Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
FLORA
I slide into the hot water, the warmth curling around me, seeping into my stiff muscles. The events of the day swirl through my mind.
Is this my life now, being a captive to two biker brothers?
So very different from five years ago. My parents were alive and I was living in London. Life seemed so much easier. Predictable. But how happy was I really? I had nobody but my parents. Now, trapped in this cabin, my captors are as close as it gets to human connection. I dunk my head in the water, letting it rise well over my ears, closing off the world. I shut my eyes, letting my thoughts go wild. I think of Dax and Lyka, their touches, words, anger, protectiveness, and shocking tenderness.
Am I falling for them? Do I care about them? Or is it just the result of being held captive, a psychological trick in my mind?
The Faulkner brothers haunt my mind, making me feel scared yet strangely safe.
I forget I'm underwater. Panic surges and my lungs start to ache for air. I lift my head upwards and break the surface with a gasp, the water cascading down my face. I draw a deep breath, feeling the heart pound against my chest. I lean backward on the rim of the tub, wiping at the water on my face. The sound of footsteps outside the bathroom door pulls me back to reality. I tense up, wondering which brother it is. The door opens a crack and Dax peers through, his face a picture of concern. “All good in here?” he asks.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He steps inside, his gaze scanning the room until it finally rests on me. Something in his expression when he looks at me makes my heart flutter to life despite everything.
“You've been in here a while,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “Just wanted to make sure you're alright.”
“Yeah, just thinking…”
Dax just nods, his expression impossible to read. “Well, don't stay in too long. We need you downstairs soon.”
As he turns to leave, I call out to him, my voice shaking. “Dax?”
He stops, turning to face me. “Yeah?”
“Today, I saw a darker side of you.”
“Really? So, keeping you chained up, the branding, wooden toys, you didn't see the dark side then?”
“Today…felt different.”
“Everyone has a dark side, flower. Some people just don’t show it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and look away. Before he leaves the bathroom, I tremble, “Thank you.”
I don't know why I am thanking him. He gives me the smallest, most tentative smile. “Get dressed and come on down when you're ready.” He closes the door.
No! What the fuck am I thinking?! They lied about a lockdown! They have branded me! They tied me up and used wooden toys on me! What the fuck am I feeling ?
I get out of the tub and glimpse myself in the mirror. My eyes instantly go to the F branded into my skin. I can’t help feeling this strange connection to it. I run my finger over the scar and let out a sigh. I dry my body and get dressed.
I make my way into the living room and my breath catches in my throat as I enter. Dax and Lyka look immensely hot in their skin-tight, white shirts and black trousers that seem to further accentuate their bodies, already so rugged in appearance.
Lyka walks toward me as he approaches me with a smile, takes my hand, and gently presses his lips against my knuckles. “Because you have been such a good girl, we want you to experience a proper date,” he says softly, in such an inviting way.
Dax approaches, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a glimpse of his chiseled chest. His eyes smolder, gazing straight into mine. It makes me feel weak.
Fuck! They look like gods! They are so fucking hot!
Dax leans in close, his breath hot in my ear. “We want to dress you up, cook you dinner, and then get down on our knees and fuck you with our tongues.” My whole body quivers.
I swallow and my brain shifts into overdrive. Lyka lets go of my hand and steps back.
“We’re gonna take you to a store so that you can pick out a dress.”
My eyes fly open and I'm genuinely shocked. Feeling my surprise, Dax clamps down at the back of my neck with his hand. His fingers glide into my skin, reminding me of their dominance and control.
“Don't get your hopes up,” Dax growls, his voice low, rumbling, and full of threat. “You pull any shit and we’ll punish you.”
Lyka steps closer; his eyes pierce into mine. He holds my cheeks in his strong hand, squeezing them tight. “Do you understand?” Lyka asks firmly.
I nod as much as I can against the tight hold. “Yes,” I force out.
Lyka's eyes search mine for a hint of rebellion or deceit. Detecting none, he releases my cheeks.
“Good girl,” Dax says, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. “We're putting trust in you, flower. Don't make us regret it.” His eyes never leave mine, a silent warning. I breathe in deep, trying to still my racing heart.
Lyka takes my hand, his grip firm yet reassuring, and we leave the cabin. The moon is bright in the sky, tangling everything with its silvery light. The forest falls silent around us—nothing except the crunch of our footsteps on the gravel path and the echo of an owl's call.
Dax walks to the garage, pulling out the dark green Land Rover. The headlights cut through the darkness and a path is illuminated. Lyka walks me to the passenger side, his hand never leaving mine. He opens the door and I climb into the front seat, feeling the soft leather beneath. It has three seats, enough for us all to sit together in front.
Lyka comes in behind me, shutting the door. Dax looks at me briefly before shifting the car back into drive.
As we drive, the silence in the car grows so thick that my heart thrashes around my chest with a mix of fear and anticipation. It feels like it has been forever since I saw stores, people, or anything resembling the normal world.
We finally reach the fringes of the small town. Streetlights flicker to life as we pass by, casting their glow across quaint stores and silent streets.
We pull up in front of a twenty-four hour store, the neon sign above the door pulses softly. Dax kills the engine and there is a d eafening silence. He turns to study me, his eyes hard and unreadable.
Lyka opens the glove box. My heart skips a beat when I see the glint of metal inside. He reaches in and retrieves a pistol, passing it to Dax. He takes the pistol, his fingers curling around it with a familiarity that terrifies me. He catches my eye, his gaze cold and unyielding. “Just a reminder that we expect you to behave,” he says, his voice dangerous.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. Their gun is a constant reminder of the hold they have over me. Lyka opens the door, helping me out with his grip tight.
Dax has pulled the Land Rover into a dark corner of the parking lot. I look at Dax, searching for the shape of a gun, but it's hidden somewhere.
They walk beside me as we enter the store. I look like a tramp compared to them in their sleek attire.
The automatic doors slide open and we step inside the brightly lit store. My heart pounds in my chest with every beat echoing in my ears. We move through the aisles as shoppers engrossed in their own personal lives go around us, ignorant of the silent drama unfolding amidst them.
I feel a strange mix of fear and longing when I see other people going about their daily, mundane tasks. Lyka steers me into the area for clothes. “Look around and pick something you like,” he says. Dax stands slightly behind us, his gaze sweeping the area, being vigilant.
I weave in and out of the racks, my fingers trailing across fabrics alien to my skin after so long. A deep red dress catches my eye. Elegant with a modest neckline, it flows down in a full skirt. I touch it, feeling the smooth texture under my fingers. Lyka nods in approval. “Very sexy. Try it on.”
He steers me toward the fitting rooms with Dax following close behind. As we approach the fitting rooms, I hear a voice rising behind me. “Flora!” My body halts and I can feel the heart jumping up to my throat. Turning around, I see Marty walking towards me with a young lady. Lyka's grip tightens around my hand. He bends close to me, whispering, “Stay calm. Don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Marty saunters over, his expression curious. “What are you doing here? Nancy said you went to London.”
I fumble for an excuse, trying to put on a light smile. “Marty, ahh, yes,” I reply quickly. “I did, but I'm just back sorting the house out for the week.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied that my explanation is good enough for him. He shoves the woman toward me and I take a second to look her over. “Ah, cool. Well, guys, this is my girlfriend, Summer.”
Summer could be in her late twenties, a feature that makes her quite distinct from Marty. Given his known preferences in the past, I cannot help but note the irony.
Lyka tugs on my hand, signaling it's time to leave. “Well, Marty, it's good seeing you,” I respond, trying as hard as I can to slip away with Lyka.
We turn around, but Marty calls out after us again, stopping us. “Wait, aren’t you one of the Faulkner brothers?” he asks, his voice wary.
Lyka takes a step closer to Marty, his tone dangerously soft. “Do we have a problem?”
Dax rushes to his side and places himself beside Lyka. I can see Dax balling a fist.
Just fuck off, Marty.
Marty's eyes flicker between us, then finally land on Summer. “No, no. Well, anyway, Flora, nice seeing you,” he says, then turns quickly and walks away with Summer .
We walk to the fitting rooms and I’m tempted with a narrow window of escape.
Lyka's hand on my wrist reminds me of my precarious situation. We reach the fitting rooms and he ushers me inside, his eyes scanning the area for any lingering threats. “We will be just outside the fitting room.”
I go inside an available stall, take off my clothes, and slip into the dress. I stand in front of the mirror and see that the red dress hangs on me so beautifully. The dress embraces my body in all the right places. I allow myself to be beautiful in that moment.
I reluctantly take off the dress and put on my own clothes again. While preparing to leave the fitting room, I bump into Jenna and her friend. Her shoulder connects with mine as she eyes me up and down with a face full of loathing, muttering, “Whore.”
The word slaps me in the face. Part of me wants to attack her for an explanation, to defend myself. Another part of me knows it could easily spiral into a confrontation, drawing unwanted attention—especially with Dax and Lyka waiting outside.
I act as if I didn't hear her. There is no way I can afford to fight with her and not attract everyone's eyes in this public place. With my head held high, I pass Jenna and her friend, never looking at them while keeping my inside turmoil intact.
Shit! I forgot the clothes hanger.
As I walk back to pick up the hanger I had left in the stall, I can't help but hear Jenna and her friend in the next stall over. Their voices ring out, packing a punch through the thin walls.
“I still can't believe Jonny ran her father off the road,” Jenna whispers with an unsettling chuckle from her friend.
My heart sinks, my eyes well up with tears, and there is a lump i n my throat. The words echo again in my mind, confirming what I just heard.
Jonny killed my father.
I burst out from the fitting room in fright, the red dress forgotten. I stumble past racks of clothes, trying to escape the painful truth hammering in my mind.
“Flora!” Dax shouts out. I can hear their heavy footsteps behind me. I get outside the store.
Dax catches my arm, spinning me around with force in his tight hold. “We warned—” Dax’s voice drops as soon as he looks at my expression and tear-stained face.
I collapse into Dax's arms and he stalls for a second. He lifts me and carries me toward the Land Rover. Lyka quickly opens the door, and together, they settle me into the passenger seat. They look me up and down, their faces a mix of worry and determination.
Dax's voice is calm, yet fierce as he asks, “What happened, flower? Who do we need to kill?”
I take a shaking breath, attempting to steady myself enough so that I will have the ability to talk.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I recount what I had overheard Jenna say in the fitting room. My words shake with emotion as I tell them how Jonny ran my father off the road, killing him. Dax's jaw visibly grinds as his eyes glint sharply. Lyka's expression darkens, his gaze turning hard with a silent promise of protection. “Flora,” Lyka says softly. “Look at me.” I meet his eyes, feeling unsafe and vulnerable. Lyka's eyes search mine for a moment before he nods to himself as if reaching a decision. “We'll take care of it,” he says finally, his tone full of authority. “You're a Faulkner. No one fucks with a Faulkner.”
I nod and my eyes fill with tears, breaking out in a flood of emotion as the weight of Jenna's words hits me again, followed by haunting memories rushing into my head of Dad's passing .
Suddenly, amidst my turmoil, Marty's voice pierces through the haze. “Hey, hey, Flora,” he calls out, jogging over towards us. His brows furrow with concern.
“Marty, please, not now,” I rasp, trying to hold my tone steady as my emotions threaten to break down further. Dax and Lyka cross their arms in a protective stance.
“Why are you crying, Flora? What's going on? Do I need to call the police?” Marty asks.
Dax steps out, moves forward, and asks in a dangerously low voice, “Where is your girlfriend, Marty?”
“Waiting in the car, why?”
In one quick, unexpected motion, Dax grabs Marty's head and slams it hard onto the side of the vehicle. There is a sickening thud of impact, a sharp crack, and blood instantly pouring out of Marty's nose. His body sags against the car, dazed and shocked from the sudden attack.
I gasp, instinctively reaching out to him, but Lyka holds me back.
Dax releases Marty, stepping back. “You stay away and don’t ever think about her again. Do you fucking understand?” he growls, the clear warning in his deep voice.
Marty staggers back, clutching his bleeding nose. His eyes are wide with disbelief and pain.
“Ok, ok, I'm…I'm sorry,” Marty mumbles.
“Go!” Lyka interjects with a firm voice as he points toward Marty's car. “Get out of here before we do more than break your nose. Next time, it'll be your fucking skull.”
Marty stumbles backward, then turns around and makes a hasty retreat to his car.
“I think we should go and see Jonny,” Lyka says, his voice hushed and full of suppressed anger. I can’t help but let out a nervous gulp .
Dax grins, then flexes his jaw. He reaches inside his waistband and recovers the gun. “Oh, I agree.”
They both hop into the Land Rover quickly. Dax speeds out of the parking lot, his hands grasping the wheel firmly. The vehicle falls uncomfortably silent as we speed away. My heart pounds in my chest as the adrenaline surges with Dax focusing on the road.
What are they going to do?