Brutal King (The Seven Deadly Sinacores #7)

Chapter 14

14

GIDEON

The dark room is filled with the echoes of the mourning crowd. It reverberates through my chest and triggers the instinct to join in their cries.

There’s a body in a pretty white box at the front of the church. It takes my small legs a long time to get to it. I stand upon the step set up just for me, and peer down at the beautiful woman, touch her red hair and cold skin. Her green eyes flutter open and she smiles.

They took her from me before I could remember her, yet I see her now.

“How is this possible?” I ask.

She makes to talk, but her lips have been sewn shut. So instead, she stares at me, pleading for me to understand the message she’s conveying.

My father stands beside me and looks at her sadly. Then, he bends to me and whispers, “No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, remain hidden until you have the power to take them all.”

I frown in confusion. “But, I have the power now.”

“You only think you do.”

I wake from the haunting dream with a feeling of dread and foreboding. It’s my recurring nightmare, something that seems like a warning, but I can’t understand the message.

Father believed in the afterlife. He believed my mother’s spirit lingered. That she was waiting to be avenged before she could move on. If that is true, why is she still haunting me? Why does she come when I’m fighting to avenge her husband’s death?

My revenge against Clive Maxton has been set into motion. I arrived at Thomas Cameron’s house just in time to prevent his daughters, Imogen Skye and Maisel, from running.

When I pulled up to the Victorian house in Philadelphia, my men surrounded it. I went to the back, knowing they’d run once they heard the front door being rammed in. However, when I turned the corner, I spotted someone in the shadows.

I paused, curiosity getting the better of me. He peeked through the windows before standing at the back door. Sounds could be heard inside, female voices and rushing feet.

The door opened and the man’s face was lit. He sneered, displaying a row of gold teeth. “Hello, pretty girl.”

“What do—” Skye screamed as I blew his brains out.

It was a gut reaction to his expression, one that told me he was about to pounce.

The man fell forward and both girls jumped back. Skye immediately caught sight of me, the gun in my hand, and knew the danger I posed. Her arms went out protectively. It was exactly what I hoped for. She needs that protective instinct to follow through on the mission I set her on.

Avoiding the thick puddle of blood on the floor, I stepped into the kitchen. I gave her my most friendly smile and greeted her. “Hello, Skye.”

She didn’t trust me, it was to be expected. “Maze,” she said to her sister over her shoulder. “Run.”

My grin widened because there was nowhere to go, the men were inside now. Dan, a beast of a man, grabbed Maisel before she could take a single step. She fought him, kicking and biting, but he’s used to pain and it didn’t faze him in the least.

Seeing her sister captured like that had Skye attacking, also to no avail. She bounced off Dan’s chest and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Calm yourself, woman,” I told her. “Let’s talk.”

The realization that she could do nothing was palpable. I didn’t envy her helplessness. I’ve been there before.

“Are you going to kills us?” Skye asked and looked at her sister.

“I don’t want to kill either of you,” I replied honestly.

“Then what do you want?”

I made her an offer, then. One she couldn’t refuse. In exchange for her sister’s life, she must acquire a secret for me. Infiltrate Arran’s underworld and discover Clive’s location.

“How?” she asked desperately.

“Do whatever it takes to earn his trust,” I ordered her. “Fuck him. Love him. Give him your fucking soul. I don’t care. Find out where Arran is hiding Clive and no one will ever bother you again. Your sister and you will be free from it all. Maisie will be safe.”

As I knew she would, she accepted. There is no other choice.

While I negotiated with the eldest Cameron sister, Scarlet did the same with Wesley Ritter. He’s to use his connection to Arran and set the trap. Skye will be offered at Asta, Arran’s auction house where the rich and powerful battle for pleasure. It’s where the truly wealthy bid on their carnal desires. Instead of things, it’s men and women who are placed on the pedestals.

The bait will be dangled in front of Arran. Skye, the daughter of the man he believes killed his sister. He’ll have her. There’s no way he’ll let her go to anyone else. His desire for revenge will be too strong.

I left Maisel in Scarlet’s capable hands. Though she isn’t happy, I’m sure she’ll adapt. Besides, I certainly couldn’t bring her here.

Clive’s death is so near, I can almost smell the lilies on his coffin. I’ll be one step closer to having avenged my father, and yet Mother comes to me with her wordless warnings.

I’m disturbed and unsettled, my stomach tight with anxious expectation. Sweat covers my face and body. The sheets cling to me in the worst way, where even the cats have abandoned me.

It’s not just the dream. I could feel my body succumbing to some invisible threat before I left Kingsbrook. By the time I came back, it had declared an all-out war on my system. I practically fell out of the chopper and dragged myself onto the first soft surface I came upon.

I had a dream then, too. A fucking sweet vision of Sofia writhing beneath me, naked except for my gray sweatshirt.

A smile spreads across my lips in spite of the aches still plaguing my body. I’d happily endure any fever if in my delirium I imagine taking her. My cock agrees, stiffening at the mere thought of burying myself in her tight heat. Of being the first one there.

All. Fucking. Mine.

At some point, I must have made my way up and slept the rest of the day and through the night. Fuck me.

What I need is medicine and a shower. A hot one where I can warm up and dispel the cold brought on by an ominous dream and the virus that assaulted me.

From my nightstand, I take out two acetaminophens before going into the shower. Heat seeps into my muscles and with my rising temperature, thoughts of Sofia take over. She’s under me, perfect tits, tight pussy. My pussy. Mine.

With one hand against the tiled wall, I pump my dick with the other as the water jets pour down my back. I slide my palm over my rock-hard shaft, wishing it would feel as good as Sofia’s tight cunt. It doesn’t take long before I shoot out ribbons of cum onto the shower floor. Water washes away any evidence of the things I did to Sofia in my mind.

I dress in a casual blue suit, replacing the ankle holster and knife. But when I go for my phone, I find it missing from the charging dock. Wherever it is, my wallet and coin are with it.

“Fuck.”

Retracing my steps, or what I believe they were from yesterday, I head to the great room downstairs. I stop dead in my tracks before entering, confused by the sight that greets me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Sofia squeaks and jumps away from the couch as she tucks her hands behind her back. “Y-you’re up? I didn’t think you’d be awake already, you were so sick.”

I stalk toward her. “What are you hiding?”

She shakes her head and shrugs. “Nothing.”

I’m in front of her in two steps. She attempts to flee, but I easily wrap my arms around her and grab her by the wrists. However, when I pull them out from behind her, it takes me a second to grasp what I’m seeing.

“What’s on those rags?” I demand. “Blood?”

Her eyes widen and flick for the merest of moments toward the couch. Without releasing her, I turn to it too.

There’s a red stain on one of the cushions, stark against the ivory. Just as I washed away the evidence of what I did in my mind, she’s trying to vanish the remnants of what happened in reality.

“It was real.” I turn to her in need of confirmation, but she doesn’t have to say a word. It’s written all over her face. “Sofia.”

“Let me go!” She tugs free of my hold.

I grind my teeth. “Everything that happened, it wasn’t a dream.”

“Unfortunately, you got me at a weak moment.” She tosses the rags onto the coffee table next to my phone and wallet. “The couch is ruined.”

“I can get a new one,” I say dismissively, because that’s not what matters here. “You were a virgin.”

“Like I said, I was weak.” She sighs and limps to the fireplace to toss in another log. “Why is it always so cold in here?”

“It’s a large house, impossible to heat it all. Did I hurt you?”

She grimaces. “My first time should have probably been with someone… smaller.”

The thought of her with anyone else tints my vision a nasty shade of red. I’m in front of her again, my hand wrapped around her thin arm. “You weren’t meant for anyone else.”

She glares at me, but says nothing.

Slowly, I regain control of my temper. I’ve never been one quick to anger, however, Sofia is helping me discover new and unsettling sides to my personality. Lack of restraint isn’t a good quality in a man with power.

I let out a long breath and release my hold on her. In a more refined manner, I say, “I’m sorry that it hurts, but I don’t regret that I’m the one that caused that particular pain.”

“What kind of an apology is that?”

“It’s not.” I come close to her again, bending down to inhale her scent. “You smell like me. Did you shower?”

Her eyes snap to mine and a flush spreads across her cheeks. “After you took me to your room and we… I fell asleep. When I woke up it was already morning and I wanted to clean the couch before you saw the mess.”

“Why? It’s a beautiful mess.” One that tightens my insides and stirs my cock to life.

“Don’t be dirty.”

“Because you don’t like it?”

She refuses to answer my question, but her expression gives her away.

“You do like it.” I grin, pleased at how well I can read her.

“Whatever.” Groaning, she makes to go.

I snatch her by the wrist and stop her. “Does it really hurt or are you exaggerating the limp to make me feel bad?”

“Both,” she admits.

My wolfish grin turns into a gentle smile as I tug her back to me. “I’m sorry that it hurts.”

“What are you doing?” she asks in a panic when I swoop her off her feet.

“I’m going to make it up to you.” I carry her up to my bathroom and set her near the claw foot tub I never use. While it fills with water, I begin to undress her. “If I get rid of this sweatshirt too, will you produce another one?”

“Yes.”

I chuckle. But, the laughter soon dies when I remove her clothes and she lets me without a single word of protest. She stands in front of me naked and stunning and completely unashamed.

“What?” she asks. “You’ve already seen it all.”

“I was half out of my mind with a fever. I thought it had been a dream.”

“Oh.” Her arms come across her chest as if she’s just now realizing that my memory might be fuzzy.

“Don’t,” I tell her, pulling her arms down so that I can see her fully. “You’re so beautiful.”

Every curve, her small breasts crested by pink nipples, the dark triangle between her thighs just above the sweet, sweet slit. Her eyes are a bright sapphire that contrasts perfectly against her dark hair and pink cheeks.

“You look like you’re about to eat me,” she says.

“Soon.”

She glances at me, the pink of her cheeks deepening, but says nothing.

I help her into the warm bath. She sinks into it up to her neck and sighs. While she rests, I gather a few things— a sponge, soap, and a clean robe.

“Why doesn’t my suite have a tub?” she asks when I return.

Sitting beside her, I motion her forward so that I can wash her back. “Most of the renovated bathrooms don’t.”

“You have one.”

“Which you may use anytime you wish.” I rub the soapy sponge over her back and arms, allowing my fingertips to graze her skin as I go.

“Mmm. Does this personalized service come with that offer?”

I pause, surprised by her question. It must surprise her too because she suddenly has a coughing fit. “I meant— that if— that came out wrong.”

“I’d gladly wash you anytime,” I say roguishly. “Just say the word, and you’ll have me doing your bidding.” I push her back just as she rolls her eyes.

“I can wash myself.” She attempts to take the sponge from me, but instead, ends up holding my hand as I plunge it between her legs and wash her there.

Releasing the sponge, I use only my fingers to gently clean between her folds.

She shuts her eyes and lets out a distressed, “God help me.”

“God isn’t here, Little Bird. If you want me to stop, you must help yourself.”

“You’re a monster,” she says, but her hand remains on mine as I stroke and tease.

“A monster you fucked all too willingly.”

“I had no choice! You threatened to kill my brother if…” she moans.

“You held my attention. I never said anything about sex. It’s you that decided to go this route. Could it be because deep down it’s what you wanted?”

“I could never love you.”

“Are you so sure about that?” I turn my hand and feel her against my knuckles. “You’re wet. So wet and so ready for me. Tell me you want me inside you again.”

She lets out a strangled cry, as if she’s fighting it, but can’t hold it in. “Yes. I want you inside.”

I laugh and she shivers. “I might be vile, but you’re the one that wants me in spite of what I’ve done, maybe more because of it. Is that what it is? You like that I’m dangerous? That I’ve killed men. That I can so easily kill you if I wanted to? Is that what turns you on?”

“I hate you!”

“You say that, and yet you want me. Do you know why that is? Have you wondered about it? What’s inside of you that would make you want someone who does bad things?”

“Why are you doing this? I’m not a bad person. I’m not. I…”

“Aren’t you? Have you even wondered if I’m redeemable? No. You don’t seem like the kind to want to change a man. You want me just the way I am because in your heart, you know we’re the same.”

“I would never do the things you do.” There’s doubt in her voice.

“Perhaps that’s true. Or, perhaps you just haven’t had the chance.” I insert one finger and she cries out. Two, and she bucks against me. Three has her pressing my palm to her clit as she pumps against it.

Lust and desire take over her and I think she forgets I’m here. But I don’t care. Watching her pleasuring herself, feeling her soft pussy in my palm and her wetness around my fingers is absolute perfection.

I’m hard as steel, precum leaking from the slit on the head of my shaft. My balls tighten as she contracts around my fingers and makes herself come.

When she’s done, she releases my hand and rolls her head toward me. With a wicked smile, she says, “I’m sorry if you felt used, but I don’t regret it.”

A roar of laughter bursts from me. “Just. Like. Me.”

Her smile fades and she stands abruptly. “I’m nothing like you.”

Standing too, I grab the white fluffy robe and wrap her in it. When she peers up at me, I say, “Yet.”

I missed several calls and two texts from Scarlet.

Scarlet: 990

The message comes in with a code we use to prove it is us. The first sends a random number, and the other replies with the same in reverse.

Scarlet: Are you alive?

Me: 099. And yes.

As I expected, the phone rings.

“What the hell? Why weren’t you answering?” Scarlet demands.

“I’ve been busy.”

“You left me here with this kid, and I have shit to do too.”

“The shit I gave you to do,” I correct. “Which is to take care of Maisel.”

“Maisie.”

“What?”

“You know she doesn’t like it when you call her Maisel.”

“Why do you think I call her that?” I grin as I think about the feisty teen who isn’t afraid of me. “How is she handling it?”

“Better than any other kid in her situation.” She goes silent for a second. “I feel guilty. She’s only fifteen. What if this scars her for life?”

“The death of her father has already done that.”

“But, we’re compounding to it.” She sounds exasperated, which concerns me. “Maisie should be worried about high school, not criminals.”

“It was Thomas Cameron’s responsibility to keep them from harm. He failed.”

“So now she pays the price? Another innocent life affected by what we do?”

I listen to what she’s saying and what she’s not. Another innocent life. It’s not just Maisel she’s talking about.

“Alma was an accident,” I remind her.

She swallows audibly and lets out a breath. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“They aren’t’ the same.”

“Aren’t they?”

“Scarlet,” I say in a warning tone, refusing to let her go down that hole again. “Alma shouldn’t have been at Flag’s Point. That’s on Luca and her father. Maisel is under our protection. If you keep her safe until her sister completes her mission, it will be worth it. I’ll make sure they live the rest of their lives in peace and far away from their enemies.”

“Right.” There’s doubt in her tone. Doubt she’s never had before.

“If you need me to find another place for her?—”

“No,” she cuts me off quickly. “I got it.”

The short conversation remains with me for a long while. There have been minute changes in Scarlet ever since she accidentally killed Alma. Now, I’m beginning to wonder if leaving the youngest Cameron with her was a mistake.

No. She’s trained to compartmentalize her emotions. Regardless of how she feels, Scarlet will follow orders. Her loyalty to me will remain intact.

Besides, it won’t be long before Skye manages to get me the information I want. As predicted, Arran was unable to keep himself from bidding on her. One million dollars won him the beautiful prize. The Trojan horse, armed to penetrate his defenses.

Once she does, Clive Maxton will be mine, and Skye and Maisel will be free.

My phone buzzes, breaking my train of thought. It’s the system that alerts me that an incorrect password has been used at the door that leads to the garage.

I access my security system and pull up the camera feed. Sofia is staring at the red-lit keypad, her fingers still hovering over the numbers.

“Try number two,” I say with grin. She’ll try again, of that I’m sure. And when she does, there will be a delicious price to pay.