Page 14 of Cursed Angels


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“I will make sure I do that,” I purr back to her. Something cracks through my chest, and it feels like my heart rips, but I take a deep breath and ignore it. Getting started with my job sounds like a good idea right about now. To rid myself of this headache and strange feeling.

“I’m afraid we’ve had a couple of incidents of bad behavior in the children’s section overnight. Two children were caught in bed together. The girl has been dealt with.” She nods to a woman dressed from head to toe in an outfit which can only be described as belonging to a madam. She has her tits falling out, her face dolled up, and is currently running her leg up mine. Yep, definitely a madam or whore. I move my legs away from her. So not going there anytime soon.

“Your first task, Mr. King, will be to deal with the discipline of the boy. We cannot allow this behavior. We have the best reputation in the industry, and we cannot allow that to slip. I’ve been told that we are having an inspection soon, so this must be stamped out now.” Rebekah motions to her assistant to step forward. Jemina has a small box in her hand and places it in front of me.

“You may open it,” I’m told. This all feels familiar again, but I can’t place it. I run my hand over the shiny wooden box and flip the lid. It reveals a long rod, folded up to fit inside. I pull it out and join it to make a rigid cane. The punishment I must dole out is shown to me in the instrument of torture. My mind goes blank. I feel and think nothing. I get to my feet and dip my head to the others in the room.

My name is Archer King.

I’m a member of the board of The Factory.

My job is discipline, and I will do whatever it takes to instill that.

I have no life before this. I will have no life after this.

All I am now is what you see. A man with a cane. A man of your nightmares.

Chapter 7

Samara

Warmth surrounds me as sunlight streams through the window. But it’s more than that. A heavy arm is draped around my middle, and I crack my eyes to find Hunter’s calloused hand splayed on my stomach. His thumb runs circles over my flesh, causing my skin to erupt with goosebumps.

Last night was a step forward, one I didn’t know I wanted. It’s been far too long, and I know Archer has probably moved on. I was a silly girl with a stupid crush. He’s no longer here, but Hunter is, and it’s only fair for me to give Hunter a chance.

He may not have been my first love, but he can certainly be someone I grow to care for. And if I have to be completely honest, I already do. Rolling over, I find tousled chocolate hair and a handsome, rugged face in front of me.

“Good morning, Buttercup,” he greets in a growl heavy with sleep.

“How long have you been awake?” I question, shifting closer, needing comfort and warmth. Hunter has always offered me enough to keep me sane. He’s never pushed, until yesterday.

“A while.”

“And you didn’t wake me?” He smiles at my question, then opens his eyes. They’re glistening in the soft sunlight.

“You needed rest. There’s only so much a girl can take, and I think you had your quota last night,” he offers. Releasing me from his hold, he shifts onto his back, placing his hands under his head. He trains his gaze on the ceiling, and I know there’s something coming. A foreboding feeling sits in my gut. “Listen, I shouldn’t have said—”

“Yes, you should’ve. And I’m happy you did,” I tell him. Scooting closer, I wrap myself around his rigid, tightly packed muscles. My leg draped over his and my arm wrapping around his torso. I’m practically climbing him like a goddamn spider monkey. “I want you, Hunt.”

He drops his gaze to mine, and I’m pretty sure he’s assessing me and my words under his intense scrutiny. “Then tell me, Sam,” he asks in a tone so gentle I find my heart squeezing with the emotion that barrels through me.

“Hunt—”

“I work on honesty and trust, Buttercup,” he says as his one hand reaches for my cheek, cupping it, his thumb swiping over my skin. “If you can’t give me that, then it’s done. We’re done. Work only.”

“Hunter, it’s not easy for me to talk about. You know that,” I implore him. Going back there in my mind, to what I saw, it will break me. And it’s not that I’m scared. It’s that I don’t want to break in front of him.

“Sam, I’m here. No matter what you say, I want to see the woman I care for, not the assassin you’ve turned into. Show me what’s in here,” he says, placing two fingers on my chest where my rapid heartbeat slams against his touch.

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