Owned (Blood Ties Book 4)

The howl of a saw faded in the background. I barely heard it as I stared at the photo of that vile fucking cunt on the wall of the warehouse. My mind was frozen, stuck on the fleeting image of the second London’s gaze meeting mine when I’d burst into that fucking party.

The utter fucking relief in his eyes stayed with me and I couldn’t shake it free.

Metal scraped on metal. The clang of shovels tried to invade before the heavy thud of footsteps pushed in and my brother grabbed my shoulder. I turned, met his gaze, and nodded. “I’m okay.”

He scowled, and picked me apart with that cutting stare. I looked away and found anything else to focus on. He didn’t want to be in my head, not tonight. Instead, I turned back to the wall of photos and details, narrowing in on the fucking bitch I wanted to kill above all. The vile, child-beating, soulless fucking bitch who was far too close to Haelstrom Hale for me to kill.

For now…

I stared at her picture, seeing again the look of sickening relief on London’s face when he’d pushed up from his knees. He’d knelt in front of her. That alone made me want to drag a blade across her throat and watch her bleed out. No one made London kneel, not like that. Not unless he wanted to, and I knew there was no fucking way in hell he’d want to for her…

The daughter, now that was another female altogether.

She was different. I glanced at Colt as he closed up the now empty cold room and locked it. No, the daughter was…one of us. I headed for the door and followed my brother outside to the Explorer. In the distance, white light flashed in the sky, but I barely saw it. Instead, I climbed into the Explorer and started the engine.

The car door thudded beside me. I strangled the wheel, feeling fucking dangerous.

Those wide dark eyes of the man who protected us haunted me as I pulled out of the compound, stopping long enough to wait for the gate to close behind me. Rain smacked the windscreen. I hit the wipers, then pulled out.

Neon white ripped a jagged hole through the darkened sky in front of us.

I didn’t even see it.

Instead, I sucked in hard breaths. My focus narrowed in on that rage trapped inside me. I needed an outlet. I needed…to fight. I drove my boot against the accelerator, pulled away from the compound, and headed west.

Silence filled my world.

Leaving me free to hunt.

Headlights bounced off the rain from the oncoming cars. I pushed through the streets as I headed to the outskirts of seedy suburbs where the law never came, turned into the familiar dead-end street, and slowed to a crawl. Fires burned in barrels, the flickering amber glow more than something to stave off the cold. Men stood around as they warmed their hands, watched us, and nodded as we crept past. One of them pulled a phone out of his pocket and typed out a message.

They’d know we were coming.

Good.

I slowed at the crumbling brick wall and waited for the black steel gate to slide open before I drove through. I parked, scanned the other cars that packed the yard, and killed the engine before I climbed out. Thunder snarled, the deep sound booming above us as I headed for the guy standing in the middle of the doorway.

Hands up.

The guy moved a wand over my body before he gave a nod and stepped aside. I strode in, still scanning the darkness of the abandoned warehouse, and cut through the demolition site in the middle of the building before I eased toward the back.

The guttural roars of men pulled me closer. Even from here I could smell the blood.

I stepped through the crumbling doorway to the fight room. Three rings were in play. One guy was taking a brutal fucking beating. His face was a fucking mess as he stumbled backwards and swung at his opponent, who just stepped out of the way, smiled, then swung, drove his fist upwards, and took the guy down.

Shouts followed and hands were thrown into the air as some of the spectators turned away in disgust.

They should.

The guy was a weak idiot.

I scanned the cars parked against the demolished external wall, narrowing in on one as I strode past. The Ares brothers were here. I scanned the rest of the cars for the Rossi’s before I turned back to the four brothers that sat on the hood of their black Maserati. The oldest nodded as I neared. I didn’t acknowledge him, which pissed the youngest brother off and it seemed like he wanted to make an example of me.

The young punk saw my lack of acknowledgement and slid from amongst his three older brothers and took a step toward me before he was stopped by Silas Ares, the oldest of the brothers. Anger sparked in the young brother’s eyes as he turned to his brother. I caught the word sons muttered as thunder boomed overhead.

The punk stopped instantly and his eyes widened. He looked at me a little more cautiously then, staring as I walked past and headed toward Iron, who stood at the end of the row of parked cars.

He closed his eyes the moment he saw me. A hard inhale was followed by a long, slow release as I reached into my pocket, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and tossed it through the air toward him. A fat hand lashed out and snatched it mid-air before he stared at the bundle. “Carven.”

“I want in.”

Iron shook his head as he stared at the money, until some schmuck gave a low chuckle behind him. “You know we’re supposed to pay you, right?” the idiot spoke, drawing my gaze.

Until Iron lashed out and smacked the six-foot idiot in the back of the head. “Shut the fuck up.”

I leveled my gaze on the asshole. “Iron…”

“Look, C. It’s like this…” Iron started. “We don’t want—”

I reached back into my pocket and pulled out another, smaller wad and handed it over as I still stared at the stupid cocksucker who now glared at me.

“Jesus,” Iron muttered as he reached out and took the money. “It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“You fight?” I asked the asshole.

The smile wasn’t so cocky as he stared at the second fistful of cash. Slowly it dawned on him, I wasn’t here to earn money…I was here to kill.

Boom!

Thunder cracked loudly right overhead. In the neon glow of the lightning, I saw the idiot shift his gaze behind me. “Jesus, man…you okay?”

And slowly it hit me…harder than a fist full of brass knuckles. I spun and found the wide, terrified stare of my brother. He wasn’t just pale…he was white. Blood splatter looked neon against his bloodless cheek. “Jesus, Colt.” I stumbled toward him. “Look at me…Colt!”

He didn’t move, frozen, as he stared at that fading brilliant light. FUCKING IDIOT! I grabbed him and moved in front of him, trying desperately to catch his gaze. “Hey…hey, look at me.”

“What the fuck is wrong with him?”

I spun on the fucker, lunged to grab him by his shirt, and roared. “You don’t fucking look at him. YOU UNDERSTAND?’

My roar was swallowed by the cheering of those who watched the fights…they didn’t see…except for the Ares family. They watched, and I felt every fucking stare before I shoved the guy backwards and turned to Iron. “Thirty minutes…give me thirty fucking minutes.”

The organizer looked at the money in his hand. “Not a minute more.”

That’d be all I needed. I grabbed my brother by the arm and pushed him toward the doorway. I didn’t look at the Mafia assholes as we passed. All I saw was Colt. I’d been so wrapped up in my rage, too fucking controlled by the image of London in my head, I’d forgotten all about the one fucking person who mattered above all.

“It’s going to be okay,” I reassured as I pushed him through the door and out of the building. “You hear me? It’s going to be okay.”

The rush of his panicked breaths was so fucking loud. I opened his car door and pushed him inside. He just let me, sitting there, frozen with fear. I yanked the seatbelt down and snapped it into place before I closed his door gently and ran for the driver’s side. Carefully, I closed the door and hoped it muffled the sound a little.

Boom!

Thunder cracked overhead again, making my brother unleash a cry of terror. His fisted hands clenched even tighter. I cast a panicked glance his way and fucking prayed. “It’s going to be okay. You hear me?” I started the engine and shoved the car into reverse.

I didn’t give a fuck about anything other than getting Colt home. Stones kicked up behind the Explorer as I skidded sideways, almost ramming the gate as we tore out of the compound. I cast panicked glances at him and reached over to grab his arm as I drove like a madman. “I’m going to get you home and get you settled, okay?”

He said nothing, just flinched as lightning flashed above.

Thunder would follow.

Inside my head, I counted. But it wasn’t my savage snarl I heard, it was a terrified scream of myself at ten years old. They’d beat him as I screamed. They’d cut him. They’d broken him. Their fists and belts were relentless as the lightning hit and the thunder crashed. He’d never truly escaped that place, had always known they’d come for him when the storm hit.

But not me, right?

Not me…because he’d taken my beatings.

“It’s going to be okay,” I murmured, pushing the four-wheel drive harder. “It’s going to be okay.”

I skidded as I turned into our street and all but mounted the curb as I pulled into the driveway. The garage door opened as I pulled in beside the black Mercedes. Where was the Audi? The thought hit me before I shove it aside. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, only getting my brother upstairs to his room.

I climbed out and ran around to the passenger side as thunder hit again with a deafening crack!

Colt couldn’t move.

He just stared, his fists clenched so tight the muscles of his arms strained.

“Come on…just follow me, just follow,” I urged, pulling his arm.

“I’m here,” London called behind me as he cut across the garage.

I stepped to the side and he pushed into the passenger’s space and into my brother’s view. “Hey, I’m right here, buddy. Come on, come back to me. I’m right here. I’m taking you upstairs, okay?”

He seemed to come around a little as he shifted that stare to London and slowly nodded. Together, we eased him out and across the garage. The lights were on. London was still dressed in his tux. I wanted to look for the daughter as we climbed the stairs and strode past her bedroom door, headed for our own. But I forced all thoughts of her aside. My only concern now was my brother.

“Easy now,” London urged as he crossed the room to yank down the bedding.

“He needs to shower,” I said as I glanced at the blood splatter on his cheek.

“Let’s just get through tonight and we can worry about that in the morning.”

I glanced at our guardian and saw the haunted look in his eyes as he met my stare then looked away. That savage rage seethed inside me. But I forced it aside and walked my brother to the single fucking bed he still used after all these years.

He’d tried to live a normal life, even sleeping in here alone. But night terrors and the haunted look I saw on his face every morning when we weren’t together made me move my shit in from the room next door and back into his. But not even I could help on nights like tonight.

“Feet up, buddy,” London urged as Colt lay down on the bed.

Seeing London care for my blood made that rage inside me burn even bolder. He was so careful, talking to him the entire time. “We’re going to get you strapped in, okay?” He yanked Colt’s boot off, then his sock, and started on the other. “We’re going to get you strapped in nice and tight. You’re not going to hurt us, okay?”

He dropped the boots and looked at me. “His jeans.”

I nodded, unbuttoned my brother’s jeans, and eased them down.

“You’re not going to hurt us. You’re not going to hurt yourself,” London murmured as I yanked the jeans down his thick thighs and tight calves until I tugged them off, which just left him in his black t-shirt and boxers.

There was blood on his shirt and a darkened patch stuck against his chest. I wanted to at least change him, but I couldn’t worry about that now. All I needed to worry about was strapping him in.

Rip!

The Velcro sounded at the same time as a deafening boom! cracked directly over us. Colt cried out and slammed his eyes closed. I lunged to grab the straps at the head of his bed and slipped them over his wrists. “You’re going to be fine, buddy. You’re going to be fine.”

I secured the tether around his wrists over his head. His muscles were bulging, his blue eyes bulged wide. But he was holding it in somehow. I’d seen him at his worst, when he’d trashed the room as he tried to fight the demons of his past. He hit me once, knocked me the fuck out. He was the only person who I was cautious of. After that night, he’d made us strap him down.

London secured his legs in place, then rose to look down at my brother. “All strapped in now.”

Boom!

Colt bucked with the sound, biting down to swallow his scream. I hated seeing him like this, hated the sight of those fucking straps and I hated that we had to use them even more. Colt closed his eyes and forced the word through clenched teeth. “Go.”

“Go?” London glanced at me in question.

I knew instantly. “No, I’m staying.” I muttered.

My brother opened his eyes and turned to me. “Go, you need to.”

I inhaled hard. That savagery inside me still waited. He knew if I didn’t let it out it’d only grow worse, until I did something stupid. London said nothing. He didn’t need to. He knew, we all did. No one survived what we had without being royally fucked up.

“Go,” Colt urged as he jerked those wild eyes my way. “Now.”

The mere fact he spoke showed just how desperate he was. I gave a slow nod. “Okay. If you’re sure you’ll be okay here on your own.”

He just glared, clenched his jaw, and gave a tiny nod.

“I’ll check in while you’re gone,” London urged. “Do what you need to, son.”

I glanced at my brother. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”