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Chapter twenty
Malcolm Huntington was arrested this morning. Two hours later, my father called to tell me about some bullshit human trafficking fundraiser the Brotherhood set up for this weekend. They didn’t give two shits about human trafficking. This was just another way for them to bleed more money out of people while painting themselves as heroes. All the while, they were the ones raping and selling women like cattle. It fucking disgusted me. One day, the world would know the truth about who they really were. We were making sure of it.
Before I had even ended the call, I’d decided I was taking Anniston to that fucking fundraiser. The media would be there. My father would make sure of it. And I was going to make sure Winston knew his daughter had obeyed his request. She was doing whatever the fuck I wanted her to do. And what I wanted was for her to show her face. I wanted her to show the world she was therewith me—willingly.
I hoped he took one look at her and knew I’d told her the truth.
Father of the motherfucking year.
My parents were shit, but at least I grew up knowing that. Anniston had been living a twenty-five-year old lie—until yesterday when I drowned her in the truth.Then she threw it right back at me.I would never forget the pain etched on her face when she realized her dad was the piece of shit I’d always known he was. If I were capable of feelings, I’d have felt sorry for her.
That shit kept me up all night. There was this twisting and pulling warring in my chest.
Anniston wasn’t a bad person. She was brave, witty, gorgeous as fuck and didn’t even know it. Not to mention the way her body responded to my touch—fuck—like a present waiting to be unwrapped.
Her tender spirit whispered that she didn’t deserve my wrath. Her bloodline convinced me she did. It was an internal conflict of epic proportions.
Yesterday, I wanted to strangle her. Today, we were walking down Hudson Boulevard getting ready to find her a dress.
I still wanted to strangle her, only now the urge came from a different place; more primal and less violent. I still wanted her to bend to my will. I still wanted to break her.
Only now I also wanted to sink into her tight pink cunt while I held her throat and felt her life thrum beneath my fingertips. I wanted to watch tears fall down her cheeks while I muffled her screams with a hand over her mouth.
I wanted her pain.
I needed her pleasure.
We turned the corner into the public square, and her jaw dropped. “Oh my god, what is that?” She stared past the groups of people milling around the open space to the enormous bronze honeycomb-shaped sculpture that stood fifteen stories tall in the center of the courtyard.
The Vessel.
“Some people call it art,” I answered.
Her eyes grew wide as she watched tourists stop to take pictures of iconic sculpture. The whole thing was one big open cone with multiple levels that looked out over the square. I noticed a few of them aimed their cameras in our direction, probably because they recognized Anniston, even though she was oblivious to the attention.
“Can we go on it?” Her voice was full of wonder and hope, like a child.
The fuck? This wasn’t Disneyland, and that wasn’t a ride. That was a full day’s workout—two thousand-five hundred steps, to be exact. Not to mention the morbid history. After the third person climbed to the top, then plunged to their death, they finally closed that shit down.
“No.” I was the stern parent.
She threw her head back and groaned. “Do you ever do anything fun?”
“The elevator was fun.” I stepped behind her the same way I had then. “Watching you take my cock was fun.” I leaned forward and spoke into her ear. Her hair smelled like tropical flowers, clean and sweet. Fucking great. Now my dick was hard. “Feeding you was fun.” I gripped her hips, pulling her closer, and rubbed my cock against her ass. “Are you not having fun, Princess?”
Her breath hitched. “I think we have different ideas of fun.”
“Just wait, baby.” I stepped away from her. “You’ll change your mind.” Her gaze fell to my crotch as I adjusted my dick and added, “Soon.”
I reached for her hand, and she accepted. I convinced myself it was to make sure she didn’t try to run again, but my dick and my brain both knew that was bullshit. I held her hand because I couldn’t be this close to her without touching her.
We walked past the benches and trees that bordered the square and through the glass door into The Shops. It was a multi-level mall with a large open area in the center, lots of glass, indoor plants and twinkling lights. To me, it was just another building. But Anniston drank it all in as if she’d never seen anything like it before.
“They don’t have malls in Ayelswick?” I’d only seen it in pictures. I’d never actually been there.
“Well, yeah, but not like this.” Her lips parted, and her head tilted up, revealing the slender column of her neck as she continued to look up and around. “Back home, our shops are all lined up in a row along the streets. Vendors place their carts on the sidewalks, kind of like that…” She pointed to a kiosk shaped like an oversized tea cart, then continued, “The square is covered in green grass, trees and flowerbeds, and kids toss balls around while their parents relax on blankets.” Her gaze spanned the large, open space. “It’s nothing like this.”
“Do you miss it?” I wasn’t sure why I asked, or why I cared, but something inside me wanted to know if she was standing here with me wishing she were somewhere else.
