“Try a single fuckin’ thing,” the dark haired man in the front seat growls, aiming his gun at me, “and your brains decorate the back window.”
I sit back, glaring, teeth clenched.
Fuck.
Why the fuck didn’t I get the hell out of here sooner?
The drive to wherever they’re taking me is only about thirty minutes long. And in that thirty minutes, I contemplate every move. Every scenario. I think of every way I may, or fucking may not, be able to escape. When we arrive, I’m hauled from the car like a fucking rag doll and shoved toward an old warehouse. Big, run down, perfect place to hide.
When we step inside, two men are sitting, lounged on a large sofa. The first stands, and the first thing I notice about him is his flaming red hair. There is no missing it. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. A crisp suit, that’s perfectly ironed, covers his body as he strides toward me—cool, calm and collected.
Dangerous.
No doubt about it.
All these clean motherfuckers are.
“Well, well,” he murmurs, stopping in front of me. “They said you looked scarily identical, and they were correct. Hello, Dakoda. I’m sure you know me ...”
I say nothing. Nothing at all.
And I won’t say a single fucking thing.
Not to this bastard.
Not to any of them.
“I’m Shanks.”
That’s him? That’s the motherfucker who runs this show? Who my brother is so fucking afraid of that he’d attempted to take his own life to escape him? Fuck, I could rip him apart with my bare fucking hands.
“I’m sure you know why you’re here,” he goes on, his voice silky smooth and calm. He does this a lot. He’s a pro. That much is clear. “Braxton hasn’t been easy to find, but when I got word of a twin ... Well, you can imagine the plan was fairly simple, bring you here, and Braxton will follow, eventually.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I spit, anger getting the better of me.
It always gets the fuckin’ better of me.
“What then?” I challenge.
Shanks grins. “I have a strong feeling your brother isn’t going to leave you and run. I could be wrong, after all, he isn’t all that smart as I’m sure you well know, but my guess is his conscience won’t let him leave you in our hands.”
“You’d be wrong, then,” I growl. “So you’re better off killin’ me now. My brother ain’t comin’.”
But I know Braxton. I know him well. He can be selfish and hard and all of the shitty things a human can be, but I know, deep in my fucking gut, that when it comes down to it, he’ll come after me. I know it, just as well as I knew when he got into trouble that I’d lay my life on the line for him.
We’ve always had each other’s backs.
I know that won’t change.
“Oh.” Shanks laughs, throwing his head back. “I’m not going to kill you, that would be far too much fun. If Braxton doesn’t show, I’ll torture you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine, until you tell me where he is. Either way, Braxton will come to me, because of you. And I’ll kill him.”
“Torture away,” I hiss, holding his eyes. “I’ll never tell you where my brother is.”
Shanks smiles, and it’s cold and deadly.
“Have it your way. This should be fun.”
He won’t get it out of me.
So help me fucking God, I’ll protect my brother at all costs.
Even if that cost is my life.
-19-
NOW – CHARLIE
Guilt.
It is swarming in my chest, making me feel so uneasy I don’t say a word the whole way home. Even when we get there, I retreat into my room, refusing to speak to anyone. Eventually, the others go home and Koda and I are the only ones to remain. He leaves me be, which I’m grateful for. I don’t need him to make me feel worse than I already feel right now.
The thought of Ellie being still out there, still being tortured, makes me feel sick.
I could have gotten her out that day, I’m sure there would have been a way if I really tried.
But I didn’t.
Not really.
I was so afraid, and because of me, Slater has lived in agony for over ten years, wondering where she is, wondering if she’s okay, or if she’s even alive still.
Because of me.
I push off my bed when the sun has set and walk into the kitchen, finding a bottle of vodka and opening it, drinking four big mouthfuls before slamming it down on the counter beside me.
“Not goin’ to help you feel better.”
I spin around to see Koda walking in, shirtless and fresh out of the shower.
“Don’t tell me what will, and will not, make me fucking feel better, Dakoda. You don’t know shit.”
His hair is dripping, and the droplets are running down his forehead, and god, he looks gorgeous. I hate that I’m so attracted to him. I hate how pathetic he makes me feel, because he doesn’t feel the same. That only makes me angrier until a tense ball feels like it’s building in my stomach, bubbling up until I’m barely able to contain it.
I’m so angry.
At myself.
At Dakoda.
At my life.
Mostly, at my father.
“Snappin’ at me ain’t goin’ to make it better, either.”
I spin around and pick up the closest thing I can find, which happens to be the bottle of vodka. I don’t think, I just hurtle it across the room, right at him. I’m so angry. So bitterly angry. He ducks just in time and the bottle smashes against the wall, sending glass and vodka everywhere.
“Don’t you fucking tell me what’ll make me feel better,” I scream, so loud I scare myself. “You know nothing about me. Fucking nothing. Stop acting like you give a fuck about me. We both know you don’t. You’re as selfish as the fucking rest of them. Just pussy. Just pussy. That’s what you called me. You piece of crap!”
I go to storm out, but Koda moves fast, like a tiger on the hunt. Suddenly, he’s in front of me, slamming my back against the counter, caging me in with his big body. Both of us are panting, and wild, and angry, and at a breaking point. I want to hurt him. God, I hate him.
Only I don’t.
I fucking don’t.
I slam my fists against his chest, over and over, angry and frustrated. Needing to make him suffer, just a little bit. He grabs my wrists and slams them down by my sides before leaning in close until his breath is puffing against my face.
“Do not tell me how I fuckin’ feel, and do not fuckin’ hit me.”
“Just pussy,” I cry out. “That’s what you called me. That’s what you fucking—”
“You want to know if you matter to me,” he roars so loudly in my face, I’m cut off. My words pausing in my throat. “Is that what you want to fuckin’ know? Well, you do. You matter more to me than any other person has mattered since my brother. I don’t fuckin’ like it. Because I don’t like fuckin’ feelin’. I’m here to do a job, and that job is to stop you gettin’ killed. But the very fuckin’ idea of someone hurtin’ you brings a rage and protection to me that I haven’t felt for a very long time. I feel you on a level I’ve never felt another woman. You make me fuckin’ wild, and I don’t understand why. You make me feel things I’ve not felt, and I don’t understand why. All I know is you get me, you fuckin’ get me in a way nobody else ever has. You see my fuckin’ darkness, and you still want to wrap it up in your hands, like it’s a tiny fuckin’ butterfly you can protect. I’m no fuckin’ good for you, Charlie. But you matter to me. Do not fuckin’ doubt it.”
My knees wobble, and screw everything else. I push my head forward, because he has my arms pinned to my side, and I kiss him. I kiss him with a ferocity that hurts my damned soul. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, hell, he even pulls his head back and growls, “Can’t be doin’ this with you. Fuck. I can’t.”
“Fuck what you can and cannot do. I want it. You want it. Stop fighting me, Dakoda.
Because I won’t go away.”
A low growl leaves his throat and he releases my hands, letting my fingers go up to his thick, wet hair, and tangle in the depths. And then he kisses me at the same time he lifts my bottom up and onto the counter top. I spread my legs, letting him step between them, and I kiss him so hard I lose my breath. It’s desperate, and a little angry, and a whole lot frustrated. But it feels like heaven.
Pure heaven.
I release his hair and claw at his chest, running my fingernails down it until I reach his jeans. I fumble with them, needing them gone, needing him inside me, god, something. Anything. I reach into them when they’re undone, curling my fingers around his cock and squeezing. A deep hiss leaves his throat and he steps closer, jerking my night dress up that I got into only an hour ago, and tearing my panties to the side.
Hard.
Deep.
Rough.
Exactly how we both want and need it.
His fingers dig into my ass as he lowers me off the counter and then surprises me by flipping me over so I’m bent over it, chest pressed against the cool wood, ass exposed to him. He runs his fingers down over my ass cheeks and then thrusts one into my pussy from behind. I groan, wiggling, gripping the counter, desperate.
“Fuckin’ drippin’ for me already. Beautiful fuckin’ pussy.”
He steps closer, lining his cock up to my pussy, and then he pushes in. One hard thrust and he’s fully sheathed. I gasp, he growls, and then his fingers dig into my hips as he fucks me. He fucks me so hard items from the bench scatter and smash on the floor as my hands flail around, trying to find something to hold onto as he fucks me into oblivion. I’m screaming, it feels god damned incredible. His skin can be heard slapping against mine, and it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.
“I’m going to come, oh god,” I scream, throwing my head back and bellowing as an orgasm rips through my body.
Thrust after thrust, he drives me into that counter top, and then, finally, he pulls out with a ragged growl and hot spurts of cum tickle and warm my bottom as he shoots his release all over me. I whimper, my body limp, as I feel the last drops hit my flesh.
After a few seconds, Koda pulls me to my feet and leans in, whispering into my ear, “That was only the beginning. I’m not done with you.”
Oh, boy.
~*~*~*~
THEN – CHARLIE
I tell Oliver everything.
It takes me three hours. That’s just to give him the basics. I tell him about my father, my mother, my life, every person I’ve met, what I’ve done, about Carl, about his uncle, and about Ellie. Oliver sits, and he listens the whole time, nodding, his eyes kind and understanding.
Before I spoke, I made him promise that he’d get me protection, and that I wouldn’t get in trouble for my involvement. He agreed, promising that he would keep me safe, that he would make sure I had the life I deserved, if I told him everything he needed to know. After all, everyone knew Benjamin Masters—the problem was he was far too smart for them to get enough on him, to bring him down.
When I’m done telling Oliver everything I can think of, he just stares at me, his eyes warm and locked on mine. “You’re a smart girl, Charlene. Smart and incredibly brave. It takes a lot for someone to go through what you’ve gone through, it truly does. I promise you that when we’re done here, you’ll be free of your father.”
“Are you sure?” I whisper, rubbing my upper arms. “Because he’ll find me and ...”
Oliver nods. “I’m sure. I’ll make sure he goes down, no matter what it takes, and I promise you, you’ll be safe.”
“But I have to go back there, don’t I?”
Oliver smiles warmly, his eyes sympathetic. “If we protect you now, he’ll know you’ve gone and gotten help, and he’ll likely shut down the operation. The only way for us to be able to take him down is for things to remain as normal, until we find out what we can to bring the entire operation down.”
I nod, even though my chest clenches and fear grips me. “And Ellie?”
“I’ll look into the girl, see if I can find any information, see if there is something I can do, without blowing the whole cover. If we barge in there, again, your father will stop what he’s doing and cover his tracks. I hope you understand that to do this, to finally take him down, we have to keep things as normal as possible.”
I nod, because I understand that, I really do.
I’ll do whatever it takes to end this quickly. Whatever it takes.
“Just tell me what you need from me, I’ll give you whatever I have.”
“All we need is a big deal, something major, something we can close in on and destroy a good portion of his operation. Something huge, even.”
I take a shaky breath. My father has something going down soon, it’s why he’s so paranoid about double crossing. Whatever, or whoever, he is trading off with, there is something big happening. I’m doing far more work than usual, and he’s on the edge of his seat, angry and wild all the time.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay, I know there is something big going down soon. I’ll get what I can and get it back to you.”
Oliver nods. “I’ll give you my number, but don’t save it anywhere. Don’t mention my name to anyone, not even those you trust. For this to work, it cannot be known you came here, Charlene. It’s the only way I can ensure your safety until we have you out of your father’s hands.”
I swallow and rub my arms. “I understand. Oliver, can I ask you something?”
He nods, holding my eyes. “Anything?”
“Do you think, if this works, and you get me safe, that I’ll ever be truly free?”
He studies me, and I wonder if he’s just going to give me the answer I want to make me feel better, or if he’ll give my he real answer, the truth, the one we both know is the more likely scenario.
“I can’t promise you complete freedom, Charlene, but what I can promise you, is that I’ll do everything I can, use every resource I have, to keep you safe. And, I’ll do everything I can to make sure your father never, ever gets close to you again. That much, I can promise you.”
And is that enough?
Is that enough to risk everything?
To risk my father finding out?
I put a hand against my throat, to the angry red mark my father’s boot left when he tried to take my life earlier. I go to the scared, broken face of Ellie, still trapped in a basement somewhere. I think about my mother and the fear she lived through in those few seconds before her life was snuffed out. I think of all of it, and I know, the life I’m living right now, it’ll eat me alive if I stay.
Maybe I’ll never have full freedom.
Hell, that’s a high possibility.
But if I stay, if I stay and keep doing his work, my father eventually will take my life the way he took my mother’s. Eventually, his use for me will run out, and he’ll no longer need my help. And when that day comes, he’ll not have a second thought about ending me.
This might not be a guarantee. No.
But it is a chance.
A small, tiny, sliver of hope.
That maybe, just maybe.
I might be able to breathe for the first time in my life.
And even better.
I might actually be able to live.
-20-
NOW – KODA
Feels fucking good. Can’t lie.
Here, in her bed, her wrapped in my arms after I fucked her so any damned times my cock aches. Won’t stop me from taking her again in the morning, that messy bed hair and those rosy cheeks. Fuck. My dick is getting hard again just thinking about it. Thinking about how fucking good it’ll feel. And it will. Fucking good. In my mouth, I can still taste her sweet pussy, I can hear the sounds of her moans as she squirmed beneath me.
Fucking perfect.
And, I know I shouldn’t be doing it, but fucked if I can stay away any longer.
I’m tired of even trying to.
But I haven’t been complete
ly honest with her, and I know eventually I’ll have to tell her my reasons for wanting to protect her, for wanting to be around her, for wanting in on this so bad. Because of her father, and my brother, and everything it all stands for to me. She’s not going to like it. Fuck no, she’s going to hate it, in fact. But I had to do it.
Now, though, I’m starting to realize it might just cost me her.
And I didn’t think that was going to be a problem, until now.
“What are you thinking about?” Charlie asks me, her fingers stroking over my chest.
Feels fucking nice.
Comforting.
Something I’ve never allowed a woman to do.
“Thinkin’ about fuckin’ you again,” I murmur, turning and pressing my face into her hair.
Fuck.
That smell.
Incredible.
She makes a whiny sound, and it’s fucking sweet. “No way you could possibly be thinking about that, Koda. Seriously. You’re insane.”
“Can’t help it when you smell so fuckin’ good and it feels so fuckin’ good to be inside you.”
She turns her head and looks up at me, those eyes soft and fucking beautiful, face calm. God she’s fucking cute.
“Really?”
I hold her eyes. “Really.”
She nods, turning and snuggling back into me. Like a little puppy, trying to get closer, like she just isn’t getting enough.
“Koda?” she asks me, her voice soft.
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you something?”
I inhale, then exhale slowly and murmur, “Yeah.”
“I feel guilty, about Ellie.”
Ellie.
The poor girl who is fuck knows where and has been fuck knows where for a very long fucking time. And Slater, spending his life chained to Shanks, in hopes he might be able to find her. A fucked-up story, indeed.
“Not your fault, Charlie. You couldn’t have gotten her out, you know those people as well as anyone, you’d have been killed on the spot or worse, chained down there with her.”
She goes silent for a moment, and then whispers, “But I saw her, she was so scared, begging me to help. And I walked out. It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever done in my life, Koda. I should have called the police then and there, screw my father’s operation, screw it all. At least she might have had a fighting chance.”