35. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Rayne
Knox gently kisses my temple, his lips lingering against my skin. "You know I hated that name," he says softly. "It was my father's name, and I was never going to keep it after what he did."
The weight of unspoken history hangs heavy between us. I remember him as a young boy with haunted eyes, bruises hidden beneath too-large clothes. How we bonded over lost mothers to violent fathers. I remember whispered promises in the dark, dreams of a better life. And I remember the day he disappeared, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in my chest.
Knox's arms tighten around me, as if he can sense the direction of my thoughts. "I'm sorry," he murmurs against my hair. "I'm sorry I left you behind. I didn’t want to, but they wouldn’t let me stay. I tried."
I turn in his arms, facing him directly instead of through the mirror's reflection. His eyes are dark with regret and something deeper, more intense. "Knox," I breathe, reaching up to cup his stubbled jaw.
He catches my hand and presses a fervent kiss to my palm. "I did what I had to, to protect you," he rumbles, lips brushing my skin before he moves his hands to my hips. "I overheard that boy saying things, vile things he planned to do to you. I couldn't let that happen, no matter what."
A frown creases my brow as my mind rushes to make sense of his words. What boy? What is he talking about? Sensing my confusion, Knox's expression tightens, a muscle ticking in his chiseled jaw.
"You don't remember him," he states flatly. It's not a question. "He was one of the older kids at the home. Always lurking in corners, watching you with eyes that made my skin crawl." Knox's hands flex against my hips, fingers digging in almost painfully. "I overheard him telling his buddies exactly what he wanted to do to you once you turned thirteen. The things he described..." He shakes his head, jaw clenched so tightly I fear he might crack a tooth.
Bile rises in my throat as the implication of his words sinks in. A nameless, faceless threat from my past, one I have no recollection of. But Knox remembers.
"I couldn't let that happen to you," Knox rumbles, his voice vibrating with barely contained fury. "Even back then, I knew that you were mine, something inside me just...snapped."
He draws in a ragged breath, the tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief. "I waited until after lights out, when the halls were deserted. When he came sneaking out of his room, I was ready. I attacked him from behind, slamming his head into the wall until he crumpled to the floor."
Knox's eyes burn with an intensity that I can feel deep in my soul. "I just kept hitting him, over and over, until my knuckles were raw and bloody. All I could think about was protecting you, keeping that monster away from you at all costs."
His hands flex, fingers curling as if remembering the feel of flesh yielding beneath his knuckles. "By the time the night staff pulled me off him, that piece of shit was barely conscious. He could barely move, let alone touch you. You thankfully slept through the whole thing, even back then you were a heavy sleeper."
"Of course, when the staff found out why I did it, they just shuffled us off to new foster homes," Knox continues bitterly. "They put that sick fuck with a whole new crop of little girls to terrorize. I couldn't let him hurt you or anyone else ever again. So I waited until he recovered from that first beating before taking him by surprise when he was alone. He was the first person I killed, to protect you and other girls like you."
My heart is pounding in my chest. A part of me should be horrified by his admission, but a darker part is captivated and aroused by this glimpse into Knox's uncompromising nature when it comes to defending what's his.
River steps up behind me, his solid chest pressing against my back as his arms snake around my waist. "You aren’t even shocked, gorgeous," he purrs in my ear, his breath hot on my skin. "You know there's an edge to us, a darkness that draws you in like a moth to a flame."
His tongue traces the delicate shell of my ear, and I whimper softly at the erotic sensation. "Knox didn't do it alone, you know," River continues in that low, wicked tone. "I was in that home they transferred him to and I could sense it in him—that willingness to go to any lengths to protect what's precious to him. It sang to the darkest parts of my soul."
One of River's hands slides up to caress the curve of my breast, his thumb brushing over my hardened nipple through the thin fabric of my dress. His other hand threads through my hair, twirling the strands around his fingers, tugging gently. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he speaks in a low, seductive rasp. "Your soul sings the same dark song as ours, little Rayne. I see it in your eyes—that flash of desire whenever we speak about getting a little...messy."
His tongue darts out, tracing the whorled ridges of my ear in a maddeningly slow circle. I shudder against him, my core clenching with need. "You're not horrified, are you?" he murmurs, his breath hot on my sensitized skin. "That we were willing to kill, even back then. That darkness within us, that capacity for violence—it doesn't repulse you. It excites you."
Another whimper escapes my parted lips as River's teeth graze my earlobe with delicious pressure and he tugs on my hair again. "I know it wouldn't matter who we killed," he whispers darkly. "Like that man in the alleyway that thought he could touch what didn’t belong to him. I could see it in your eyes—watching me kill him, watching the life drain from his body...it didn't horrify you. It turned you on."
His words send a molten wave of arousal crashing through me. He's right—none of this repulses me. Quite the opposite. My soul resonates with that same primal darkness, that willingness to do whatever it takes.
River's hand tightens in my hair, tugging my head back to expose the long column of my throat. Knox shifts closer, the heat of his body searing me even through the thin fabric of my dress. His lips brush against my bared neck, teeth grazing my thundering pulse.
"You're ours, Rayne," Knox growls against my skin. "Your soul, your body, your very existence—it all belongs to us and always has. We'll worship every inch of you, cherish you in a way no one else ever could."
Knox's hand slides possessively down my body as he steps away, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. I lean back into River's solid embrace, seeking solace from the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. His arms tighten around my waist, anchoring me.
An alert chimes loudly from my computer, the unexpected sound making me jump. I nearly groan at the interruption, desperate to remain lost in this heated moment with Knox and River. Their touches, their words—they've unraveled me in the most delicious way.
I try to step out from between them, to deal with whatever message or notification has intruded on our moment. But River merely tightens his grip, refusing to let me go. His lips trail scorching kisses down the side of my neck as he murmurs, "Ignore it. Nothing is more important than this. Than us."
Knox, however, moves towards my computer with a predatory grace. He leans over the desk, fingers flying across the keyboard and mouse. There's a slight furrow in his brow as he navigates to the source of the alert.
It doesn't concern me much at first—I assume it's simply an automated news alert about the ongoing serial killer case. Those pop up frequently in the corner of my screen, whenever it’s mentioned in any news.
The sound of Knox's sharp inhale cuts through the sensual haze clouding my mind. Instantly, I'm on high alert, adrenaline spiking through my veins.
"What is it?" I ask, trying to move around River to get a better view of the computer screen. But he holds me firmly in place, his arms like steel bands around my waist.
Knox doesn't answer right away. His jaw is clenched so tightly I fear he might crack a tooth. The tendons in his neck stand out in harsh relief as his eyes rapidly scan whatever he's seeing on the display.
Then, with a harsh exhale, he spins the monitor around so I can see.
My breath catches in my throat as I take in the image filling the screen. It's one of the photos from the session with Knox and River—the three of us tangled together in the throes of passion. Sweat-slicked limbs, expressions of rapturous pleasure, the evidence of our joining glistening between our bodies. It's an incredibly private, deeply intimate moment, captured forever in vivid digital detail.
Except it's not just the image itself that has dread coiling in the pit of my stomach. Scrawled across it in jagged, angry red text are the words: YOU'RE MINE. THEY ARE ALREADY DEAD, THEY JUST DON’T KNOW IT YET.
A choked sound escapes my lips as the weight of the threat sinks in. This psychopath, this deranged stalker, has somehow gained access to files that were stored on my secure drive.
Knox's jaw tightens as he stares at the vile message scrawled across one of our most intimate moments. A muscle ticks in his chiseled jaw, betraying the barely leashed fury simmering beneath his controlled exterior.
With a harsh exhale, he pulls his phone from his pocket, thumbs flying across the screen. A look of grim determination settles over his features as he raises the device to his ear.
"It's me," he growls into the phone, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the tense air of the studio. "We have a situation. I need you to trace an email address for me, now."
A pause, during which I can almost picture the person on the other end scrambling to comply with Knox's terse demand. His free hand clenches into a white-knuckled fist at his side, tendons standing out in stark relief.
Knox's voice drops lower, a hint of exasperation creeping in. "No, I can't give you direct access to the computer or the email itself. We just need you to trace who the account belongs to." He pauses, listening to the response on the other end.
"Yes, I know it's not as simple as it sounds," Knox growls, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes flick to me for a moment before returning to the screen. "Look, I don't care what methods you have to use. Legal, illegal, borderline–I don't give a fuck. Just get me a name or an address."
There's another pause as Knox listens, his jaw clenching tighter with each passing second. "No, I'm not going to tell you why it's so urgent. But I promise this one's worth your while. It's... personal."
Suddenly, his expression shifts, a hint of amusement breaking through the tension. "Oh, don't give me that bullshit. You love a challenge." He chuckles, the sound low and rich. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a delicate flower who needs constant praise and validation."
Despite the gravity of the situation, I feel a sharp pang of jealousy. Who is this person on the other end of the line that can make Knox laugh so easily in the midst of such a tense moment?
"Don't get your panties in a twist, gorgeous," River purrs, his lips brushing my sensitized skin. "That's just Zeke, our off-the-books IT contact. Useful for situations like this where we need to keep things...discreet."
His tongue darts out, tracing the delicate shell of my ear in a slow, maddening circle. "You know Knox would never look at another woman, right? Not when he's got you—a delicious little morsel to devour whenever he pleases."
Knox hums for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listens intently to the person on the other end of the line. "Thank you," he says finally, his voice low and gravelly. "I owe you one." With that, he ends the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket with a smooth, practiced motion.
Both River and I watch intently as Knox stalks towards us, his movements fluid and predatory. Each step is measured, purposeful, like a lion approaching its prey. The air around him seems to crackle with tension and barely leashed energy.
When he reaches us, Knox cradles my face in his large, warm hands. His calloused palms are rough against my skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his touch. He leans in, capturing my lips in a slow, deep kiss that makes my toes curl and my heart race. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, demanding entry, and I yield to him willingly, melting into his embrace.
The kiss is thorough, almost possessive, as if Knox is trying to imprint himself on every part of me. When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless, my lips tingling and my head spinning.
"Stay here," Knox murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. His eyes bore into mine. "Stay safe. We don't know what this psychopath is capable of."
I feel River's arms loosen around me, his warmth retreating as he prepares to step away. But Knox's hand shoots out, gripping River's wrist with a force that makes the tendons in his arm stand out in stark relief.
"No," Knox growls, his gaze flicking to River. "You stay here too. Keep her safe."
River nods, a silent understanding passing between them. His arms encircle me once more, pulling me back against the solid warmth of his chest.
“When I get back, we are going to discuss the consequences of breaching the NDA you signed.” My jaw drops as Knox turns, his movements fluid and purposeful as he strides towards the door. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows catches on his crisp white shirt, highlighting the play of muscles beneath the fabric as he moves.
A part of me wants to call out, to beg him to stay. The thought of him out there, potentially in harm's way, makes my heart clench painfully. But before I can voice my concerns, River gently turns me in his arms, drawing my attention back to him.
His blue eyes capture mine, a mix of mischief and concern swirling in their depths. "Now, little Rayne, back to you doubting our love of your smoking hot body," he says, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Is that why you didn't eat the cupcake I gave you?"