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The sounds are followed by a dull thudding noise. More muffled voices.
When I try the door handle, it’s locked, and I could bet a fortune that the stupid girl has locked herself in here in a half-assed attempt to try and get away from us.
Maybe she’s in there with someone, and I’ve caught her trying to run straight into the arms of one of her father’s friends. Offering to suck his dick in return for being saved from us.
She’s nothing more than a piece of Noire filth. It’s laughable that she thinks she can get away from the three of us that easily.
A locked door never stopped me before, and it certainly isn’t going to tonight. Ky or Thorne might use a more finessed method to gain entry, but I’ve got shoulders built for going ten rounds in the ring without breaking a sweat. All it takes is for me to throw my bulk against the wooden door, and the hinges splinter open.
The sight that greets me…well, that has me seeing red. A mist descends to cloud my vision as I take in the scene I’ve disturbed.
There’s a greasy-haired Massimo Ilone, with his hand up the front of the girl’s dress. Next to them lies a shattered vase and a plinth knocked to the floor. I can tell she’s tried to fight him, but her efforts are pathetic. The asshole might be old, but he’s too big and powerful for her, and in the dark, she would have been caught off guard too easily.
However, he’s no match for me. The Anguis enforcer trained to end lives with my fists.
He’s got her forced up against the wall; meanwhile, she’s trying to push him off and frantically tilts her head away from his face. That’s when her baby-blues snap onto mine as she hears me burst in.
I’m across the room in an instant.
My mind blinks offline, and instinct takes over. There’s only the sound of his cries and yells filling the darkened room as I haul him off her, tossing the fucker to the ground. Knuckles connect with his jaw over and over as I straddle his chest and rain down punishing blows.
There’s a mess of blood and split skin and broken teeth where his face should be.
He’s unresponsive.
I don’t care if he’s dead.
The hits keep flying, and it’s only the sensation of small fists grabbing at my arms and a soft body clinging to me from behind that prevents me from snapping the guy's neck with my bare hands.
“You’re killing him.”
She’s yelling at me to stop, but all I can do is hiss in response. I don’t want her fucking touching me. I don’t want her scent anywhere near me. I don’t want her body pressed up against mine.
Rising to my feet, I throw her off roughly and turn around to shove my face right in hers. “Don’t think for one second I did that for you.” Snarling, I jab a finger in the direction of the battered figure lying twisted on the floor. “I did that because you are the debt that we are owed and nothing more.”
Big blue orbs glistening with unshed tears widen as she stares back at me; her pink lips gape. I take in the way her chest heaves and note that the girl’s hair is disheveled, as if he grabbed those purple strands before I got to her.
But there’s not one part of me that gives a fuck right now.
She’s our property, and we’re the only ones that get to hurt her.
12
My night is a sleepless mess, replaying every moment from the evening before in my mind’s eye until pale light creeps over the forest outside my windows. I watch until the sky brightens in streaks of purple and pink as dawn approaches. Once again, I’m drowning in an oversized t-shirt and echoes of their masculine scents.
It’s like being tortured and antagonized and having my pussy teased all in one breath.
My head aches from the revelations of last night. A grotesque Pledging ceremony, of all things. Rage gnaws harder at my insides when I then think of how Massimo forced himself on me. I couldn’t do anything to defend myself against either of the unanticipated hits that came my way.
Massimo Ilone has always been a threat in my life. One of the many contenders my father declared he would consider selling me to…for the right price. I guess last night, he decided he was going to take what he wanted without my father being in the picture anymore.
You’d think I might be shaken or hurt, but the sad reality is that I’ve had that exact experience before. Different man, different room at Noire House. Only, back then, I was a teenager, and at least I was fortunate enough that other members of the Anguis walked in before things went further than being groped through my clothes.
No one defended me or came to my rescue when I was a young girl, left alone in a sea of monsters. They simply laughed as I ran from the room, clutching my dress and fighting back tears.
And now, for some fucked up reason, I can’t stop thinking about the way Raven nearly killed Massimo just for touching me.
I am not fantasizing about a man who beat someone to a bloodied pulp right after forcing me into a Pledging ceremony.
