Owned (Blood Ties Book 4)

“Oww.” I stopped pacing the length of my bedroom and looked down, gently pulling out my blouse to see the crimson stain. “Sonofabitch.”

I tenderly cupped my breast, wincing. The pain was a dull, aching throb. But that was nothing compared to the sting of his betrayal. I should’ve known…should’ve not expected anything different from him. “Stupid…stupid goddamn idiot.”

I did feel like an idiot.

He made me feel like that.

Like I was so fucking weak and gullible.

And for a second I was, wasn’t I?

Carried away by the fantasy of London being anything other than a cruel, controlling piece of shit. I glanced at the shattered camera ground into the plush carpet. Obsessive, lying bastard. I clenched my fists. Destroying the camera wasn’t enough. It wasn’t anywhere near enough. I wanted to tear his goddamn house apart and ruin his life until he made the decision to let me go.

Just like he’d let Ryth go.

I carefully pressed my hand against the wound, then looked at the smear. Burning anger crackled inside me. I’d make him want to get rid of me. I could do it, too. I’d had a lifetime of being shut down, locked away, smothered, and not wanted. I flinched. That hurt more than any goddamn cut under my breast. I lowered my hand to the tattoo on my abdomen.

Not wanted.

Just used.

But I wasn’t going to be used anymore. I wasn’t going to wear red. Not anymore. I was done allowing others to control me. I strode to the door and yanked it open. Fear trembled through me as I stepped out into the hallway.

I searched the foyer, finding silence. It wasn’t too late for me to run. I’d find Ryth and her brothers. Or, hell, I’d be on my own if it came to that. No one to not want me anymore.

London could keep his tracker in me for all I cared. He could watch me on the cameras day and night as well, as long as I was far away from The Order. As I headed for the stairs, that fear turned back to anger. Silence filled the air, but I knew I wasn’t alone. I knew there were men out there watching me, making sure I didn’t do anything stupid, like try to run.

I made my way to the kitchen. The thought of cutting that thing out of myself and leaving his pathetic ass behind rose until I pushed it away. I wouldn’t get a foot outside the house before the guards got me. Besides, I had Ryth to think about.

Her safety, and her freedom were at the sacrifice of mine, and London made sure I knew that, even if she wasn’t aware. If she’d known, there was no way she would’ve run without me. I knew that.

We had a connection, one I’d felt the moment I stepped into her room that night at The Order. I knew we’d be friends. I knew we’d be allies. I needed that now more than ever.

I made my way around the dark stone kitchen counter, dragging my fingers along the surface, leaving a smear behind, then headed back to his study. Now that I was alone, I wanted to see what other secrets London St. James held.

The fact he’d been watching me for years was goddamn creepy, but it was the why that plagued me. Why me? What could I possibly give him? I was no one. Just a pain in everyone’s ass, shoved from a controlling girls’ home to foster parents who hated me. I walked back along the hallway, stopped at the study door, and pushed the handle.

But it was locked, the tiny sensor light glowing red. “Figures.” I turned and scanned the walls, then lifted my gaze to search for the cameras I now knew were planted all through this house, just like he’d planted them in that bastard Killion’s house.

God, this shit was crazy.

Kidnapping.

Murder.

Trafficking.

So much trafficking.

These men weren’t just dangerous—they were filthy rich, too. I gave up trying to understand any of it. Now, I was just trying to survive. “And find a goddamn way out of this.”

I left the study behind, made my way past the kitchen, and turned, making my way into the most stunning formal dining room I’d ever seen. A massive branch hung suspended over the long, elegant table. One made of the most sensational array of small white lights I’d ever seen. It sparkled, even without being switched on. Black, red, and gray consumed the space from the plush leather seats, gleaming glass table top, and gorgeous red flowers. The colors were muted and murky behind dark, closed blinds.

I left the room behind and headed back to the kitchen, stopping at the one door that made me catch my breath. The lock glowed red. I didn’t need to reach out to know that the way downstairs to the basement was barred. Still, I felt myself reach out and test the handle, fighting an acute surge of desire.

Thump.

The lock held. Part of me was thankful, the other part…the dangerous part, wasn’t. I turned away, fighting that battle inside and headed for the stairs, glancing at the door to the garage before I climbed the stairs. Locked doors, rules and control. I felt like I was going crazy here…I would go crazy here if I didn’t get out, and soon.

I stopped at the landing on the second floor, my focus turning to his bedroom. I half expected an electric lock on his door, just like the one he had on mine. But there wasn’t any. I moved without thinking, making my way closer, excitement thrumming in my veins.

I swallowed hard as I glanced over my shoulder. I hated how I felt like a damn child, then I turned back, twisted the handle of his bedroom door, and stepped in. His scent hit me like a rag pressed against my face. I froze, hard breaths sawing, which only seemed to make it worse.

I stared into the gloom. Even in the middle of the day, the room was pitch black. Closed off from the world with electronic blackout shutters, it spoke a lot of the man. “Cold and callous, that’s what.”

My steps were soundless as I moved toward his bed. But I stopped at the edge and stared down. I couldn’t move, couldn’t bring myself to touch, couldn’t do a damn thing. Looking at the soft gray velvet covering invoked the same reaction as that leather bench in that room in the basement.

Fear gripped me.

Fear like I’d never felt before.

My pulse was booming, breaths panting.

The room started to spin. I turned and raced for the door, leaving the heady scent of him behind. Bang! I slammed the bedroom door behind me. My hand trembled gripping the handle as I stared at the landing before I forced myself to move. My knees shook, making me grip the banister for strength. Jesus, I thought I was going to pass out.

How the hell can a damn bedroom affect me like that?

How the hell can he affect me like that?

My mind spun.

And my pussy throbbed.

I needed to get a handle on this.

I needed to get some control.

I needed—I ground my teeth—my anger. That’s what I needed, my rage. That throb at my breast invaded, making me lift my hand and cup the swell. Hissing at the sting, I climbed until I came to my floor once more. But I wasn’t done with my vengeance. I wasn’t anywhere near done.

A memory invaded. A sound outside my bedroom door, followed by the shuffle of steps.

The sons…

I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing. My own voice echoed back to me, followed by the quiet, husky response of a man. Can you?

Can you?

Can…you?

“Yes, I could, motherfucker,” I snarled and headed along the hallway past my room until it sank into the gloom. “I could.”

There were three doors. Two opposite and one at the end. I chose that one, pushing the handle and shoving it open. The door hit against the wall with a boom. I stepped in and scanned the sparse bedroom. The king-sized bed was unmade, the mattress brand new. The bedroom had been lived in. The walk-in closet door was open, showing the faint outline of clothes hanging inside.

I made my way over, flicked on the light, and stared at the space. A black leather jacket, a motorcycle helmet. Expensive shoes were still in the box and it looked like three brand new black tuxedos still wrapped in plastic were pushed to the back.

The room looked like one that was supposed to be lived in, but it wasn’t. The things here were forgotten, or stowed away like they weren’t important. There was nothing here for me. I walked out, closed the door behind me, and turned to the door on the right.

A turn of the handle and I stepped into the bathroom. Porcelain gleamed when I switched on the light and glass sparkled. Two plush black towels hung from the towel rack and an array of expensive men’s cologne and skin care bottles sat between two basins. Body wash and shampoo waited in the shower stall, but I turned and left, leaving the door open this time, as I faced the last unexplored room.

This had to be one of their rooms. Where the other one lived, I wasn’t sure. I stepped up, turned the handle, and pushed open the door. Darkness and the heady scent of pain and sweat swallowed me in an instant, rocking me.

“Oh,” I groaned as I breathed deep, then bowed my head.

My body clenched and tightened, warming, making me fucking hate them even more. I forced myself into the room, then reached and flicked on the light. But the light wasn’t brilliant, the low glow filled the room just enough to spill across the two single beds against the wall on either side.

But it wasn’t just the beds that made me stop and stare. “What the fuck?” I moved toward the one hugging the wall on the far side of the room. The black comforter was pulled up neat as a pin, the pillow indented in the middle. Steel gleamed, lying across the middle of the bed.

What the hell was this?

I leaned down and fingered the thick straps and steel shackles. They were almost the same as the ones downstairs in the basement, the ones London had threatened me with before. But these were wider and thicker, stitched in Velcro as well as the metal clasps. My mind raced, imagining the twins here. Was it the cruel blond asshole? Or the quiet one…

My mind raced as I turned and took in the rest of the room. There was a desk against the wall. Gold gleamed from a very expensive looking gaming console. The sight of it gripped me. I glanced back to the beds against the walls. If there was any way to piss them off, it was to trash their plaything.

The thought grew fangs and bit deep.

I was moving before I knew it as I touched the pristine desk and shoved the wide desk chair aside. “I’ll show you what happens when you cage me.”

My voice trembled. Fear gripped me tightly as I clasped my hands around the gleaming PlayStation console. There was a second when I thought twice about this, about the shackles on the pathetic single bed and the perfect console in my hands. But I forced that voice aside, sucking in hard breaths. Just do it…just do it…just—

I yanked hard, tearing the cords free as movement came from the doorway.

Shadows moved in against the door.

Two of them.

I jerked my gaze toward piercing blue eyes as the blond stepped inside. Rage sparked in his stare as he looked from my face to the console in my hands as I lifted it over my head. “Don’t,” he growled.

The one behind him didn’t move.

He didn’t say a goddamn thing.

But it was the asshole with the peroxided hair I fixed on, the one who liked to threaten…let’s see how he threatens me now. I heaved the machine down, using all the force I had.

“NO!” the asshole screamed as he flung himself through the air until he slammed into me.

I was lifted and driven backwards as the room tilted.

“You fucking BITCH!” he roared.

I slammed backwards, bouncing on the mattress until the hard metal shackles dug into my back. “FUCK YOU!” I screamed, bucking and fighting.

“You goddamn selfish bitch!” he shouted, looming above me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

All I saw were those eyes. All I felt was his hands. His body…his scent was overwhelming. I lifted my head from the bed, lips curled, spitting the word in his face. “Yes!”

He froze, his eyes wide as he jerked a panicked look over his shoulder to his brother, who still stood in the doorway. “It’s okay.” He lowered his tone. “Colt, it’s okay.”

I didn’t understand why he was so scared for his brother, nor at that moment did I care. I lashed out, driving my hand to his face, until he struck and grasped my wrist, moving faster than I’d ever seen anyone move before.

That rage glinted in his stare as he turned back to me.

“You like to slap,” he snarled, his gaze narrowing. “But I’m not London, little girl.” He drove my wrist back and slammed it against the buckle on the bed. “You don’t get to hit me.”

“Get the fuck off me, NOW!” I roared, fighting as hard as I could.

But I was pathetically weak against his cruel hands and savage ways. He unleashed a snarl as he tore his gaze from mine to my hand over my head. He moved, and stood up. The clink of steel sounded before leather closed around my wrist. It happened so fast. One minute I was thrashing and struggling, the next one wrist was tethered above me and he moved to the other, closing the Velcro around me.

“Stop!” I kicked, driving my hips from the bed. “Let me go, NOW!”

The blue-eyed bastard just slowly rose, staring down at me. I knew instantly when that cold, controlled rage shifted to something else. He looked down, his gaze fixed on my breasts. Cold air slipped in through the gaps of my blouse. I sucked in a breath and looked down, to see buttons missing.

“Colt,” the bastard called his brother and inhaled. “How are you doing, buddy?”

How was he doing? I was the one strapped to a fucking bed with a goddamn murderer standing above me. If this asshole thought I didn’t remember what he’d done in that warehouse, then he was fucking delusional. “I saw you!” I snarled, baring my teeth. “I saw you kill all those men.”

He froze, his brow pinching. “You saw me, huh?”

God, he was so calm. So fucking calm…

An icy lick of terror passed through me as the mute twin stepped in from the doorway, bits of his shattered console crunching under his boots.

“So you know what I’m capable of,” his brother added above me, drawing my gaze. “That’s good. I don’t have to pretend. I hate pretending.”

He sank to the edge of the bed, sitting beside me. “We’re going to get you a new one, Colt,” he reassured, staring down at me. “Just as soon as I…”

His big hand closed over my breast, his fingers sliding between the gaps of my blouse.

“Stop!” I barked. “Get your murderous hands off me!”

“Murder isn’t all these hands have done,” he growled, then yanked my blouse, widening the gap.

His fingers found my nipple, thumbing it as he rose and leaned over me. He braced one hand against the bed as the other gently massaged my breast. I winced with the instant flare of pain.

I froze, feeling the heat of his breath against my ear. “No part of the party, slash, parties, right?” he murmured. “That’s what the contract says. But we’re not a party, daughter. No, we’re not a fucking party at all.”

His hand left my breast and moved lower, pushing under the waistband of my slacks, forcing his way.

“CARVEN!”

I jolted with London’s roar as it filled the bedroom.

“Get off her, now!”

The bastard just smirked, then leaned closer, whispering, “Looks like daddy saves you again, wildcat. But it’s only a matter of time…only a matter of time, then he’ll be too late.”

I held my breath, waiting, as he slowly rose.

There was a twitch in the corner of his mouth…

Before London strode into the room, looking at the shattered remains of the console, then placed his hand on the mute twin’s shoulder. “We will deal with this. Don’t worry.”

Then he turned that savage, icy glare my way.