Chapter 58
58
A ngel and Grey’s heads jerk in my direction the moment the fateful text presents itself. We all knew it was only a matter of time until that melancholic tone would split our lives apart with the arrival of one simple message.
Andreas Noire:
Your presence is required at Noire House this evening, Posey. You will be introduced to the first candidates who have requested your company.
I trust your initiation and training with Calliano will serve you well.
Angel’s face creases as a torrent of pain hits so hard that I can hardly stand to watch the tide sweep in and paint his features. It breaks my heart to see how much blame he lays at his own feet when I’ve already told him in quiet moments curled against his chest how he needs to forgive himself .
If it wasn’t him sent after me, the Anguis would have found someone else to do the task.
They watch me dress and do my hair and makeup with robotic efficiency. There’s a sense of going through the motions about my heavy, leaden limbs when I finally emerge from the bathroom and find the two of them sitting on the edge of the bed.
Grey has his head in his hands.
Angel is up and crossing the room before I’ve made it two steps through the doorway. He kisses me, so soft and sweetly, pouring all of his love into that wordless exchange. I’m left blinking back tears with the surge of emotion that crashes between us. His big palms cradle me against his chest for a long, steadying moment before my giant holds my face.
A gentle smile tugs on his lips, and he swipes his thumbs gently across my cheeks being careful not to smudge the freshly applied makeup. With each brush across my skin, he tells me.
You look beautiful. One knuckle hooks beneath my chin, tilting it up, and the creases around his eyes deepen as he looks down at me. My fierce girl.
“I’ll be back soon,” I murmur.
His eyes drop down to the space between us, and he brings my hand to cover his heart, then taps my fingers there twice.
Yours.
Those kind eyes tell me, before he takes that same hand and brings it to his wrist, to rest over the pulse point there.
Yours, too.
He lets me feel the heartbeat flowing through his bloodstream.
I immediately take his hand, bring it to my own, and repeat the motion. Tapping his fingers against the part of my chest he owns, along with the other two men in my life. Then, I let him wrap his hold around my wrist and my own veins that pound with a kind of need and belonging I never thought I’d be lucky enough to experience in this lifetime .
My eyes drift to the man still seated on the bed, and Angel dips his chin in the direction of Grey.
He needs you, as much as I do.
I cross to him, pushing my way into his space, and force him to look up at me as I stand between his knees. My butcher wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head against my stomach, and lets out a ragged breath.
We stay like that for a quiet moment as I trace my fingers over his cropped hair. Eventually, he looks up at me, and the hazel light in his eyes has been dulled to barely a glimmer of what I’m used to seeing there. I fucking hate seeing his light diminished, and my entire chest squeezes as I duck down and bring my lips to his.
“I meant what I said the other day.” My words brush against his lips. “My foolish, fickle-minded heart never felt anything for anyone, until I met the three of you… but I don’t need any words in return… I just needed you to know without any question that I’m yours. I’m in love with you, just like I’m in love with Angel and Hawke.”
He exhales and lets our foreheads rest together. “My fucking loyalty has always been tethered to pain, little flower. This heart is broken, faulty, sliced to ribbons so many years ago I don’t think it knows how to beat.”
“It does.” I place a palm over his chest, seeking out that steady thud that is so resolutely Grey and his steadfastness for all of us. “I know it does, and I’ll believe in your heart for the both of us. I’m not afraid to love you… all of you.”
The beautiful lines of his face are shadowed, with those cheekbones making him look every inch the gorgeous creature who I remember my pulse fluttering harder for the first moment I saw him, what feels like forever ago.
Grey makes a dark noise of frustration and resignation somewhere in the back of his throat. “I spent so many days and nights hoping you wouldn’t look at me with those soft eyes. Hoped to hell that you wouldn’t tempt me into this, because I can’t be the man you need. ”
With one final kiss, I try to reassure him, try to make him understand that how I see him isn’t through the same warped and cracked lens he sees himself.
“You already are. You’re everything I need.”
The crunch of gravel under our tires is what draws me out of my head full of thoughts, a constant replaying of the moment from earlier, all while the man occupying the driver’s seat beside me squeezes my hand.
Hawke hasn’t let go of me since getting into the vehicle, despite the short distance to reach Noire House. Keeping my fingers laced with his, even though his jaw is set in a grim line, and he hasn’t said a word.
I’m told I have to undergo my final preparations for whatever awaits me at the mansion once we’re inside.
It’s a silent and oppressive walk along darkened corridors, with the weight of this building feeling like it’s crushing my lungs the further we descend into its depths.
The club, the goings on here, none of that concerns me. In fact, I’m more attracted to this world than I could ever have imagined. However, the presence of the likes of Andreas Noire and other awful people like him is what turns it all sour and poisons everything.
Who knows what evil might lurk in the shadows awaiting my arrival because even though we haven’t voiced it out loud, we all know that this arrangement—this bargain I’ ve entered into to save the man I love—is going to be the kind of power game that the man whose name adorns this estate enjoys playing.
Once we’re inside Hawke’s study, there’s already a box waiting, unmistakably the items I’m required to wear.
In all the other times I’ve come here to spend time under Hawke’s command, the lingerie I’d been given was thanks to Grey’s playfulness. He’d picked things out for me, and even though I didn’t know it at the time, I can see it now. There was so much attention to what made me feel incredible and fitted to my body with the kind of perfection that it was as if I’d hand-selected everything myself.
Whereas the item I’ve been given this time is nothing like what my men would ask me to wear. It’s a corset and a collar, in a white shiny latex that feels biting and chafing against my skin. The curved boning crushes my ribs and leaves me feeling as though I have to battle for every single molecule of air the entire time I’m in this particular constraint. Because that’s what it’s designed for.
As Hawke helps me by doing up the fastenings, there’s nothing but the sensation of being slowly strangled and controlled before I’ve even set foot inside the room where I’m expected any moment now.
Bracing my palms on the sink, I look at the man standing behind me as he tugs the lacing and watch the sunken look haunting his eyes. Hawke excels at a lot of things, and right now, he’s in soldier mode. I can see it in the tension flickering at his jaw, the muscle working frantically under the strain of how hard his teeth are clenched.
When he finishes tying me into my fabric cage and moves on to fitting me with the white latex collar, his eyes meet mine in the mirrored reflection. The sapphire blue there is wild and uncontrolled, like a tempest swirling in the middle of the deepest ocean, ready to take down entire continents with a destructive force.
It’s the only hint he’s allowed to be glimpsed so far of what might lie beneath his carefully constructed exterior.
The fastening secures at my nape, and my throat bobs uncomfortably beneath the wide band. Just like the corset made of the same material, this item is meant to be felt . It’s pure domination, and not from a place of willingly being in this position.
This is very much the equivalent of being leashed and controlled, without a care for the recipient's wants or needs.
For the first time, true fear crawls through my veins because I’m suddenly aware of just how dangerous this scenario is. The reality is that Hawke might have given me the trust of a safe word and being the type of man to honor my boundaries, but now I sense the tremor like an impending earthquake of exactly why Angel and Grey were both so torn apart by my agreeing to this bargain.
They know the likes of Andreas Noire’s following. They know the truth of the darkest secrets hidden inside this mansion, and I’ve willingly entered the pit containing the worst examples of humanity.
But to save Angel? To protect him? I’d say yes all over again without a second thought. There’s no question that I’d do the exact same thing for the man standing behind me, and for Grey, also.
“Thank you.” I let the words drift into the echoing quiet between us. A gratefulness for everything this man has given me, including his protection and willingness to let me learn things about myself. It’s all there in those two simple words that mean so much more than just saying thank you for helping me get dressed.
Hawke still doesn’t say anything. There’s no point in him trying to either .
What would he say right now? Considering his past, considering everything he’s endured and survived, it’s a miracle this man is still here and has overcome his own torture.
I turn slowly, facing him now, while knowing that the clock is ticking down.
Those strong hands, veined and tanned and capable of holding my entire heart so masterfully, come up between us, and I realize he’s holding an object. It’s a long, slender case, and when he clicks the hinge open, reveals a thin blade inside. It’s no normal knife or dagger, but it gleams beneath the bathroom lighting.
As he sets the case aside, he turns the metal over, showing me the frighteningly sharp edge that looks to be a razor. A weapon capable of slitting a throat with a mere flick of the wrist. It might be small, seemingly tiny inside his calloused palms, but no less deadly-looking.
“Use this. Without hesitation, if you need to.” His voice is a low, barely there whisper, as he finds one of the ribs running along the front of the corset and slips it carefully to slide vertically into the bone-work. Once it is sheathed inside, the blade is fully concealed, and my heart thumps harder, knowing that Hawke has potentially played a hand in making sure such a detail has been secretly taken care of.
I want to hug him, hold him… I don’t even know. Emotion builds and swirls inside my chest, leaving me swaying on my feet. I want to pause time to be able to tell this man how much he means to me in the same way I was able to have that opportunity with Grey and Angel, but just as I’m about to throw my arms around his neck, there’s a knock.
Keisha opens the door, her face unreadable. She’s in the same mode as Hawke, and I suspect this is the way they deal with the aspects of Noire House that they cannot change, but wish desperately they might eventually be able to find a way to.
“It’s time.” She looks at me, then casts a quick glance at Hawke and nods his way. “I’ll take you to the room.” Her hand extends to usher me toward my impending fate.
Wetting my lips, I puff out my cheeks on a steadying breath, then step in her direction. Whatever it is I wanted to try and express to the man I’ve fallen for so irrevocably, it’ll have to wait. The moment is gone, and I missed my chance. Maybe that will haunt me forever because I don’t know what lies on the other side of this situation, but I can’t take any risks by displeasing whoever I’m duty-bound to satisfy.
“Ok.” My eyes meet Keisha’s, and I smooth my hands over my hair tied in a high ponytail. With each movement of my arms and restricted flow of air attempting to reach my lungs, I feel the noose of this entire outfit tighten.
I’ve hardly taken two steps toward the door when fingers wrap around my wrist, halting my progress. Hawke tugs me back, pulling me into him, and I have to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from making this any harder than it needs to be. I can’t let him see my fear. I can’t reveal just how terrified I am on the inside, because these men need to be guarded from themselves.
They need to still be here for me, for me to come home to… after. I simply can’t bear the thought of them ending up hurt or killed in an attempt to defend me.
His nose grazes my temple, and as we stand there, with his grip clasped tight around my wrist, he raises his other hand and rubs a strand of my hair between his fingertips. Bending his head, Hawke brushes his lips against the shell of my ear, and in that heart-stopping moment, it feels as though he’s about to say something.
There’s an electricity crackling in the air as he hovers and lingers with an intent that I feel right down to my toes. Except it’s not the time for us. It might never be, and my heart has to accept that where this man is concerned .
His chest rumbles with discontent as he doesn’t utter a word and steps back.
This time, he lets me go.