Chapter 21 Kashton
TWENTY-ONE
KASHTON
Ireturn to Carnage a couple of hours later. The ride did nothing but fuck me up more. The way the men talked about Eve and then the conversation I had with Adam…it’s giving me a headache.
At least Saint and Haidyn quit blowing up my phone.
I need to talk to them in person. Fill them in on what’s going on.
I can’t just bring her here without giving them a heads-up.
Especially if Ashtyn and Eve have a past. Adam said they weren’t friends, but will Ashtyn recognize her?
If so, how will that go down? I haven’t been a fan of Ashtyn since she shot my brother.
We put too much trust in her, thought she was one of us, and she betrayed Saint.
I see that as a betrayal toward all of us.
My brother loves her, and I respect that, but I don’t have to accept her.
The moment the elevator door slides open in the basement, “Hallelujah” by No Resolve hits my ears, informing me that Haidyn is in a mood.
A quick look at my watch tells me it’s a quarter till four in the morning. He’s down here later than usual. Pushing the plastic strip curtains out of the way, I come face-to-face with Saint.
“Good luck.” He nods to me, walking by.
“What’s going on?” I ask, turning to face him.
“He’s been down here for two hours with that song on repeat.” Then Saint disappears, walking toward the elevator.
I continue through the basement and pass the pits, headed to the hallway where the cells are. I come up to the fourth on the right and see the door open.
The song blares from the concrete room. My brother’s bloody white T-shirt is wadded up on the floor while he stands in the center with a lit cigarette between his lips. Hudson lies on the floor, curled up in a ball, soaking wet with blood covering his trembling, naked body.
“Haidyn?” I call out.
Reaching up, he removes the cigarette and turns to look at me. He appears calm as can be, and that kind of scares me a little. I’m not sure why. I’ve seen my brothers throw some temper tantrums and fuck shit up. But this is…different. He arches a brow at me.
“Everything okay?” I shout over the music.
Bringing the cigarette back to his lips, he takes in a drag, the end glowing in the darkly lit room.
Once done, he flicks it down onto Hudson.
He whimpers when it lands on his neck, and his hands flail to push it off.
The man has no eyes. Haidyn ripped them out after he bragged that he watched videos of Haidyn fucking Charlotte. I would have done the same.
“Yeah, why?” he asks as the song comes to an end.
“Just wondering.” I glance at my Hublot. “It’s late. Or early…”
“We’re having a good day, aren’t we, Hudson?” He kicks the bastard in the stomach, and he rolls away, cradling his arms around himself in a protective posture.
The song starts once again, and Haidyn removes the pack of cigarettes from his jeans, lighting up another one.
“Haidyn?”
I spin around to see a sleepy-looking Charlotte standing outside the cell in the hallway, wearing a T-shirt, cotton shorts, and a pair of fuzzy pink slippers, her heavy eyes on her husband.
“Hey, doll face.” He exits the cell and leans down, kissing her.
She pulls away, her eyes now showing concern as they search his. “Come back to bed.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Taking his bloody hand, she gives him a small smile. “I want you to come with me now.” Her eyes go from Hudson to him. “This can wait until later.”
“Charlotte—”
“I want you,” she interrupts him.
After a second, he kisses her forehead. “Head upstairs. I’ll be right behind you.” She goes to argue when he says, “Get undressed and crawl into bed for me.”
With one last look at Hudson, she turns and disappears down the hallway, headed back to the elevator and up to their room.
Haidyn walks into the cell, turns off the music, and tells Hudson, “This isn’t your lucky day. I’ll be back to play with you after I fuck my wife.”
Hudson rolls over, giving us his back, and I follow Haidyn out of the cell as he closes the door and locks the bastard inside.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask. Our talk about Eve will have to wait until another day.
Adam said I had a few weeks. That gives me plenty of time to come up with a plan and then fill the guys in on it.
Haidyn comes to a stop, runs a bloody hand through his hair, and sighs. “While I was at Dollhouse, I hallucinated.”
I nod, remembering him telling the guys that they might have side effects from the founders’ enhancement.
“Are you still having side effects?” It’s only been a few weeks, but I wonder if that’s something he’ll have forever.
He shakes his head. “No. Yes…” Trailing off, he looks over at the cell and then back at me. “I got a call from Ryat around midnight. He hallucinated and needed someone to talk to.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Is he okay?”
“As well as a man who sees his wife and children getting tortured and murdered in front of him can be. It feels so real. No matter how much you tell yourself it’s a hallucination.” He widens his stance and goes on. “After his call, I went back to sleep, and well…”
“Had a nightmare?” I guess when he trails off.
He doesn’t respond, and I know that his call with Ryat brought Haidyn’s worst fear to life for him.
“She’s safe, man,” I assure him. I never asked him what he saw happening to Charlotte when he was at Dollhouse. I didn’t need to.
“For now,” he growls. “But that doesn’t change what that motherfucker was going to do to her.”
I slap his bare shoulder. “Go upstairs and fuck your wife. He’ll still be down here when you’re done.
” The bastard isn’t going anywhere. He can’t see, for fuck’s sake.
Devin made him a special mask for his face that covers the holes where his eyes once were.
Haidyn didn’t want him to die from an infection—too easy, he said.
No. He wants his death to be slow and dragged out over years.
But at this rate, I’m not sure he’ll make it another week.
Haidyn turns to walk away but stops and faces me once more. “Have you spoken to Sin?”
I shake my head.
“Give him a call.”
If it was only that easy. I would just show up at his house again, but I don’t want to upset Ellington.
She’s been through enough, and she’s pregnant.
I don’t want to put any more stress on her.
Especially after how much she cried when I took her to that appointment. “He wants nothing to do with me.”
Haidyn moves again, and I follow him down the hall and into the open room where the pits are.
He goes over to the sink in the corner and turns on the faucet before pouring soap into his hands.
“Sin seemed pretty upset at Blackout the other day when Tyson called that meeting.” As he begins to wash his bloody arms, the remnants of his rage splash into the sink.
“If Ryat’s having hallucinations, I can guarantee Sin is too.
” Rinsing off all the suds, he turns off the water and grabs some towels before turning to face me.
“And no matter how mad he is at you, I promise…he could use a friend.” With that, he tosses the wadded-up paper towels and walks away, headed to the elevator to go upstairs to shower and fuck his wife.
I have no doubt that afterward, he’ll be right back down here torturing Hudson with that damn song on repeat.
I pull my cell out and go to Sin’s contact.
I type out a message but then delete it.
It’s four in the morning. My meeting with Adam replays in my mind, and I debate about what to do.
I can’t just ask Eve about her past. She’s not the type of woman to open up about her life. Not to someone like me anyway.
But sex? You can tell a lot about someone by how they like to fuck. Or be fucked. In our world, you’re either the Dom or the sub, and I promise you, 99.9 percent of the time, the woman is the sub. And if Eve’s going to be someone’s toy, she’ll be mine.
I run up to my room, change my T-shirt, grab a hat, and pack a bag. I’m going to go see my girl for the second time tonight.
EVERETT
Sixteen years old
The door to my bedroom swings open with a bang, and I quickly sit up in bed.
“Get up,” my father orders.
Swallowing, I push the covers off and get to my feet. I want to ask where I’m going, but I already know. I’ve been going to the same appointment for the past couple of months.
They say I’m a woman, and a woman has responsibilities. Whatever that means.
I slide on my shoes and follow him out of my room. My feet are heavy, and my heart is broken. This life isn’t worth living. Not like it was before, but I refuse to believe this is all I get. And if it is, then I might as well just end it.
We come to a stop at the end of the hall, and he opens the door for me.
He always stays. It’s to guarantee that I won’t attack the doctor.
I tried once. Managed to hit her in the face before my father grabbed me by the neck and slammed me against the wall.
It knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, I was strapped to the table with him looking over me.
Afterward, I was placed in a straitjacket for three days—punishment for my violent behavior.
“Hello, Eve.” The woman smiles at me as if she’s friendly. No one here is. “Come.” She pats the table. “Lie down for me.”
I know the routine, so I remove my shoes, sweatpants, and underwear, and then I crawl up on the table and lie down with my arms down by my sides, palms up. This position makes her feel safe. Who the fuck cares how I feel?
She straps my wrists to the table so I can’t fight her, then does another over my upper chest and stomach. “Just a precaution,” she tells me. “You won’t feel any pain.”
I swallow nervously, staring up at the ceiling. I’m always put in humiliating situations.
“Small poke,” she informs me before the IV is inserted into my arm. Then a cold sensation runs through my veins, making me shiver.