26. Raf

CHAPTER 26

RAF

The sound of our footsteps echoes through the fourth-floor corridor of Sutton Hall as me and my boys make our way toward Ava’s dorm, my heart pounding as I flip the master key between my fingers idly. It’s a skeleton key that grants us access to every locked door on this campus, passed down between Kings, and this isn’t the first time we’ve used it to gain entry into Ava’s room.

I’m still seething after seeing that photo. Ava is mine to use and abuse, mine to destroy. Ford and Wes can have their fun with her, but only because I allow it. As soon as she walked onto this campus, she relinquished her autonomy, and her fate became mine to control. How dare she think she can openly gallivant around with some random asshole when she belongs to me ?

When I arrive at the door to her dorm room, I don’t even have to use the master key to gain access. I try the handle and it turns, the door swinging open and colliding with the wall behind it loudly. Ava is at her desk studying, Richelle kicked back on her bed reading a book. Both of their gazes pinging in my direction at the loud thump of the door hitting the drywall.

I focus in on Richelle, narrowing my eyes. “ Leave .”

She immediately scrambles off her bed, clutching her book to her chest protectively and slinking past us to exit the room. Ford snaps his teeth at her as she passes him and she flinches back with a little yelp, practically diving into the hallway. He chuckles to himself in amusement as he and Wes step inside behind me and close the door, flipping the lock into place.

Ava shoots to her feet from her desk chair, looking fucking terrified, and I take a mental picture of that expression on her face, drinking in her fear like oxygen.

“What part about belonging to us do you fail to understand?” I ask, my voice a low, menacing monotone.

She shakes her head, soft strands of chestnut hair swishing around her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I cock my head in question as I take a step toward her. “No? Maybe we should remind you, then,” I say, gesturing to Wes.

He picks up on my signal, moving toward Ava and showing her the photo on his phone screen. The color drains from her face when she sees it, but then she jerks her gaze back over to me, seemingly shoring up her confidence as she folds her arms across her chest and lifts her chin.

“So?” she asks, arching a brow.

My fists clench at my sides and I draw a deep breath in through my nose, exhaling slowly. “So, did you really think you could jump on some other dude’s cock and it’d go unpunished?” I snarl, the shadows bleeding into the edges of my vision. “You’re ours, slut. We fucking own your ass.”

Ava snorts a wry laugh, rolling her eyes. “God forbid I hang out with someone who’s actually nice, right?”

My body practically vibrates with rage in response to her smart-ass retort. I draw another deep breath, reminding myself that I’m in control here. “That’s not your choice to make,” I snap, rapidly losing my cool. “You’re Kings property. You don’t get to go around whoring yourself out to other guys on this campus.”

“Excuse you, but I can do whatever I want, with whoever I want!” Ava interrupts, suddenly finding her backbone.

I’ve gotta admit, it’s a surprise to see her this self-assured after all the work we’ve put into breaking her down thus far. Guess it only means we’ll have to work harder to get her to come to heel.

“If I want to fuck somebody else…”

“The fuck did you just say?” I cut in, taking a menacing step in her direction.

She has the good sense to slink back, whether consciously or not, but then that defiant confidence comes right back as she straightens her posture and lifts her chin.

“I said , if I want to have sex with somebody, then that’s my choice to make, not any of yours.”

My vision darkens, the shadows rushing in. “Hold her down, boys,” I command darkly.

Ava’s eyes widen in fear, but she doesn’t even have a chance to blink before Wes and Ford are on her, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her over to her bed. They toss her onto the mattress, pinning her down on either side as I approach her flailing form and kick her legs apart with a knee, planting myself between them.

“What are you doing?!” Ava shrieks, her voice shrill with panic.

I don’t give her an explanation. She doesn’t deserve one, not after stepping out with some other guy, then deliberately baiting me when she was confronted with that photo. Truthfully, she deserves far worse than what I’m about to do.

I shove her skirt up her thighs, yanking her ugly cotton panties down to expose her bare pussy. I already confirmed she’s every bit the blushing virgin she claims to be that night in the boathouse loft, but after seeing that photo and hearing her declaration that she can fuck whoever she wants, I just have to make sure. Because her virginity was supposed to be mine to take.

It has nothing to do with wanting to touch her again.

I run the tip of my index finger along her slit to part her lips, then push it inside her opening, Ava releasing a breathy gasp at the abrupt intrusion. With my eyes glued to her face, I gently move my digit, watching her expression of shame and rage as my fingertip brushes against her internal barrier.

An unexpected wave of relief washes over me at the realization that she’s still intact.

“I told you this was mine,” I growl lowly, lingering inside her for a beat longer than necessary. Her inner walls clamp down around my finger as I continue stroking, pumping in and out a few times.

Fear must turn her on, because she’s fucking soaked . My digit glides out with ease as I pull my hand back, wiping it off on the leg of my jeans. A tear slides down her temple and Ford reaches out to capture it with the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips and licking it away . Sick fuck.

“Alright, turn her over,” I sigh, resisting the urge to bring my fingers to my nose to see if her pretty little cunt smells half as good as it feels.

“What?! No!” Ava screams in objection, struggling against Ford and Wes as they attempt to flip her onto her stomach. “Raf, please! You can’t!” she begs, and I lean over her with a laugh, grabbing her by the chin and staring into her eyes.

“You think I’d actually fuck you?” I taunt, drinking in her fearful expression like an addict searching for his next hit. “You disgust me.”

“Then let me go,” she sniffles, holding my gaze steadily despite the wobble in her voice “ Please , Raf, I’ll stay out of your way. You’ll never even know I’m here. Just… let me go .”

For the briefest moment, the shadows recede, her pleading eyes cracking open something buried deep inside me. I shut it down quickly, refusing to allow myself the luxury of sympathy.

“Not until I fucking destroy you, like you destroyed me,” I snarl. “You’re our property, Ava, and I think it’s about time you got a tag of ownership so there’s no more confusion about that.”

I pull back and signal to Wes and Ford with a jerk of my chin, the two of them flipping Ava over onto her belly and holding her down. She screams and flails as I trade places with Ford, who takes his sweet ass time setting up his tattoo supplies just beyond her view. I imagine the anticipation of what we’ve got in store is eating her alive right now, but when nothing happens after a few minutes, the fight drains out of her marginally. She buries her face in the comforter, regaining control of her breathing.

When Ford flicks on his tattoo gun, however, she springs right back into panic mode, requiring considerable effort on mine and Wes’ part to keep her still. Ford huffs in annoyance as she squirms and yells like a drowned cat as he flips her skirt up, flicking me an irritated glance. He hesitates, holding the buzzing needle over her naked ass.

The man has annoying perfectionist tendencies when it comes to his art. Despite the fact that this tattoo is only intended to be a lesson for Ava and a message to any man who dares to get close to her, Ford can’t cope with his work being sloppy.

Reaching for Ava’s face, I grab her chin in a hand and roughly turn her head to look at me, those wide brown eyes locking with mine. “Unless you want Wes to shut you up by stuffing his cock in your mouth, you’ll relax and let Ford work,” I growl, my harsh tone brokering no room for argument.

“It’s just a tattoo, Ava,” Wes adds, a little too gently for my liking. “Calm the fuck down.”

She sinks her teeth into her quivering lower lip, and I see the look of resignation cross her face as she finally stops struggling and allows her body to go slack against the mattress. I let go of her chin, giving Ford a nod, and she turns her head to bury her face in the comforter again.

While she flinches the first few times the tattoo needle makes contact with her skin, she’s remarkably compliant for the duration of her branding. She’s so still, in fact, that if it wasn’t for the muffled sound of her little whimpered sobs every few minutes, I’d wonder if she fell asleep.

Ford takes his time with the tattoo, brow furrowed in concentration and his tongue idly rubbing the corner of his lips as he works. It’s an expression I’ve seen on him countless times as he’s inked my own skin; completely focused and in the zone. When he finally announces that he’s finished, Wes and I eagerly lean over to get a good look at the tag on Ava’s left ass cheek, satisfaction spearing through me at the brand of ownership.

Ford affixes a bandage over top of the tattoo, then taps her opposite ass cheek with an open palm. “All done, babe,” he announces.

She lifts her head, eyes red-rimmed and face splotchy. She slowly pushes up and twists into a seated position on the bed, wincing when she puts weight on her left side.

“Leave that bandage on overnight,” Ford instructs as he starts cleaning up his equipment. “You’ll want to clean it twice a day with soap and water, and keep it lubed up with lotion for the first few days so it doesn’t scab. Unscented, none of that frilly girly shit.”

Ava just stares at him numbly, her eyes vacant.

“One more thing,” I add, shifting her attention from Ford to me. “We need the name of the guy you were with.”

Life bleeds back into her expression instantly. She shakes her head, eyes widening in a mix of fear and fury. “No, leave him out of this!”

“Why, wanna protect your boyfriend?” Wes sneers. I swear I detect a thread of jealousy in his tone, arching a curious brow his way.

“He’s just a friend!” Ava defends, holding up her hands in surrender.

“Yeah right,” I scoff. “You expect me to believe that after your whole ‘I can fuck whoever I want’ tirade?”

She whips her head around to glare at me. “It’s true, we’re just friends, I swear.”

“Mhmm, not gonna work,” Ford hums, still busy tidying up his tattoo supplies. “You’re not allowed to be friends with anyone who wants to stick their dick in you.”

“He doesn’t!” Ava insists desperately. “He’s gay!”

Well shit, that’s a twist I didn’t see coming.

I furrow my brow as I glance over at Wes, his gray eyes suddenly bright with realization. There are only a few openly gay guys on campus, so if what she’s saying is true, it narrows down the pool of suspects considerably.

“Wait, is it Bryce Hamilton?” Wes asks, swiping a hand over his chin.

The name sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it.

“Like I said, we’re just friends,” Ava repeats, wincing as she shifts her weight on the bed, trying to take pressure off the tender skin bearing fresh ink. “Please don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything wrong…”

Ford, Wes, and I exchange glances, engaging in a silent conversation through the looks we throw at one another. Deciding we can discuss how to handle that piece of this puzzle privately, I tip my head toward the door, indicating, and both of my friends nod in response.

“We’ll see you in the morning, Ava baby,” Ford remarks gleefully, still riding the high of releasing his inner demons through his art. He’s said before that the ritual of tattooing is cathartic to him, and from the way it dulls his psychotic tendencies, I believe it.

“Bright and early,” Wes adds with a wink.

Ava only frowns in response, watching after the three of us as we start making our way toward the door. I’m the first to reach it, and I don’t bother glancing back as I pull it open to leave, satisfied that the lesson we came to deliver has sunk in. Stepping out into the hallway, I find Richelle waiting there, sitting on the floor against the wall opposite her shared room with Ava. She glances up at me as I exit, lowering her book in front of her.

I know the resentful look in her eyes all too well. I just give her a curt nod before turning to head down the hallway, smirking to myself. Richelle may hate us, but she’ll keep our secrets so long as we keep hers. She’s just another puppet like the rest of them, pissed off that the Kings are pulling their strings.

As the three of us re-enter our fifth-floor apartment, an odd sense of calm washes over me. The guys were right– torturing Ava has proven to be a satisfying outlet for my pent-up rage. I normally only get this kind of peace after a fight. The shadows are blissfully at bay.

Kicking off my boots, I lazily stride across the living room toward the bar, glancing back at my friends. “Drink?”

They both murmur in agreement, but then my phone vibrates in my pocket with an incoming call, prompting me to pause and pull it out. I’m shocked as shit when I find my dad’s name on the screen, immediately mashing the answer call button and bringing the phone up to my ear.

“About fuckin’ time you called me back,” I growl down the line, not bothering to fake pleasantries with the bastard.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” he snaps gruffly. “Is Ava safe?”

“ That’s why you’re calling?” I snarl, my grip around my phone tightening as darkness bleeds into the edges of my vision. “Where the fuck are you, Gideon?”

“I’ll be back soon.”

My heart stutters a beat. “Does that mean you recovered the shipment?” I ask, flickering a glance toward Wes and Ford.

Their eyes widen simultaneously, the two of them looking at each other, then back to me.

Impossible.

“Not yet, but I will,” he grumbles, the strain in his tone betraying his agitation. “In the meantime, I worked out a deal, but I need you to keep Ava close until I can get back there in a few weeks.”

“And why the fuck would I do that?” I scoff.

“Other than because I said to?” he sighs, the question obviously rhetorical. “Given your feelings about Daphne, I thought you might need a little incentive, so I had Daniel move some things around.”

My blood runs cold. “You didn’t…”

“Keep her safe , Raf,” he reiterates sternly. “As soon as I get back and see that she is, I’ll take her off your hands and everything will go back to normal.”

“Like hell it will,” I spit. “What does–”

“Gotta run,” Gideon mumbles, cutting me off mid-sentence. “I’ll be in touch.”

The line abruptly goes dead and I lower my phone from my ear, glaring down at the screen.

“What’s going on?” Wes asks hesitantly, edging closer.

I ignore him, turning to Ford instead. “Have there been any changes to Gideon’s accounts?”

He makes a beeline for his bedroom, calling back to me over his shoulder. “I’ll check, but there hasn’t been anything in weeks.”

A sick feeling of foreboding curls in my gut as I follow him into his hellhole of a room, carefully stepping over the dirty laundry strewn across the floor. Ford sweeps an arm across his desk to clear the clutter from the surface– only adding to the mess on his floor– and drops into his desk chair, clicking the mouse to wake up his computer. Wes appears in the doorway, keeping his distance as I stand over Ford’s shoulder. I watch him enter some passwords and click around through a bunch of windows, then he hisses in a breath through his teeth.

“Shit,” Ford whispers. “Your old man’s been busy.”

“Tell me,” I demand, hands curling into fists at my sides.

He glances up at me over his shoulder, wincing. “I will, but… you’re not gonna like it.”

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