CAPTOR (The Alpha Brotherhood) (Standalone Dark Billionaire New Adult Romance) (21 page)

“That’s the sister that Marlowe murdered?”

“Not really murdered. Just used up until there was nothing left. Adam didn’t really care that much about being with her then, he was just a kid she mostly ignored.” Shane pulls me down into his lap when he sits on the couch.

I kiss his forehead, urging him to continue. “I’m listening.”

“I hesitated at the offer. There was something disturbing about Rupert. But we only had 24 hours to decide and I said yes. It just came out of my mouth.”

“Why you two?”

“Well, the old man is old school. Grew up in an Oliver Twist style orphanage, became incredibly successful. He had a thing for smart white boys in rough areas.”

“Like, a nationwide search? That was probably a lot of kids.”

Shane nods. “He’d get his hands on our grades, our standardized test scores, and go from there. Later on, I discovered that one of his qualifiers was violence. Adam was always something of a bully. I wasn’t. But I got in a fight once and wrecked this kid, even though I was smaller.” Closing his eyes, Shane rubs his temple. “That one moment. I landed one good punch, and it was the lucky shot that changed my life forever. The thing is, once the kid went down, I blacked out and didn’t stop hitting him. Beat him to a pulp and got suspended. Nobody fucked with me at school after that.”

His fist is clenched, so I wrap my hand around it. “Funny how that stuff stays with you, isn’t it? Girls aren’t as violent, but it was hard for me, too. I was a brooding artsy type, a pretty easy target for the cheerleaders.”

“Ever try kicking one of their asses?”

“No, the most effective form of revenge was to fuck one of their boyfriends, even if you got called a slut afterwards. That obviously wasn’t my thing,” I say. Shane laughs, but his gaze falls away from mine and starts staring into nothingness. “Where did Rupert take you?”

He’s quiet for a few moments, hesitating. “The living conditions were strange,” he finally whispers. “One huge room with 50 beds. No privacy, barely any supervision, no intervention at all by the adults if there was a fight. We went to school there, ate there, and learned about the real world. 50 angry, scared little tough guys, bullying each other until we cracked. One sign of weakness, one incident of asking for help, and you were out.”

“Out to where?”

“Back into the system. I’ll always remember the look on the first boy’s face. The fifth week. Dudley. The name alone damned him. All he really did was cry from a bloody nose. You never cry, and if you do, you better be in the fucking bathroom. The only place you could find a moment of peace, and it was a fleeting moment.”

His voice cracks, his eyes becoming glassy. Shane turns his face as he inhales a sniffling breath. I want to give him a little privacy without leaving him, so I lean forward and hide my head under his chin. His arms rest on my waist, his fingers gently stroking the bare skin on the small of my back.

“The other boys were taking his food, too. I’m sure that had something to do with it. Dudley never should have been there to begin with. Rupert threw in a runt, a wounded chicken to get pecked off early. It set the tone, it taught us all a lesson. Solve your own problems, no holds barred. That part lasted for two years. By then there were only 19 of us left. The last six months were relatively peaceful. The academic stakes were raised significantly, it took up a lot of our time. And we were all pretty equally matched, and even… bonded in a sense.”

“Was your brother Trent there?”

“Yes. The three of us were tight, along with some others we lost along the way. You know those reality shows where people form alliances? It was similar to that.”

“Adam said something about Stage 3. What’s that?”

“Well Stage 2 was the extra school work 4 of the 19 were cut for performance inadequacies, right at the end. The shock on their faces, after all that time, all that brutality…” Shane shakes his head like he’s trying to cast off the memory. “No one else realized that we were being evaluated that way, but I did. I stayed out of trouble, didn’t pick enough fights, and I knew it. But he kept me because I was the smartest of the whole lot even though I was the youngest.”

“The youngest batch of kids… that’s where they are right now?”

“Yeah. The four lowest performing boys are about to get thrown in the garbage unless… I don’t want to take responsibility for these kids, Z,” he confesses, his voice conflicted as I lift my face and our eyes lock. “I can’t handle it. I have no clue what to do with them. But Adam thinks he does. I was the smartest. He was the most ruthless, with Trent right behind him. Neither of them really see what happened to us as a problem because they were always on top. Adam just wants to continue as planned, cut those four kids out so there’s fewer to deal with. And maybe they’ll be better off, because the next stage…” Shane swallows loudly as his expression grows colder. He’s pulling away from me. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Zoey

He can’t just leave me hanging like that. “I don’t judge you Shane, for what I heard. For what you did.”

His jaw chatters as a single tear runs down his cheek. I kiss it away. “Stage three is the worst because you think it’s all over. Four years. You get your own room. Your own dog. Your own path at a real school with normal kids. Violence between the brothers is absolutely forbidden. We began trading stocks, building a portfolio. We even started businesses together, spent more time with Rupert learning how to run them. Not lemonade stands and mowing lawns either, the real thing. Most of them are still up and running, employing thousands of people.”

“Is that when you started calling him Father?”

“Yes. He was brilliant. Incredibly effective. But he was such a tyrant, such a monumental asshole. We all became even closer over our hatred for him. Yet he gave us opportunities to create something for ourselves. Unfortunately, there were strings attached.”

I don’t know if I want to hear this story. “Like, legal strings?”

“Yes. He owned everything on paper, all of our hard work and ingenuity. I was 15, Adam and Trent were 16. It was down to ten of us by that point, five didn’t make the cut in the business world early on. Rupert didn’t think they had what it took. Even if they did, he wanted the best of the best, that was the whole point. And it came down to one final test, one last display of loyalty.”

His expression is cold and hard now, that vulnerability I was so glad to see has faded away entirely. “You don’t have go into detail about this part, Shane.”

“What? You don’t want to hear about how difficult it was to pull the trigger when I shot my own dog in the face?”

“Not really.”

“Well, that’s what we did. I always thought the Old Yeller thing was a bit of a cliché test, but it was effective. Only half of us could actually go through with it.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Occasionally. Mostly I just despise myself that I could do it. The failures all got a pickup truck and a check for one quarter of the wealth they created for themselves, became emancipated minors, and drove off into the sunset. The rest of us got emancipated, too. We could legally sign contracts, legally own property. And a new surname that was practically a brand. Goodson. We got to take it to the next level.”

“It seems you did well for yourself there.”

“I did, but that’s not the end of tale, Z.” Shane’s grip around my waist tightens as he grinds against me.  “We also got another pet.”

“Another pet?”

“Don’t you remember how you goaded me into telling you this story?” he rasps, heating my lips as he brings his face inches from mine.

“Actually, I don’t,” I confess, shuddering at his touch.

“Those rooms. The one where you’ll soon be restrained as I ravage every inch of your body. Or should I say…” His hands slide lower and pull my ass down into his groin. “My body.”

“Oh,” I breathe, my heart pounding. “So you got a… girl?”

He nods. “A toy. And when I got tired of her, I got another. And another. Sometimes more than one at a time. They were very obedient, highly skilled distractions. Perfect outlets for my frustration. It was the only form of contact with the opposite sex permitted. No emotional attachments, it was better that way. Because I had to share them. With him.”  Damn, that sounds creepy. And a jealousy over Shane with other women that I always ignore is laughing in my face. “Rupert truly owned them. Like he owned me.”

“Until you ‘got off the leash’?” I quote him.

“We went to college first. Business school, but we didn’t need it at that point, it was only to make connections. Then two to three years serving under an older brother, dismissed at his discretion. That’s what I am to Maddox. Then, finally, all those fucking clauses on all those goddamned contracts disappeared, and everything we created was truly, legally ours. But by then, we were exactly what he wanted us to be anyway. The light at the end of the tunnel, the freedom… it was always an illusion.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Three short years. My net worth has tripled since then. Trent, Adam, and I ended up in California. The other two… let’s just say they were on an opposing alliance and still are. In New York. But Adam and I wanted to come home to get our revenge.”

I’ve always wanted to ask, now’s as good a time as any. “How old are you, Shane?”

“Almost 27.”

“How long has it been since you had a… toy?”

“About a year. Until recently, I just rented them out when I needed it. But now I’m in the market.”

“So that’s what you want me to be?” I ask softly, my voice edging on a whimper.

“No. That’s what I wish I wanted you to be,” Shane snarls, winding his fingers into my hair and pulling my head back as I inhale raggedly. “Why did you have to be so complicated? So tragic and innocent? So fun to talk to, so enjoyable to be around? How fucking dare you make me feel something when I was comfortably dead inside for so long?”

I gasp when his lips meet my throat. “You said you were going to fix me,” I murmur.

“Unfortunately, I think I like you better broken instead.”

“I can’t handle this. When I was younger, I—”

“It’s been eight days and I desperately need to lose myself in your body. Do not taint it with any horrific childhood stories.”

“Then take those whips and paddles out of the room.” My voice cracks as my body tenses up in his arms.

“That was almost the first thing I did when I walked through the door,” he whispers, planting a kiss on the tip of my nose. “But you haven’t earned it yet. And I still like the atmosphere it creates.”

“An atmosphere of anxiety and fear?”

Shane cocks his head to the side, his brow furrowing in confusion. “An atmosphere of authority.”

“That’s not what it feels like for me. You want me to be afraid of you? To do what you tell me to do when we fuck because I’m afraid of you?”

The knot in his throat jerks as he swallows. “Why don’t I know how to answer that?”

Because you are really messed up. “Maybe because the answer is no and you don’t want to say it.”

“This is how I fuck. It’s all I know.”

“Then learn something new.” I reach behind me to where his hands rest on my hips, dragging my fingers across his until he’ll let me hold them.

“I’ll never get rid of the ropes and chains,” he rasps, his eyes rolling back as I lean forward and dot kisses along his stubbly jawline.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

Shane lurches forward, his mouth capturing mine with a growl. He bites my bottom lip and mutters, “The clamps stay, too.”

“If that’s what you want,” I whisper.

His tongue slides against mine as he lifts me into the air, kicking the doors open with his foot until we’re in the red lit chamber. My heart thumps in my chest when I see the bench he had me on last time and I wrap my arms tightly around his neck with a pathetic whimper. He kisses my cheek reassuringly as we walk past it, but the X shaped contraption we’re approaching is even scarier.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says as my feet land on the cool tiled floor and my back hits the leather pad in the center of the cross. “Not that much. Put your arms up.” Drawing in a shaky breath, I comply and he shackles them in place. “Now spread your legs.”

I do what he wants, watching as he cuffs each ankle to the cross before pulling a strap from behind me and fastening it across my waist. Shane takes a step back to admire me for a moment, that wicked, satisfied grin twisting his lips upwards.

He strides over to a chest of drawers, reappearing with a knife. “Shane?” I murmur.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I hate knives.”

“I know.” He skims the tip of the blade over my bare arm. “That’s why I’m using one to cut your clothes off.” Thankfully, I’m not wearing much because the workshop gets so hot. The blade rips through the strap of my tank top effortlessly, it must be sharp. I wince and turn my head as he continues, but he wraps his hand around my jaw and turns it back. “Watch me,” he orders.

My breathing is rapid and shallow as he slips the blade under my shirt and drags it down, splitting the fabric and pulling it away. I wasn’t wearing a bra so my breasts are free for him to fondle. He doesn’t waste much time, grunting when his mouth clamps down on one nipple as he rolls the other between his fingers.

But the red light is gleaming off the knife in his other hand and I can’t stop looking at it. It makes me queasy and it takes everything I have not to beg him to put it away. Before long, he’s slides it down the seams of my shorts and panties until I’m bound and naked at his disposal.

His forehead presses into mine as he drops the knife to the floor, the metallic sound echoing though the room. “I told you that I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, resting his hand on my scarred stomach.

“Stop it,” I beg, jerking against my restraints.

“Don’t expect me to listen to that in here.”

“Then, uh, safeword or whatever.”

“No.” He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “This,” he says, spreading his fingers wider across the marred skin as his expression becomes serious, those pale blue eyes piercing right through me. “What happened to you. This is why you can’t trust me. Why you’ve never trusted anyone.”

“Stop it. Please.” My voice cracks as a tear runs down my cheek.

“No.” He presses his lips to mine. “I want to have all of you. Even this.”

“So, what? The freaky scars turn you on?” I snap.

“They rip my fucking heart out,” Shane replies, his jaw clenching. “Every time I see them. But they’re a part of you.” His face leaves mine, his mouth working its way lower. “And they’re beautiful. A demented work of art carved into your flesh.”

Why can’t he just ignore them like I do? I choke out a sob as his lips kiss every inch of that horrible skin over and over. My cheeks are hot, I’m getting so angry that he’s shoving this in my face, but I can’t stop crying. I twist in the restraints, pleading with him to stop. I’d rather be tied on the bench getting flogged.

“I just want you to trust me.”

“Trust you? I love you,” I blurt out.

Shane’s lips still against my skin, his shocked eyes lifting to meet mine. “What did you just say?”

There’s no taking it back now. “I said I love you.”

He stands up immediately, pressing his body against me as his arms rise up to wind his fingers into mine. “Do you mean that?” he asks, that stone cold expression he always wears cracking and chipping away.

“Of course I mean it.” It’s so difficult to not be able to hug him right now, so I squeeze his hands as tightly as I can, sighing in frustration when he pulls them away. But he only did that to undo the straps binding my wrists to the cross.

Shane pulls my body into his with a growl and a kiss, gliding his fingers down my spine until they’re digging into the flesh of my rear. “You must be even crazier than I am,” he mutters against my lips.

“For loving you?”

“Yes,” he says, undoing the restraints on my waist and ankles. “Love is a weakness.”

My heart sinks as he pushes me down to the mattress. Half from what he said, half because of the length of black ropes he’s reaching for. “I don’t think that’s true,” I whisper as he grabs my forearm with one hand and pushes upwards on the back of my thigh with the other.

He makes a loop at the end of the thin rope and slides my hand and ankle through it, pulling it tight before wrapping it around over and over, binding my arm to my calf. “And what do you know about love, Z?” he hisses.

“Probably less than you,” I confess, watching him lock my other arm and leg in place.

“Precisely.”

Of all the ways he’s restrained me, this one is the most infuriating and effective. My legs are spread, my hands unable to grab anything but my feet which only pulls them further apart. Shane watches me squirm for a while, but his handsome face is devoid of that wicked grin I’ve become so accustomed to seeing here. I miss it.

He undoes the top button of his shirt and my pulse spikes. Yet the urge to communicate to the man behind the mask is even more overwhelming than the desire to see the rest of his body underneath his clothes. I confess my love again, watching his shaking hands still on his shirt, his eyelids fluttering closed as he stops breathing for a moment.

My eyes savor the show when he continues to disrobe. The way his shoulders ripple where they meet his collarbone. I love how that part of him feels under my cheek when I rest my head on his shoulder. I can’t believe I just dropped the L bomb, it was way too soon. The muscles across his ribs and chest flex as he as removes his belt and smacks it across his hand, locking eyes with me. One corner of his mouth finally lifts as his pants fall to the floor, exposing his erection.

I catch a good look at his bare ass when he walks away, turning around with a long piece of satin. My mouth goes dry, almost like the gag is already inside it. And my fluttering stomach grinds to a halt. I’m a piece of meat, yet again. A distraction, an outlet for his frustration like all the other girls before me.