Claimed (Blood Ties Book 6)

The low hiss of the shower slipped under the door, finding me as I stood in the hallway, listening. I’d stepped out the minute the doctor left, knowing they were both in there. My brother…alone with Wildcat. My jaw flexed, clenching. But it was that nagging voice in my head that wouldn’t leave me alone.

Because you know who he is now.

I shook my head. No. I didn’t. He was my brother who’d just survived almost a goddamn month of being beaten and tortured.

He’s not in his right mind, and you’re scared. You’re so fucking scared, you’re prepared to stand here all night. That’s the truth, isn’t it?

It wasn’t. I was…concerned. That’s all.

Oh yeah? Then tell me, dickhead, why the gun?

I flinched, my breaths deepening as I looked down.

The Sig was in my grip, finger on the slide, muzzle pointed down. An ache flared across my chest. That panicked feeling threatened to return. The one that’d render me helpless. One I’d had before Vivienne came into our lives.

When you were a kid, right?

Being ripped away from your brother.

You knew what they were going to do.

You saw that savagery in him.

That…wounded fucking animal in his eyes when he returned.

You knew…that’s why you’re fucking terrified. Tell me, champ. If he hurts her…what are you going to do?

I shook my head, wincing as that band cinched tighter across my chest. My brother…or the woman I loved. The woman we both loved. If Colt was in his right mind, if he could speak to me, I knew exactly what he’d say.

Whatever it takes, brother. Whatever it fucking takes. You protect her, you fucking bastard. You. Protect. Her.

I could hear his voice in my head. Feel his fucking desperation like it was my own. Because it was, right?

I loved her.

I fucking loved…her.

Fear filled me, turning my attention to the shower as I fought the need to go in there. What the fuck were they doing, anyway? It had to be a goddamn hour…until silence came. Empty fucking silence. Was she hurt? Was she dead? I could see it now. Her neck snapped, her body slumped against the cold tiled floor. Eyes wide, staring at my brother standing over her dead body.

Christ. That’s it. I turned, grabbed the handle, and bore down…but the indistinct sound of her voice stopped me. She was alive and coaxing him into bed. I eased my hold, letting the handle bounce back as I pressed against the door.

“There.” I heard her murmur through the door. “All dried.”

“Stay.”

That husky plea was the first time I’d heard him speak since we’d found him. Just one word, given to her. Stay.

“Okay. Whatever you need, but I need a shower first.”

I jerked my gaze to the door. She was coming out…going to shower in her room. I’d follow her in, tell her he was dangerous. Thought you said he wasn’t? Thought you said you weren’t worried?

“Shut the fuck up,” I mouthed and took a step back, but the moment I did, the sound of my brother’s shower came again.

She wasn’t coming. Of course she wasn’t. She was going to say there, watching his every goddamn move. Because that’s what kind of woman she was. I closed my eyes. We didn’t deserve her. We didn’t fucking deserve to be in her goddamn sphere. That’s how fucking incredible she was.

I took a step away, turned, then slowly sank to the floor. The shower stopped running. I tracked the sound of her steps to the bed…before nothing.

Was my brother asleep? I hoped so.

I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes until sometime later the heavy thud of London’s steps headed my way. I opened my eyes and stood as he stopped in front of me.

“Is she okay?”

I gave a nod.

Relief sagged his shoulders with a heavy breath. “Thank Christ for that. I don’t know what I’d do if we lost her or the baby after everything else tonight.”

Baby…my mind spun.

London’s gaze went to the gun in my hand before he met my stare. “Our baby, son. Our. Baby.”

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t react, not even when he placed his hand on my shoulder, took one last look at Colt’s bedroom door, then turned and walked away, disappearing into his own room.

A baby?

The hallway swayed. I winced, slamming my hand against my chest. She was fucking pregnant? Colt had had his hand around her goddamn throat and shoved against the fucking wall in that slaughterhouse. And she’d fucking launched herself across that rotted-out floor like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing.

It was everything.

She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant.

What if I was the father?

My knees shook. I gripped the doorway, trying my best to steady myself as the world spun. I stood there for I didn’t know how long, staring at the goddamn wall while I replayed every time I’d fucked her. Christ, don’t let it be that first time…the time when I’d been such a bastard.

I was so transfixed by the thought of that, I didn’t realize that sounds were coming within the room, barely audible murmurs, savage guttural sounds.

“If you’re not Colt, then who are you?” Her husky voice slipped under the door.

I moved, pressing my hand against the wall, straining to hear as my brother answered. “Beast.”

Beast…

I shook my head.

“Oww,” she cried out. I snapped my gaze up.

Don’t do it! I roared inside my head, my hand clenched around the gun. All I could think of was that life inside her. The family I’d never thought we’d have.

“Stop…Colt,” she barked.

Move! Move…now!

My fucking hand trembled as I reached for the door handle.

“It’s okay.” Her voice trembled, but it was stronger, full of determination. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

He wouldn’t, would he? Because if he wanted to, he’d already had plenty of opportunity.

The deep, animal grunts came once more. But they weren’t a warning. No. They were a claiming.

“Wildcat,” he murmured. “Mine.”

Anger flared. Jealousy seethed inside me. I shouldn’t feel like this. Not with the one person I’d shared my entire life with, but I couldn’t stop that searing hunger. My cheeks burned. My breaths were a strangled fight for air.

I wanted her.

I fucking wanted her.

I stayed there for too long, torturing myself with the sounds of my brother fucking her like an animal, before I left. But I couldn’t go to my room, couldn’t force myself to sleep in the bedroom next to Colt’s. Instead, I went to the gym, hit the lights on, and grabbed the wrapping for my hands.

I wanted to hit something.

I wanted to tear it apart.

Anything to stop me from charging back to that room and listening to whatever that thing which possessed my brother was fuck the woman I loved. I neared the punching bag. Memories flickered.

Reach up, grab the bag.

My own hunger was so close to the surface. I could almost hear the rattle of the chains as she’d arched her back. I’d fucked her here…fucked her while those bastards did their best to kill my brother.

Oh, my God. That’s Haelstrom Hale.

I reached out and grabbed the bag as that woman’s cry filled my head. They’d tried to kill my brother. They’d tried to kill Vivienne, and now he was what? Fucking dead?

I pulled my hand back and drove it through the air, straight into the leather. The bag bounced, then again as I slammed my other fist home.

“You motherfucker.” I unleashed, swung my body around, and whipped my leg into the air with a roundhouse kick. “You goddamn, motherfucking bastard!”

My fists were a blur.

The bag was bruising as I used my knees, slamming them into the side over and over again. Every cell in my body screamed in agony. But it was my mind that drove me, my mind that howled for justice…and wrath.

He was gone.

They were all gone.

We had nothing but the destruction we’d left behind.

That wasn’t enough. It wasn’t anywhere near enough.