Soul Of A Villain (Savage World)
Prologue
I’m the villain. And this is my fairy tale.
O liver Benedict Winter
The incessant buzz in his pocket was annoying as fuck.
Oliver dug out his cell phone, glancing at the screen. The number was one he immediately recognized but hesitated to answer. He wasn’t really in the mood to speak with his half-brother. Not that it mattered. Kingston Winter was a persistent asshole. Persistent and stubborn.
He’ll just keep calling. Might as well get it over with.
Steeling himself, he clicked the call open. “Yeah?”
“It’s me. Where are you?”
Oliver sighed. “In a limo.”
Kingston did not say anything for a moment. There was rustling on the other end of the line. A woman’s soft voice and Kingston’s murmured reply. He waited in silence until his brother’s attention swung back to him.
“In a limo? Where are you going?”
Oliver’s laugh was exasperated. “On my way to Diamond Lake Ranch, if you must know, big brother. Don’t worry; I did all my chores before heading out for some fun.”
“I know you finished the job,” Kingston huffed. “When I didn’t hear from you, I got worried.”
“Aww. That’s sweet,” Oliver said, sipping the scotch he’d poured from the limo’s bar.
“It was a hazardous assignment. You can’t blame me for making sure you are still alive.”
A pang of guilt assailed Oliver. Although he’d spent nearly a year away from New York and their family stronghold, The Den, he and Kingston kept in regular contact. There were jobs to be done and assignments to be completed. These phone calls were unavoidable, and Oliver experienced a strange pleasure in them. It wasn’t too long ago that any interaction with his brother was something he dodged whenever possible.
“Sorry, King,” he breathed. “Guess I should have touched base.”
Kingston cleared his throat. “So, you’re going to Diamond Lake?”
Oliver settled back against the leather seat. “Yeah. Got an invite and thought I’d visit while I’m in Colorado.”
“Be careful, O,” Kingston said. Oliver could almost see his brother’s concerned frown through the phone connection. “They’ve been delving deep into the darker side of auctions. Dangerous shit. And since Ava…well, that’s something I have no interest in. I can’t condone it anymore.” The unspoken insinuation was that Oliver should distance himself from such activities if he wished to remain in Kingston’s good graces. “Besides, I can hardly believe you are welcome there after you backtracked on your deal.”
A twinge of unease assailed Oliver. Fuck. He didn’t need the subtle reminder of when he tried to sell Kingston’s fiancée through the same organization.
“Just using their facilities, King. Nothing more than that.”
“Understood. But still, be careful, will ya?” Kingston laughed softly. “Anyway, on a more personal note. Are you coming home for the wedding?”
Oliver’s stomach clenched. Kingston and Ava’s wedding was two months away. And he still hadn’t decided whether he could face either one of them.
“Ava and I both want you here, Oliver,” Kingston said, intuitively understanding the reason for Oliver’s silence. “Don’t you think it’s time to put the past behind us?”
Letting out an inaudible sigh, Oliver said nothing. It was impossible to explain simply how he’d changed and yet stayed the same over the past year. He was still a bad guy. He still murdered people. Still treated women like objects. Still selfishly took what he wanted and cheated when necessary. Juxtaposing those attributes with scarce moments of contrition was difficult. And confusing. And a fucking waste of time to try and understand.
“I don’t know if I can. Or if I should. You know me, Kingston... I’ll find a way to ruin things. It’s in my nature, and you damn well know that is the truth. Hell, didn’t they teach you at your fancy college that my middle name means betrayal?”
“Look. You’re my brother. We’ve spent the past year hashing this shit out. If I can move past it, you can, too.” Kingston’s voice contained the stubborn tone Oliver knew all too well. “It’s time to put your nightmares to rest like I have. You think it can’t be done, but you’re wrong. Ava has forgiven you. I’ve forgiven you. Come home, O. Let us show you how different life can be.”
“It’s all moonlight and roses for you, Kingston.” A thread of resentment laced Oliver’s words. “You have Ava. She loves you. I’m just the sadistic asshole who terrorized her every chance I got. The brother who was waiting and hoping for the opportunity to put a bullet between your eyes. You know, you can try turning a wolf into a pet. You can keep it in a nice cage. Love it. Feed it. Even train it to do some tricks. But it’s still a wolf. Eventually, it does what centuries of ingrained instinct tell it to. And it ends up ripping you to pieces.” Oliver sighed heavily. “That’s the truth of it, man. I can’t be trusted. Or hell, even liked.”
“That’s bullshit. You use that excuse as a way of keeping everything buried deep. It shields you from facing the reality that the real monster was our father. It masks the pain of losing your mother in such a horrific way. I get it, Oliver. I carry my own guilt, too, for my actions when we were growing up and what happened with Rebecca. They must be faced head-on. You must trust me on this. Come back for the wedding, O. Let’s work things out together. It’s not too late to be a real family.”
“I’ll try, King,” Oliver finally acceded with a growl of defeat. Kingston’s use of the affectionate nickname he’d given him during childhood was a low blow. A sledgehammer reminding Oliver of the times his brother protected him. It also brought up shared nightmares of a shitty childhood with a sadistic father. It was almost more than Oliver could stand. It made something burn deep inside him. A hatred once reserved for his older half-brother but now—more often than not—turned inward. “Really, Kingston. I’ll try to make it.”
“I hope so. We’ll talk again soon and finalize our plans. Until then, be safe, brother.”
Oliver ended the call, poured another finger of scotch, and tossed it back with a grimace.
Hate was a funny thing.
After living with it for so long, its absence proved disconcerting.
Oh, he still hated, of course. Burned with it, actually. Loathing for his deceased father. Hatred for his enemies. Disgust for liars. But the overwhelming emotion once harbored toward his half-brother had melted during the months roaming the country.
Love had worked some crazy magic on Kingston. His happiness and that of his bride-to-be were evident in the photos Oliver saw splashed across social media and paparazzi outlets. The two of them fucking glowed with adoration despite the brutal violence coloring the beginning of their love story.
But even as his hate for Kingston had dissipated, Oliver still suffered from jealousy. There were moments when he craved the same peace and contentment his brother had found with Ava. It hit him the hardest during those intermittent phone calls with Kingston. The five-minute conversations existed as reminders that his brother cared for him. Worried about him. There was no mistake that Kingston and Ava wanted him home so the tattered relationship could be mended for good.
Oliver wanted that, too. Sometimes. But the blackness inside him inevitably snuffed out any glimmers of light. The promise of happiness was not meant for a man like himself—a coldhearted monster who once negotiated the sale of the woman his brother desperately loved. It did not matter that Oliver killed his partners in the illicit deal following an unexpected change of heart. It did not matter that he saved Ava’s life for Kingston’s sake. Even if he no longer hated his brother, darkness still poisoned his soul. Kingston and Ava might have forgiven him, but it didn’t fucking matter. How could it when forgiving himself for what he had become over the years was impossible?
The truth was simple. Whatever drops of humanity he managed to squeeze out would not change a damn thing. His heart was twisted and black. It would be that way until the day he took his last breath. And he would pay for his many sins during an eternity in Hell’s deepest pit.
There was little hope of salvation for the soul of a villain.