Guts & Glass

  Skull raises his hand, silencing me. He saunters forward to tower over Laura.

  “Treason?” He grabs her chin and forces her to lift her head. “You don’t rule here. I do.”

  Her dry lower lip trembles and she seems to sink into herself. “She hit me.”

  “Don’t be so weak,” he says, dragging a finger over her lip. “Taste it.”

  Without hesitation, she slips her tongue out to lick his finger—the finger that was inside me only moments ago. I grimace.

  “I can’t let it go,” she mutters, her eyebrows furrowing. “They—”

  He whips his hand from her mouth to the back of her head and snatches her hair in his angry fist. She winces, her eyes closing tightly.

  “I gave Emily my word. You want to make me a liar?”

  As best she can, she shakes her head, and he plants a soft kiss on her chin right below her lip.

  “Remember your place.”

  She nods and he lets her go. Without a glance over his shoulder, he exits the bathroom and then the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I let out a rush of air I didn’t know I was holding and meet Laura’s scowl.

  I smirk at her and lift my shoulder a little. Inside, my heart races unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  What did I agree to?

  She turns away from the bathroom, shouting at Monique to sit so she can do her hair. When I’m alone, my smirk dissolves and my shoulders slump as anxiety manifests in the pit of my stomach.

  I think I just made a huge mistake with Skull.

  A huge mistake.

  SIX

  Jai

  Trophy

  I smooth my palms down the front of my crisp, white shirt and do up the last button. The smell of soap and cologne swirls around me, turning my stomach. I don’t know what Skull has planned for Joel and me at his party tonight, but I’m not looking forward it.

  I tighten the half-Windsor knot of my black tie and adjust my collar to sit flush against me.

  “Why does he have us wearing this shit?” I ask Joel as he adjusts his collar and then his cuffs.

  “We have to look the part.”

  Look the part? What part are we playing? “We’re his prisoners, not his business partners.”

  The arms of my black jacket tighten around my muscles and across my back as I bend down to tighten my shoelace. If I stretch any further, I’m certain the fabric will tear.

  I inhale through my nose and out again at a careful pace, straightening my posture. The jacket hugs me too tight. It’s suffocating me, making the heavy stones of anxiety in my chest almost unbearable. If I didn’t want to see Emily so bad, there’s no way I’d leave this room feeling the way I do, but after what happened this morning, I need to see if she’s okay. If there’s a single mark on her skin, I will massacre the lot of them.

  I turn to Joel as he saunters toward the edge of his cell and leans against it, his tattooed hands hanging lazily over the horizontal bar. “Who knows what he wants from us. The guy is deranged.”

  “You’d know that better than anybody.”

  He cuts his eyes at me, furrowing his brows. “Yeah, I do, so don’t try anything stupid tonight and you’ll be fine.”

  “Me? Do something stupid? What am I gonna do?”

  He rolls his eyes. “You haven’t had to watch him put his dirty paws all over your girl like I have,” he points out. “I’ve had practice keeping my cool and you haven’t. God knows what you’re going to do to make our situation worse.”

  “Yours is a girl,” I point out. “Mine is a woman, and I’m sorry I don’t just stand idly by while some freak gropes her like you do. I’d rather—”

  “—Skull kill you? Oh, don’t worry, he will, and then who does Emily have?” He swipes a hand over his mouth, blowing a heavy exhale out of his cheeks. “Look, these parties can get intense. Just promise me you won’t draw attention to yourself—or her.”

  How can I promise him that? The very thought of Skull touching her makes my blood burn like hellfire. My patience and my submissiveness is running out. I’m nearing the end of my rope.

  “Will you two shut up?” the new guard snaps, his rough baritone voice echoing around the large room.

  We look at him as he leans against the wall, his leg bent at the knee, his stance mimicking the previous guard’s. Nate stood like that right before Monique waltzed her crazy ass in here and stabbed him in the neck, leaving enough life in him for Emily to finish off. When Skull took them away this morning, Joel wasn’t half as frazzled as I was. Turns out Monique is quite the serial stabber. During her stay here, she’s stabbed four guards—including Joel. The scar is located along the back of his forearm, but he’s had a budding rose tattooed over the top of it, its thorny stem lining the scar tissue.

  I glance at the blood-stained floor and more stones of anxiety add to the pile already in my stomach. Some woman was in here trying to scrub it out, but she got nowhere. The concrete has absorbed the blood like a sponge in water. I can still smell the coppery scent of it, and that of the other guards who have died in here, as if their bodies were still strewn across the floor.

  “Did you know him?” I ask, lifting my stare to the guard. “Nate?”

  His angry, black eyes settle on my face, his jaw flexing on and off, but he doesn’t utter a word. I can see the rage burning deep inside him and I interpret his silence as a yes.

  I smirk, the itch to provoke him scratching at my skin. “A strong guy like you should keep less pathetic company.”

  Joel groans. “Jai? What are you doing?”

  I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know I want him to fight me. I want him to open my cell, come inside, and fight me. I need it. I need to take out my frustration on something, might as well be this asshole. All this anger I’ve been bottling up for the sake of keeping Emily safe is reaching its boiling point. I’ve never been cooped up for so long before. The only exercise I get are the one hundred push-ups I do twice daily and it’s not enough.

  It’s not.

  Fucking.

  Enough.

  Cue Ball pushes off the wall, his monstrous fists clenched at his sides. “What’d you say?”

  I like that he didn’t reach for the Desert Eagle at his hip and blow a hole in my chest. No. That’d be the easy way out. Maybe this guy wants to fight me as much as I want to fight him. Maybe he’s filled with just as much anger as I am. Is he as hungry as me? As sexually frustrated? Does he have less to lose than I do?

  “Are you as deaf as your friend was weak?” I taunt, moving toward the front of my cell.

  “Shut your fucking mouth.”

  “He was taken down by two women.” I laugh and grab the bars. “Two teeny, tiny women.”

  “I said shut your mouth!”

  “Why don’t you come in here and make me?” I loosen the knot of my tie as heat builds under the fabric of my clothes. Fight me. “Your buddy deserved it, the pathetic piece of sh—”

  Pete snaps his teeth together with a growl as vicious as a rabid dog and launches toward me. Snatching my shirt and tie in his powerful fist, he yanks me hard against the bars and pulls back his other arm, his fist clenched. He goes to let it fly into my face, but a shout stops him, downgrading his strong punch to a subtle twitch of his fingers.

  “Pete, enough!” Another guard shouts, entering the room out of my peripheral. “Skull will kill you if you bruise his face or get blood on his shirt.”

  Cue Ball’s lips curl back, exposing his crooked teeth. I glare into his umber eyes, challenging him.

  “Do it, Pete,” I say. “I’ll let you.”

  I’ll let him punch my anger out of me—anger that has done nothing but manifest and mutate as the days pass by while I remain dormant in this prison. I thought I’d have saved us all by now…but I haven’t. I don’t know how.

  I…

  I slump.

  I don’t know how to get us out.

  Finally coming to terms with it, my fight drains out of me throug
h my tight leather patent shoes.

  “You’re not worth it,” he grinds out, releasing me with a shove. “It’s time to go. Give me your wrists.”

  I sidestep to the cell door and stick my hands out of the wide gap. Pete swiftly handcuffs me, while the other guard, the one I didn’t hear come through the loud door, handcuffs Joel.

  When our wrists are securely locked, they open our cells and reach for another pair of cuffs from the back of their belts.

  “Don’t try anything funny.” Pete grumbles as he bends low and clamps them around my ankles. Joel’s guard rests his large palm on his gun, watching me closely. In fact, he’s watching me so close that Joel could easy snatch the gun and kill them both. I stare at Joel, and he gives me a subtle shake of his head.

  I sigh, lowering my hands as Pete connects the chain between my feet and my hands, making it damn near impossible to scratch the itch on my nose. I bend in half, lowering my face to my hand. Threatened, Pete whips his gun from his hip and points it at my head.

  “Relax,” I say, scratching the very tip of my nose.

  I straighten my spine and he slips the gun back into its place with a wary look on his face.

  “He’s done?” the other guard asks, taking Joel by his elbow and shoving him toward the door.

  “Yep.”

  Pete grabs my elbow and I yank it out of his grip. Growling, he snatches me by the jacket and pulls me in, his face an inch from mine. Pete is just as tall and just as wide as I am. The fight would be fair.

  “One wrong move, Stone, and Skull will hurt your girl in front of everyone.”

  I simper. “Is that so?”

  “That’s so.” He lets me go and smooths his palm over the wrinkles made by his firm grip. “Ask your brother what Skull likes to do to misbehaving prisoners at his parties. He knows.”

  I look to Joel and his eyes darken. “Keep your mouth shut and she’ll be fine.”

  She’ll be fine? What does he mean by that? What aren’t they telling me? The guards lead us through huge double doors and through vacant hallways, a few of them, before the final doors open and classical music fills my ears.

  I frown, my attention flicking around the gigantic foyer and the adjoining room. Last time I was here, the stone work was riddled with bullets, the chandeliers smashed into a million tiny shards that resembled snow. He’s been busy with the repairs, it seems. It’s like it never happened.

  The guards lead us to the base of the stairs and we wait. For what? I don’t know.

  Partygoers waltz by us in their extravagant gowns and expensive Armani suits, and I’m reminded of the galas my parents would force us to attend. Unlike the guests at these galas, the people here gossip behind their palms, their wide, curious eyes raking over Joel and me. Who are these people? Why are they so interested in us? And if they know who we are and why we’re here, why aren’t they fucking doing something about it?

  We wait at the bottom of the stairs for a small eternity. I start to think we’ll stand here all night until Pete straightens next to me. I feel her presence in the air first, concealing a shiver as goosebumps ripple across the surface of my skin. Following my instincts, I look up to the landing and the sight of her punches me in the gut. Her long, dark hair spills from the top of her head, like coffee without cream, before cascading over her shoulders. Subtle hints of smoke define her makeup application and are accentuated by traces of vibrant, shimmering gold. As I make my way down her ensemble, I begin to see the theme. A beautiful silver and gold gown clings to her subtle curves. I open my mouth and close it again as I follow the intricate silver bodice that melts into a sheer, golden fabric, showcasing her long, beautiful legs, before repeating the same opaque silver design as the bodice to hide her feet. From the thin, silver belt at her waist, thick rivulets of gold spill out, creating the perfect “coat” to flank the transparent fabric at the front.

  Then, her lips quirk at me, her eyes as shimmery as the eye shadow she wears and my whole world stops. Everyone around me slows and the only sound I hear is the rapid beat of my heart in my ears. A trophy. She looks like a real-life trophy—so beautiful, so breathtaking, I don’t even notice she’s attached to Skull’s arm at first.

  But then I do…and a heavy darkness settles in the pit of my stomach.

  I hate it.

  I hate him.

  I hate that she looks good on his arm. His tattoos scream chaos and her clean face is calm, a perfect balance and I hate that he thinks so too.

  “Breathe,” Joel whispers, but how can I?

  His infatuation with her is obvious. It’s in the way he looks at her. I saw it the first time he spotted Emily from up on his ledge. Sparkling eyes and parted lips…I cut my eyes at him. The fact she strikes an uncanny resemblance to his late wife is an unlucky happenstance. Or maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe their similarities are what’s kept her somewhat safe this whole time.

  Skull wears a fitted black tuxedo and all the bells and whistles are champagne in hue, borderline gold, to match the three women who descend the stairs with him. Monique and the other woman also wear gold—their dresses almost identical—but there’s something different about Emily’s and the way he’s dressed her. While Monique and the other woman’s dresses are incredibly slim fitting, as if liquid gold has been poured directly onto their bodies, Emily’s dress gives her a little more room to breathe. It doesn’t conceal her generous bust or the lovely shape of her body, but it doesn’t put them on show either. There’s something regal about her gown, something sweet and modest.

  Something…wifey.

  I peer sideways at Joel, whose eyebrows are up in his hairline as his eyes rake Monique from head to toe. I’ll admit, she’s a vision for sure, but she’s not Emily. Not even close.

  “Don’t you two scrub up nicely?” Skull says with a laugh as he steps toward us and away from the women.

  I look over his shoulder at Emily. She’s infinitely more beautiful up close and my heart races like mad, my stomach threatening to spill up my throat and out my mouth. I wonder if this is how a groom feels when he sees his bride coming down the aisle.

  “Hey.” Skull clicks his fingers in front of me, forcing my eyes from Emily.

  I pull my head away, scowling at him. “Get your hand out of my face.”

  Joel groans beside me. “Jai…”

  Skull steps close and the scent of expensive, musky cologne wafts over me. “Watch yourself, Stone. You don’t want to find yourself buried in more trouble than you can handle.”

  I frown as he bends his elbow and Emily steps forward, slipping her manicured hand onto it. My frown deepens. He used to drag her around by a leash and now all he has to do is crook his arm and she obeys? I’m glad she’s no longer treated like a sad pet, but damn, at least put up a little fight.

  Pink swells in her cheeks and the corners of her lips turn down. My heart stutters at seeing her look so miserable. She’s trying to survive, asshole. I sigh. I think, at this point, I’d rather she develop an attachment to Skull. She’d be happier then.

  Skull glances between his men. “They’re free to wander the party for the guests to touch and annoy, but keep an eye on them. They’re not to cross any thresholds, understand?” Pete and the other guard nod and Skull turns his sights back to us, me in particular. “Try anything funny tonight and one of these girls will die.”

  One of these girls? I’d bet my life it wouldn’t be Emily. No. He’s too committed to her. My upper lip twitches and I imagine all of the delicious ways I’ll torture him. I’ll make him bleed, make him beg for my forgiveness.

  He turns toward the room full of people and Emily inches closer to me. I reach out and try to touch her porcelain skin only my chains catch me before I make contact.

  I deflate. So close.

  Pete smacks his hand on top of mine, forcing me to lower them. I cut my eyes at him. If Skull didn’t just threaten Emily’s life, I’d headbutt him in the nose.

  I snap my attention to Joel as Skull’s third w
oman, the one who doesn’t seem to be a prisoner at all, swipes her hand along Joel’s jaw. Monique makes a low sound in her chest, but Skull tugs her along with him before she has the chance to get stabby.

  “It’s good to see you.” Grinning, the third woman leans in and plants a gentle kiss by his mouth before tapping his cheek and sauntering away.

  I lift my eyebrows. “What was that about?”

  He licks his lower lip in frustration. “That was…Laura. We did a thing…twice.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course you did.”

  “What? Don’t get all self-righteous with me, Jai,” he says. “You can’t tell me you’d pass her up if she was naked in your bed.”

  “I—”

  “And you didn’t have Emily.”

  I shrug. I’ve never been into girls like Laura, the ones that come with an instruction manual a mile long that’s written in a different language. I prefer low maintenance women, the kind that don’t mind wearing sweat pants and a baggy tee or eating take out like Chinese or greasy pizza.

  “Nah. Easy pass.”

  “You’re full of shit.” He snorts.

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I’m your brother. I know you better than anybody.”

  I turn and watch as Skull leads Emily away. I want to follow her. I want to be near her all night. If I’m lucky, Skull will turn his back long enough for me to talk to her. To touch her.

  Before they’re swallowed up in a sea of elegant gowns and crisp suits, she spares me a glance over her shoulder, a sad expression painting her face.

  I grimace. I have to get her out of here.

  Urging her along, Skull glides his hand lower until it slips into the small of her back. Tugging her against his body, he whispers in her ear, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. And she smiles—albeit small—but it still turns my insides to stone. I grind my teeth, my fists clenching. I am going to tear him apart, limb by tattooed limb, until there’s nothing left. Mark my words.

  “Hey,” Joel says, nudging me with his shoulders. He flicks his head to the left of the party in front of us. “Don’t we know that girl?”