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“The next person to mention Alex’s pussy gets a bullet in the skull.” I reached for the gun on the table beside me. “Don’t fucking test me. Not tonight.”
I glanced around the room. Dozens of eyes were on me, observing me like a monkey in a cage. I felt like a fucking animal.
“If anyone else wants to say something, fucking say it.”
Drake drank from a bottle of Heineken, his eyes on me. “We should talk about putting a tracking device on Alex. She’s going to run after this.”
“I’ll fix it,” I assured him. “Her pretty ass isn’t going anywhere. Trust me.”
“As a precaution,” Drake countered. “We can’t afford to take any chances.”
I nodded.
“She’s too important to us… and The F Society.”
“We’re not having this conversation in mixed company, Battle.”
He knew better than to bring up sensitive information in front of whores. They’d all signed non-disclosure agreements, but I didn’t trust anyone.
“Think about it,” Drake insisted.
“Enough.” I waved him off. “We can talk tomorrow.”
I had to fix this mess.
Some Knights went back to fucking the Alex lookalikes. Most of them had different hair colors, but all the girls had the same curvy bodies, plump lips, and curly hair. I did that on purpose to make it harder to tell the girls apart. I thought I would find Alex in time, but I fucked up. None of the Knights were supposed to fuck her if they captured her.
Fucking Marcello.
That asshole.
Pain ripped through my chest, squeezing my heart so fucking hard I struggled to catch my breath. It nearly killed me seeing her on top of Marcello. She wore his red tie around her neck, her big tits bouncing in his face, his hands on her ass.
Mine.
She was fucking mine.
And I chased her away.
Again.
Because you’re a piece of shit.
You never deserved her.
Kali shook her head as our eyes met from across the room. Naked, with her pale skin covered in bruises, she glared at me. She was thin, too bony for me. I liked girls with an ass to grab, tits to fuck.
When we’d first met, Alex was skinny like Kali. But after she escaped her psychopathic mother, she put some meat on her bones. I loved Alex’s body, worshiped her whenever we were together.
And she left me.
For my brother.
It’s your fault, asshole.
Deal with it.
I wondered if she would show him the trick I liked, the one she did with her tongue. Did he like it? Was she letting him fuck all of her pretty holes? Did she come as hard for him as she did for me?
Not knowing wrecked me.
I swiped an open bottle of Macallan from an end table and gulped it down. It burned as the scotch slid down my throat. I needed to hurt, to feel something, anything.
Kali gave me another disappointed look that heated my skin.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I growled.
Her nose wrinkled with disgust. “Why did you let her leave?”
She leaned forward, making no effort to cover her small tits. Her nipples were hard and had black and blue marks around the areola. Like me, Bastian and Damian enjoyed inflicting pain. My brothers fucked her up daily, like two animals fighting over their favorite chew toy. And Kali was the perfect conduit for their madness.
“You could have stopped her,” Kali challenged. “She only left because she doesn’t think you care.”
“You don’t know shit,” I snapped.
“She wanted you to go after her.”
“Close your mouth before I shove my cock down your throat to shut you up.”
“Don’t talk to our girl like that,” Bastian growled.
Damian nodded, arms crossed over his chest.
“Luca,” Kali whined. “Why did you let her go?”
“Because Marcello won.”
I wrapped my hand around the bottle of Macallan so hard I thought it would shatter. And I hoped it would so I could feel the pain.
Pain is weakness leaving the body.
Let it go.
I narrowed my eyes at Kali. “If anyone else had captured our queen, they would be with her right now.”
Was that true, though?
Fuck, no.
I would have killed another man. So why was I sharing her with Marcello? Because he would take care of her, treat her the way I never could. My girl was safe in his arms, but knowing that did not lessen my anger.
Why was I doing this?
To hurt her.
Sadist.
Hurt me.
Masochist.
I was both things, so fucked up, no medical diagnosis could cover all of my issues. My father had taught me to welcome pain, learn how to control it before it consumed me.
I didn’t build things.
I broke them.
I broke us.
All because I was losing my fucking mind.
Marcello saved her.
Not me.
He deserved her.
You owe him.
I pushed them together, let this shit happen because I wanted to protect her from the Albanians. They were coming for her soon.
“Luca,” Kali muttered. “You need to stop doing this to yourself. Stop with the games and tell her how you feel.”
