Ours (Blood Ties Book 3)
Ours: Chapter 23

I chased the last drop of juice around the rim of the plastic cup, then set it back on the tray alongside the flimsy plate and cutlery. It’d been three days since they’d let me out. Supervised, of course. My every move was watched by him and the damn cameras, but we still hadn’t worked our way up to real metal utensils. Because the sonofabitch knew I’d take them to his goddamn face.

Him and his goddamn sons…

I stared at the tray, then turned toward the door to follow him. He let me accompany him downstairs to the study, even answered some of my questions about the house with clipped answers. Yes, his sons lived here. Yes, he knew about Ryth and her brothers. No, he wasn’t about to divulge her location or if they were even back at The Order.

He wouldn’t really tell me a goddamn thing.

Frustration seethed inside me.

But he knew…

Oh, fuck yes, he knew.

My mind shifted to the medical reports he poured over. If there was anything I was starting to understand about London St. James, it was that he was fucking conniving…and powerful. The DNA printouts had highly confidential stamped all over them.

He obsessed over them, scanning each one before moving on, then printed more. That only intensified my interest.

I wanted to know what he was looking for…

I wanted to know what he wanted.

And I wanted to know about Ryth…

Where she was, if she was safe…if she was even alive.

They wouldn’t kill her, that I was pretty sure of. No, The Order wouldn’t dare risk one of its captives. Still, I knew there were worse things than death. Like being locked away by a monster.

Darkness waited outside my window as I turned away from the new tray. It was night…late, too. Stars sparkled in the sky, glinting around a full moon. I made my way to the window, tracing my finger along the electronic locks, ones he’d made sure he mentioned, just in case I thought again about trying to escape.

Just like the door, right?

I glanced over my shoulder at the bedroom door.

He needn’t have bothered. Even if I escaped this hell, I had nowhere to run. No family was looking for me, no brothers desperate to get me back. Not even a goddamn friend I could call. Ryth had been the closest thing I’d ever had to a friend, and I’d lost her.

I turned away from the window and crossed the room, habit driving me forward. I didn’t know why I even tried. Every night the bedroom door was locked, and every night I went to sleep frustrated. But as I reached out, I realized one tiny detail. I hadn’t heard it click.

The door lock clicked at the same time every night. Set by a timer, I’d assumed. The tiny thunk always came just after he brought me the tray. I tried to think, tried to pick apart the minutes since he’d placed the tray on the dresser then turned to watch me with that hungry stare, and remember…

I hadn’t heard it.

I was sure.

My breath caught as I reached out, closed my hand around the handle, and pushed.

But instead of catching…it unlocked, bearing down until the hinges softly creaked.

My heart leaped, slamming against my chest. I eased the door closed, then froze. What if it was broken? What if the damn thing had somehow malfunctioned and if it was now fixed…if it clicked, then I’d have missed my chance.

I looked at the red blinking light of the electronic lock. It didn’t look right. Normally, the light was on, a solid red. Red for locked, green for open. It was broken…

I twisted the handle once more, praying with all I had that this wasn’t a joke, and it inched open slightly before I released my hold and dropped my hand. Darkness waited out there, on the other side of the door. Darkness and silence.

Was this a test?

It’d be just like him. He’d be waiting, watching to see what I’d do. I took a step away from the cracked open door, my mind racing. What would he expect me to do?

Run…

That’s what.

He’d expect me to slip down the stairs and try the front door, maybe even search the house for the back door. My mind skipped over the basement. Fuck, no, I wasn’t going down there. I wasn’t even thinking about that room…

Still, that machine rose inside my head, sending shivers along my spine. I reached out and hit the light switch, plunging the bedroom into darkness, then I stepped backwards, made my way to the bed, and sat down.

It was a test.

I was sure of it now.

See if I’d run.

See if I could be trusted.

I pulled my feet upwards and lay my head down, curled on my side, staring at that slither of inky blackness on the other side of the door and tried to think of all the possible reasons…and the outcomes.

Run…

Leave this house and these people.

And I’d have to keep on running, because it wouldn’t be just The Order after me, would it? No. There was no way London St. James would allow me to even get through the door before he dragged me back, kicking and screaming…

Try it…his cruel fucking tone filled me. Try and escape and see where that gets you.

I knew where it’d get me. My body quivered and my core clenched. I closed my eyes, willing the image of that thing away. He threatened me with it, promised it to me. “No,” I whispered, and opened my eyes. I wouldn’t let that happen.

So, I wouldn’t run…

But I sure as hell wasn’t about to stay a prisoner, either. Fuck that. I slowly sat up, slid my feet to the floor, and rose. My steps were light and soundless as I made my way to the open door. One careful push and I waited, standing in the doorway, my pulse thundering until the sound was all I could hear.

Only no one pounced.

I took a step out of the room and scanned the darkness, my senses hyperalert. Hard breaths consumed me as I waited. But there was nothing, not a hand reaching for me, not a stalker outside my door listening. I took a step forward, heading to the stairs.

They blurred as I watched in my peripheral, taking another step, then another, until I reached the railing. They weren’t here, weren’t waiting. Embolden with confidence, I moved faster, stepping down, keeping my footsteps light. I scanned the floors as I passed, replaceing a flicker of light coming from under a door on the second floor. I stopped…listening.

There was only silence.

Silence and the booming of my heart.

I kept going, stopping only when my bare feet hit the cold tiles of the foyer. I didn’t even look at the front door but kept walking along the hall until I made my way further through the house toward the kitchen. The tiny red light blinked on the electronic lock outside the basement, the same way the broken sensor blinked on my door. It had to be a malfunction.

I kept going, driven by those reports he seemed so obsessed over…and the contract hidden under his journal. The contract he hadn’t allowed me to see. I knew he couldn’t hurt me, knew I was nothing more than a ‘ward’ in his home. I belonged to The Order, still wearing black and not to be touched.

But if I knew anything about the vile bastard who held me prisoner in his home, he was tenacious. If there was a way around the contract, he’d replace it. I swallowed hard as I turned along the hallway that took me to his study.

He’d replace a way around it, that was a given…

So I had to protect myself.

I had to make sure I knew what I was in for…and plan for a way out. I stopped at the door, looked over my shoulder to the gloom, then turned back, to that same red flashing light on the door. My hands were shaking as I grabbed the handle and pushed. It moved. It fucking moved.

I hurried, stepped inside, and closed the door quietly behind me before I reached for the light switch. One tiny click, and the room illuminated. I almost smiled…almost thought I’d finally won…until I turned around, and in the middle of the room stood his sons.

“Well, well, well.” The one with platinum blond hair muttered, his blue eyes fixed on me. “Told you she’d come.”

I jerked my gaze to the other, who leaned against London’s desk with his arms crossed. That topaz stare shifted as he looked away.

But it was his twin who stepped forward and did all the talking. “Looking for something?”

I stiffened, panic racing as I looked at the quiet one once more.

“Don’t look at him.” Blondie flanked my side, moving to lean close and whisper against my ear. “He won’t help you.” Panic punched through me as he moved fast, lashing out to grasp the front of my throat and pull me back against him. “No one will help you with us.”

I bucked, clenching my fist. Instinct roared, screaming at me to fight. But I didn’t…I stayed still, leaving his hand around my throat while terror howled inside.

“Look at you,” Blondie whispered, his breath against my ear. “Looks like we have the perfect daughter. Obedient. Submissive.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled quietly.

He yanked me hard against his strong chest. “Defiant, too. He’s gonna like that.”

He…

I sucked in hard breaths, fighting the terrifying need to scream and kick and claw. Instead, I scrambled for whatever I could use. The contract…I could use the contract. “You c-can’t t-touch me,” I declared, my gaze moving to the silent one still leaning against the desk.

“Can’t?” his brother repeated at my back. “It’s just you here.” He reached around and palmed my breast, growling. “Pretty sure we can do whatever we want. There’s no one to stop us…no one to stop us from having a taste of a daughter.”

Daughter?

It was the second time he’d called me that. “I’m not your fucking daughter.”

He just chuckled, and no matter how hard I tried to hold onto the training The Teacher had forced into us, something inside me snapped. I clenched my fist, cocked my arm, and drove my elbow backwards into his stomach.

He gave an oof, his hold releasing enough for me to punch his arm and stumble away, lifting my clenched fist in front of me. “You just s-stay the fuck way from me.”

Blondie grinned, his focus fixed on me as he rubbed his stomach. “Looks like we got ourselves a wildcat here.”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

His gaze snapped toward mine and in an instant, that stare turned deadly. “How about I fuck you, instead?”

Cold plunged into my center.

He strode forward, no longer playing or teasing. No. He was an avalanche rushing toward me. I stumbled backwards, lifting my hand to shield myself. There was no amount of training that could protect me now, no amount of yielding that could stop a monster.

He grabbed me under the jaw, his fingers digging in each side until pain flared. There was nothing but darkness in that pitiless stare. “I can fuck you anytime I want. I’d take you kicking and screaming if it came down to it. In fact, I’d probably enjoy that a whole lot better. So the next time you decide to slink out of your room, wildcat, just remember…we’re always watching.”

The study door opened quietly behind him and London St. James entered carefully, his gaze moving from the monster in front of me to his mute goddamn brother, then to me. If the asshole with his hands wrapped around my throat was aware of the intrusion, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he moved forward, driving me backwards until I hit the black fireplace in the middle of the study.

My hand went back, bracing against the cold steel.

“Carven,” London said carefully. “Everything okay here?”

“Fine,” the monster answered, not once shifting his gaze from me. “We went mouse hunting and found a hellcat instead.”

“You were meant to be hunting something else,” his father said quietly.

Shallow breaths. A racing heart. The dim room bled to gray at the edges, but I refused to lose control. I wouldn’t crumble…I wouldn’t fall apart. I just stared into the eyes of a madman as he answered. “We were…we’re close, we’ll have the address by morning.”

He seemed to gain control of himself and released his cruel hold that still throbbed long after he dropped his hand and stepped away. I touched my jaw, massaging the deep throb. Still the asshole stared at me, drinking down every wince and flicker of fear that crossed my face.

“Then I suggest you keep at it,” London urged.

He might be their father, but it was clear in that moment that he had no control over his sons…how could he when they were nothing more than rabid animals?

“Until next time, hellcat,” Carven murmured, and looked me up and down, stopping at my breasts. “Maybe then we’ll get to play.”

“Colt,” London muttered, and the quiet one pushed up from the desk where he’d just stood by and watched this all play out. “Control your brother.”

Carven gave a chuff and turned away, glancing at his father before they went to the door and left.

Shudders wracked my body as the door closed behind them.

My shoulders sank and my body almost collapsed as I sucked in hard breaths. “Thanks,” I whispered, before I realized who I was thanking.

“Oh, don’t thank me, Vivienne.” London strode forward. That steely control was now sparking too cold, hard rage flared as he grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. “I want you to explain yourself instead. What the fuck are you doing in my goddamn study?”

My panicked gaze went to his desk…then to the black leather binder sitting neatly on the edge.

“Well?” His grip tightened as he stared down at me, rage sparking in his eyes. “Answer me.”

I lifted my gaze to his. “Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off me…” I snarled.

His brows rose for a second as surprise flickered. I was betting London St. James wasn’t used to many women biting back. He sure as hell wasn’t used to me. But he released his hold.

My mind was frantic, clawing at anything I could to keep him leashed. “You signed the contract. You can’t…can’t…”

“Can’t,” he mocked as he stepped forward to push me back and off balance. I hit the edge of the sofa behind me. “Fuck you, Vivienne. Is that what you’re trying to say? I can’t—” He lowered his gaze and sucked in a heavy breath, then took a step forward, driving me against the rolled armrest of the black leather sofa. “Make you wear red.”

A whimper slipped from me. But I swallowed the sound and answered. “Yes.”

There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Believe me…there are ways around any contract. Don’t push your goddamn luck. Now. I suggest you return to your room…unless you wish to have another encounter with my sons.”

That thought terrified me more than anything. I shook my head.

A jerk of his head, and he eased backwards.

I pushed up from the sofa, stumbled sideways, and hurried for the door.

“Goodnight, Vivienne,” he murmured at my back. “Sleep well.”