Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
ANGELICA
Gabe pulled me through the house, his grip too tight, too desperate, too much. My skin burned where Silas’ had touched me, and I wanted to scream—wanted to tear myself open to get rid of the feeling.
But I didn’t.
I let him drag me because I didn’t trust my own legs to move. Silas had broken something inside me, and now I didn’t know how to exist without him holding me in place.
Gabe’s bedroom door was thrown open and I was shoved inside.
“I can’t fucking believe this!” He roared and shoved the door closed with a boom!
I jerked with the sound, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling the coldness of my own skin as he started to pace.
“What the fuck was that, Angel? What did he do to you?”
My lips parted, but no words came.
I could still feel Silas. The heat of his thigh between my legs, the punishing grip of his hands. The way he dragged me over him until pleasure and ruin blurred into one.
And I’d let him.
My body responding in ways that both sickened and filled me with desire. Shame slithered through me, wrapping tight around my ribs to steal my breath.
I wanted it.
Even as I fought, even as I said no—my body craved him. His hands, his cruelty…his cock. I swallowed hard, my own desire still roaring inside me.
I needed it eased, anyway I could. I just wanted this torture to be over.
“Angel.”
Gabe looked at me like I was something he could put back together. Like I wasn’t already shattered.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded.
I shook my head. I couldn’t.
I didn’t have words for the filth coating my skin, for the way my thighs still clenched like they missed Silas’s grip.
For the way I ached.
I just wanted it gone.
I wanted it erased.
I stared at Gabe, at the warmth in his golden-brown eyes, the softness of his hands as he reached for me. I looked down to those long fingers and the way he touched me so tenderly, the total opposite to his brother.
He wasn’t like Silas.
He wasn’t cruel.
He wasn’t a monster.
And that was the problem.
My mind drifted to Penn, to the way he barely had enough courage to hold my hand in public, even after a year of dating me. Even then when he did clutch my fingers it was only because his friends laughed and made fun of him.
But I wanted something else now.
Something darker.
Something worse .
I was ruined because of it.
But maybe…maybe if I focused on Gabe I’d get rid of it. Maybe if I clung to him like a life raft I could somehow wash some of this darkness away?
I lifted my gaze, then stepped closer, reaching for him before I stopped myself.
Gabe sucked in a sharp breath as my hands curled into his shirt. “Angel?—”
I rose up on my feet, the warmth of his body against the coldness of mine was so entrancing.
I kissed him.
He froze against me, trapped between hesitation and hunger. But I needed this. Needed him to touch me, to make me feel different.
So I kissed him harder.
A low groan vibrated in Gabe’s chest before his lips parted, giving in. His hands moved to cup my face, his touch so different from what I was used to. He kissed me like he’d been waiting forever.
I let him.
Let my fingers slide into his hair, let my body press against his, let his warmth seep into my frozen skin. His hands moved down, fingertips grazing my waist, hesitating. Like he was afraid to ruin me. Like he didn’t already know I was beyond saving.
I shivered as his mouth trailed lower, brushing against my throat, soft and gentle—reverent.
“Angel,” he murmured my name against my skin, like I was something precious.
Something worth loving.
His hands splayed across my hips, pulling me closer.
And suddenly—I couldn’t breathe.
I froze.
The hands weren’t his anymore. They were cold, rough, brutal.
A gun pressed to my lips.
You’re owned.
That hateful voice whispered in my head.
NO !
I shoved him away so hard he stumbled.
“Angel, what?—?”
I barely heard him.
Instead, I clawed at my own skin, raking my nails along my arms and lifted my hand, unleashing a blow against my cheek.
Slap!
Gabe’s eyes widened, staring at me with a look of horror. Still, I couldn’t stop the pain. It cut through me like a blade.
I couldn’t breathe. I felt hands everywhere, too many hands, too many voices, too many fucking orders?—
You are owned.
The words wrapped around my throat like a noose. I gasped, staggering backwards, my nails digging into my arms until the sting was all I felt.
Look at the screen, Angel.
That sick goddamn voice filled my head.
No. No, no, no.
I was back there.
In that same goddamn room at The Order.
Back in his hands.
My body wasn’t mine.
It never had been.
“Angel?” Gabe sounded terrified now, stepping closer, reaching for me like he could somehow fix what’d been broken in me for years.
I recoiled.
“I’m poison,” I choked out. “I ruin everything .”
His expression cracked. There was a shake of his head. Still, those beautiful, sorrowful eyes held me transfixed and I knew I caused it.
I caused his pain and his torment.
If I could’ve only just died.
If I could’ve only had the strength to turn that gun on myself, then none of this would’ve happened.
I stepped backwards, my gaze moving to the door.
“Please, Angel. Stay .”
I didn’t let him finish. Instead I lunged for the door, yanked it open and stumbled out.
Darkness closed in around me. Cold, pressed in, leaving me shivering. I didn’t know where I was going. All I knew was I needed out.
I sprinted down the hall, feet bare, breath ragged, head pounding with commands that weren’t mine.
CONTROL.
SUBMISSION.
OWNED.
My vision blurred. My steps faltered. I wasn’t in the house anymore.
I was at The Order.
Look at the screen. That vile voice whispered. Look how fucking perfect you are when I fuck you.
A cry ripped free as I ran, tearing around the corner. My body moved on its own. My mind screamed at me to go to my room, to lock myself away, but that wasn’t the command I was following.
Instead, I stopped outside his door, watching the lights from inside spill under the door.
Silas.
He was the one I needed. The only one who could keep the beast inside my head at bay. The one who was even more savage than the monster who controlled my mind. Only this time…I wanted it.
I lifted my shaking hand.
But I didn’t even have to knock.
The door swung open.
Silas stood there, still shirtless, the glow from his bedside lamp making shadows dance across the hard ridges of his stomach and the lines of his arms.
His dark hazel eyes devoured me.
I was a mess. Barefoot, breathless, still trembling. I wanted to run, but I knew I couldn’t. Not from him. Not anymore.
His lips curled into a slow, victorious smirk.
I opened my mouth but only two words came out.
“Help me.”
The smirk deepened as he stepped closer, gripping my chin, forcing my gaze to his. His fingers were warm, rough, possessive.
“I knew you’d come,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.
His thumb skimmed my lower lip, slow and deliberate. Teasing.
My whole body went tight.
I hated how easily he pulled these reactions from me. How easily he controlled me. His thumb dragged lower, pressing against my pulse, feeling how wildly it beat for him.
I should’ve run.
I should’ve shoved him away, but instead I leaned in.
And Silas’s smile deepened. Because he knew.
He had me.
And I wasn’t going anywhere.