Chapter 35
BLADE
We step through the doorway of a large, three-story building, navigating through the halls as our footsteps tap against the polished floors.
“What’s the surprise? I’ve been waiting for hours to know!” Amelia exclaims.
“Just a few more steps,” I say, guiding her carefully with my hands covering her eyes. “Trust me, it’s worth the wait.”
We had driven for over six hours, and with each passing mile, she got more and more fidgety. I didn’t tell her any details—despite her attempts to bribe me by feeling me up through my pants—so her curiosity bubbled over the surface just as much as my excitement to finally reveal what I’d been working on.
When we reach the correct room, following the directions the coordinator gave me, I remove my hands from her eyes, letting her take in the scene. The room is bustling—models, designers, and the crew preparing for the show. Her eyes go wide as she turns to me, a smile spreading across her face. My favorite fucking sight to see.
“You got me tickets to a fashion show? Oh my God, Maison de Lumière? That is like the fashion house, world-famous, operated out of Italy. Even just one dress costs thousands!”
I almost want to facepalm. Does she think I’d drive six hours simply for tickets to a show? I mean, yeah, I probably would’ve for her… but still. “No.” I point to the dress forms in the corner. “Look over there.”
Her gaze follows my finger, and she gasps, her mouth hanging open. “What are my dresses doing here?! Is this my new workspace?”
“You must put all your brain power into fashion because you sure aren’t great at putting two and two together,” I tease.
A lightbulb goes off in her head, and her eyes light up with realization. She spins to face me, nearly toppling over, and I reach out to steady her. “Nuh-uh. You didn’t! I… I’m in the show?!”
Before I can even answer, she throws herself into my arms, wrapping them tightly around me. I can feel her infectious excitement as I gently rub her back through the hug.
“Wait…” She pulls away. “Did you force them to show my designs? Because I know you.”
I chuckle. “That does sound like something I’d do, huh?”
“Aiden!” She smacks my chest, and I relish in the sound of her saying my name. It erases all the bad memories of my mom saying it and replaces them with a sound that I’d love to hear until the day I die. “You shouldn’t have made them do that! Oh my God, I have to go apologize. They’re gonna—”
“I didn’t,” I stop her rambling. “That was a joke. I showed the coordinator some of your dresses. She loved them and said she had to show them. But just FYI, if she had said no, then I would’ve forced her.”
Her eyes sparkle and well up with tears as she kisses my cheek. “Thank you. No one has ever… done something so nice for me before. You always do these grand gestures, sometimes I feel unworthy.”
Unworthy?
She deserves everything—the moon, the stars, the entire fucking universe in the palm of her hand. For nothing more than simply existing. But since I can’t give her those, I’ll give her everything I have, my unwavering support, every beat of my heart, every part of me, hoping that’s enough for her.
I lift her chin. “And sometimes I feel unworthy to be with a kind, beautiful, perfect girl like you. So I spend my time proving that I deserve you, and if that means getting your fashion designs into a show, so be it.”
She’s about to say something when Anna, the coordinator, comes up to us with a bright smile and a clipboard. “Hello. I’ve been meaning to meet you, Amelia.” She shakes her hand, and then gives her a few papers from the clipboard.
“Nice to meet you.”
Anna and Amelia talk for a little while, and she fills Amelia in about the show. It’s set to happen here in about five weeks, with some of the best-scouted fashion designers in the country. There’ll also be plenty of talent agents, looking to sign deals with up-and-coming designers.
A minute after Anna leaves, my phone buzzes with a text, and I glance down to check it.
Anna: The payment of $200,000 has been received for your wife’s placement in the show. DO NOT file it on your taxes. Thank you.
I put my phone away and suddenly get an idea.
“You have a meeting with an executive here in—” I check my watch. “—seven minutes. Remember our game from the mall and how we postponed it?”
Amelia bites her lip, nodding. “I’ve already picked out my reward too.”
“Oh, really?” I can feel my pupils dilating. “You have seven minutes. We’ll see.”
I lead her to a nearby coat closet, the memory of that day from the mall flashing through my mind—making her come all over my fingers, covering her mouth with my hand, forcing two orgasms from her. My dick twitches at the thought, already getting hard.
The closet is dimly lit, but there’s just enough light filtering through to make out facial features and find our way around.
She wastes no time. Dropping to her knees, she pulls out my growing cock. My breath hitches as her cold hands palm my balls, making my hips jerk, but she holds me steady, her other hand pressed firmly on my thigh.
She starts slow, swirling her tongue around the tip while stroking the base. Then she gets more into it, taking me inch by inch into her wet, warm mouth. As her lips wrap around me, I tangle my fingers in her hair, gripping tighter with each passing second. Her tongue slides over the head, wicked, teasing, and the pressure of her sucking me in makes my vision blur.
Fuck.
The pleasure builds, and I can’t help the low groan that escapes. I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep quiet—if they catch us, they’d probably return the money and cancel the deal—but the intensity of her mouth makes it impossible.
She sucks my cock down her throat like her life depends on it, keeping a steady pace, bobbing her head over the entire length. Taking me all in, then going back out, and all in again.
I stumble forward, barely catching myself on the wall in front of me. She removes her mouth with a ‘pop’ sound so she can lick over my balls, spit drooling down her chin before she takes me back in.
I try to speak, to say something dirty like I usually do, but the words stick in my throat. All I can do is groan, which is getting louder as they slip through past my control. I always tease her for not being able to talk, and not being able to control her moans, and now here I am, in the same predicament.
Her mouth is like fucking sin.
She sucks faster, and I swear my legs almost topple over. If I didn’t have a grip on the wall holding me up, I’m sure they would. “Fuck, fuck. Jesus, fuck. You really know how to suck a dick, don’t you, pretty girl?” I grab her hair out of her face with one hand, holding it like a makeshift ponytail.
It’s only been two, maybe three minutes and I’m already teetering on the edge. She’s definitely going to win.
“Fuck. I’m gonna c—oh my God, I’m gonna come.” I inhale sharply, my mouth falling open as my head tilts back, eyebrows pinching with pleasure.
As soon as the words slip past my lips, she slows down, and the pressure that was once building starts to fade. “What are you—” She’s teasing, sucking lazily at the head. “K-keep going like before,” I grunt.
“You better fucking not.” My teeth grit as she pulls away completely, only licking over the tip in agonizingly slow strokes. “Amelia, I’m not fucking playing with you.”
She looks up at me with big, bright eyes, feigning innocence, even though right now she’s anything but.
“You have three seconds to—”
Before I finish the sentence, she’s back taking me fully into her mouth. My stomach clenches as the air is sucked out of me.
“Shit.” I bite my lip, a groan passing through them. Within seconds, the sensation to come returns. She must notice my dick pulsing and about to go over the edge because she slows down again. “Unh, unh. Not this time.”
I grab both sides of her head, pinning her head back against the wall, holding her still as I forcefully shove my cock back into her mouth. I thrust forward, fucking her throat roughly, her mouth nothing more than a perfect toy.
She has nowhere to go, no way to escape as I push deep, sinking my full eight inch length into her throat, all the way to the base, balls deep. In and out, again and again, at a pace so fast that tears start streaming down her face.
Finally, with a guttural half-groan, half-growl, I come down her throat. The release is intense, shattering, and I’m left gasping as I hold her head still, making sure every drop slides down her throat. Even after I’m finished, I keep my cock buried deep in her mouth, savoring the moment as I catch my breath, still riding the high.
The money I’m about to spend on her at this executive meeting in two minutes? Worth it from that blowjob alone.
Fuck.
That took a lot out of me.
I kneel down and grab her neck, kissing her. “If you wanted me to fuck your throat, all you had to do is ask. Instead of playing these games trying to get a reaction out of me. You know I’d be more than happy to give you what you want. To be treated like a dirty little slut.”
She whimpers, shuffling around on her knees, her hand reaching out to grab my cock.
“Ah, fuck. It’s still sensitive.” I place my hand over hers and pull it away. She looks up at me with those big, puppy dog eyes and my cock twitches in response. “If you want me to fuck you senseless, you’re gonna have to wait until we get home.” She whimpers again and looks down. “I know.” I place my pointer finger under her chin, tilting her head up. “But you have a meeting we have to get to, and you can’t miss it.”
Every time she gets used like a slut, even if it’s not full on-sex, it’s like she goes into a different headspace—reduced to just whimpers and pouting.
Fuck, it’s making me get hard again.
But this meeting might possibly be the most important one she will ever go to, so I have to stay strong. The meeting is an introduction to the executive I made another deal with, and it’ll catapult her career as a fashion designer. The final negotiations on the deal happens after the fashion show, to scope out the reactions on her designs first.
After the meeting, we’ll be able to make the drive back so I can fuck her brains out. And oh yeah, deal with the punk, Mr. Adams, who’s currently tied up in my basement.
···
Mr. Adams’ screams echo off the cold, concrete walls of the basement, a chilling sound that would haunt most men. But not me. I enjoy it, especially after what he did to Amelia. Just thinking about the nasty fucker’s hand on her thigh makes my blood boil. I stand over him, my knuckles bruised and raw. Just as I’m about to land another blow with the brass knuckles, my phone rings.
I figure it’s Amelia, she’s upstairs, knocked out after I fucked her to sleep. She must’ve woken up. I slap some duct tape over Mr. Adam’s mouth to muffle his screams and answer without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Hey, come over to my house.”
I do a double-take at the screen and curse under my breath. Just my fucking luck, I answered the call on my dad. I sigh, already irritated. “I’m busy.”
“This is important. Out of all the things I’ve ever asked you, this is the most important. Just come over.”
I clench my jaw, feeling a familiar surge of frustration that fights its way out every time I talk to him. “Fine.” I hang up and turn back to Mr. Adams. He’s almost bleeding out, but I’m not done with him yet. Hopefully, when I get back, he won’t have died on me already. I want to be here to see the sight of his life leave his eyes.
After washing up, I decide to let Rhett drive since I woke up early this morning to make it to the fashion show building by nine a.m. The drive to my dad’s building takes about an hour, it’s only a few streets away from John’s house. The thing I’ll hate most when I move to Sante Fe after graduation is living so close to him, knowing he’ll start calling for every little thing.
The outside of his building stands tall, at least forty floors. I brought the damn penthouse and this is the first time I’ll step foot in it. As the elevator rises, my mood dampens further. What could he possibly want now? The high-class lobby and pristine hallways scream high society, he’s here living fancy on my dime. Pretending to be one of these rich, important bastards.
The door to his penthouse is unlocked, and I step in. The inside of his unit is a big difference from the rest of the building. He’s been here for what, five months? And he’s already let this place get run down.
I walk into the dining room, following the sounds of glasses clinking. Sure enough, when I turn the corner he’s got five—not one, not two, not three, not even four, but five whiskey glasses laid out in front of him. “Fucking typical,” I mutter under my breath.
He looks up from the current drink in his hand, his eyes glassy.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice clipped.
“I guess we’re skipping the hellos. I’ll get right to it, then. Your mother is back in town.”
I stare at him, fucking incredulously. “ That is what was so important? That could’ve been a phone call!” Not that I would’ve cared, even if it were a phone call.
He takes a slow sip, eyeing me over the rim of his glass. “Well, a phone call wouldn’t have allowed this—” He turns his head and shouts, “Hey!”
A figure steps into the room. I don’t recognize her at first, how could I, but I’m smart enough to figure out she’s the woman who birthed me. My entire body tenses as I look at her. Black hair, blue-grey eyes. She looks like the older, woman version of me. And I hate that. I hate it with every fiber of my being. I don’t want any connection to her, not even looks.
Seeing her, coupled with the sight of my father downing so many drinks, stirs up memories of a childhood that I fought so hard to forget. But I refuse to let any weakness show.
So with a steady voice and no emotion on my face, I ask, “What do you guys want?”
Jackie, what I call her because I’ll be damned if I call her mom , steps forward. “I want my son.”
“I’m not your son and haven’t been since the day you left.”
“I mean my other son.”
“My brother is dead. Maybe if you’d been around any time in the last five years, you would know that.”
“I know that. I mean your other brother.”
I stiffen, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. “What other brother?”
“He was… a Serpent,” she says, her face twisting with disgust at the word. “He went missing recently. He’s your brother, your own flesh and blood, you have to help him. He left the group, but he may still be in trouble with them. I asked around, and everyone said you were the person to call for trouble with the Serpents.”
Typical.
Everyone always needs something. She didn’t come back to check on me, see how I was doing, she came back only to get something. Just like this drunk pig in front of me always does.
I look at Jackie, feeling nothing when I do, nothing but a cold emptiness. They say you always have a natural instinct to love your mother, because only you know what her heartbeat sounds like from the inside, but right now, I wish I would’ve stopped her fucking heartbeat when I was in her womb and had the chance to. “What’s his name?”
“Jacob.”
I blink uncontrollably, my vision darkening as the world seems to stop for a moment. His name echoes in my mind, and I get angry.
Not only because of what he did to Amelia—which I hope he’s rotting in hell for—but because he knew what it was like to be raised by a mother, my mother, the one who was supposed to raise me. He never had to feel the empty void inside of where a mother’s love is supposed to be.
Fragments of my childhood play like a movie in my head. Every lonely night, every drunken tirade from my dad, every moment I spent wondering where she was and why I wasn’t enough.
So she could raise a child, just not me.
I feel a bitter wave of envy wash over me, so powerful it’s almost suffocating. But then I remember—he’s dead, and I’m not, so I have no reason to sit here and think about how great his childhood must’ve been. Because he won’t have an adulthood. He won’t get to grow old and marry and have kids and a perfect house with a white picket fence. And I get to have all that. With Amelia.
Jackie continues, her voice now trembling. “I was pregnant with him when I left.”
“I don’t need his fucking life story. Why would I want to help him, when he never cared to be a part of my life as my brother?”
“He didn’t know about you, or your dad. He just found out about you guys a couple of months ago.”
So he did know I was his brother when I killed him. No wonder he went on that long speech right before I killed him.
I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. Should I tell her? I mean, why should I spare her feelings or give her hope? When she would never do the same for me? So, I don’t. “Jacob’s dead.”
Jackie’s eyes widen, as she gasps, collapsing into one of the dining chairs. Her face goes pale, hands trembling as the news sinks in.
“Dead?” She seems more confused and shocked than upset. “How?”
I shrug. “He got mixed up with the wrong people. Made some mistakes.”
Tears well up in her eyes, and she looks at me, her expression a mix of grief and desperation. “Why didn’t you save him?”
I let out a bitter laugh. Now I want to make her hurt. Now that I see the tears and know she actually cared about him. “Well, I guess he shouldn’t have messed with my wife then.”
“Wife? W-what? What does that mean? And you’re married?”
“That means, I killed him. He messed with my girl, so I gutted him like a pig. He begged for his life, so I cut his tongue out. And you’ll never find his body because I burned it.”
She stares at me, stunned. Her mouth opens and closes, struggling to find words. God, I love seeing her so upset that she can’t even form a sentence.
“He was your brother,” she finally manages, her voice breaking. “How could you?!” She looks like she’s about to be sick, and I hope she is. I hope she lies awake every night, haunted by the imagery of me hacking up her precious son.
Is it wrong to be happy seeing your mother cry? To feel a warm embrace all over telling her the details of how you killed your brother?
“You wanted to know what happened to him. Now you do. Don’t ever come to me for help again.”
I walk out of the penthouse with more questions than answers. First, how was Eli his stepbrother? How do they have a connection? Is it through Eli’s father?
Jacob went out of his way to kidnap Amelia over Eli, even knowing he wouldn’t survive it, so they must’ve been close.
My head is starting to hurt.
And I need to get to the bottom of all this.