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Chase frowned at that. He knew, knew in his soul, it was sexual abuse, but the parameters of abuse he knew of weren’t exactly right. They were off. Just a little something that wasn’t right about it.
And in all these years he had never figured out what that little something was, and he had a feeling he might not ever know. But, as he’d told Ian, it didn’t stop the guilt. Something had nearly destroyed his brother, and Chase hadn’t been able to stop it. It was a guilt he would carry for the rest of his life.
“What the hell happened, Cam?” He breathed out again. “Son of a bitch, what did she do to you?”
Chase wasn’t going to let it go, and Cam knew it. A part of him had always known that his brother at least suspected part of what happened; but hell, even his brother couldn’t have guessed the truth. The truth was so fucking twisted, so incredibly depraved, that sometimes he wondered at the truth of it himself.
Shaking his head hours later, he ignored Chase’s grumblings from behind about the lightning and the shitty Internet reception. The rain always seemed to affect both the satellite and cable reception. Neither were perfected yet, even with Ian’s top-notch, ex-government computer expert on board. Storm-laden days still had the reception lagging, until it was slow enough to make a saint curse.
Slow enough to leave a man time to think, and Cam was thinking in overdrive. Courtney and Jaci were in the club section of the mansion, under Ian’s supervision. Jaci needed sketches, measurements, a feel of the rooms, she had told Ian.
Cam’s hands itched to feel her again. He’d like to hide her in one of those rooms, strip those damned jeans off her ass, and bend her over—take her, as he gripped the rounded curves of her rear.
He shook his head and punched in the search command again before sitting back in his chair and waiting. He lifted his gaze to the security monitors lined up over his desk.
Security was wired into his and Chase’s office, as well as Ian’s and the central security room, to allow for multiple-room surveillance. Ian believed in backup.
As he watched the main room, the double doors opened and Ian stepped inside, followed by Courtney and Jaci. Courtney, as always, was like a little kid at Christmas, every chance she got to enter the club.
She moved immediately to the table where Khalid was finishing his breakfast. He’d spent the night in one of the club’s suites, rather than return to the penthouse where his family was visiting.
His smile was easy, familiar, as Courtney chatted away. While Khalid had been Ian’s third, he had often been subject to many of Courtney’s practical jokes and shenanigans. And he seemed to love every minute of it. Other men might have been jealous, but Ian knew what others only saw: Courtney’s complete devotion to her husband.
She was prone to flirt, but lightly. She teased, but only with those she knew were less likely to take her seriously; and she was shamelessly aware of her own power over the opposite sex. But it was a power she never used, except in the most playful of ways. And it was a power she forgot entirely, whenever it came to her husband. The love Courtney felt for Ian lit every part of her.
As Courtney and Khalid joked, Cam watched as Ian indicated the security cameras, which were cleverly hidden along the walls, behind decorative smoked glass.
They turned a few moments later, and a silent whistle pursed his lips at the sight of Jaci’s shapely ass.
A second later, he was on his feet, stalking from the office and heading for the club, indignation and anger burning through him. He had caught the looks of the few members in the renovated ballroom. Sons of bitches were all staring at her ass like it was only a matter of time before they would have license to touch.
Wasn’t going to happen. Damn their sorry-assed hides, if the need ever arose for a third other than Chase, he could bet it wasn’t going to be any of the three devouring the sight of Jaci’s backside right now. He doubted he’d be able to let them breathe the same air she breathed, without anger burning inside him for months.
She was his. Until she realized it, until he knew she wasn’t going to walk out on him again, then they could just deal with it. Club rules were club rules. They were banned from laying a hand on her after he’d declared her as his woman. He’d make certain that any of them who tried were kicked out of the club so fast it would make their heads spin. Hell, he’d kick their sorry asses himself.
The possessiveness tearing through him had a haze of red edging at his vision. Something primal, so instinctive he couldn’t fight it, rising inside him since that first night he and Chase had touched her. A need, a burning hunger to stake a claim on her that he had never staked on another woman. A hunger to have her, to know, she was his. Just fucking his.
He could share her. He needed that sharing on a level that he knew had nothing to do with the emotions Jaci had always tempted inside him. That temptation to feel was the basis of the sharing. But the need, the hunger, was pushing past every promise he had ever made to himself where she was concerned.
Letting his brother touch her was one thing. But another man? No way in hell, he couldn’t imagine it happening. Couldn’t imagine ever allowing another man to touch what belonged to him. And Jaci belonged to him.
Minutes later, he strode into the room, throwing a dark frown to the guests there before moving to Ian and Jaci. Ian’s smile was almost too smug, and Jaci’s surprised look was filled with an edge of remembered anger, and remembered hunger.
“Are you finished in here yet?” If he didn’t touch her, didn’t remind her who she belonged to, then he was going to explode.
It was building in him. Damn her, he could feel the darkness building, the hunger fraying at his control, and knew it wouldn’t be much longer. He’d have to have her.
“Not really,” Jaci answered mockingly. “Was there something you needed?”
Oh, she had no idea how much he needed.
“Actually, there is. ” He gripped her arm, careful to keep his hold light, but firm. “We need to talk. ”
“Really?” she drawled.
“Cam, she’s mine until five o’clock. ” Courtney was suddenly there beside them, her lips tight, her brown eyes flaring with determination. “Take your hands off my interior designer, until she’s finished for the day. ”
“Courtney, sweetheart, she deserves a break now and then. ” Ian cleared his throat, which was no more than an attempt to hide his laughter, and Cam knew it.
