Forbidden (Blood Ties Book 7)
: Chapter 8

YOU WILL TELL ME WHERE HALE IS!

I jerked awake with London St. James roaring in my goddamn ears. But he wasn’t here, was he? No gun pressed against my brother’s head. No men waiting for me in the dark. Just the softness of the mattress underneath me…and the sudden, delicate draw of breath at my side.

Warmth.

Warmth pressed against me.

A soft, seductive scent washed in, unfamiliar and strange. The memory of the last twenty-four hours rushed back. The accident. The cleaners…and her. Helene Montgomery. The way she’d bucked and fought me every step of the way, almost fucking killing me in the process, and the way she’d hid her scars.

Jagged, cruel gashes of fate.

She was ruined.

But it was more than that. She intrigued me, and that was a very dangerous situation…for her and for me. Still, I found myself drawn to her, to the fighter in her eyes and the faint silver marks on her body. Marks which urged me closer, to know her story, to understand what had driven her to do the things she’d done, to cut and slice and bleed. I wanted to know the thoughts of all that blood and all that pain, to feel such hatred for yourself, to know such unbearable agony.

My pulse sped, until she let out a soft, sudden snore.

She snored.

She…

The more I thought about her, the deeper I slipped.

This shouldn’t be happening.

She shouldn’t be happening. Not now when everything was at stake.

Murmured words I couldn’t quite hear slipped from her lips. I held my breath and leaned closer.

“But you’re…you’re my sister.”

Sister?

Seemed like I wasn’t the only one with family trouble. Maybe she would tell me about them. Maybe they’d caused her pain. I clenched my jaw. I didn’t like that. No, I didn’t like that one bit.

What the fuck are you doing? Reality pushed in. I lifted my gaze to the glint of steel around my wrist. She was a captive…a goddamn captive, and I was fucking playing house?

Get your fucking shit together. Do you hear me? Get it together.

Harmon’s words pushed in.

I shook my head, then gently rolled over and stretched out until my tendons pulled taut and my muscles howled in protest. Still, she never moved and those tiny, gasping snores never quieted as I grasped the key from the nightstand. One tiny click and the cuff fell before I undid hers. She barely moved. The deep draw of her breaths told me she was still asleep. Good.

I rolled and climbed out of bed before padding to the walk-in closet. A surge of awareness came, stopping me. I swiveled around, flicking my gaze to hers. But her eyes were closed.

In and out.

In…and out.

Her breaths never changed.

Hmm.

I pulled jeans from the drawer and strode toward the kitchen. It was still early, only a few hours after I’d fallen asleep. But my mind was racing and my heart…it needed a reason, a reason for all of this, a reason for hope. I slid a cup under the coffee machine and pressed the button before heading upstairs to my study.

I grabbed the laptop and the charger before heading back down. A splash of creamer and I set myself on the edge of the bench, turned on the computer, and logged in. That nagging feeling of being watched washed over me once more.

I glanced toward the hallway, seeing nothing but gloom, then scowled and turned back to the blinking green lights on the server. I scratched the prickly hair on my jaw. My head was a goddamn mess. I needed to get back in the game. I needed to get control.

The bitter tang of coffee made me wince. Still, I swallowed and typed out the commands.

RC: I have another name

…

…

…

…

…

The lights blinked and blinked. I waited, drinking my coffee, and watched for a response. A response that may never come. Maybe he was hunting? Maybe he was—

SC: Give it to me.

My heart leaped at the command. I typed:

RC: Julius Harmon

…

…

I waited, but there was no response. Not that I’d really expected there to be. Not anymore. I logged off the server and closed the laptop down. Sitting back, I lifted my gaze to the brightening sunlight in the window.

She only had an apple.

My brows pinched.

She only had an apple, so she must be hungry.

I shook my head. No, that wasn’t something I cared about. If she didn’t eat what I’d made her, then it was her own goddamn fault.

Chomp.

The memory of her consuming the apple filled me. Before I knew it, I’d risen from the bench. I was hungry myself, wasn’t I? I turned my focus inward…but my belly was quiet.

“Fuck it,” I snarled and yanked open the cupboard, pulling out the glass container of oats.

She didn’t eat meat. So, what the hell did she eat?

Was she vegan?

Was she sick?

I stilled, standing over the stove. What if meat made her ill? What if any animal products did that?

Shit.

I snatched my cell from the counter and started typing a list. Fruits, vegetables, dairy-free butter and spreads. By the time I was done, my housekeeper had a message a mile long. I lowered the cell, then turned my attention to the oatmeal, searching the cupboards and the refrigerator for anything I could use.

I cooked the oats and added nutmeg, then spooned it into a bowl and topped it with sliced fruit. Soft slaps of bare feet snagged my attention. I jerked my gaze upwards and terror moved in, watching her step closer. “I smelled food,” she said carefully, her gaze flicking to the bowl.

“I…” I started. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Her belly gave a howl. The sound was loud and constant, causing me to push the bowl toward her. She glanced at the laptop as she slid onto the stool and pulled the oatmeal toward her. But if she cared about the MacBook, she hid it well, turning her attention to annihilating the food in front of her.

“Ooo…hot,” she hissed.

“Careful,” I snapped, striding closer. “The milk isn’t cold. It’s long-life, and all I had.”

Between gaping mouthfuls, she muttered. “These are the best oats I’ve ever had in my damn life.” She attacked again, scooping up the fresh peaches I’d sliced and shoving them in her mouth.

She ate like she was starving.

I’d never seen anything so goddamn mesmerizing.

Beautiful even.

I’d done that. I’d fed her like that. The best oats, that’s what she’d said. The best oats she’d ever had. “I can…I can cook you more if you’d like?”

I heard myself say the words, and yet it wasn’t me. I didn’t care, not about others and certainly not about her.

She gave a hint of a smile. It was just a flicker. Still, those dark brown eyes seemed to shine. “Sure, that’d be good.”

I slid my cell from the counter and tucked it into my pocket as she unleashed a deep, guttural moan and rubbed her belly. “Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so damn fast in my life. I feel like I’m about to explode.”

The motion drew my gaze as she tugged the black t-shirt higher, revealing her soft belly underneath. She stiffened, then lifted her gaze and tugged the shirt into place.

“Don’t.” I met her gaze. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

I rounded the counter, yanked the shirt, and tugged the damn thing upward until it not only revealed the swell of her belly, but the scars under her breasts as well. I froze, staring at them. One looked like a…like a knife wound, another a burn.

She shoved backwards. “Get the fuck off me.”

I let her go, unable to do anything else.

She almost slipped as she scurried off the stool and stumbled away from me. “Don’t you fucking touch me. Do you hear me? Don’t you fucking dare.”

Oh hell no. This wasn’t happening.

I would not let her hide and cower and hate.

She could direct that at me…

But not herself.

Not anymore.

I strode forward, closing the distance. She couldn’t get away fast enough, stumbling until she slammed against the wall. One slap of my hand on the wall beside her and I blocked her in. “You will show me all of you.”

She jutted her chin higher. “Over my dead body.”

Dead?

No.

I don’t think so.

A different scenario came to mind. One that would suit me a helluva lot better and would thoroughly piss her off. I flicked my gaze to the bedroom. “I suggest you use the bathroom.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m handcuffing you to the bed.”

Her mouth dropped open before she murmured. “You wouldn’t.”

I lowered my hand and leaned down. “Try me.”

There was a twitch in the corner of her eye before she slowly stepped sideways, sliding along the wall away from me. I liked the sensation of stalking her, allowing her just enough space to turn and run. She was smart, doing exactly as I’d told her and made for the toilet.

Her lips curled as I stepped into the doorway, watching her as she peed, then wiped. My breaths moved deeper, invading her privacy like that. I wanted more. I wanted everything.

She yanked up the boxers before turning to flush, those cheeks blazing as she moved to the sink. I saw the hesitation. The moment her brain screamed to fight. But she pushed that voice inside her head down, focused on washing her hands, and grabbed the towel.

“What did I do wrong?”

My breath caught. “What?”

She turned and met my stare. “I said, what did I do wrong?” She moved closer. “This is a punishment, right? I pulled my shirt down and now you’re going to punish me for it.”

I scowled. “This isn’t a punishment, Helene.”

“No?” She stepped past me and went toward the bedroom.

I followed, grabbing the cuffs. “No.”

She fought me, just like I knew she would. But she wasn’t strong enough to win…and in the end, I cuffed her wrist to the steel headboard before sucking in a hard breath. She jerked away when I brushed the hair from her eyes.

“Touch me again and I’ll bite.”

I smiled and nodded. “Just like I thought.”

I didn’t want to leave her. But I had to. As much as I enjoyed seeing her in my clothes, she couldn’t wear them forever. So I pulled on a shirt and sneakers, grabbed my cell and the keys, then headed for my car.

An emptiness washed over me as I backed out of the driveway. My hands clenched around the wheel, desperate to reach for the gears and drive back inside. But she wasn’t going anywhere. Not without me or the key in my pocket.

I forced myself to move, leaving her behind, and headed for a luxury shopping mall two suburbs away. I pulled in and parked near the entrance. If she wanted to hide from me, then I’d give her no option. I killed the engine and climbed out, locking the busted Audi behind me.

A glance over my shoulder and I winced at the dented grill and smashed headlight. That was another thing I needed to fix. But first…clothes. I headed for a clothing store I’d been in only once to purchase a top for a date. One she’d refused to wear, throwing it back in my face.

But that was different.

That was then.

And she wasn’t Helene Montgomery.

I stepped in and cast my gaze across the store. Heads turned my way. Even unshaven and in sneakers, they gravitated toward me, all smiles and shy glances. Until they came closer, close enough to stop in their tracks.

I didn’t know how they sensed it, but they did, making a sharp turn away from me…and hurried out of my way.

They smelled it.

All the horrific things I’d done.

Get on your fucking knees.

Don’t look at me.

Wider.

WIDER.

You’re nothing but a cunt. Do you hear me? Something warm for men like me to use.

You will wear red. Do you hear me, DAUGHTER?

YOU…WILL…WEAR…RED.

My own callous screams resounded in my head. It was as though they heard me, casting terrified glances my way as they scrambled out of my path. Until I reached the counter and the blonde behind it had no choice but to meet my cold, unflinching eyes and smile.

“How may I help you, sir?”

“I require clothes for a woman.”

Her shoulders curled as I cast my gaze downwards. Hate rolled through me, making my lip tremble. She invoked the same savage rage the others did. They were a means to an end, right? A thing for me to train. Not a person. Not someone like — “About two sizes larger than yourself.”

Her brow furrowed as she recoiled. “A size twelve?” she questioned, her voice shaky.

I gave a nod, then watched her hurry around the end of the counter and head to the racks of dresses, ladies’ suits, and leisure wear.

“Is there anything in particular she likes?”

I searched my memory. She’d worn black the night I met her, black and brown, the same color as her eyes. “Black. I’d like to see clothes in black.”

She pulled several sheer blouses and slacks free. I nodded and chose a few. “Shoes, as well,” I said, casting a glance along the display. Only I didn’t know her size.

Smears of blood rose, marking her damn territory all the way through my house from the shard of glass in her foot.

Come near me and I’ll pull out the shard and stab you in the eye.

“Sir?”

I jerked my gaze upward.

“Is there something funny?”

The curl at the corner of my mouth fell, leaving me to shake my head. “No.” I glanced at the heels and the flats in her hand. “I’ll take them both.”

The attendant gave a nod. “Is there anything else?”

I glanced around the store. “Yes, in fact, there is. Lingerie, I’d like something specific.”