11. Ember #3
“I started searching for the woman who birthed me.” His words are barely audible. “I don’t know what I was looking for. A better parent, perhaps. One who didn’t hurt me quite as much.”
“Did you find her?”
“No.” The denial is strained, hesitant. “Just whispers of a young girl he purchased then left pregnant. Once she birthed his heir, he sent her back to her masters. I don’t know if she survived.”
Horror holds me hostage. For all those years he spent under his father’s thumb, Blaine refused to dabble in the skin trade. Little did anyone know, it was because his own mother was a victim.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He looks down at our entwined hands. “Why stay after that?”
The memory of his marked body flashes through my mind. Years’ worth of abuse and torture. There’s no way I’m questioning his choices. He’s a survivor too.
“If I left the family business, no one would’ve stopped my father. I had to work from the inside to keep trafficking off our books… Though I failed at that too.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Blaine.”
“Tell that to all the women and girls he’s hurt on my watch.”
“He was hurting you too,” I say gently.
“I was weak. I failed to stop him.”
“You did the best you could.”
“It wasn’t good enough,” he snaps.
“You’re talking to someone who willingly fought for her captors pretty much on a daily basis for six years. Did that make me weak or a failure?”
“No!” Blaine turns to hit me with a glare. “Of course not.”
“Then extend yourself the same grace. You survived hell.”
“You don’t understand. It’s different.”
“How?” I take in a deep breath, hoping it will ease the pain drilling into my skull.
“I wasn’t a prisoner.”
“He beat you? Tortured you? Made you do things against your will?”
Blaine doesn’t immediately reply, uncertainty dancing in the sapphire flecks deepening the cavernous fissures in his eyes. I’m going to split them wide fucking open. Enough is enough. Now that I’ve glimpsed the real Blaine Madden, I want to pull that broken child into the light.
“Whatever you’re getting at…”
“He carved you up like meat and burned your skin when you disappointed him. Do you hear how that sounds? And you want to tell me you weren’t a prisoner too?”
“I had the chance to leave.” His tongue flicks out to nudge his lip piercing.
“So do plenty of victims.”
“Not like this. I lived a comfortable lifestyle.”
“Control isn’t always cages and shackles. It can be silent. Sometimes near invisible. No one sees it or hears it, but the hand on your neck is still there.”
“I helped him!” Blaine raises his voice. “I didn’t know about it, but I still helped. I protected him. The family business . He hurt people just like he hurt my mother… all while I kept his assets safe.”
Twisting on the floor is difficult, but I wrangle my exhausted limbs enough to face him. Blaine’s eyes dart away until I catch his stubble-smattered cheeks in my hands, forcing him to look at me.
“It isn’t your fault, Blaine Madden. You’re a crook, a criminal, and quite frankly, a psychopath at the best of times, but you are not a bad person. I won’t hear it.”
“Sweetheart—”
“No. If you want to help us catch these monsters, then do it for the right reasons. Not to punish yourself for the sins of your father.”
“I need to make it right,” he insists.
“Why?” I stare deep into his irises.
“Because… Fuck, Ember.” He halts to drag in a breath. “I want forgiveness, alright?”
Behind bruised skin and battered ribs, my aching heart cracks clean down the middle. A sheer fracture that sweeps me into an avalanche. This is the person no one else sees. The human behind the criminal mastermind.
He’s punishing himself.
Blaine just wants the world’s forgiveness.
“Then I’ll help you find it, but not because you need it.” I rest my forehead on his, needing to feel him close. “Please hear me, Blaine. You’re already forgiven.”
Darkness swirls in his gaze. Powerful. Intense. A violent promise tainted by the most innocent and childlike of needs. We all want to cleanse ourselves of our parents’ sins one way or another. Despite how destructive that quest might be.
No matter what Hyland says, I refuse to believe that Blaine is all bad. He may disregard the law like it only applies to mere mortals and won’t ever touch him, but I don’t care. I don’t want or need a law-abiding wallflower.
I want a monster.
A powerful force of nature.
The mutual understanding that passes between us feels electric. A magnetic force lassoing us both in the same knot, drawing our bodies together. Common sense nor reason can stop me from leaning into his orbit.
Heat pulses between my legs when his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. The air grows thin as Blaine wraps me in a fragrant bergamot haze, and one hand lowers to clasp my thigh.
“What are you doing to me?” he murmurs throatily.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t play dumb. Three men are vying for your affections. Is that not enough for you?”
Lie. Run. Do anything.
“No,” I confess instead.
“Good. Then I don’t need to apologise for this.”
His mouth ensnares mine, hot and heady. Lips smack, and his piercing adds to the overwhelming sensations the kiss unravels. Blaine’s other hand cups the back of my head, tilting my neck so he can ravage my mouth with the ferocity of his hard kiss.
He swallows my gasp, tongue sliding past my lips to launch an invasion. The faint taste of coffee mixes with a fresh spearmint hit, drugging my senses. I place a hand on his bicep, fingers curling around soft cotton, needing something to hold me steady.
Blaine Madden, notorious mobster and heir to a prolific criminal dynasty, is kissing the motherfucking life out of me. And hell if it doesn’t feel good to surrender what’s left of my soul to this monster.
Fingertips move against my skull, easing knots and aches from the attack that drew him to me like a moth to a flame. The feel of his attacking lips shoves out any remaining doubt or fear. All that matters is every last place his skin touches mine.
My thighs push together, seeking relief from the tendrils of arousal that ignite my core. His fingers grip me tightly, delivering a bolt of pain that I’ll happily accept.
I want him like I want all of them. Regardless of greed or consequence, our paths are intertwined, and Blaine’s brand of broken belongs with us. He needs us. And I think I may just need him too.
Gripping his firm bicep, I deepen the kiss. Taking control of the frenzied tempo only drives me to demand more. He groans into my mouth, letting me take what I want, allowing me the control I crave to hold over this formidable man.
Not even the sound of thudding steps can pull my mouth from his. I’m lost in the sensation of teeth nipping my lips, his hot tongue winding with mine, the hand skating down my spine… until it’s all ripped away.
“Motherfucker!”
Blaine’s body is wrenched from mine, half-tossed across the bathroom by an angry blur. I blink past the lusty haze that’s descended over me, gawping at Warner holding his newest teammate by the throat.
“You dare touch her!”
“Warner!” I yell, attempting to stand and failing. “Stop!”
“Stay out of this, Ember!”
“She wanted me to,” Blaine wheezes.
“I’m going to kill you, Madden. Ember is off-limits. You’ve crossed a line.”
“Hey!” I try again to pull myself up.
Tearing his gaze from Blaine’s flushed face, Warner grimaces at me. “I said stay out of it!”
“Put him down. He wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want him to.”
Warner recoils like he’s been slapped. “You kissed him?”
“I kissed her,” Blaine corrects unhelpfully.
“We kissed each other,” I supply.
“Enough!” Warner has turned an alarming shade of pink. “You were warned. Ember isn’t yours to touch and still you decided that rule doesn’t apply to you.”
“I can make my own decisions!” I jab an angry finger at him.
“You want to kiss this son of a bitch?”
“Maybe I do!”
Wrong answer.
Not even my startled shout can stop Warner’s fist from sailing directly into Blaine’s face, causing bone to crack and sending blood everywhere. Over and over. All while I’m powerless to intervene, held hostage by warring loyalties.
They tear into each other.
Viciously. Violently.
And it’s all because of me.