Chapter 2
DRAVEN
“F ind out everything you can about Mia Harker. I want to know where she came from, what she does for fun, what she fucking eats for breakfast. Don’t call me back until you have something useful.” I end the call before my sorry excuse for an investigator can respond. The lack of competence is infuriating.
Six months ago, I had instructed him to find a loophole in Emma Harker’s will. Our families took part in a treaty centuries ago. We agreed to equally split the poison fields until the family line died out or someone refused the inheritance. Dorian Harker wanted no part in this war. He was happy to stay a boring as fuck professor in Raven’s Gate.
So when Mia Harker resurfaced after twenty-five years, I put my entire team on proving her invalidity. She was given away for adoption, for fuck’s sake. That alone should make her claim null and void. But Emma Harker was a sneaky old crone. Her will was ironclad. Now I have to resort to other measures. If this bitch doesn’t sell, I swear to the fucking raven, I’m going to bury her alive in the middle of the baneberry fields.
I loosen my tie before downing a vial of nightshade. The fiery liquid trickles down, burning my throat with its bittersweet sting. I lean my head against the leather seat of my limousine and close my eyes while the toxin works its way into my veins.
These days, it’s getting harder and harder to take the edge off. No amount of whiskey or poison or jerking myself off seems to work. But I still try. I have to, or I’ll fall off the deep end again. And no one wants that. My destruction is unstoppable once it begins.
“Take the long way home, and don’t disturb me until I call on you,” I tell my driver.
I close the partition and lock it before he can respond.
The poison heightens my senses. Everything feels more intense. I unzip my pants and pull out my cock. “Ahh, yeah. Now I can breathe.”
I roll my thumb over the tip, coaxing my pre cum out in circles. The weight of my issues feels a little lighter already. Even as they lurk deep inside my subconscious like a monster hiding under my bed.
I spit in my hand, then smooth it over my shaft slowly, fingering every veiny ridge, savoring it like it’s my last supper. “Fuck, that feels good,” I rasp to myself.
I spread my legs wider and press back against the seat. The poison winds its way through my fingers, elevating every tingle and spark of pleasure. I rock my hips up as I stroke harder, squeezing my cock tight inside my palm.
As a deep spasm courses through me, I see her face.
Fuck.
Not again.
But it’s too late. I’m too hard to get off this fucking ride now. Fuck.
I see her eyes—one brown, one blue, haunting—staring back at me in the mirror of Duff’s bathroom .
“Uhhh,” I cry out. My cock swells, stretching so tight my muscles may rip open while I bleed out.
I flash back to the memory of her perfect fucking ass. The smoothness of it as it pressed against my belly while I fucked her pussy raw.
Fuck, I can’t breathe. The heat in my neck and chest becomes an inferno as I pump my cock hard and fast. I pretend I’m back inside her tight pussy with the taste of jasmine on my tongue.
“Fuck!” All the blood shoots down my shaft and rumbles, sending every nerve afire. I pant for breath as my orgasm unleashes. I jerk my wrist furiously, sliding my palm up and down faster and faster. I cover the tip of my cock with my free hand and unleash a deep guttural growl as my hot milky cum spills into it.
“Mmph,” I mutter unintelligibly. I bite my lip hard as I rock my hips. The mystery girl’s eyes flash in my mind again. She licks her lips in the mirror at me. “Oh, fuck.” Another burst of spasms grips me. I cup my balls as I continue to grind against my hand.
I almost hyperventilate. Fuck. My chest heaves as I try to center myself. As I try to steady my racing pulse. “Fuck,” I whisper.
This has never happened before until her. I don’t fantasize about girls I’ve fucked in seedy bathrooms. But this one… I can’t get her out of my fucking head, and it’s enraging. It’s masochistic.
I have zero interest in anyone else. I don’t even have a real interest in her . That’s not the kind of man I am. I don’t care about any women. But her eyes haunt me. And every time I get a whiff of jasmine, I’m spinning around looking for her. It makes me want to drive my head into a brick wall.
Bones and Aries are starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. I haven’t fucked anyone since her. They know that’s not like me. I keep telling them I’m stressed about my grandmother’s estate and acquiring the baneberry fields. But they know I’m full of shit. I’m only grateful that they don’t press me on the issue. My fuse is so fucking short these days, I’m tempted to burn the entire Harker estate down out of spite.
But ashes don’t make poison or money. And I really fucking love both.
I clean myself off with my monogrammed handkerchief and stuff myself back into my pants. I pinch my eyes shut for a moment and take a deep breath. I try to blow out the shame that fills me for letting myself give into this fantasy for the third time this week.
I glance out the window and sigh when I glimpse the stone-cold walls of Blackwell Manor. The partition opens when I press the button. “Change of plans. Take me back to town.”
“Yes, Mr. Blackwell.”
I shoot Bones a text on the way there. Time to go trick or treating.
He responds with a thumbs-up emoji.
There’s only one thing that will make me feel better right now. Power. Because whenever I think of that sinful brunette from the bar, I feel like I’m losing control.
Crack.
Bones’s fist flies into Clive’s jaw, snapping it out of place. He’s bare-knuckling this one. It gives him more of a rush. He’s the only man I know whose cock hardens when he’s beating the shit out of someone.
“I just need a few more days, Mr. Blackwell,” Clive slurs. It’s kind of hard to talk with a broken jaw.
I snicker. “That’s what you said three days ago, Clive. We’ve been more than agreeable. Now it’s time to pay up. Poison doesn’t come for free.”
He leans forward in his chair and spits a glob of blood out on the ground. “You have plenty of money. Business has been slow this week. Would it kill you to give me just a few more days? ”
Wrong answer. I don’t even have to nod at Bones.
He flashes Clive a sadistic smile before delivering another blow.
Crack .
Clive cries out in agony as his nose bursts open.
“Would it kill me? Is that what you seriously just asked me?” I snarl. “No. But it might be the fucking death of you . You think I got rich by letting every motherfucker who owes me money take their sweet fucking time paying me back?”
A stream of urine trickles down his pant leg. “N-no. Fuck. All I have is in the register. Take it. I can get you the rest by tomorrow night. Please… I’m begging you.”
Bones yanks on the register drawer and shakes his head as he counts the bills. “It’s only half of what he owes.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Twenty-four hours, Clive. Not a second more. Or else I’m going to let him break every bone in your body. Right before he cums all over your mangled flesh.”
Clive’s eyes widen. He looks to Bones, who waves back at him like a psycho. “I swear. Thank you, Mr. Blackwell.”
Fuck. It’s not enough. I’m not satisfied.
I suck in a deep breath. “One more for good measure.” A sliver of darkness sparks inside me as I raise my foot and bring it down hard on his ankle.
Crack .
“Fuck!” Tears stream down Clive’s bloody face, but he doesn’t dare look at me. He doesn’t dare say another fucking word.
Bones arches an eyebrow, and I shrug. “What?” I straighten my tie. “See you tomorrow, Clive.”
I cringe at the bell that jingles when I push the shop door open. I need quiet and stillness. I need release. But I can never find it. Only for that split second I was inside… No. I will not allow a piece of ass to bring me my salvation. No fucking way. I will not feed that monster.
“You all right?” Bones puffs on a joint, his knuckles bloody .
“I have a lot on my mind. I’m fine.”
“It’s just… you never get your shoes dirty. Not since we were kids. And that’s all good. But you wanted to hurt him. I saw it in your eyes.”
Bones is tough, psychotic, unhinged, and physically addicted to pain. But he’s also incredibly smart, intuitive, and sensitive to other people’s emotions. He’s like a sadistic fucking empath who feels everything all the time.
I can placate him for a while, but eventually, he’s going to call bullshit and force me to open up.
But it won’t be today.
I flash him one of my famous grins. “He needed to feel it from me. I didn’t like the way he was insinuating that I’m just some rich guy.” I grab Bones by the shoulders and give him a gentle squeeze. “They need to fear me as much as they do you. If not more. Otherwise, I’m nothing but a cock in a suit.”
He chuckles, satisfied with my answer as he pats me hard on the back. “Thatta boy. We should fuck up people together more often.”
I nod and light up a cigarette. Cool as a fucking cucumber, even though I’m shaking inside.
He loves fighting. He gets off on it. I do too. But the difference between me and him is I won’t be able to stop myself once I get going. I was playing with fire today, even doing what I did. If Bones hadn’t been there to witness… Clive would’ve been nothing but a pile of bloody mush.
I wave him off and flick my cigarette into a puddle before hopping back into my limo. “Home now, Rodrick. Slow down when we pass Harker Mansion. I want to enjoy the view.”
I roll down the window and bask in the crisp autumn breeze. I take a big gulp of it deep into my lungs. We wind through the dark dirt roads away from town. The tree line gets thicker, the leaves and branches shading the road like a sinister force. Rodrick slows the car when we approach the outer edges of Harker Mansion. From here, I can see the lights of the house glowing from every window. A shiver rolls through me.
Locked behind thick iron gates, it sits like an ancient tomb. Surrounded by poison and shrouded in darkness where the particles of light don’t reach. This has become the purpose of my existence. The very disease that works its way into my bones, rotting away my flesh. I will not rest until I get my hands on that fucking baneberry.
“Deep breaths, Mr. Blackwell. Like we practiced,” Rodrick coaxes.
I nod and count to ten as I inhale and another ten on the exhale. “You know you can call me Dray when no one’s around,” I quip. “I’ve been telling you that for years.”
Rodrick has worked for my family since before I was born. He was just a boy when he came to Blackwell Manor. Now, at the ripe age of fifty, he’s the epitome of professionalism and loyalty. But at times, he was like a father to me. And he’s coaxed me out of more than one panic attack over the years.
He clears his throat. “You’re not a boy anymore. You’re Mr. Blackwell. That’s what I’ll call you. Sir.”
I chuckle. “Whatever you say, old man.”
His smile reaches his eyes in the rearview mirror. “With all due respect, sir. I am fifty years young.”
I laugh out loud at that. And sharp as a fucking whistle. “That you are, my friend.”
I take one last glance at Harker Mansion before it disappears on the road behind us. The farther we get, the calmer I feel. I know my reprieve won’t last, but now that Rodrick has guided me down from the ledge once again, I will sleep a little better tonight.
Well, after I polish off a bottle of gin and jerk myself off to the memory of my mystery girl again. Fuck me.
There is no true rest for the wicked. No hope for the depraved.