Chapter Four
Fly
My leg throbbed as I dragged it down the stairs, trying not to bump it on the wooden steps.
I had to find painkillers or alcohol or something; even a knife so I could stab myself in the fucking heart.
When they’d left, I’d fallen into a delirious sleep, sweating and swearing as images of the past collided with current times.
Moth and Alia, covered in blood, had been dancing by the stream on the compound, hugging and laughing.
Brit, my arch fucking enemy, had been naked, walking towards the bed as she ran a hand over her breast.
The memory of it would’ve made me hard if I wasn’t hopping through the living area and into the kitchen at the back. Floor to ceiling windows showed me the trees, which were thin at the back. Through the gaps, I could see the pond and the long lawn leading up to the mansion.
“Fucking hell!” I exclaimed, turning back to the kitchen and rooting through the cupboards.
There were several forks and spoons but no knives. Of course not, they weren’t stupid enough to leave me a way to kill myself… or them.
Frustrated, I swung open a drawer and paused, frowning. A painkiller packet was the only thing in there and it had two tablets left in the foil. Seriously? How did they have time to remove everything that could’ve put me out of my misery?
I swore as I flung on the tap and filled a glass quickly, swigging the water to take the two pills. There wouldn’t be much pain relief for me right now, but I would find a way.
“Don’t do this!” I heard a woman’s voice, echoing outside.
Frowning, I hobbled over to the window and looked out, catching sight of a couple on the other side of the trees, near the pond. The male was manhandling the woman, forcing her to her knees.
“You’re betrothed to me,” he said loudly, “You need to pass on Chad’s power. Now.”
I squinted, trying to see through the trees as he dropped his pants. The woman shook her head, squealing when he grabbed her and shoved his cock into her mouth. I could barely make it out, but her cries reached me and fire heated my veins.
Going to the window, I pounded on it. “Hey! Get off of her!”
My shout echoed around me but was this place soundproofed? The man lifted his head, his gaze scanning the tree line. Ah, maybe he had heard me. Using the little strength I had, I hit the window again, four times before I stopped to check whether he had let her go.
No, he had dragged her around as he searched the trees, his hand on the back of her head and holding her. Her little fists hit his thighs, but he just turned back to her and thrust his hips forward. Fucking cunt! How dare he abuse the woman he was supposed to marry?
All the memories came flooding back. I’d seen this happen to my female associates when I’d been a teen and there’d been nothing I could do to stop it. In fact, they’d forced me to do it to a girl once too, when I was just fourteen.
A shudder rocked me and I punched the glass again. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Spittle flew from my lips, splashing against what I knew to be a bulletproof window. The man spooked and pulled away from the women, smacking her across the face with the back of his hand. As she fell to the grass, clutching her cheek, he stormed off, leaving her there sobbing.
“Hey!” I tried to shout. “Over here!”
The woman looked towards the trees and got to her feet, treading through until she was in the small grass clearing behind the lodge. Her eyes widened when she spotted me and she turned, only to pause. I swallowed, my heart pounding as she looked at me again and came closer, holding her bloody nose.
Her eyes were filled with tears and her cheeks were wet. I’d forgotten how depraved it had been at the compound. I’d wanted to die to avoid reliving the pain of the past, but I’d made a vow to the bug gang.
The woman slowly walked across the grass and approached the window, reaching out her free hand until it lay where mine did but on the other side.
“Who are you?” she mouthed, dropping both hands to her sides.
A horn sounded in the distance and she whipped around, running away before I could blink.
My whole body started to shake as that horn, although distant, vibrated through me.
I knew that sound. It was the one that had awoken our nightmare when we’d been brought back at thirteen years old. It was time for someone’s punishment.
Holding the counter, I watched the woman run through the trees and towards the mansion. She quickly disappeared from view and I glanced around, my breath short as dark spots danced across my eyes.
Being away for years had helped me to forget the sound of the horn.
Every time Chad had arranged a ritual, he'd sound a horn that echoed throughout the compound.
We'd have to drop what we were doing and go to the mansion, ready to watch him fuck someone or punish them.
If we stayed away, we'd be punished ourselves, our food withheld for two days.
The hunger burned my stomach, reminding me what it had been like.
Turning to the fridge, I yanked it open and grabbed out the milk, downing it in big gulps until my thirst was satiated.
I replaced the bottle and positioned myself back to the window. They would be in the hall now, sitting in front of the stage and waiting for their leader to arrive. The poor idiots believed that he was God, gifting them with healing, ready for the perfect earth.
My need to die suddenly evaporated, replaced by the anger that fired my stomach. The guys and I had sworn vengeance on all who had hurt us and we’d barely started on the elders, let alone Chad Murray.
I could make a head start without my brothers. If I could get close to some of the elders, it might strengthen our fight when it came to taking them out. I'd have to escape after a while to let the boys know, but I could begin exorcising the demons who were on our hit list.
Studying the living area, I noted that the fire hadn't been used before. The logs were placed artistically in the grate and the utensil holder beside it was empty. They'd cleared out everything that could become a weapon, which was a shame.
The lock of the front door clicked and I hobbled forward, leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen area and crossing my arms over my chest. I'd charm the pants off whoever walked in the door and get more information.
Brit jerked to a stop as soon as the door was open. Our gazes clashed and I dropped the charming smile I'd been aiming in her direction.
“Why are you smiling?” she snapped, checking over her shoulder before shutting the door and locking it.
“I was hoping you were a sexy cleaning lady,” I replied, turning on my acerbic charm, “I was going to floor her with my good looks and get her to help me escape.”
Scoffing, Brit went to the couch and threw a holdall on it. “You're god's gift to women, are you?”
Giving a mock smug smile, I moved to stand behind the couch and placed my hands on the back of it. Brit didn't flinch or look up as she searched through the holdall.
“What are you doing?” I mumbled.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed and I smiled to myself. Ah, so she wasn't completely impervious to me. She was either scared or excited. It didn't matter which, as long as I could use it to my advantage.
“I've got you clean clothes.” She took out jeans and a tee, placing them on the arm of the couch. “And some first aid bits. I need to fix you up or you'll get an infection.”
Chuckling, I peeled off my dirty blood stained t-shirt and threw it at her feet. “Oh, thank goodness, I was becoming disgusted with myself. You want to give me a bed bath? The nurses in the hospital were so accommodating.”
She scowled as I winked, her smooth forehead wrinkling. “You always were an arrogant a-hole.”
Her gaze skipped over my torso before she cleared her throat and gestured at the couch. I stared at her, studying the curve of her breasts under her dress and the soft heart shape of her face.
“You want me on the couch? Shall I undress?” Lifting my arm, I sniffed my pit, scrunching up my face against the pong. “Not sure I'm fit for anything, right now. I do like to shower first.”
“You will need to take your jeans off. You can shower after; I just need to sort your stiches.” She undid her first aid box and pulled out alcohol wipes and a needle.
Shaking my head, I backed up. I'd done my own stitches in the past, when I'd fallen from my bike;
I didn't trust anyone else.
“You're not coming near me with that.”
“I'm medically trained,” she fixed me with a steely glare, “just sit down. Now.”
Holding my hands up in surrender, I popped open the top button on my fly and slowly lowered the zip. Brit glanced at me, her eyes darting to where I tucked my thumbs into my waistband and slowly pushed my jeans down my legs, tensing when they grazed my wound.
“Have you been drugged?” she said, gesturing for me to move around the couch and sit. “You've calmed down.”
I laughed as I sat, spreading my legs. My black briefs barely covered my modesty and her cheeks burned pink as she sat down in front of me. I liked to wind her up, it amused me.
“I thought about what I would do to you and your father when I've healed.” Smirking, I stretched my leg in front of me. “And it made me a lot happier. Even stopped me from feeling suicidal.”
Her bottom teeth caught her top lip as she ripped open the alcohol wipe and slammed in on my leg, right on the most healed part of my wound.
As she dragged it over my skin, I hissed out a breath.
The bitch stung me with the cloth, making sure to clean the ridged edges where a couple of the stitches had loosened.
She stayed quiet as she cleaned me up and took out the needle, threading it before gripping my leg. “This is going to hurt.”
“Not as much as being back here.”