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I know that voice, that voice is my hope. He is nothing like his vile fucking brother.
“Nothing important,” shrugging my shoulders as my eyes make their way up his beautiful body. He is a student, I shouldn’t be looking at him like this. But he is also very much an adult, so it’s not like it’s illegal. He has a pair of black slides on with his strong bare legs exposed, loose athletic shortshanging low off his hips. His torso is exposed, the v-line on display near his pelvis makes my mouth water. He has black and gray patch tattoos scattered around his chest. Landon’s face is expressionless, making him hard to read. Chiseled jawline with fuller lips and those beautiful blue eyes. His hair is getting too long, it’s shaggy and falling over his forehead.
“I can see you checking me out.”
I feel my face warm from embarrassment.
“I watched what Hudson did last night. You took it. A part of me even thinks you liked it. Did you like it, Banks? You were such a good girl for me.” His praise makes me happy. The last thing I want to do is displease him. Landon Cooper is my only hope.
I nervously bite my lip, but I have to ask, “Hudson mentioned something. Asked me if you showed me?” I feel my body shrink as each word leaves my mouth.
“Ask with confidence or don’t ask at all.”
I look up to find he’s moved right in front of me, so close I can feel his breath. “I understand, you’re right.”
“Good girl, now ask again.”
Mustering up all the courage I can after so many days of feeling nothing but defeat, it takes all the energy I have to sit myself up taller and clear my dry throat before asking again but clearly and with confidence like Landon told me to. “What did Hudson think you showed me?”
Landon sits next to me. “See, was it really that hard?” I shake my head, smiling, feeling proud of myself.
He cups my jaw with his hand. He is gentle with me, the complete opposite of his brother. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you Banks?” His eyes are looking into my soul. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but a part of me likes it,cravesit. Like he can really see me. I am not this bad, vindictive person I have been made out to be. I didn’t know what the money was for. I kept itbecause I thought whoever left it would come back for it. I didn’t know.
Landon leans in, his breath tickles my skin while his intoxicating musky scent invades my space. Surprising me, he kisses me softly, his lips on mine. I relax into it. It's gentle, delicate and addictive. The kiss doesn’t last long before he pulls back, and I whimper in protest at the loss of his lips against mine. He chuckles softly, raising the corner of his lips and smirking at me, “Patience.” Then his hand leaves my face as he turns his body to face me fully. The disconnect is excruciating.
“He was talking about this.” He points to what looks like a horrible burn on his left bicep. It’s fresh, still red and blistered. It looks like it hurts.
Speechless, I am not sure what to say. “What happened?”
“Don’t worry about me, Banks. I’m a big boy and the last thing I care to do is complain about my daddy issues to you.” The ‘to you’ stings. I retreat back into myself, no longer feeling the confidence I did a moment ago. He notices, and his brows furrow. “I didn’t mean it like that. Shit, Banks, I’m sorry. It’s just that my daddy issues are not something I talk to anyone about.” He rubs his chest, specifically the areas covered in ink. As I watch him, something catches my attention, ridges, not large ones, are raised on his skin, like a scar from a cut… or a burn. He catches me looking but doesn’t speak, waiting for me to say something. Instead, it’s my turn to surprise him. Reaching out, I touch his inked skin and a jolt of electricity spreads through me. Using the tip of my fingers, I trace the scar that his ink is trying to hide, but I see it, I see him. He wasn’t born this way, he and his brother were conditioned to be the way they are. Landon’s breath hitches as I move from one scar to the next, touching them, acknowledging they are there. They are a part of him and he shouldn’t be ashamed. He is strong, he survived and still is.
“Why does he do this?” Looking back up at his face but still keeping my fingers on his skin. His face has changed, like he is in pain. His eyes look away from me as a loud breath escapes him. “Since we were little. Anytime we displeased him, he would teach us a lesson. Kind of like the lesson we are teaching you. As much as I didn’t want to become him, it looks like I have, we have.”
My hand moves to his face and he flinches at my touch, “Don’t say that. This is what you know. This isn't your fault, none of it. Or your brother’s.”
“Stop being so fucking nice to me; I don’t deserve it. You are chained up, almost naked and trapped in our basement. We don’t deserve your sympathy. We don’t fucking want it either.” I tell myself his anger isn’t directed at me. It is a defense mechanism. Tears well in my eyes, but I keep repeating it to myself—this isn’t personal.
Landon wastes no time, storming up the stairs, stomping with each step and slamming the door. The noise startles me, causing me to jump. I close my eyes, letting the tears escape me. I’m not crying because he was short with me. I cry for him because he won’t let himself do it.
This isn’t pity. I wish he knew he didn’t need to be strong all the time, that it’s ok to feel. Being emotional like this isn’t normal for me. Being stuck down here with no sense of time or day, being alone with my own thoughts. It’s messing with me. The stress, it’s the stress of the situation. I can’t think clearly anymore. One minute feeling defeated, the next feeling the tiniest bit of hope. Feeling compassion for these two guys. They are why I am stuck down here. But now that I know more about them, I get it. I… I get it and I hate that I do. I hate that a part of me understands why they have done this.
Fuck, listen to me. Caring for my captors. What the fuck is wrong with me?
19
LANDON
“You fucking told her to ask me about the burn?” I shout, barging into my brother's room.
He has some chick on his cock that I’ve never met.
“A little privacy?” Is all he says in return while the chick keeps bouncing on his dick.
Picking up her shirt from the floor, I throw it at her. “Get the fuck out!” She finally stops, then looks down at my brother, like he will help her. Fucking imbecile.
“You heard him. Get out.”
“But I haven’t come yet,” she whines back at him.
