Chapter 5 Kaios
Three weeks. It's been three weeks since Jaxon told me about this case, and since the first night in Solis Manor—home of my most perplexing obsession, I haven’t been able to shake her from my mind.
When I can’t cope, I leave. That’s what I do.
When I can’t shut my mind off, I need space to breathe. And it sure as shit needs to be in a place that’s as far away from Los Angeles as possible.
I thought about taking the Jet, but that would be far too dramatic for my brothers not to notice, and I don’t want to talk about my feelings. I want to be alone.
So, I settled for as far and as fast as my car would go. I was highway to highway for an hour straight, contemplating life —or her. But I told my brothers I was on a hunting trip to get away, per usual.
This is crazy. She’s just another woman, another case.
I do my job, and I don’t get involved. I’m in and out before anyone can pinpoint what’s changed. Or notice that they were under 24/7 surveillance.
One day, one night. That’s usually all the prep time I need. It took a few jobs for me to perfect my methods, and I was scared shitless the first time, but Jaxon said he saw something in me. Something I’d never bothered to give a second thought.
I’m good at not being seen.
I’d been doing it my whole life. When you’ve been doing it that long, it becomes second nature. In a crowded room, people forget I’m even there if I want them to.
“Very invaluable for matters of defense,” was how Jaxon worded it. You’d think someone with my height and build would take up too much space to disappear. But growing up, it was either that or meet the business end of my governess’s strap.
I scrub one palm over the overgrown stubble on my chin. It’s unlike me to let it get this bad, but she has taken up all my free time. She’s a distraction.
'Just fuck her. Trust me, you’ll feel better,’ Cain taunts. Ryzen licks his chops in agreement, and Vael acquiesces begrudgingly, if only to shut Cain up. Three against one; that hardly seems fair.
I slam the door to The Abyss, but because he’s an asshole, Cain kicks it, sending pain flaring through my skull. ‘Bitch,’ he spits.
I groan. Keeping my eyes on the road, I root through the duffle bag on the passenger seat for the small bottle of Ibuprofen. I knew that was going to come in handy for this trip.
Popping the top, I toss four in my mouth just as a fresh headache begins to bloom in my frontal lobe. Cain is a little shit when he doesn’t get his way. The motherfucker wreaks havoc on my body when he’s sex deprived, and he’s been dried out past his breaking point.
Man, woman, he doesn’t give a fuck just as long as his dick is getting sucked. Or mine, rather. Sharing a body with three demons hadn’t been the most sound idea. But what can I say, I was young, dumb, and impressionable.
I usually let them out once a month to blow off steam to keep me from being flayed from the inside out—by these three, hellish beings. But we’ve gotten off schedule this month, and there’s no way I would let them near her.
Especially not after last time. The fucker had extended my tongue so far up some poor girl’s cunt, I could taste blood for weeks.
I had to pull the emergency brake on our agreement, but by the time I took control again, the damage was already done.
Cain had sported a big Cheshire grin for the next two months. And the girl, she hadn’t made it.
That is why I can never let them out around Naomi. The images he projects, just behind my eyes, every time I’m within ten feet of her, are enough to make a serial killer blush.
I can feel his lust start to boil my blood, literally. “If you kill me, you go back to The Underworld.” I grit through my teeth, pain sizzling through my veins.
The searing agony fades, but he kicks the door again for good measure, almost blinding me. The car swerves, but I catch it just in time, as the driver in the right lane on the opposite side blares their horn.
“That's what I thought.” I take the next exit and pull into a 7/11 to get some coffee for the long drive ahead.
The phone lights up again, and Jaxon’s name glares at me for the sixth time tonight. I sigh, letting it ring, but he doesn’t hang up. He’s always been a persistent fuck.
“What?” I finally answer, barely holding back a growl.
“Need you at the Solis Manor tonight,” he says, all authority and zero patience. No room for argument, straight to the point.
Unluckily for him, I’m immune to dictator bullshit.
I roll my eyes. “Not happening, King. I’m halfway to the middle of nowhere, exactly where I plan to be for the next three days.”
“Oh, I’m aware. But one of the cameras is out,” he says, sharp as a knife. “I need it fixed before I meet with them tomorrow.”
Well, fuck. Isn’t this just what I need?
“Fucking perfect,” I mutter under my breath, not even bothering to hide my annoyance. “And why exactly can’t someone else handle this? I’d rather play in rush hour traffic than deal with this tonight.”
Jaxon sighs, a little edge creeping into his voice. “You know why. Don’t make me spell it out.”
I clench my jaw, knowing that if I don’t get off this phone soon, I’m going to lose it. “Fine. But I’m in and out, you hear me? No distractions, no lingering. Get in, get it done, then I’m gone.”
“Sure, Mouse,” Jaxon says, I can hear the smirk in his voice that grates on my last nerve. “You’ll be in and out in no time, right?”
I hang up, already regretting every bit of this as I whip the car around.
But like it or not, it looks like I’m headed towards Solis Manor anyway, a place I’ve avoided for good reason.
There’s a pull there I’d rather pretend doesn’t exist, something I’m not interested in facing, not yet, maybe not ever.
Either way, I’m heading back in the direction I just came from.
An hour and a half later, I slide a black skull mask over my face, feeling the silicone catch against my stubble.
From where I parked, it's easy to cut across the woods just behind her house and walk through the backyard.
The lock on her back door gives way with a soft click, and I move through her home just as I have numerous nights before.
Inside, the blue glow of security panels winks at me from three corners before I disable them with ease from an app on my phone. Her house has a system from our company, enhanced with some of her father’s tech, but it wasn’t anything too hard for me to find a way around.
As always, her scent is everywhere. And tonight, it takes all of five seconds to know I’m fucked. Cain's presence slams into my spine, and my legs give out. It took thirty minutes to wrangle the fuckers waging war on my sanity, and it was all for nothing.
“Fuckkk,” I whisper, growling, breathing my agony out.
I’m unused to being so easily distracted; it just doesn’t happen. The sensation is physically uncomfortable, but it's a brand of torture that I keep coming back for.
I keep telling myself it’s just to get the cameras set up, fix them just right.
But anyone who knows me knows I could’ve wrapped this up on the first night—I don’t make mistakes.
A camera will go out time and time again…
simply because I want it to. Or maybe it’s Vael—I can’t tell the difference between him and I anymore.
Truth is, though, I need an excuse. I need these extra nights to figure her out, to understand why I can’t get her off my mind. Because the first night I saw her, I was hooked, like a goddamn addict.
Constantly watching her on the feeds, taking in how she breathes when she sleeps.
I know every inch of her already—the way she dances around when she thinks no one is watching, the way she’s obsessed with those sparkly water tumblers, collecting them as if it’s some kind of fanatic.
I swear she fills a new one up every day.
But what really drives me insane is her skin… a rich bronze that looks smooth enough to make a man lose his mind with just one touch. Every time she moves, it’s as if I’m watching poetry made flesh.
Jesus… I sound thirsty as fuck.
When Cain finally loosens his grip, I pull myself off the floor.
Silently, I take the back stairs two at a time, watching her through the only place the current feed is going—my phone.
Even as I open her bedroom door—gently nudging it closed—I observe the way her brows furrow, then relax, in the camera I planted in her aromatherapy machine.
I check that one more than I care to admit, studying her every expression.
The first night I saw her lip part as she pleasured herself on my screens—up close and in 4K—it took me over the edge.
At first, it seemed so odd that someone like her would like it the way she does. But every damn time she finishes, legs spread on those cream-colored sheets, her skin glistening, eyes glazed and haunted with sleep— I couldn’t look away.
She’d seemed more like the love-making type, but no, my girl likes it hard and rough. She isn’t satisfied until tears flood her eyes.
I could be the one to do that for her. I could lick away those pretty tears while I fuck her just the way she likes.
I want to claim every morsel of her pleasure—her pain—as mine. I want to be the one to show her how real pain can melt into something that she will come to crave with every breath she takes. I could give that to her.
When my cameras aren’t enough, I come here and watch her just before she drifts off, under the guise of tech issues. I only ever allow myself to get as far as the end of her bed, but my need to possess her grows stronger with each passing night.
Tonight, I need to be closer.
I need to touch her. And standing here, inches from her parted lips, doesn’t make it any easier.
“My God, you’re devastating,” I whisper, the words slipping out, without thought.
She has the kind of beauty that could lay waste to a man’s heart without much effort. Even in her sleep, she stirs something in me.