Chapter 22
Purge
I'm finally inside my father’s emails.
I scour every message and every folder. Nothing, of course.
Luckily, Thor hooked me up with software that recovers deleted messages, no matter how old they may be. I have it running, waiting for it to work.
The ping sound comes sooner than I thought it would. Excited, I lean forward, scrolling through the multitudes of messages that come up. I sift out the spam, sending it to the trash. I make my way through the rest, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
“Holy fuck!” I yell, finding a series of messages between my father, and... Betty fucking Solomon.
My eyes glued to the screen, I start reading.
Chills break out along my arms as I piece it all together.
Betty and my father had a torrid affair.
It's not uncommon for mafia heads to have sidepieces.
However, she got pregnant. Neither her nor my father wanted the child.
But instead of aborting, she gave birth, handing the infant to my father.
My father put the newborn down into The fucking Morgue.
That kid lived his whole life down there.
It's... 3.
Oh my God.
He's my half-brother, and his real name is Samuel Solomon.
I push backwards from the desk I'm at, stomach churning. I don’t know how to process this.
I start to tremble, a lone tear sliding down my cheek. Thor notices, coming to my side.
“You okay, man?” he asks, concern in his eyes.
“Not really. I just found out who 3 is.” I fill him in on what I just learned.
He pales, getting up to hug me tightly. “That’s a lot, man. I got you, though. I'm your friend, yeah?”
I smile softly. “You are, yes. And I appreciate it.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Bill mutters. I'm about to snark back, but he surprises me by getting up and coming over. He hugs me, too. “I’m your friend too, okay?”
Both mine and Thor's mouths drop open. I just nod, as does Thor.
I take several deep breaths. God, I hated my father before this after all he’s done to Iskra, all those patients, and me. But now, the hate I feel is so intense, I know I have to kill him. Soon.
I stand on shaky legs. “I’m going to find 3,” I announce.
“Good luck,” Thor calls after me.
Patient 3
Purge walks up to where I’m sitting, deep in thought inside the theater—where I came to be alone with my thoughts.
“Hey, man, I found out some stuff about your identity.”
I startle, widening my eyes at him. “What?” I push out.
“It’s... a lot, man. It's best if you come and see for yourself, so I can explain,” he emphasizes.
“Okay,” I mumble, going back to the computer room with him.
“Hey, bro,” Thor says.
“Hi,” Bill clips, not taking his eyes off his screen.
“Hi,” I say back.
I stand behind Purge’s chair. He motions me to come closer, pointing to the screen he has pulled up. He sighs heavily.
“You are the child of Betty Solomon, and... my father, Vlad Volkov.”
He really ripped that bandage right off, didn’t he? Fuck.
My legs buckle, and I hit the floor. It takes all my will not to rock back and forth.
“Shit, 3.” Purge scrambles out of his chair to help me up.
Once I’m standing again, Purge keeps talking.
“It was hard to track this shit down. It was covered up in my father’s files by a thousand different things.
What I found was old correspondence between Betty and my father—emails.
You are their love child. They had to keep it hush-hush, so they tossed you into The Morgue the second you were born. I'm so sorry, man.”
I keen, unable to help my response.
Attempting to choke out words, I ask, “You are my... brother?”
Purge chokes up, rising from his seat and encircles me in his arms.
“Brothers,” he whispers, and I just break down sobbing.
I never in a million years thought I’d have any true family. The fact that I have a half-brother trumps that the sick fuck Volkov is my sperm-donor.
“What… is my… name?” I ask Purge.
“Samuel Solomon,” he answers, a softness in his eyes.
I roll that name around in my head. It does sound familiar. Maybe the masks said it at some point. I don’t remember right now.
“I’ll tell Iskra when they get back,” Purge says.
I shake my head vigorously. “Wait.” Words are getting harder now. “You tell her… then send her… to me.”
“Go on to your room, man. I’ll tell Iskra to come find you.” He stops, a shaky hand working through his scruffy hair. “This may be hard to grasp. I really hate having to tell you this. You're a good guy. I am honored we’re brothers.” There’s sincerity in his words.
On autopilot, I trudge back to my room.
I feel numb. This is news I wasn’t expecting to hear, ever.
Now I know my name. I can’t even start to absorb that.
I need Em, she always makes it better.
Phoenyxx
“We’re back, Killer,” Frost’s voice wakes me from my nap.
I open my eyes, grinning up at my beautiful, silver-haired, crystal blue-eyed guy. He is the very definition of breathtaking.
Razor's bright red curls brush my face when I turn my head towards him, making me smile wider. He’s hot as fuck. Totally droolworthy.
Hunter, Ghost, and Valley get out of the car, Ghost opening my door for me. He quickly scoops me up, holding me to him like something precious.
This man—God. I fell in love with him first. His black hair and black eyes stand out against his light skin. His face is perfection—simply stunning.
Hunter laughs, coming to my side to kiss me on the lips. He’s stupid sexy. That tousled blonde hair, the bedroom eyes. Every inch a dominant, yet soft-hearted man.
Valley is behind us, chattering away to an amused Jax. We head inside, and Purge is standing there, pacing in front of the door. The look on my face has me telling everyone to stop.
“Put me down, Ghost.”
Ghost scoffs but does as I ask.
“What’s wrong, Purge?” I reach out to tenderly stroke his blonde hair, liking the sexy scruff that lines his jaw.
But Purge shakes his head. “How did it go with your parents?”
I beam. “Amazing. They’re wonderful. They really love me.”
“I’m so happy for you, Iskra.” Purge’s eyes shift away for a moment. “I found out who 3 is. Can I take you to him?”
I gasp loudly. “Oh my God. Yes, please. Is he okay? Are you? You look rattled.”
“I will be, Iskra. The information is a lot. I'll explain on the way.”
As we walk to 3’s room, Purge fills us in and tears fill my eyes.
“Oh, Purge. You're brothers? How do you feel about that?”
“Yeah. I'm good with it. But 3 needs you, baby.” Purge looks past me to the others. “She needs to go alone, alright? We can hang in the media room.”
Everyone agrees and departs, leaving me to knock on my door.
“3? It's me, I’m coming in,” I warn him so I don’t startle him.
I slip inside, locking the door behind me. 3 is on my bed, sobbing into my pillow.
“My Golden-Eyed Boy. I'm right here,” I croon, moving to wrap him in my arms.
“My father. Purge is my… brother.” 3 strains to get the words out. He is doing so much better with talking. I wait for him to continue. “My name. Sam... Samuel. Solomon.”
Even though Purge told me this already, I still feel shocked at hearing it spill from his lips.
“Is it okay if I call you Sam? No more number?” I ask.
“Yes, Em,” 3—Sam answers.
“Em?” I warm inside at hearing the nickname.
Sam nods. “Emerald.”
I fall in love with him a little bit more.
I lean closer, the urge to kiss him too strong to resist.
We fall into each other, and the kiss deepens. My breath gets choppy, need spurring me further. I slowly strip off my shirt and bra, chest heaving. I manage to slip off my pants and panties. I wait, checking his reaction.
Sam swallows hard, making a garbled sound. With shaky arms, he removes his clothes also. Is this really going to happen? I need him now, and I won’t be denied my fill of my Golden-Eyed Boy.
Sam takes over, kissing me again, hand stroking my hair. He slowly lays me backward onto my mattress, coming down with me and hovering over me.
Uncertainty clouds his face.
“We don’t have to...” I start to say.
“I want you, Em. Please. Now.”
“You’re a virgin, right?” I ask, wanting to be sensitive if it is his first time.
Sam nods.
“Let’s go slow, okay?” I suggest.
Still above me, he reaches down to caress my breast. When his gentle touch skims my nipple, electricity shoots to my core, and I feel myself get wet fast. I whimper, and Sam smiles. He confidently palms my other breast, leaning down to take each nipple in his mouth, one at a time.
“Sam...” I moan, unable to say anything else with the strength of the feelings I’m experiencing.
Getting braver, he reaches down farther, finding my soaked center. It's his turn to moan, as he slides a finger up and down my slit. He looks up into my eyes, exploring my pussy. When he finds my clit, I suck in a breath.
“Good?” Sam rasps out.
“So good,” I say breathlessly.
With just a few more rubs, I feel an orgasm bearing down on me already.
It seems like I’ve waited forever for this moment. Secretly fantasizing and hoping it would happen.
With a sexy little growl, Sam positions himself right over me, fisting his length and slotting it to my pussy. He bites his lip as he ever-so-slowly breaches my entrance, pausing once the tip is inside.
The look on his face has me groaning, feeling like I can come again just from the bliss I see.
“More,” I beg.
Sam complies, going deeper inside, inch by delicious inch. Once he bottoms out, he starts to move. I encourage him with words and by thrusting upward to meet him.
Sam moves so beautifully, adoration shining from his eyes. He makes love to me, and I fall so much harder, I have to tell him.
“I love you, Sam. So fucking much.”
“Love. You. Em,” he manages to say, before his movements speed up, and I can tell he’s close.
I feel him swell inside me, which triggers another orgasm. I cry out his name, and he falls over the edge with me, filling me with hot spurts of come.
Breathing hard, Sam flops down beside me, unable to take his eyes off me. I know we should go shower, but right now, I don’t care.
I just want to cuddle with my Golden-Eyed Boy.
Ghost
I'm out for blood. I know Malishka is holed up with 3, probably fucking him. Lucky bastard.
Jealousy is not a good look for me, but I’m so envious I could spit. I do get along with 3. I didn’t anticipate Malishka claiming him as hers, nor the fact that they would have sex.
It's bad enough I have to share my girl with six others, but now another one?
Needing to change my thought process, I let my mind drift to that bastard, Maxim, locked up in the lowest level of this place. My half-brother. What a fucking joke.
My feet carry me to the stairs before I can think about it too hard. I pound down them, going straight for the metal door that will bring me to that rapist piece of shit.
I punch in the code, the door opening. I slip inside and shut it behind me.
I walk straight over to where Maxim is hanging in the shackles still. He looks like shit. Bloody as fuck, missing a thumb and an ear.
He wearily lifts his head, smirking at me. The utter audacity of this fuck!
“What are you smiling at?” I bark.
“My brother,” Maxim rasps out. “Nice to see you again.”
Rage builds inside me, and I know I’m about to snap.
Instead of ending this motherfucker, I whip out my phone. Making a very rash decision, I dial my father.
“Son?” My father’s voice comes through. I put it on speakerphone.
“Guess what I’m doing right now? I'm staring straight at your illegitimate bastard, hanging from chains.”
“What? Son, let him go. Now,” my father demands.
I laugh loudly. Once I start, I can't stop.
I set the phone on its stand on the table, facing Maxim.
Walking toward Maxim, I snatch a heavy hammer from the table. I heft it upwards, swinging hard for his midsection.
Maxim cries out when it hits. I did aim for a nonlethal spot, not wanting to rupture any organs. Yet, anyway. Malishka deserves to do the honors with me.
“Son? Let him go!” my father screams through the phone.
He never yells. I've rattled him—good.
I start to whistle, going in once more to smash a shoulder. Maxim screams again as his shoulder dislocates.
Picking the phone back up, I put it close to my mouth, and whisper, “You’re next, Father. I will end you. I am going to cut you into tiny pieces and feed you to pigs. You can’t run. You can’t hide. I am coming for you.”
My father sucks in a harsh intake of breath. “Son... be reasonable. I love you.”
That does it.
I lose it, cracking up laughing.
I don’t utter another word, just disconnect the call.
I turn my back on a semi-conscious Maxim, leaving the room.
I’m going to stand outside Malishka’s door until she comes out.