The Heir She Loved (Shadows of Sin #4)

4 Olivia

June 22nd, 2022

I grunted when Everett helped me up, my back and ankle burning painfully.

He didn’t say a word as he led me to the living room where the man was now tied to a chair, mask gone, Evelyn searching the house for an entry point.

He helped me to the couch, Lucy taking her place directly beside my legs, her unblinking eyes trained on the male before us. I was so glad I opted for a house with hardwood floors, although the rug would have to be replaced.

“Back door is unlocked,”

Evelyn said, walking in. “It was picked.”

I knew I locked everything up, that asshole.

“He say anything?”

she asked as she headed for the kitchen, Everett slowly circling him.

“’Get the damn dog off me’,”

I quoted evenly, watching him watch me. “Nothing else.”

His stare was unflinching, his jaw tight, but I had learned from the best, and while my glare might not be as terrifying as Everett, if I could glare at him knowing what he could do to me, I could certainly glare at this man tied down in my living room.

Everett stopped behind him, his eyes finding mine.

I had checked Lucy thoroughly before I allowed him to help me up. She was okay. Some deep bruises, but it didn’t feel like anything was fractured or broken. She would be okay in a day or two. Physically. We would both physically be okay in a day or two.

“This is your one chance,”

Everett’s eyes seemed to say.

But I remained where I was. Not because I was too bruised and broken to stand, but because I wanted to see what he did. I wanted to see the truth. This man hurt my fucking dog. He got into my house. He attacked me. For what? What was the reason? I needed to know. I had to hear it from him. I had to hear him say it.

Evelyn walked back in with a tray filled with different kitchen items. Forks, knives, spoons, the hammer, a pair of pliers, and a bowl. “We’ll replace whatever we use,”

she gave me a warm smile and a soft wink.

She set the tray down on my coffee table and picked up the small pair of pliers, meeting the man’s eyes. “These have always been my favorite,”

she told him. “We’re not in the business of beating around the bush. You know what I want, so I’m just going to jump right into this. Until you decide to give me something that’s worth enough for me to stop, I will keep having my fun.”

She snapped the pliers together, her smile growing brighter when he didn’t respond. “Great.”

Without missing a beat, she grabbed his left hand, still bleeding from the bullet wound, strapped down to the arm of the chair, and grabbed the edge of his index fingernail with the end of the pliers.

It took several seconds for her to tear it up and off his hand, the sound louder than the gunshot to my ears.

I shivered. It was definitely different hearing it than it was writing about it, but it was still no less impressive.

The man snarled, and in response, Lucy snapped, immediately silencing him.

He glared at the dog as Evelyn moved onto the next nail, and the next, dropping them to the ground each time, the sound grating against my ears. Fuck, that was something I’d have to get used to, I guess.

When all ten of his nails were on my floor, Everett was clearly getting irritated. “Get the alcohol,”

he told Evelyn. “And a rag.”

She nodded, but rather than setting the needle-nose pliers down, she lifted them up and slammed them straight into his thigh.

He cried out, and I found myself glancing towards the door as Lucy lunged at him, barking and snarling, but never getting within a foot of him. Not unless I ordered it.

“The house has been sound-proofed,”

Everett told me, pulling my attention back. “You looked at a few places, this was the one you’d most likely choose, so we took the time to sound-proof it before you moved in.”

My brows furrowed. “How did you have the time?”

“We have people,”

he answered as Evelyn walked back in with a bottle of my expensive scotch. “Why did you think the house smelled so unlived in?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line, but didn’t say anything. Dick move, but I appreciated it.

Evelyn handed the bottle and washcloth to Everett before stepping back, allowing me full view of what was about to happen. He popped the cork and, after a moment of consideration, he shoved it deep into the bullet wound in his left hand.

Since the cork was wider than the hole, it took some effort to shove it all the way through, and the guy was doing his best to hold back the screams while Lucy continued to threaten him, but the tears were clear.

Even grown men could be pushed to the point of tears if one were creative enough.

When the cork got caught up on something, bone I assume, Everett picked up the hammer and gave it one good whack!

The man cried out, fighting against the restraints only for Evelyn to grab his face and force it back. Everett exchanged the hammer for the rag and walked up behind him, meticulously putting the cloth over his nose and mouth.

My heart thudded painfully as Evelyn took the edges of the cloth and pinned it to his face, keeping his head tilted back at a near painful angle.

Everett tipped the bottle, soaking the cloth, and the man started gargling and coughing, fighting against the restraints, Lucy constantly snarling.

He poured and poured and poured until the bottle was half empty. Finally, he jerked the cloth off, and Evelyn stepped back, the man coughing and hacking, gasping for air he didn’t have a second before as the sputters of alcohol burst from his face, making the room smell like a bar fight.

I found myself sitting up, wincing at the pain in my body, but hardly feeling it at all at the same time.

They gave him all of ten seconds before they did it again, emptying the bottle over that rag, forcing him to feel like he was drowning, the sounds mixing with Lucy’s snarling.

I had done my fair share of research when it came to different kinds of torture, different ways to kill people. I had spent years studying serial killers in order to write accurate books. Waterboarding, while already incredibly painful, had to be so much worse with alcohol. I couldn’t even imagine what that felt like.

But he deserved it.

When the bottle was empty, Evelyn ripped the cloth away while Everett shattered the bottle on the back of his chair and slammed the broken end of it straight into his shoulder, not giving the man even a second to consider giving them what they wanted.

He cried out, blood spilling from his shoulder, my cunt throbbing as I watched Everett step in front of him and grab his face, jerking the pliers out only to shove them into his arm. He fisted his hand and slammed it into the man’s face, the sound warming my skin. Shattering bones and splattering blood.

He hit him again, my breathing picking up.

And again.

Fuck, the pure power behind his swings, the way his body moved, the way his knuckles cracked against the man’s skull.

“Everett,”

Evelyn warned.

Everett stopped, his breathing slightly labored, the man rasping, blood dripping from multiple places. It looked like Everett had broken his nose, his cheekbone, a few teeth possibly.

His own knuckles were bloody, the anger rolling off of him in waves. “Your loyalty is misguided,”

Everett told him, turning to the tray Evelyn had put on the coffee table.

“I could say the same of yours,”

the man finally said, his voice thick with blood, the Russian accent clear. His eyes found mine. “You should have done your research before letting them fuck you like a whore.”

I hardened my eyes. “I gave my soul willingly. My eyes were as clear as my mind.”

“Then you are just as dumb as they are,”

he spat as Everett stepped up behind him again, spoon in his hand.

His eyes found mine and, without letting another second pass, he wrapped a hand around the man’s throat and pinned him to his chest.

I watched with parted lips and a slamming heart as Everett went for his eye, the man screaming, kicking, thrashing, the sound of the spoon digging into his eye socket meeting my ears.

Everett looked so…calm about it. As if he were simply interrogating the guy. His teeth weren’t clenched, there was no uncontrolled rage in his eyes. He looked right at home.

Fuck me. I felt my thighs tighten, my fingers digging into them, a sweat breaking across my skin. This was sick. This was twisted. This was—

Everett’s eyes flicked to mine and his motions slowed. He looked me over slowly before turning back to the man and finally popping the eye out.

It fell over the side of his face, still connected by the optic nerve.

The man was whimpering, pulling at his restrains, his wrists bleeding.

Everett shifted and went for the other one—

“Okay!”

the man cried out, my racing heart falling at his concession.

Everett paused, glancing to me, the spoon still poised above the man’s eyes.

Goddammit, I wanted him to keep going. I needed him to keep going.

But Everett straightened and ran his hand back through his hair, trying to put it back into place, only for it to fall into his eyes again, blood splattered across his mask, his lips, his eyes. God, he was beautiful.

The man was struggling to breathe, and I half wondered if he thought Everett was going to let him go after this.

“It wasn’t difficult,”

he confessed, his voice thick, his eye lifting to Everett’s. “Agreeing to go after you wasn’t difficult,”

he went on. “He made a request, and we agreed. Weaken the sons, weaken the Kingdom. He’s coming after you with everything he has and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

Everett pulled his gun out and slid it deep into the man’s mouth, his eyes wild. “The Delepski’s should have taken the hint.”

And he pulled the trigger.

I released a breath, taking in the splatter of skull and brain matter all over my curtains and wall.

Fuck, I needed therapy. Although I didn’t think I’d have the guts to tell her how wet I became watching a masked man spray a Russian man’s brains all across my living room walls.

Lucy flinched back from the noise before shaking herself out and walking up to the man’s leg. She sank her teeth into his undamaged leg for a second before stepping back and turning to me. She limped over, her ears still back, and nudged my hand a little, her eyes slowly going back to the normal, kind, soft eyes I loved so much.

I gently scratched her neck, my own eyes lifting to Everett, Evelyn pulling out her phone. He walked over without a word, and carefully slid his arms under my knees and around my back, easily picking me up.

I fell into him, the smell of pine, light rain, and copper filling my nose. My eyes lifted to his neck, watching his pulse beat steadily beneath his blood splattered skin.

I studied it for a long time before I slowly, hesitantly, closed the distance between my mouth and his skin.

I felt his hands tighten around me as soon as my lips brushed by his neck, my own eyes falling shut at the feeling of it. Warm, alive. So much power. Fuck, he was held so much power.

I kissed him again, just under his jaw, listening to his breath catch as I kissed him again and again, and then finally grazed my teeth along his skin, biting down, pulling—

“No,”

I heard him say, causing my stomach to hollow out.

I leaned back, my eyes lifting to his. Unreadable. My heart skipped a beat as I fell back into his arms, slowly falling into some sort of state where everything felt numb and overly exposed at the same time.

I was aware and unaware. Feeling everywhere he touched me and nothing at all. He said no for a reason, a good one, I knew that, I did, but I wish he hadn’t.

I could hear Lucy padding behind us as he carried me back down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. He walked me over to the bed and carefully sat me down, pulling my dress up to my hips at the same time.

I winced when my spine went to curve, forcing myself to sit straight up as he crouched down in front of me and took my chin in his bloodied hand, his knuckles covered in blood, already bruising.

“You said nobody could know,”

I wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn’t find my lips.

“There are cameras everywhere but in these two spare rooms,”

he said as if hearing my thoughts, his eyes searching mine carefully. “We need to talk about what just happened before anything else.”

But I didn’t feel like talking.

I wanted to hug him. To let him fuck me until I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t think my body could take that. Besides, Everett Kingsmen, Adler, whatever his last name was, he didn’t seem like the hugging type.

I couldn’t remember the last time I was hugged though. The last time I was held. Really held. No fucking, no expectations, just…just held.

I blinked slowly.

His hand fell from my chin, and he leaned back on his heels, trailing his hand gently down my right leg until the warmth of it around my tender ankle caused me to hiss.

My eyes found his just as his lifted to mine. They had softened. Those chilling, icy eyes had softened.

I swallowed back the tears, working my jaw. I was fine. I was perfectly fine. He had to know that, right?

He searched my eyes for a moment before returning his attention back to my ankle and very gently lifting it up. “It’s different, you know,”

he spoke softly. “The bruises I leave, and the ones forced upon you. It’s different.”

I knew that. Why was he saying that? I already knew it. I knew it, yet his words seemed to make the burning in the back of my throat grow which was stupid because I knew the difference, I did.

He placed his hand flat against the bottom of my foot and pushed my foot back, forcing my ankle to flex.

I swallowed against the gasp this time, staring at his hands as they forced my ankle to move.

No. I would not cry. I would not allow him, this…this…monster of a man, to see me cry after one attack. Not after what happened in the woods. I was fine. I was stronger than that.

When he decided that my ankle was fine, he lowered it to the ground and stood. “Arms up,”

he instructed.

I did as he said, wincing at the pain of the movements. It was all starting to burn now. Everything. My ribs, my leg, my back. My entire body. I felt as if I had been put through a tornado, and I barely got hurt at all.

He easily lifted the dress up and over my head, tossing it to the floor. He leaned forward, running his fingers carefully along my ribs, pushing lightly on each one, the tears filling my eyes. “Not broken,”

he told me.

I knew that. I had broken a rib once. When I was a kid. Falling from a tree I wasn’t supposed to climb anyway, I had deserved that break, I knew that, but I was reassured that he saw the same thing.

No breaks.

Bruises healed quicker than anything else. It would hurt to walk, to breathe, to do anything really, for a while, but not too long. Just a couple of weeks. I’d be fine in time for the signing event.

He then sat right beside me, my breath catching when his leg pressed against mine. He leaned back and ran his fingers gently along my spine, sending goosebumps across my skin. Good ones, this time. Not ones off fear and panic, but ones of need.

Everett straightened, his arm pressing into mine, my nipples hardened due to the chill in the room. “You read the letter.”

“You’re acting soft,”

I retorted quickly, staring at that door. I needed a fight. I couldn’t have sex, and I couldn’t handle the pity, I needed something else, and all I had was that overbearing anger that lived within me like an ember waiting for some gasoline.

I needed gasoline.

“Olivia—”

“You wouldn’t treat Evelyn like this,”

I said tightly. “What? You gave me a letter and now you’re going to reveal that you’re actually a troubled poet with a tragic past who loves fucking croissants and stupid little one sip cups of espresso? Give me a break,”

I muttered, clenching my hands above my knees. He told me no for a reason, and now I was reverting. My one second of bravado, brought on by splattering brains on my walls, and now? Now all I wanted was to punch him for being so goddamn soft.

I couldn’t be soft, so he wasn’t allowed to be soft either.

He was quiet, and in his silence, I felt my tears fill my eyes again. Burn and flood and close my throat. I swallowed, working my jaw, angling my head away from him so he wouldn’t see it. He couldn’t take it back, that much was clear, but what he could do was grow tired of my overreactive emotions and put a bullet in my head because I couldn’t control my emotions in his world. Because I was hyphy and dramatic and I didn’t smile enough.

I saw his hand out of the corner of my eye. It was lifted, coming near me, hesitating only to move closer and hesitate again.

I sniffed, glaring at it, forcing my head further away from him so I couldn’t see him at all. This was stupid. So I was attacked? So what? It happened to them every day. I could handle it. I would handle it. I was going to—

His fingers grazed over my jaw, and I inhaled sharply, in too much shock to keep him from turning my head back towards him.

I blinked and felt the tears stream down my face, his eyes warm, struggling, his mask gone, his lips tight.

My breathing picked up as he lifted his hand from my jaw and gently flicked the hair from my eyes, pushing it softly behind my ear, his eyes tracking his own hand as he did it. It was as if the motion were unfamiliar to him, which I suppose it was, but it also seemed as if he were wondering if he was even doing it right. As if he knew it was what I needed, but he was…nervous.

Just at the thought, more tears spilled. He was doing it for me. He was doing it because he knew I needed it, despite the fact that it was unfamiliar and uncomfortable for him.

His fingers lingered along the shell of my ear, something like fear in his eyes, hatred, anger, confusion, shame. I knew all of it. I felt all of it too. “Lie to me,”

he told me carefully, his eyes taking in my entire face.

I swallowed, finding it harder and harder to breathe the longer he stared at me like that. “I’m fine,”

I said through my teeth.

He nodded as if he knew. “Again.”

I inhaled, shaking my head, working my jaw. “I’m fine, Everett, I’m fine,”

I whispered. “I’m okay.”

His throat bobbed and a muscle in his jaw feathered as his eyes finally met mine. “I’m learning,”

he told me softly. “You have to let me learn.”

I inhaled sharply again, tears blurring the world, a sob catching in my throat. I gasped and shook my head, the tears spilling down my face as the events of the evening swept over me in waves. Lucy could have died. She was hurt because of me. A man snuck into my house and could have killed me, and had I not had a gun, had he killed Lucy, I would have died too.

I dug my nails into my chest as I gripped my hand into a fist, my breathing labored. I took a few gasping breaths, trying one last time to control myself only for the flood gates to rupture.

I leaned over myself, gasping, the pain only pushing the tears and sobs to come faster as I covered my face with my hands.

I heard Lucy get up, felt her fur press against my leg a moment later, her warm tongue licking my thigh, and then I felt Everett’s arm wrap around me, hesitant but there. He pulled me into him slowly, until my head found his chest, his hands warm and sure as he held me against him.

I broke down in his arms, shaking and crying, the cracking sobs only causing the pain in my back to flare. Lucy could have died. I could have died. A man broke into my house, got into my room, and could have killed me with such ease. All because I had been distracted with that letter. So caught up in it, I hadn’t paid attention to anything. That couldn’t happen again. I wouldn’t allow it.

“He almost killed my dog,”

I managed to get out when the choking sobs calmed down enough.

He carefully rubbed my back. “I would have helped you burn the world down if that had happened,”

he said quietly.

I clutched into his tie, his shirt, letting the tears fall, letting him try and comfort me in the best way he knew how.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there before my tears finally slowed, before the exhaustion settled in my bones, and I had thoroughly doused him in tears and snot, but I finally, slowly, pushed myself up, wincing and hissing at the pain it caused, using his clothes as a crutch to pull myself up to a sit.

My hand found Lucy’s head as she rested it on my thigh, her fur still covered in blood that was now dried. I wiped my face, sniffing, searching her eyes. She was okay, she was safe. “She’s mine,”

I finally said, my voice thick with tears. “I got her when I first moved here. The first thing that was ever solely mine. Not something mom could use against me or something Steven had gotten for me to manipulate my mind. Just mine, and all I did for all these years was force her to watch me suffer. I trained her to fight, and I made her suffer. She’s angry. I made her angry. I caused this to happen. I broke her.”

Everett was quiet for a long time before he finally spoke again, his voice almost raspy, as if he had been the one crying instead of me. “She’s angry because you didn’t let her save you.”

“I didn’t need saving,”

I said, irritation sliding into my voice as my eyes found his. “I don’t need saving.”

His eyes fell to my lips, the shake of his head almost imperceptible. “No, you don’t…”

his eyes lifted back to mine. “But she doesn’t know that. She runs on instinct, and you are her pack. Her only pack. Her pack was in danger, Olivia, and she fell back on the only thing she knew; protect the pack.”

I inhaled sharply at his words, new tears falling as my eyes found hers. Protect the pack.

She was covered in blood, her bright blue eyes watching me from beyond the gore, filled with light, her tongue hanging from her mouth, her ears perked.

Protect the pack.

He went quiet again, and after a few seconds, my eyes were drawn back to his, the light of the moon the only thing filling the dark room. “You read the letter,”

he said as soon as my eyes found his.

I nodded, wiping my hand under my nose. “Every word.”

He cocked his head to the side softly, his eyes furrowing just a hair, as if he were trying to see if I was lying this time or not. As if he couldn’t quite believe I would do something like that. “You understand the rules then. What’s required of you going forward.”

I nodded, unintentionally rolling my eyes. “Yeah, and I expect the gun to the head very soon.”

His eyes flamed in anger, in rage, his hand finding my throat in less than a second only to loosen to a softer grip. “Already planning on betraying us, little writer?”

he hummed, his normal demeanor back. Chilling and threatening. Angry. His instinct. To protect his pack.

It was something I shouldn’t have said whether I meant it or not. A family like this, the loyalty in their blood. Even suggesting a betrayal wasn’t something to fuck with, and rationally, I knew that. But I was so tired. I didn’t have it in me to pretend, to bite back my words, to do anything but just…be.

My legs tightened, and my hand wrapped around his wrist involuntarily. “I suspect you didn’t expect me to be such a crybaby.”

He snarled softly, baring his teeth, his canines a little sharper than the rest of his teeth, his hand flexing around my throat again only to soften as if he were barely holding onto his control. “I knew what you were a long time ago, Olivia. As I said yesterday, I am very aware of what I have done. I don’t regret my decisions, not unless you make me.”

“One sob too many—”

He squeezed his hand, cutting off my air. “Betray me.”

I swallowed against his palm, the leather of the collar digging into my neck. “Never,”

I rasped, feeling the wetness grow between my thighs.

He leaned in until his nose grazed mine, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. “Then we won’t have a problem,”

he hummed, the words falling right onto my lips.

I whimpered, my other hand sliding over his thigh, my nails digging into his pants. “Everett,”

I sighed, finding his eyes.

His pupils dilated, his grip tightening. “I am not gentle.”

I didn’t care. I doubt I would ever regret a second with him, no matter how painful. “Then shatter me,”

I mumbled, feeling the ghost of his lips graze mine as my fingers slid over his rock-hard cock.

My mind flooded with what he had done to that man. How powerful he had been. The unnamed leader of The Family, that’s how I saw him. I didn’t need to meet any of his other brothers. I didn’t need to watch Malachi work. There was just something about him, that death aura perhaps, that made a person want to obey, that made people turn their heads.

He walked into the room, and everyone looked, not out of plain fear, but something much deeper, something primal.

And I wanted to taste it. I wanted that power to swallow me whole. I wanted the entire world to know that I was his. I was untouchable. But with it came a cost. I was also coveted. Something that could be used against him, just like the other Claims. It also came with a kind of power nobody else in this world would ever have.

I could order him around. I had him at my disposal. I was the Queen on his chessboard, and nobody could take that away from me.

I wrapped my hand as best I could around his cock, squeezing, feeling his mouth go slack, his ragged air mingling with mine. “Please,” I begged.

A knock sounded at the door and Lucy immediately started snarling, every hair on end, her ears pinned to her skull.

Everett’s breathing was labored, and he moved back just enough to look me in the eyes. “Better off. I think I might have killed you tonight if we fucked like this.”

He released me. “What?”

he snarled thickly.

I released a breath, rubbing my throat gently and removing my other hand from his cock just as the door opened.

Evelyn walked in, shutting it behind her, Lucy’s snarling easing a bit when she saw who it was. “Damn, I miss that body,”

she hummed, taking me in.

Everett growled a warning. “What do you want, Evie?”

he asked, ripping the blanket from the bed and throwing it over me.

She released her bottom lip and found his eyes. “Clean-up crew will be here in a few, fair warning, and I told Malachi you two came in here because you had to inspect the ‘merchandise’, sorry,”

she threw at me, “without being watched, but you have to be careful about that if you want to keep it a secret.”

I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, my cheeks warming. “Fine,”

Everett replied, standing. “She’s been briefed on what it means, she’s been looked over. Nothing but bruises, she’ll be fine.”

And hearing him say that just eased my soul a little more. I would be fine. I would be. I had to be. “I don’t want to stay here alone tonight,”

I confessed, my eyes falling to Lucy. “Lucy’s hurt,”

I explained, scratching her ear. “And she’s not going to take kindly to those people being in her house.”

Evelyn walked over and crouched down in front of me, her brown eyes as warm and soothing as ever. “It’s a three-bedroom, baby girl. We’re not going anywhere tonight. You’ll sleep here, okay? Everett will sleep in your room just across the hall, and I’ll sleep in the other bedroom, okay? You’ll have privacy in here, and if they send anyone else after you, they’ll be shocked at what they find.”

I felt my eyes burn and I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat. “Okay,”

I whispered. “Thank you.”

She nodded, patting my leg as she stood. “We’ll go out and wait for the crew, you and Lucy get some rest. Tomorrow can be bath day for everyone. Communal,”

she beamed, giving me a wink. “We’ll all have a bit of—”

“Get out,”

Everett bit.

Evelyn chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Boys ruin everything.”

She blew me a kiss and headed back out the door.

Everett grabbed it just before it shut and found my eyes again. It looked like he wanted to say something, something important. Something that might change the way things were, only to think better of it a second later, his expression hardening.

He shut the door tightly, leaving Lucy and I alone in the room. I pulled the blanket closer and scratched her head. “Okay then,”

I breathed out, feeling the tears burn my eyes again. I forced a smile across my lips, trying to reassure her. “We’re going to be okay, you and me, hmm?”

She sucked her pink tongue in and huffed, her ears on a swivel now, her muscles still tense.

She wouldn’t sleep tonight. Not with so much going on in this house, but I hoped she knew that Everett and Evelyn were a part of our pack now, and they would protect us too. Just like she did.

I leaned in, pressing my forehead against hers, solid and warm, unwavering. “Thank you,”

I whispered, digging my nails into her fur, my voice thick with love and tears. “Thank you for saving me, Lucy.”