Chapter 8
Leilani
I could strangle Jax right about now.
How dare he demand I share the worst years of my life with people I just met?
My throat closes up, so I bring the wine glass to my lips. The rim clinks against my teeth, the sharp burn sliding down my throat. It doesn’t help. Nothing will loosen the knot lodged there, but I drink anyway.
Once there’s not a drop left, I start talking, vaguely painting the picture of what Anton put me through. Very vaguely. I tell them he promised he’d keep my father safe if I agreed to go with him, but I don’t tell them what that yes cost me.
I don’t tell them about Anton’s peculiar preferences. About what he did and how he treated me. I don’t tell them I’ve been in limbo for three years, slowly losing my sanity, or that crawling out of the ditch he put me in was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“Let me get this straight,” Ryder mutters once I finish. “Anton spared your father’s life and kept you locked up until Octavius rescued you?”
“He didn’t rescue me,” I huff, glancing at my almost empty glass.
Broadway refilled it while I was talking, and if Koby doesn’t stop breathing in my direction, I’ll need the whole fucking bottle.
And a freezing cold shower.
He’s so close... smells so nice...
Cedar, leather, gunpowder, smoke, then something darker, spicier... masculinity, rough edges, and danger. It consumes my senses with every inhale, and I hate how badly I want more.
I feel the weight of him at my side, filling the space until there’s no air left for me.
Shit. Three years in isolation, with my sense of self stripped bare, and I’m latching onto the first man who doesn’t treat me like I’m some broken little thing he can order around.
That can’t be healthy.
“He took me from Anton to punish him,” I explain, my nails carving crescents into my palm. “It’s supposed to be temporary but I’m not going back there. I’d sooner slit my wrists.”
Koby shifts beside me, the tension radiating off him filling the entire living room. “What did Anton do to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“She doesn’t trust you enough,” Jax supplies, chuckling into his glass.
“It’s a miracle she escaped without much psychological damage.
Though...” He tugs his collar aside, showing off the long scratches I marked him with days ago, “...the rage outbursts are inconvenient. Still, on some level, I get it. Anton’s into some fucked-up shit. ”
My pulse hammers, embarrassment and fury colliding until I don’t know if I want to cry or push my fingers into his eye sockets. He makes me sound like some unstable little pet. Broken but amusing.
Koby bristles beside me, his fists tightening until green-blue veins pulse along his forearms.
He’s not helping. In fact, he’s making things worse with his violent protectiveness, with the mint on his warm breath ghosting along my neck, and the scent of his cologne rolling off him in fucking waves.
“Right,” Ryder says. “So Octavius uses you to keep Anton in line. With you so far. Why did he send you to Blaze?”
“He didn’t want to deal with my outbursts. Blaze tried, but he handed me over to Jax two days later.”
The man in question puffs out his chest as if surviving three weeks of my assaults makes him superior. “Now you know why she’s with me, you know I can’t let you keep her. Anton FaceTimes her every Saturday.”
“Why is he allowed to see you?” Koby asks, brushing my arm with his knuckles and sparking electricity through me.
Every time he touches me, my nervous system goes haywire, static thrumming under my skin and filling my lungs.
“To prove I’m in once piece. Safe. Untouched.” I inhale a deep breath. “Anton’s very... protective of me.”
“That’s an understatement,” Jax says. “He’s unstable. You should hear him talk to her. He’s... not all there.” He pats his head. “Had his skull cracked open a few years ago and his IQ dropped about a hundred points. He’s fucking unpredictable, so no, Leilani can’t stay here.”
“You’ll have to drag me out by my hair.”
“You can try,” Koby seethes, glaring at Jax. “But... spoiler alert: You lay a finger on her, and I’ll lay ten on you.”
“Jesus, Koby,” Broadway groans. “At least buy him dinner first.”
Koby’s eyebrows draw together, making me bite my cheek to stop the laugh climbing up my throat.
“What?” He blinks, processing his words. “Oh fuck off, that’s not what I meant!”
Carter coughs into his fist, hiding a grin. “Next time just say you’ll break his legs like a normal person.”
“Whatever,” Koby grits out, shooting Jax a death glare. “He gets the message.”
“I bet he does,” Broadway snorts. “He just might expect a safe word with it.”
Carter turns to me, his amusement fading. “You have two options. Go with Jax or stay here, but you’ll have to play by the rules.”
The wine in my stomach curdles.
Two options? That’s it? After everything, after clawing my way this far, I’m cornered again. Why is it always someone else drawing the lines I’m supposed to stay inside?
“Why can’t I leave? Just let me go. You can’t possibly think I’ll let you lock me in another fucking cage for God knows how long. I have money, I can disappear.”
“You know where the door is,” Carter clips, motioning in the correct direction, his patience running dry.
Koby sits up as if getting ready for another high-speed chase down the driveway. The move enfolds me in another cloud of his cologne and this morning plays before my eyes.
Specifically, the moment his fingers brushed my cheek when he uncovered the bruise. The way he looked at it like it was his personal failure. How my skin burned where he touched and my palms turned clammy and useless.
“If you stop showing up for the weekly calls, Anton will know you’re gone, and he’ll come looking,” Jax reasons.
“We can arrange those here.” Broadway plucks the wine glass out of my grasp and reaches for a bottle. “But you’ll have to go through with them, no excuses. If he’s half as obsessed as Jax makes out, he’ll find you. The problem doesn’t go away when you do.” He hands me back my glass, refilled.
I take a sip, ignoring Koby’s looming presence. “And you’ll make my problem go away? How? You don’t know Anton like I do. He won’t simply let me go.”
“He will when he’s dead,” Koby says.
My head whips left, eyes challenging his, hope instead of fear swelling behind my ribs. “You’d do that for me?”
“With pleasure, hellcat.”
My cheeks flush and stomach clenches like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t... Which is pretty accurate given I’m imagining climbing him like a tree and burrowing under his skin.
The same urge burst out of me when he pinned my hands to his chest earlier. The way his muscles flexed under my palms, the way he didn’t lose his cool the moment I lost mine...
I pictured him kissing me instead of holding me back. His lips crashing into mine, all fire, teeth, and passion.
I shift in my seat, thighs pressing together for a little friction because all I can think of is tearing his shirt open, clawing his back, and us burning together until there’s nothing left but sore muscles, bite marks, and broken furniture.
God, what’s wrong with me?
“Hey, you okay?” Koby leans in, the heat of him soaking through my skin.
“Yes, sorry, got lost in my head.”
“What will it be?” Carter asks. “Are you going with Jax, or—”
“No, I’m staying with Koby.”
I realize too late what I’ve said, my mouth running faster than my brain can process. I shouldn’t have let that slip out like a strike of lightning.
“I mean... if that’s okay?” Heat crawls up my neck. “I’ll try not to beat him up again.”
“Don’t try too hard.” Ryder grins. “Pretty sure he likes it.”
***
The series of unfortunate events continues as Koby places his palm on the scanner that opens the door to my newest prison.
At least I chose this one.
I’m supposed to feel wary, I think. Annoyed, scared, and angry about trading one cage for another, but a part of me—the one aching between the legs just because Koby’s standing nearby with his sleeves rolled up—is thrilled.
Maybe I’m sick. Maybe Anton broke something important in me, twisted my instincts, and now, what should terrify me thrills me instead. Or maybe this is what it feels like when your body starts to thaw after being frozen solid for so long.
Whatever the reason, I don’t mind feeling the way I do. Hot, bothered, mindless with the sensations Anton repressed. Alive.
Koby moves past me, his collar stained red from my earlier attack, and my body reacts with a fever.
Yeah, I definitely don’t mind being here.
Not just because my new roommate looks at me with dark, lustful eyes that turn my knees to jelly and send my brain into overdrive. Not just because this particular prison carries his delicious aroma, but because I hope Carter’s plan will work.
I thought running for the rest of my life, praying Anton wouldn’t find me, was my only option. But now, there’s a chance he’ll be gone for good, and I’ll sleep without fear.
My fingers drift across the hallway wall as Koby leads me deeper inside and I ground myself in the ordinary details. The hum of the air conditioning. The faint vibration of traffic from outside.
I’m safe here. That much is obvious.
Koby won’t let Anton take me. He said he wouldn’t even allow Jax to take me unless I wanted to go, and I know that extends to anyone else who might come after me.
Koby’s easy to trust. He asks questions instead of ordering me around. It’s a nice change from the mind-numbing dizziness Anton ignited and the combat mode Octavius triggered.
Blaze wasn’t bad. It surprised me that he chose human trafficking and selling girls to brothels as a career. He’s just so... soft inside. Compassionate despite his ruthless aura.
Jax, on the other hand, drove me insane from day one. He’s arrogant, cocky, and never asked.
Koby’s a different breed from all of them.
“I’ll show you your room,” he says, leading me deeper into his apartment. “Carter and Broadway will grab your stuff from Jax, but if there’s anything else you want, I’ll bring the girls over so you can tell them what you like, and they’ll be more than happy to shop for you.”
I don’t point out we could shop online. Partly because Ryder droned on about security protocols for ten minutes, so I bet he’d flag skirts, dresses, and lingerie being delivered to a bachelor pad as suspicious, and partly because I don’t have any cash, and I can already hear Ryder listing all the reasons why I shouldn’t access my bank account anytime soon.
“I’ll make do with whatever Carter gets.”
He nods, opening the door to a guest bedroom, then stops in the doorway, one shoulder propping the frame. “You hungry?”
“Starving, actually.”
“Good, so am I. What do you want?”
You.
Thank God I didn’t say that aloud.
“Something unbecoming of a lady.” I smile, suddenly elated. “Something I can eat with my fingers.”
He smirks, his face lighting up. “And to think that act you put on at Scarlett, and again this morning, almost had me fooled.”
“Almost?”
“Almost,” he echoes, and my skin flushes when his gaze drags over me. “There was something in your eyes that didn’t fit the picture... I just kept ignoring it.”
I sit on the edge of the bed, running my fingers along the comforter. “Is this the part where I apologize for conning you into rescuing me?”
“No, this is the part where I say well played.”
“Okay, so maybe it’s the part where I apologize for...” I wave my hand in his general direction, unsure how to word it properly.
Beating you up might hurt his ego.
Koby straightens, the playfulness fading into something darker. Hungrier. “If anything, I should apologize for getting off on your assault.” He smirks again, watching my lips part. “You throw a decent punch, hellcat, I’ll give you that, but with a bit of practice... you could do better.”
With that, he turns and marches down the hallway, leaving the bedroom open. I sit frozen, my thighs clenching together.
Did he just suggest I should kick his ass again?
No, surely not... I must’ve misunderstood. Anton sneered whenever I raised my voice. Octavius scowled when I pushed back. Jax barked orders like I was his pet. None of them invited my claws. None of them wanted me unruly.
Koby wouldn’t encourage a rage fit.
I’m surprised he didn’t punish me for the one I already inflicted.
There’s something seriously wrong with me because I like the idea of going at him again.
My mind spins, replaying his hard chest under my palms when he pinned me earlier, the flex of muscle under his shirt, the iron restraint in his arms. Again I wonder what his mouth would have done if I’d leaned in instead of pulling back. ..
This time I let the fantasy deepen, blurring into something reckless. I see myself thrashing against him, fists flying, and instead of shoving me away he cages me in, his mouth crushing down on mine until anger and desire melt together.
God, I’m so weird.
I bury it when Koby’s voice rings out in the kitchen. He’s on the phone, ordering a spread of food perfect for eating without cutlery. I’ll even lick my fingers.
That’s not what good, well-mannered little girls do, is it?
Good girls sit straight, use utensils, smile politely, speak only when asked. Good girls don’t clench their thighs imagining what a man’s mouth is capable of while listening to him order takeout.
Anton spent three years sculpting me to his rules. Every day, every hour, he nailed them into my skull until I believed them.
Don’t raise your voice.
Don’t disobey.
Don’t move unless you’re told.
Don’t want.
But I’m done living by those rules. I’ll lick sauce off my fingers tonight. I’ll laugh too loud, throw my head back, and let Koby see every unrefined, improper inch of me.
I might not be okay yet, but I know just the way to reclaim every bit of my old self.
If wanting Koby to pin me down and kiss me breathless is wrong, then let me be fucking wrong. If imagining his body over mine while I claw at him is twisted, then let me be twisted... because for the first time in years, my mind feels like it’s mine.