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Chapter Nineteen
WhenBronhadmentioned a private plane, I’d assumed it would be something just big enough for us, our luggage, and a pilot. Instead, the plane that Vas sent for us was a living room with wings. Waiting for takeoff, I felt like an agent on Criminal Minds. No one asked to see my fake ID, and no one rifled through our bags. There was something to be said for traveling with people who had money.
“Better than our last trip?” Ilya asked, looking amused.
“Yes, and a million times better than the trip before that.”
Bron snorted. “You’re saying you didn’t enjoy being drugged and fucked while you were helpless? You were so wet for me—you must be lying.”
I shuddered in revulsion. “No, it’s not my thing. Never has been.”
“I suppose you had it done to you a few times on the Island.” Ilya stretched his legs out in front of him.
“Yeah. There, too.”
“It happened to you before that?” Bron asked, not sounding pleased.
“High school, except I didn’t get paid for it that time. The entire soccer team had a piece of me.”
Ilya growled. “And their names?”
The information lodged behind my teeth, but I wasn’t about to spit it out. “Why?”
“Because you’re ours, and a wrong has been done to you.”
“We were teenagers. I hope they’ve already learned their lesson.”
“They went to jail?”
“No.” I thought of the video, the police station, the hours of questioning. The lost evidence.
They were both staring at me with murderous gleams in their eyes.
“Why be mad at them but not angry at yourselves?”
“Like you said, you volunteered for such treatment when you went to the Island. It’s different than being taken unaware by people you trust.” Bron’s eyes were terrifying. I couldn’t help but think about how satisfying it would be to watch them beat my bully assailants to a pulp, the way Bron had with the man who’d attacked me in the park in Saint Petersburg.
“I didn’t volunteer to be kidnapped by you,” I pointed out.
“A technicality.” Bron flicked his fingers, as if what he’d done to me then, and since then, had been of little to no consequence.
The plane taxied, and we buckled in for takeoff.
“You came on my dick often enough. I knew you liked it despite yourself.”
“Orgasms aren’t consent.”
He flashed me a wicked smile.
“I’m serious, Bron.”
“And I don’t care, De-li-lah. You were bought and paid for.”
“I only agreed to take a contract from you after you kidnapped me.”
“First you were under contract from the Island, then to us. You didn’t seem to mind having me breed your sexy ass.”
“You can’t breed someone’s ass.” I glared at him.
“Obviously, you’re mistaken,” Ilya said dryly. “It’s the only way to explain how Bron came into being.”
“If anyone is a piece of shit on this plane, it’s you.”
“I also suppose if it was possible to breed an ass, you and I would have a million little bastards running around the island,” Ilya said quietly. His eyes gleamed with amusement, but he was smart enough to turn his gaze out the window rather than keep teasing the man who enjoyed beating him.
“I can only imagine how much you’d love that. Brats everywhere.”
“I think I’m safe,” Ilya whispered. “Two ex-wives and now me, and still no children? You must not have strong enough spunk in that little prick of yours.”
Bron unbuckled and lunged for Ilya, even though we hadn’t finished our ascent.
“Sit down,” Ilya snapped, then lowered his voice. “My father pays the pilot and flight attendant. You think they won’t talk?” The attendant hadn’t come out of the cockpit at all, but there was nothing saying he wouldn’t pop out at a moment’s notice.
Bron’s fists curled at his sides, but he lowered himself back into his seat. “Tonight, we will see what you think of my little prick as I rearrange your fucking guts.”
“After all these years, I think you have permanently rearranged them.”
The silence that fell was tense, but both men had been acting strangely since we’d woken this morning.
Time to change the subject.
