I called you all here for an important meeting.” Lincoln steps back and gestures to the man that I notice he didn’t introduce to us.
“Hello, gentlemen.” He tosses us each a manila envelope.
I open mine up to see a woman lying on a bed. She’s naked, her head hanging off the side, her neck slit from one side to the other. Blood runs down the edge of the bed and puddles onto the floor. Her ankles are tied together with barbwire. I’m guessing her wrists are too since her arms look to be secured underneath her.
“Over five months last year, twenty girls went missing. Five of those were found raped and murdered,” he announces.
“The other fifteen?” Haidyn asks, scanning the picture.
“Still missing,” the man answers.
Adam slams his folder down. “What does this have to do with us?”
“Did they attend Barrington?” Kashton questions before he can answer Adam.
“No.” He looks at Kash. “All were still in high school—seniors—but none of the five were connected to one another. As far as we can tell, they didn’t know the Lords existed.”
“The ones who are still missing?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not that we have found.”
“I’m with Adam,” Lincoln adds, scanning the folder Adam put on the table. “What does this have to do with them?” He means the Spade brothers.
They have to think a Lord is involved and want us to step in and take care of it. The question is, why? What the fuck can we do?
The man opens up a briefcase and pulls out a single picture. His eyes meet mine before he drops it in front of me. I keep mine on his when he speaks. “The girl in the first picture was my sister.” Deafening silence falls over the room. “The woman in this photo”—he taps the one that still lies in front of me—“was the last person seen with her.”
Swallowing, I drop my eyes to the picture, and my heart races at what I see. “You said…” I clear my throat. “That none of them were connected to the Lords.” My eyes raise to his once more.
“None were. Until now…”
ASHTYN
“Ashtyn?”
I ignore the woman’s voice behind my back. It reminds me of nails in a blender. Makes your skin crawl and is annoying as fuck. And she repeats herself over and over. If she asks me how I feel one more time, I’m going to scream.
Maybe throw something. It’ll give them a reason to think I’m crazy. I’m pretty sure my mother wants to send me away. Not sure why, though. It’s not like she’s actually raised my brother and me. In our world, the Lady—a Lord’s wife—sits in the corner looking pretty while the nannies are the true parents. It’s because of them that I’ve actually survived this long.
“Ashtyn!” my mother barks my name this time.
I turn around to face the two women. Leaning back against the floor-to-ceiling window, I cross my arms over my chest. She’s been making me come here for years with her. You can say I’m in denial all you want, but she’s the one who needs professional help. Not me.
“See what I mean?” my mother whispers through clenched teeth as if I can’t hear her.
The woman gives me a big fake smile, pretending she didn’t hear her. “How was your weekend?” she asks me.
I go to answer, “Fine,” and my mother huffs.
“I caught her watching porn. Again.” She reaches into her Louis Vuitton and pulls out a piece of paper. I’m not surprised she took a picture and then printed it off. Evidence, she calls it. At least that’s what my father said he needed when she told him I was a sex addict.
You have to actually get fucked in order to be one. But whatever. My father understood that I’m not a sex addict. Do I think I could become one? There’s always hope. I’m also twenty-one years old. How many women my age haven’t watched porn?
Her therapist looks at the paper and frowns. “I thought we talked about this?” Her eyes meet mine.
I give them my back once again and look out the floor-to-ceiling windows. As a child to a Lord and Lady, they’ve been throwing sex in our faces since we were kids. Yet when we want it, they reprimand us for it.
Make it make sense.
I mean, I know the logic behind it. It’s a test. They’re always testing us. The Lords are made to remain celibate for their first three years at Barrington University while going through their initiations. Their senior year they get a chosen—a girl to fuck.
I don’t know about you, but I think that sounds amazing. Fucking use my body. Show me what it’s made for. Instead, I’ve had to get myself off.
My father is a Spade brother. All Lords have to offer their children to the Lords. That’s why they reproduce in the first place. Their sons go through initiations, and their daughters must serve the men who make it.
But a daughter of a Spade? I’m given to another Spade brother. The next generation. In three weeks, my father will gift me to a Spade brother as an offering to his Lords. I don’t know who it will be, but I know who I want. And the way he looked at my body at the party when I was dripping wet out of the pool, I’d say he wants me too.
Saint is the one guy I dream about at night. He’s the one I imagine fucking me when I watch porn. He just has this way with his eyes. Like he’s always undressing me. I knew he was going to the party. I overheard my brother talking about it on the phone. So I made sure to go, and I wanted to be in the pool when he arrived. Am I poking the bear? Yes. Do I want to see what it’ll do once provoked? Also yes. But it backfired. I passed out when he drove me to my parents, and I woke up in my room all alone this morning. My car parked in the driveway without a text or call from him. Not like I expected one. I’m not his friend; my brother is. So I decided to watch some porn and try to relieve the pain between my legs that Saint left me with last night.
“Ashtyn!” my mother growls. “This is serious.”
“I’m a virgin, Mother,” I remind her. A part of us being a gift is that we have to bleed. The Lords are all about control. You spread your legs when you’re told to. You kneel when you’re told to. And you shut your fucking mouth when you’re told to. “Not sure why watching porn is so intolerable for you.” Lords kill people, and this is the hill she wants to die on? Sex? Pathetic.
“See…” she hisses. “This is what I’m dealing with. She has unrealistic expectations.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to face them. I’d say that Saint will fulfill my expectations and even raise them.
“Tell her,” my mother urges. “Tell her what to expect.”
The therapist sits back in her seat, her eyes meeting mine. “What do you expect to get out of sex?” she asks frankly.
“Off,” I answer, and my mother gasps. “From what I see, if he fucks you right, you get to come all over his dick.”
My mother rushes over to me and slaps me across the face. It’s not hard. She’s too weak to make it hurt. She’d have to actually eat a meal that isn’t liquid to have any strength. “You little bit—”
“It’s okay.” My mother’s therapist interrupts her. “Ashtyn.” She looks at me. “You understand porn isn’t real, right? It’s scripted just like anything else we see on TV.”
“She was watching a gang bang.” My mother grips her pearls. For being such a slut, she’s really an uptight bitch. I know she’s had her fair share of men. My father doesn’t care who has a piece of his wife. Anything to keep her out of his hair. They both fuck others. All my father cares about is his loyalty to the Lords. Nothing else matters. If he were required to set me on fire in front of them, he’d do it. Thankfully all I have to do is spread my legs and get fucked. “A gang bang,” she cries, covering her face with shaking hands.
“Better your odds. At least one dick has to be good.” I shrug.
My mother’s face turns red as can be, and she takes in a deep breath.
I mean, they can’t all be fake, right? I’ve watched so many women come on my phone and laptop. I’m sure an FBI agent has my name at the top of his list. I make sure all the sites I watch are legit, and the actors are of age, but it hasn’t helped my craving. The more degrading shit I find, the deeper I dig. I’ve heard porn can desensitize you. I believe it.
I just want to be touched, held, and feel skin to skin. I’m starving for something I’ve never even tasted. And I just know that once I’m able to get it, life will be better.
“Ashtyn, I’d like a moment with your mother, please.” The therapist gives me a soft smile.
I don’t need to be told twice. I walk out of her office and sit on the bench out in the hallway. My thighs clench, but I’ve never even touched myself. I’ve gotten off, of course, but it’s been with vibrating toys. Only on the outside. Nothing inside.
Not all chosens have to abstain from sex for her Lord. But I’m a chosen for a Spade brother. We have different rules. And one of them is I have to bleed for my Lord. Prove I was worthy of him. He’s gone three years without pussy. But the fuckers were able to fuck before then. I’m not sure which is worst. Never experiencing it or knowing what it’s like and having to go without.
“Let’s go.” My mother huffs, exiting the office and slamming the door shut behind her.
I follow her to the elevator, to the first floor and out to her Bugatti that my father bought her for Christmas last year. Once we’re in, I press my forehead to the warm glass.
“This isn’t about you, Ash.” She sighs heavily.
“Then why do you take me to see her with you?” I wonder.
“No. I mean the sex. A Lord—” She pauses. “A Lord takes what he wants when he wants it. It’s not up to you to enjoy. It’s up to you to serve.”
“Is there a difference?” I mumble. We’re raised to be needed. Being used sexually should be something we get out of it, if you ask me. I mean, without us, the Lords wouldn’t exist. We’re the ones who give birth to their children, adding to their numbers. The thought of being Saint’s sex toy sounds pretty satisfying to me.
Bringing the car to a stop, she grabs my shirt and gently pulls me to face her. Giving me a soft smile, she pushes my wild hair behind my ear and gently touches my cheek where she slapped me. “You don’t understand. And you won’t until it’s too late. Sex makes you feel things.”
Isn’t that the point? From what I’ve read, it’s euphoric. An out-of-body experience if done correctly.
“I just hate it.” She lowers her voice. “The fact that you have to be a virgin. If you’d experience it before, maybe it’d be different.”
I sit up straighter. “Why?”
“He’s not going to love you, honey,” she states bluntly.
My shoulders fall, and I look down at my hands. “I’m not looking for love,” I say softly. I understand that love doesn’t exist in our world. It’s sex, money, and power. Love is unheard of. Your own parents don’t love you; you’re made for a purpose not any other reason.
“Everyone deserves to be loved. I’m just sorry you’ll never experience it.”
I look up at her and see unshed tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers once again, and I have a feeling she’s talking about something else now.
I swallow, all of a sudden uncomfortable. We don’t have heart-to-hearts. She yells, and I say stupid shit to get slapped. That’s how it’s always been. “For what?” I can’t help but ask.
“For having you.”
My stomach sinks, and my throat closes up, making it hard to breathe. She just spoke the words I’ve always known, but she never dared to speak. If I were a boy, it’d be different. I’d be celebrated for getting a pussy to fuck soon.
“If you ever get the chance, Ashtyn, you run. Run like hell and don’t ever look back. Do you understand me?”
I don’t know where she expects me to go, but the fear in her eyes has me nodding. “Ye-ah.”
“I mean it. You will never be enough for a Lord.” Sitting back in her seat, she mumbles, “No woman ever is…and you’re nothing special.”
