We pull into the estate garage, and I can see her nervousness. What I don’t understand is why. She knew who I was the moment I uttered my name. Acted like I was the devil himself. Well, I could be.
But she knows something.
For a girl ready to die, she sure has a lot of tells.
For instance, right now, I can see her nerves getting the best of her. She’s ready to bolt as soon as I unlock the door, only I know she won’t.
Her disappearance will be considered an act of betrayal by her family. They’ll torture, maim, then kill her.
I have a reputation for being ruthless, cunning, but I show mercy when it is earned.
“Why are you so nervous?” I ask her as I help her from the car. She’s so scared, her knees are weak. “You know something I don’t?”
Guilt swims in her gaze.
“Tell me.”
“Luther,” Cas calls for me before she decides.
“We’ll discuss this later.”
We walk through the entrance into the kitchen where Cas stands, an ever-serious look present on his face. He is the quietest of us all, liking to watch, read people and situations before he gives his input. So, when he speaks, we all listen.
“Who’s she?” he barks.
“Ariel McCray,” she whispers before I can reply.
The cocking of a gun is heard as Atticus enters the room from behind us. His gun less than an inch from her head.
I fight between brutal rage and understanding. Atticus had been shot twice and watched a comrade die while Lilith was taken hostage because of Thomas.
“What the fuck, Luth?” he snarls, his gun never wavering.
Accepting what I have to do versus what I want to do is going to be a problem. “She’s Timothy McCray’s kid. I have a feeling she’ll come in handy with some inside information.”
“McCray doesn’t have a kid,” Cas points out.
“Actually”—Daniel walks into the room—“he does. A fiery red-head just like her mama. Acquired after Timmy-boy moved stateside seventeen years ago.”
Talk about bombshell.
“Seventeen? Acquired?” Ariel’s voice is confused. “You must be wrong.”
Daniel looks down to the papers in his hand before answering her. “Nope. I may be off by a few weeks, but he’s only been in America seventeen years.”
“I was born here, though.” She’s struggling to accept what Daniel’s saying, and I can’t really blame her.
“Yes, you were,” he confirms.
“Get out,” I snap at everyone.
Fuck. I’m doing it again.
She’s got me tilted on my axis, and pretty soon, someone’s going to call me on it if the looks of the men in the room are anything to go by.
“I don’t understand,” she whispers.
I need to disengage my emotions from her— something I never thought I had— before I get myself in shit.
“He’s not your father.” My voice is brutal. Abrupt.
Her eyes widen in shock. Fear. Hurt.
Betrayal slices the deepest.
“He probably found your mother not long after she had you.” I inject a bored tone to my voice.
Her eyes narrow. “You don’t have to be a dick to distance from me.” Blunt. I like it. Before I can say anything else, she continues. “You want to use me? Let’s do it. I’m tired of this game.”
“Luther!” King’s voice bellows before I can respond to her.
“Sit.” I point to a stool by the wet bar. “Don’t move.”
Leaving her alone, I go in search of King. I know Daniel or Atticus must have told him who I brought home.
Observing the man watch Lilith walk up the stairs, I smirk. My friend’s hooked. I lose the grin as I realize fucking Ariel’s damn near got me by the balls, too.
“You rang,” I grunt.
“Who is she?” he asks. No need to decipher who he means.
“Thomas McCray’s niece. She does the buying and selling, sets up meetings. If you want to hit this family hard, she’s the pawn to use.”
“You’re okay with this?” He finally turns to meet my cold stare.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I barely know the girl.”
“Cas seems to think there’s a tension between the two of you.”
A snort of derision leaves me. “She’s a beauty; I won’t lie. We want this threat gone, then we need to use her.”
He studies me, assessing, trying to figure out if I’ll be a problem where she’s concerned.
“Use her,” I say. “She was ready to die this morning. What’s different on the method if we get what we need?” Remaining cold is going to be the only way to get what we need from her.
King’s stare is glued over my shoulder. I know she’s there. I also know that with his new-found interest in love, he won’t utilize the girl if he suspects I’m interested, so I ignore the beauty standing behind me as I plot her demise.
Ariel
I always knew there was something off about me. I never felt as connected to Timothy as I thought I should be.
Hearing that he’s probably not my biological father makes a lot of sense.
Not that it matters.
I’m dead, anyways.
Whether it’s because he catches me spying on him for Luther, or because I don’t get what he needs and Luther kills me, remains to be seen.
I’m trying to find that spark for life that should be present inside of me; something screaming for me to care. I can’t. There’s nothing left.
Following after Luther, I expect his callous words to bring forth a reaction. He is plotting my death after all. But there’s nothing there. Maybe a hint of melancholy, but nothing more.
It’s hard to be sad about a life I no longer want to be a part of. There’s nothing in this world for me. If I’m dead, at least, I have the chance at finding forgiveness and redemption, maybe even being with my mom again.
A fool’s dream.
But a dream nonetheless.
A man, a dark, imposing man with cold eyes, meets mine as Luther explains how they’re going to exploit me. In them, I see my fate. Even he can’t hide what waits for me.
As they finish talking, and Luther turns towards me, he waves me over.
“King, this is Ariel.”
“I’d say it’s a pleasure, but well, it’d be a lie,” I say to him, and I see the first speck of emotion arise within his gaze.
“Christ, Ariel,” Luther groans beside me.
“I like her,” King comments, walking away.
“Do you know what he’ll do to you?” Luther growls.
“Do I care?” I shoot back.
Disbelief flickers in his stare for a second before his mask falls back in place.
“Follow me,” he instructs, turning his back as he walks up the stairs.
With no other choice but to go along, I climb the marble steps after him, admiring the detail in the mansion as we go. Everything is pristine as we walk along two hallways and up another short flight of stairs.
When Luther opens the doors into a room, I’m taken aback at the sheer size of it. A massive sleigh bed sits center stage. The rest is open space, other than a dresser and two doors that I assume lead to walk-in closets and an en-suite bathroom.
What surprises me most, though, is that there are personal touches here and there. Books on a shelf, clothes hanging on a doorknob. An unmade bed.
“Is this your room?” I’m almost afraid of the answer.
Before I know what’s happening, Luther has my hair in a fisted grip, and his mouth is crashing down on mine.
I’m stunned at first. I’ve never been touched by anyone but my mom, and that certainly wasn’t in a sexual manner. In fact, all things involving pleasure of the human body have always turned me off. After the things I’ve seen and done, it’s a wonder that I feel a fire shoot through my veins as his tongue touches my bottom lip.
His hands on my body are violent. Bruising. He pulls me into his frame, and I feel his throbbing member press against my belly. His mouth is still moving over mine.
As much as I like it, I fight to enjoy it.
Nothing good comes from sex.
I can’t imagine it being any different coming from a mindless killer.
He pushes me away, a look of anger on his face. I don’t know what to do when his punishing grip moves to my hips, and he lifts me like a feather, carrying me to the bed.
“What are you doing?” I whisper as he drops me on my back.
“You have no idea, do you?”
“About what?” I’m breathless at the predatory look in his eyes.
“You, Ariel.” His words hold so many emotions that I can’t identify a single one. “You’ll be mine. Every fucking inch.”
“You sound angry about that,” I whisper, almost afraid of what he’ll do.
“I’m pissed. I’m a killer. I don’t do emotions.”
Why does that disappoint me? Just a few hours ago, I was planning to die. Plummet to my death. Now, the thought of Luther not wanting me physically hurts.
“You can be used against me,” he explains. “If your dad or uncle find out about us, you certainly will be. They’ll treat you worse than the women and children they’re selling. You’ll be nothing more than a bargaining chip to them.”
Lovely.
He must see the fear in my eyes as he kneels between my legs, forcing his way over me. “I won’t let them.” His gaze is feral. More animal than man. “I won’t let you, either, Ariel.” That last part is whispered.
“I can’t go back,” I tell him. I know his friends want to cast me as bait. I’m a shitty liar, however, and I know my father will see right through anything I do.
His fingers, rough, yet somehow gentle, run through and tug on my flaming locks as he growls against my cheek, “You’re not going back.”
“Your friends, though…” My words trail off.
“They know nothing. King will understand.”
Before I can say another word, his lips are covering mine.
Brutal.
Strong.
Fierce.
He claims me.
Luther
She’s a skittish thing as I plunder her mouth. I plan to keep every inch of that delectable body beneath me. She’ll feel my ownership throughout her entire body when I’m done with her.
First, the McCray’s have to be eliminated.
She’s the key to their operation. She knows the clients, the products, the shipments. Everything.
And if I send her in, she’s as good as dead.
I know they have her on a tight leash, and with her being gone all day, they’ll be looking and suspicious.
I push those thoughts to the back of my mind as she tentatively allows her tongue to come play with mine. Her hands lightly scrape my sides as my grip in her hair and on her hip tighten.
I want my fucking mark on her. I crave it. Then everyone will know she not only belongs to me but the entire fucking empire.
She’ll be untouchable.
“Luther…” Her whine makes my chest puff up and has pride rolling through me.
“Ariel,” I groan back, digging my raging hard-on into her little cunt. What I wouldn’t give to be balls deep inside of her right now. Only problem is, it’s going to have to wait. Leaning back away from her, I meet her stare. Hooded, pleasurable, alive. “I have to work,” I tell her. “Stay here. Rest. I’ll be back later.”
She fucking pouts.
This girl who had been knocking on death’s door hours ago pouts at the loss of me.
Fuck yeah.
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
Getting up from the bed, I hate leaving the succulent package that is her lithe body. Regret fills me when fear clouds her vision.
I need to walk away before I fall back into bed with her.