Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THEO
The blaring sound of a heavy beat thundered in the side of my head, making me wince.
I didn’t go home.
Even though I told myself I would, that I’d walk through the door and head straight to my room, and lock the world out.
Instead, I found myself exactly where I always fucking ended up—somewhere dark, somewhere drowning in smoke and sweat, with a bottle in my hand and drugs crawling under my skin like goddamn ants.
The club was a haze of red and black, the music a pulsing throb inside my skull, loud enough to rattle my bones. Bodies moved around me, faceless, meaningless, women pressed against me, their hands trailing down my chest, over my belt. I barely felt them. I barely fucking saw them.
Because I only saw her.
My fucking sister.
Her name burned through me like acid, hot, destructive, corroding every rational thought I had left. She was in my head, under my skin, in my goddamn veins. Everything I did was about her, even when I was trying to get away from her.
Especially then.
I tugged out the small bag from the pocket of my trousers and pinched it open, pouring out enough to run along the back of my thumb before I lifted it to my nose.
Your cocaine is showing, Theo.
Her fucking voice resounded inside me. I inhaled sharply taking another hit, white power burned through my throat, numbing everything except the one thing I fucking needed—her.
I didn’t want her. I fucking hated her. I hated her lies, her breath, the way she fucking existed.
And yet…she consumed me.
I was spiralling. Drowning.
The night spun sideways, colors bleeding at the edges, turning everything grey.
“Hey!” Someone yelled in my ear.
I turned my head, the ocean of people all around me nothing but a washed out haze. My pulse thundered, hard and erratic, thrumming through my skill like a war drum. The drugs were hitting harder than they should.
Fucking laced.
I knew it the second the last line burned through my system. Something else was in there, mixed with expensive cocaine. Something that made the world too bright, too loud, too fucking surreal. My fingertips tingled, my skin burned, and my head felt like it was floating three feet above my body.
But I still felt her.
A hand on my chest, small but firm, pushing, steadying.
“ Whoa , easy there, baby.”
Her voice slithered over my skin like silk, soft and syrupy sweet, but it was fake—too fake.
I blinked and tried to focus, her eyes and face nothing more than a haze.
A mask, that’s what she wore. One just like all the others.
Warmth against my chest as she pressed against me.
She smelled like cheap floral perfume and sweat, the scent clashing with the smoke and whiskey clinging to my clothes.
“You okay?” She ran her hands down my arms, her nails scraping just enough to feel deliberate. She was smiling—I could hear it in her voice, even if my vision was too fucked to focus on her face.
I blinked hard, trying to clear the static in my head, but everything lagged, the movement delayed, like I wasn’t inside my own fucking body.
She took a step closer, pressing herself into me.
“Come on, let’s get you to your car,” she murmured, like she was doing me a favor. Like she was helping.
I let her.
I let her slide under my arm, let her guide me through the jostling bodies and between the tables to the darkness and the quiet. One hard shove and the cold, night air slammed into me. Air so crisp it felt like I’d been under water this entire time. Maybe I was…maybe this was me drowning?
“Come on, baby,” she crooned, pulling me with her.
I followed, my feet moving on their own as I stepped out of the club and into the night, my legs feeling like they weren’t entirely mine. My head was a pressure cooker, the heat of the drugs pressing against the inside of my skull.
Bang .
I jerked hard with the sound of the door closing behind me. But her hands were there holding me in place as she dragged me deeper into the alley.
My vision tunneled.
I knew this game.
I knew this fucking game, and still I fucking walked into it.
Stupid fucking asshole!
“Just up here, baby,” she drawled, pulling my attention toward her.
I tried to focus on her face, tried to gather the last few fucking cells inside my brain to try and keep me alive.
The alley was quiet, too quiet.
One stumble and my back hit the rough brick wall, before I could react shadows rushed toward me. Then came their hands.
Too many hands as they searched my pockets, yanking free my wallet.
“His keys,” a man growled. “Don’t forget his keys.”
No .
I grabbed my pocket as the sound of tearing fabric came, clamping down on a hand inside it.
The first hit came fast. A fist to my ribs, hard and brutal, stealing my breath before I could even brace.
I grunted, my head snapping forward, body curling in reflex as pain splintered through my side. The fog cracked, the static buzzing in my head fading just enough to register what was happening.
A set up.
I lifted my head, the blur of the alley all too fucking real now. Two assholes stood in front of me. I winced, tried to breathe and scanned the alley. The girl was already gone.
Slap.
Something small hit the ground in the distance.
I caught a flash of her slipping past them, my cash in her hands, shoving it into her bra as she tucked the two remaining bags of cocaine in the pocket of her too-tight jeans.
Fucking bitch…
Movement came from the side, weight shifting, a fist cocked into the air. Still, I saw it far too goddamn late. His knuckles connected, sharp and heavy, snapping my head to the side. My body followed, slamming against the wall.
I unleashed a groan and spat blood, rolling my shoulders, my limbs feeling detached and foreign, like I was moving through someone else’s body.
But the pain.
The goddamn pain was all mine.
My knees trembled, the hard wall was all that kept me upright. But even that wasn’t enough at the end as my legs gave way underneath me. My palm dragged across the bricks as I slid down and hit the ground.
“Not so tough now, huh, pretty boy?”
Hard breaths came.
But so did something else.
Something that grew inside me
I lifted my head and smiled back at them. Blood-stained. Lethal.
And then I moved.
Fast .
I lunged forward, ducking with the next punch, my body reacting on pure instinct now, driving my hand down against the ground to push myself upwards.
One savage blow collided with his throat, right at the soft part above his collarbone. His eyes went wide as he choked, stumbling backwards, clawing at his neck.
You will be on your knees. Do you understand?
That fucking voice from the recording came back at me. And with came the sight of my fucking sister on her knees, looking up at him…or was she looking up at me?
“Fuck you!” I roared and made for the second guy.
I didn’t give lying a chance to run, driving my body forward and dropped my shoulder. Muscles coiled and trembled along my body as I slammed into him, driving him against that brick wall.
“Hey!” The bitch from the nightclub screamed. “You’re hurting him!”
I didn’t stop as I wrenched my arms backwards and drove it into his stomach, watching the bastard double over. Hard, retching sounds followed as I swung again, this time connecting with his face.
Crunch .
Blood came…and so did the shadows as his buddy stumbled forward. I swung around and rushed forward, driving my elbow into his face, and felt the cartilage snap under my weight. He let out a strangled yell, clutching his nose and stumbled backwards, but I wasn’t done.
I grabbed the back of his head and yanked down as I bought my knee up.
Bone met bone.
His body went limp before he even hit the ground.
The other guy was still coughing behind me as I turned around and set my sights on his once more. Somewhere in the alleyway that bitch screamed. But I didn’t care about her now as I advanced slowly, then grabbed his collar and shoved him backwards, the back of his head slamming against the wall.
“You thought this was a good idea?” My voice was low, slurred at the edges, but my grip was steady as steel.
He gagged, clawing at my arm.
I tightened my grip.
“You ever steal from me again, I’ll rip out your fucking throat.”
His eyes bulged.
I shoved harder. “Do you hear me?”
He nodded, his eyes glassy with tears.
“My keys.” I demanded.
“H-here.” The bitch from the club stammered.
I jerked my gaze toward her, watching her advance with what was left of my wallet and my keys in her hand.
I let go of the asshole, watching in the corner of my eye as he dropped like a fucking ragdoll, gasping, clutching at his throat.
I stepped over him, spitting onto the pavement before rolling my shoulders, flexing my bruised knuckles.
Pain.
Good .
I fucking needed it.
I snatched my belongings from her, glaring at the greedy fucking whore as I walked past her and headed for the street.
My body was shaking by the time I slid into the driver's seat and yanked the door closed behind me.
It was late…really fucking late.
I blinked and leaned forward, holding my ribs and started the engine. Headlights blinded me as I pulled the car out onto the street. The drive home nothing more than a neon blur. A red, pulsing haze of blood and rage and drugs.
You will be on your knees. Do you understand?
I couldn’t get that fucking video out of my head even as I pulled into my street and headed for the driveway.
A blur of movement came before headlights blinded me.
Gabe’s Jeep Wrangler shot forward, barely missing me as he took off out of the driveway.
I unleashed something unholy and wrenched the wheel to the side, narrowly missing him.
My brother’s face was barely human, filled with rage before he was gone, leaving me pulling up in the parking space he left behind.
I barely remembered getting through the door, but I was there, shoving it closed behind me, pressing my back against it as I forced myself to breathe.
The house was too fucking quiet.
Too still.
I felt it before I saw it.
Her presence.
Angelica .
A shift in the air, a pull in my gut—like she was tethered to me, and I was too far fucking gone to fight it anymore.
I didn’t even think about it.
I moved.
The hallway was dark, every creak ten times louder than it should be. A moan drifted out from my brother’s room. Soft, desperate.
“You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you, little sister?”
I froze standing outside his door, then I moved. My ribs no longer hurt. Nothing hurt because I couldn’t feel my body at all.
I slowly turned the handle of my brother’s door, breathing through the chaos inside me, through the drugs and the violence and the fucking aching need that wouldn’t die.
I pushed it open.
And stepped inside, finding my brother standing in the middle of the room with our sister in his arms dressed in nothing more than her pretty fucking lace underwear.
He said nothing, unaware I was even in the room as he wrenched her hair backwards, extending her throat.
Her body stiffened, breath catching but it wasn’t because of him. Her gaze fixed on me. Her eyes wide, too dark, reflecting the glow of moonlight through the curtains of my brother’s room.
Fear .
Not full-blown panic—not yet—but close enough.
I stepped closer.
My brother felt me now. But he didn’t turn around. Instead he let me come closer, flanking his side until I reached out, sliding my fingers through her hair and Silas let her go.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
Not really.
But I needed to see her.
Needed to remind myself that I could have her if I wanted.
Even bleeding. Even high. Even when she cowered at the sight of me and tried to pull away.
I still fucking owned her.
A slow, crooked smile curled at my lips.
“Did you miss me, Angel?”
She shivered.
And fuck, that felt better than the drugs.
Silas leaned back, those dark eyes fixed on mine. “Took you long enough, brother.”
I sucked in heavy breaths.
“I think our sister here needs a lesson on what happens when you try to leave our family, don’t you?”
I jerked my gaze to his. She ran from him? No wonder he looked unhinged. I looked back at her. “You fucking ran from us?”
Mine .
That word resounded inside me, snatching away that desperate need. The drugs weren’t helping anymore. Only the rage was there, smouldering, growing, becoming something monstrous and alive.
Angelica exhaled slowly, watching me, her wide, dark eyes reflecting the low light.
Not afraid.
Not defiant.
Just… waiting .
Waiting for me to lose it.
Waiting for me to hurt her the way she wanted to be hurt.
I clenched my fist and dragged her closer, forcing her to stumble out of my brother’s arms and slam against my chest.
I looked down at her, at the woman I tried so fucking hard to hate. Her lips parted, a shallow breath hitching in her throat, and that single sound sent a bolt of pure hunger and rage crashing through me.
Silas didn’t move.
Just watched as I leaned down and slammed my mouth on hers. I kissed her hard, making her spine bow under my need. My other hand went to her throat, grasping her jaw to hold her in place.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
Not now.
Not ever.
I lifted my head, breaking the kiss.
She gasped, her lips red and bruising.
Still it wasn’t enough.
“Get on the bed,” Silas murmured.
Fuck .
My cock grew hard as I watched her stumble backwards, then drop down hard on the edge of the bed. Silas moved to her side, looking down and trailed his fingers lightly along her arm. Something about that made the fury inside me snap.
I reached forward, gripping her chin, the red marks of my fingers still there. “Do you even know what you fucking are?” I hissed.
Her lashes fluttered. “I?—”
“You’re ours .” I tightened my grip, drinking in the way she trembled. “You belong to us .”
Silas exhaled beside me, a quiet chuckle under his breath.
I ignored him.
Because she was looking at me the way I’d imagined a thousand times.
Broken. Desperate.
And knowing this was inevitable.
She wasn’t running.
Not anymore.
I moved before I could think, lunging forward to drive her backwards on the bed. I was on top of her in an instant, her small body crushing the bedding under me. I leaned in, my mouth brushing her ear. “Tell me you don’t want this, Angelica.”
I waited.
She didn’t say a word.
I pulled back, watching her face, watching the battle, and the slow agonising fall as she lost whatever was left of herself.
Silas moved around me, climbing up onto the bed, his palm sliding under her neck to turn her head toward him. A reminder. A claim.
Angelica shuddered between us.
Her hands clenched into fists.
And still, she didn’t stop us.
Because there was nothing to stop.
I turned her face toward me again, leaning forward to brush my lips against her neck—not a kiss, just a breath, a whisper of what was about to come.
“You’re ours,” I murmured again.
And this time, she didn’t deny it.