Sins That Find Us, page 10
“Enough is enough,” I tell him.
His fingers grip my jaw painfully, his thumb rubbing the wrong way against my stubble. “Is that so?”
He’s trying to scare me, which means only one thing: he’s shaken. He knows I’m right, and that’s disrupted his carefully constructed plan regarding Alice. Though, I think possibly she did that herself too.
There’s a reason he left her untouched and sent me down to watch her. There are easier ways to keep her alive, and he chose the only one that could possibly bring her comfort.
“You’re a hypocrite,” I say, my tone full of venom. “You hate us for keeping secrets, but you let us assume the plan with Alice, and it’s all bullshit.”
His brow quirks. “Is that so.”
I lift my chin, though his grip on me doesn’t relent. “If you wanted her dead,” I repeat the words I said to Alice, “she’d be dead. And you and I both know you can’t keep her down there like that for much longer.”
“What do you want me to do with her, James?” he asks quietly. I know that tone. That tone is danger. “Trust her to just sit around the house and make herself comfortable? Or are you suggesting we send her with Ariel and let him force her into submission.”
My gut clenches because I know he would—if that was his plan. “I don’t think you want—”
He silences me with a kiss, which I’ll admit is very effective. I was no blushing virgin when I was brought into the inner circle of Kane Walsh, but he’s one of three people who are capable of bringing me to my knees or quieting my sharp tongue.
“Don’t presume to know what I want,” he growls.
I slip my fingers into his hair and pull. He growls louder, but I know he loves it. Ariel submits for him, and Phoenix is the only person he’ll tolerate softness from. But me? He loves when I fight back, and I allow myself a momentary fantasy as I watch his eyes darken about what kind of lover he’ll be for Alice.
Because I know he can only resist her for so long.
“I think you like when I dig into your thoughts. And I think I’m right.”
“And I think you’re itching for a punishment,” he says in a way that tells me it won’t be a real one. It’ll be something I’ll enjoy far too much.
“This limbo is killing her,” I tell him as he steps back. My fingers loosen and fall to my side, and he shoves his hand under my arm, lifting my stump and laying a wet kiss along the scars. I shudder, but I don’t let his sinful mouth distract me. “It’s ruining everything. I need you to trust us to know what you have planned, Kane. We can’t act in our own best interest if you don’t give us all the information.”
I can see from the look on his face that I’ve stabbed the problem straight through the heart.
I lean back, and he takes my chin, tipping my gaze up to meet his. Staring Kane in the eye is like staring at the sun—gorgeous for a moment, then blinding. “Trust us,” I repeat.
He takes a breath, then steps entirely away from me, leaving the air cold between us. “I need to make some phone calls, and then the four of us will have a long conversation.” It’s a concession. A small one. He takes four steps away from me, then turns his head and says something that makes my heart leap into my throat. “For now, show her to a bedroom. Then show her all the things I’ll do that she won’t enjoy if she tries to escape.”
I don’t go back down straightaway. Instead, I peruse the halls to find a room that I think will suit the sweet darling best. The one I settle on is woodsy, like all the rooms, but it’s got feminine touches here and there. I doubt Kane’s ever set foot in it. I doubt anyone has.
It’s clean because all the rooms are cleaned weekly, and it smells faintly of dried roses. There’s a thick duvet on the four-poster bed and a dresser with a mirror. Along the far wall is a door that leads to an en suite with a claw-foot tub that I can’t stand because getting out of those with one arm is a balancing nightmare.
It’s got a nice shower, though, with two showerheads and black tiles, and the soaps are all fresh and full. I’ll go on a run, of course, to spoil little Alice if she really is going to have a home here. I don’t know exactly what Kane is planning, but I know that tone he used. It’s the same one he had with me—kid gloves and uncertainty but ultimately obsessed with keeping me.
Alice is not going to go the way of most Romanos who end up behind our walls. She never was. She was always special. Kane was just very good at hiding that.
There’s a noise from behind me, and I turn around, unsurprised to find Phoenix in the doorway. He’s wearing his usual sweater and trousers, his hair neatly brushed, his face tipped down, which means he’s listening to something in his earbud.
“Is she speaking to Ari?” I ask.
He snorts. “She’s babbling. She’s nervous. He’s sitting on his ass, twirling a butterfly knife like a little shit.”
I can’t help my own chuckle as I cross the room and pull Phoenix toward me. He comes easier than anything, tipping his head up so I can kiss him. “Did you hear what Kane said?”
Phoenix sighs as he brushes fingers over my jaw. “Yes.”
“Do you mind that we’re keeping her?” It’s an honest question. His opinion has more weight because disturbing his carefully constructed home shakes him sometimes. It took him a while to adjust to me, and those early fuckups that had him tripping and falling were met with fury and violence. But he was angry at his situation, not me, and that’ll be the case with Alice too.
His brow is furrowed, but after a long beat, he shakes his head. “As long as she stays out of my library and out of my office, I don’t really care what happens to her.”
I think there’s more to it than that, but I don’t call him on it. Phoenix has never been down to see her, but that’s not really a surprise. He has been blind for twenty years now, but he still feels vulnerable around new people. Even if they’re at our mercy.
“Do you think Kane’s making a mistake?”
His eyes—prosthetic and unnervingly realistic, though they don’t move as freely as natural eyes do—somehow manage to lock on to my shoulder. “I don’t know. If he’s keeping her for information, then yes. She doesn’t know anything. At least, nothing that will be of use to us. Kane suspects that Alice isn’t Romano’s biological daughter. He ordered a DNA kit.”
Well. That’s a fucking plot twist if I’ve ever heard one. “Have you told our fearless leader you hacked his emails?”
Phoenix reaches for me, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing the center of my palm. “No. He’s not really happy with me right now.”
There’s always trouble in their paradise, so I don’t bother asking what it’s about. Instead, I just let him back me against the wall and kiss me until I’m all worked up. He’s a bit of a sadist, though, and I know he enjoys it when he cups my hard dick, then laughs and leaves me wanting right there in what’s soon to be our darling’s sanctuary.
If there’s ever one to find here in our own personal Tartarus.
Chapter 11
ALICE
This has to be a trick. It has to be one more way they’re fucking with my head. After spending two hours with the redheaded psychopath who spent the entire time smiling at me as he played with a damn knife, James showed back up and told me I was being moved out of the basement.
I don’t really know what their game is, though I will say that the look of surprise on Ariel’s face seemed pretty genuine. He didn’t seem bothered, though. He just gave a look to James, then winked at me before disappearing down the hall.
He’s probably the scariest one of all because he looks very sweet—though I can see there’s definitely something unhinged in his gaze. But he’s all soft red hair and faded freckles, and he’s petite, though he’s tall.
I can’t really get a read on him, though. It’s almost like he wants me to think he’s dangerous—and I can’t figure out if that means he’s not and he’s trying to put up a front, or he is and he wants me to know it. At least with James, I can figure him out. He wants to fuck me, and I think he’s kind of attached to me, but I also know he’ll do whatever his boss—lover, whatever—tells him to do.
And then there’s Kane, who literally almost made me piss my pants. But I’ve known about him since I was little, and he’s every bit the monster under the bed my father described him to be. The only thing I’m not, when it comes to Kane, is disappointed.
I can’t help but feel like my body has betrayed me, though, because I can’t lie and say that I didn’t soak right through my panties when he called me a good girl. God, even thinking about doing something to earn those words…
It’s too much, especially for a woman like me who has never been touched.
I don’t think that’s going to last long, and a small part of me hopes so—and hopes that they’ll make sure I enjoy it because I’d rather not go out a virgin. I mean, it wasn’t for lack of trying, I promise you that—my father was a little overenthusiastic about making sure no one got close enough to give it a shot.
The few kisses I did experience—and the wet dreams that followed—told me I’d definitely enjoy myself the moment I got the chance. So it seems like it’s now or never, to be honest. I don’t have high hopes I’m going to survive this, even when James shows me to a very large, very cushy bedroom with a massive bathroom and a walk-in closet.
Again, I feel like the forest witch is just trying to fatten me up.
“Very little in this house is off-limits,” James tells me as he walks me back out of the room and down the hall.
Being trapped in a tiny basement for nearly two weeks didn’t give me much of an idea about where the hell I was, but I’m not surprised the grounds are both massive and—from what I can see out the window—in the middle of fucking nowhere.
“And I can just do whatever I want?” I ask him as we reach the bottom of the stairs. He walks me into what looks like one of those old-school English parlors, and I wonder if I’m still in the US with the way everything looks.
He opens the terrace door, then sweeps his stump toward the outside. I realize I haven’t breathed fresh air or let the sun on my skin in so fucking long. The clothes I’m wearing are basically someone’s pajamas. Flannel pants and a too-big T-shirt with a suspicious brown stain that’s probably blood. But I feel light and almost giddy as I step into a late, warm afternoon breeze.
“There are a few rooms that are closed for a reason. Mostly Phoenix’s library and his office.”
Phoenix. I’d heard his name before, but no one actually explained how many people were living here and what they did. The only people I’ve seen so far are James, Ariel, and Kane, so the fact that there might be other lurkers… I shudder as I shove the thought away.
He walks across the terrace space and sits down on a low wall that leads to another set of stairs. Beyond that is a garden and an orchard, and through the thick green brush, I can also see a large wall.
Trapped. Just in a bigger cage this time.
“Phoenix handles all of our tech and security. You probably won’t see him much at first. He’s a reclusive wanker.” His tone is almost apologetic, which makes me frown. Why would he care what I think?
I can feel him step up behind me, and when I anticipate his arm coming around my waist, this small, traitorous part of me wants it and is disappointed when he doesn’t touch. Still, I feel the warmth of him—and his power, and just how dangerous he is.
This man has murdered before. There’s no doubt in my mind.
The thought should make me sick, but I also know the kind of person who raised me, and maybe I’m just numb to it now. Or maybe I’m fucked-up, just like them.
“Alice?”
I turn my head, and I can see him in my periphery. He really is fucking pretty. Rugged and young, dark stubble and wispy curls and an olive tone that says his bloodline probably came from somewhere along the Mediterranean, despite his English accent.
“Are you ignoring me, little darling?”
I shake my head. “Is there something you want me to say?”
I can feel him studying me. “How well do you know your father?”
Ah. So this is some sort of ploy in order to get me to give up information. Well, joke’s on them, and they must not actually know me as well as they claim. “Apart from the fact that he never did like me and that losing my mother and sister gave him the excuse he always wanted to shut down what was left of his humanity?” I laugh bitterly. “Not much.”
This time, he does touch me. He grips me by my shoulder and spins me, then brushes a lock of hair behind my shoulder. Normally I keep it tied up or braided, but right now, it’s kind of a mess since I haven’t had more than a quick shower with no soap, and I was lucky to get even that.
“You should go upstairs,” he says eventually.
I don’t know if I’ve disappointed him, though he doesn’t seem upset. All the same, my stomach churns.
“Everything you could possibly need for now is in that bedroom, and if you need anything else, we can send for it. Just make a list.”
I almost laugh again at the sheer absurdity of the situation. I glance over my shoulder once more at the grounds, but my attention snaps back to James when he curls his fingers around the back of my neck so tight it hurts.
“Don’t be stupid, little darling.”
“I—”
He bares his teeth, and whatever I was about to say dies in the back of my throat. He leans in, and I can smell something spicy on his breath, like cloves. “All of us have tried to run at one point or another. It never ends well.”
“So you’re trapped here too?” I can’t help but ask.
He laughs, his breath hot on my face. “We’ve all sold our soul to Hades, darling. And he’s made us work for it. But you’ll come to realize soon enough why any of us would do it over and over again.”
He lets me go, then turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me in the room alone. I know for a fact it’s some kind of test. I’m fast, though having been half-starved, I wouldn’t be fast enough. And I have no doubt someone’s watching me.
But the truth is, I don’t want to run. I don’t know if this is more of them trying to get me to drop my guard to make the eventual torture even more painful, but I might as well take what I can get. There’s no hope for me at this point—or if there is, I’m not going to find it in this moment.
I tell myself not to enjoy anything I’ve been given by these men. It’s not safe to feel even a fraction of complacency. I might be naïve, I might have been kept in a bubble most of my life, but I still had training. Leo, who taught me how to fight and how to shoot and how to use my small height against taller attackers, also taught me to understand when I was beaten—and at the moment, I am. I’m not a tactical or technological genius. I don’t have hidden super strength that could overpower three grown-ass, dangerous men who don’t need to carry weapons because their bodies are more lethal than any gun.
Compliance, for the moment, will keep me breathing.
So shoot me for enjoying it when I sink into the damn near scalding hot water and let the dirt and sweat and tears of the last two weeks slough off me. I pour enough soap in for the scent of lavender to overwhelm me, and I lie back with my hair tied up and watch my feet at the end of the tub turn from tawny to ruddy from the heat.
It’s not just amazing because I spent almost two weeks in a dingy basement with cold running water. This is better than I had in my boarding school or in my dorm.
It’s heaven—or as close as I’ll be getting for a long time.
Closing my eyes, I know it’s dangerous to let my guard down, but I can’t help it. The first second of real relaxation has me seconds away from passing out. Of course, I know these men want something more from me than killing me in my sleep, so I allow my guard to drop for a second.
Fool that I am.
I hear the door seconds before it registers in my head, and I’m sitting up and flailing to find a washcloth to cover myself. I spy it sitting too far away, so I scoop the bubbles close as the smirking redhead enters the room.
I can hear my heart thundering in my ears in time with the click of his boot heels on the tile, and I can’t tear my gaze away from the little smirk playing at his full lips. His light eyes are narrowed on me, his gingery lashes almost glinting in the soft light of the bathroom.
He looks innocent and sweet, except I know better. I know from the scar across his throat and the ones that slice through the freckles on his arms that he’s not to be trusted. I know they aren’t going to kill me just yet, but it’s on me entirely for not thinking that I might be in danger in other ways.
Especially as he eyes me with the look of a starving man.
“Did you need something?” I demand.
He says nothing…because of course he says nothing. His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to sign, but James must have told him I don’t know more than the alphabet and a couple of phrases because he doesn’t.
It’s almost a standoff between us, the way he stares me down in the middle of the floor, and then suddenly, it’s like someone hit un-pause on his body because he moves faster than I expect.
My breath catches in my throat as he drops to his knees by the side of the tub and reaches for me. I tense, prepared to fight him, but all he does is seize my wrist and lift it out of the water. I can see him studying me, and I don’t understand for a long time.
Then he clicks his tongue like he’s disappointed, and his hand darts out, snatching up the washcloth from the side of the bamboo bench.
“Thank—” I start, but he snorts and shakes his head.
Don’t thank me, his body language says.
I swallow thickly and bite the words back as I watch him grab one of the bottles filled with pearly soap, and he dips the cloth into the water, then scrubs it between his hands until it lathers and bubbles. He takes my arm again and begins to gently rub me clean. I don’t know what the hell to make of this. He’s clearly deranged and would probably just as soon drag a sharp knife over my carotid artery than he would read me a bedtime story.
