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She flailed against me, trying to jerk away. “Get off me.” Her demand was nothing but a strangled whisper, the underlying tone different than the defiant woman she’d been before. No, I was more certain than ever that she’d known us before, had wanted to learn more, even though we’d been nothing but complete monsters all those years ago. Now that she’d tasted the real thing, maybe reality was setting in.
The world hadn’t been wrong about us.
I thought about the asshole who’d shot at me. His hit had been professional, where her attempt had been amateurish. He’d planned his attack for when I’d be alone instead of hunting me down at a public event. Whether or not his intention had been to lie in wait at my house for my return was indeterminable. However, if that was the case, the fact the fucker had found me on the street could indicate he’d been watching and possibly following Dahlia, hoping she’d lead him to my location.
No matter what Alexander thought, there was more to what was happening. Security or no security, even this private island wasn’t immune to the possibility of an attack. The brutal man was right about one thing. We needed her to confide in us, providing every detail of her plan and the steps she’d taken in order to get her as far as she’d been able to manage.
I hated her reaction, the pang in my chest a clear reflection of how I felt about her.
Brogan moved closer, the same rage on his face as I was experiencing. I was surprised that he hadn’t beaten the crap out of the man up to this point.
“I’m going to take you so you can rest,” I murmured in a low, yet still husky voice. Maybe I was trying to comfort her. Jesus. How ridiculous. This entire experience wasn’t about comfort but about a power exchange.
“Rest. I don’t need rest. What I need is to be let go. I won’t bother the three of you again. I need to go back to my quiet life. I don’t mean anything to you and not one of you do to me either.” There was conviction in her voice, the sound hard and cold, but she couldn’t look me in the eyes. She also wasn’t a good liar.
“Tell me about your life,” I suggested.
When she laughed, rolling her eyes, I thought she was about to spew ugly words. What she said stilled me. “I’m only a girl wishing my fantasies could be true, but that’s impossible. There are no such things as knights on huge steeds. I won’t be rescued from the castle, nor will I be carried off into the sunset.”
She jerked away from me, although I noticed a sweep of her eyes as she glanced all the way down to my feet.
Dahlia backed away, shaking her head several times. I felt the old ways nagging at me, the anger that had kept me alive and on edge. As I took a deep whiff, the fragrance of her sweet essence was more than I could handle. I forced myself to look away, but only for a few seconds.
All the hunger that I’d been keeping buried deep inside, all the years of carnal activities that had become a distant memory came sweeping to the surface. But this wasn’t about engaging in a sinful act, sharing a woman with my buddies after a night of drinking and dancing. This was about something much deeper, an act that could never be shoved aside or forgotten.
I gave Brogan a hard look, tilting my head so he could see my increasing fury. He nodded, understanding the level I’d reached as he walked closer to our captured guest.
“It’s best if you come clean now,” he said, keeping his tone softer than he had before. “Just tell us the truth. Everything happens for a reason, most of which can be explained. Then you can have your life back.”
Now he was trying to be the reasonable one in the group. God, how horrific this entire situation had become.
Dahlia exhaled but darted a single, tiny look in his direction. In that split second, I’d seen the connection already building between them. However, it wasn’t just about his heightened level of testosterone or the fact he looked like a bad boy personified. There was some recognition. Damn it. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I felt it as well.
“I have nothing to say to any of you except you need to let me go. If you do, I won’t…” She quickly snapped her head away.
That broke the spell of passion. What we’d just shared had been nothing more than a blip in time.
I almost burst into laughter. “You won’t contact the police? Is that what you were about to say?” It was time to move the situation forward. I had a bad feeling Alexander’s plans were much darker than they’d ever been before. We all needed time to think this through. “You’re going to your room, where you’ll think about everything that’s happened and if you’d like to continue this way.”
Brogan kept his icy stare on us as I led her out of the room, moving through the long corridor. I was on edge, barely able to maintain even breathing. She almost seemed relieved to be led out of the area housing whatever ugly apparatus holding court in the center of the room. Alexander’s tastes had always been eccentric but purchasing a private island in the middle of the South Pacific had been his craziest idea yet. And to set it up as a BDSM getaway meant for psychos was not something I wanted to become involved in.
I doubted it would be good for my illustrious career.
I kept my fingers wrapped around her arm as I led her toward her room. She was stiff, her breathing ragged and she’d fisted both hands, just waiting for an opportunity to get the hell away from me. When we were just outside the room, she pulled away, the glassiness in her eyes as she glared at me an indication that she’d been crying. She was one proud girl, her innocence always evident, but the tenacity she’d built around her was like steel armor, impenetrable except to monsters like the three of us.
“You’re an officer of the law. How can you condone any of this? How can you be friends with either one of them? They are…” She shuddered, refusing to finish the sentence.
“Delinquents. Sinners. Bastards. I’m certain you have other words for it, lovely Dahlia, but it begs the question. Is there a single one of us that hasn’t crossed some line? Is there a person on this planet who hasn’t felt the bite of rage or the need for revenge, or sadness so intense that you became lost in yourself, incapable of pulling your head out of the sand? And what about love? Aren’t there millions of people who fall madly in love only to realize they’d been used? What does that make all those people?”
She seemed surprised I’d offered such a ridiculous soliloquy, a slight smile crossing her face for the first time. “You hate him. Alexander. Don’t you?”
Her question was as unexpected as the woman standing in front of me. I wanted to do several things to her—from turning her over my knees and spanking her tight little bottom for crossing that line, to wrapping my arm around her, protecting her from the evils of this world. But mostly, I desired more than anything I had in one hell of a long time to pull her into a tight embrace, kissing her perfect rose-colored voluptuous lips as she crushed her beautiful breasts against my chest. Then I wanted to drive my cock so deep inside her, filling her with my seed, that I’d ruin her for all other men. And then I wanted to start all over again.
What the hell did that make me?
“I’ve learned that there is no place in this world for hate.” Even my words sounded hollow. Even though they were true, that didn’t mean I didn’t harbor ill feelings for the years I’d spent pretending to be somebody I wasn’t. I’d wanted to live up to my father’s expectations, excelling in the same field he’d dedicated his life to at the expense of spending time with his family.
And I’d succeeded.
