Chapter 22
DAMIAN
As expected, Alex didn’t come to our estate to see us before we left for initiation. Luca looked bitter about it, but he said nothing. However, he didn’t need to. His eyes flicked toward Wellington Manor as we stood outside with our father.
Bash gritted his teeth, eyeing up Luca. He was still mad and had every right to be. Alex would have shown up if not for our brother’s attitude. Whatever he said to her last night set her over the edge.
I brushed my fingers against Bastian’s, and he glanced at me. We communicated with our eyes, using our unspoken bond. I was telling him it was okay to be sad. That I knew it fucking hurt. I knew pain better than anyone.
A black limousine parked in the circular driveway. Enzo got out and came around to open the door for us.
“Mr. Salvatore,” he said to my dad with a nod, his Italian accent thick.
Even after all these years, Enzo still sounded like he had just gotten off the boat from Sicily. He worked for one of the crime bosses in Italy, who gave him to our family, and he’d been with us ever since.
“Enzo.” Dad nodded. “It’s a big day.”
“Yes, sir. Your boys are becoming men.” He patted Dad on the arm. “Congratulazioni.”
Luca snorted at his comment, taking offense at being called a boy. We’d been men for years. All three of us appeared much older than eighteen, and with our unusual upbringing, we were mentally years ahead of our time.
Besides, Luca would be nineteen in July, with Bash only a month behind him. And I was in November.
Marcello stood beside our dad, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He wore a black Henley that made his huge biceps even larger. You could tell he trained daily and never slacked on his workouts.
“My boys.” Dad rested his hands on mine and Luca’s shoulders, his eyes moving between us. “This is going to be the hardest two months of your lives. But I have prepared you. After a day on the island, you’ll want to leave. Stay strong. The struggle is worth it in the end.”
“Any advice for us?” Bash asked, shifting his stance to his right foot, clearly nervous about going to the island.
“You’re a Salvatore,” Dad said. “Make them fear the name I gave you.”
My heart swelled at his words. Our adoptive father was mean and terrifying, but he was my dad and had been for the past ten years. I had been his son longer than I was Damian Townsend. My biological father was almost a distant memory at this point.
So when Arlo called us his sons—Salvatores—it meant something to me. That was why I would do anything he asked. Disappointing him was not an option. I wanted to be part of this family, and so did Bash.
He gave each of us a one-arm hug.
“Good luck,” he told us. “I’ll be watching from a distance.”
Luca didn’t even look back and climbed into the limo.
Bastian got in next.
I stepped toward the door, but Dad grabbed my arm.
“Damian, you’re special,” he said, his voice low but deep. “You will have the easiest time on the island. Use the skills I taught you to survive. Understand?”
My hunting skills.
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” He patted my back. “Take care of your brothers. Bash will need you the most.”
He didn’t realize that I needed Bash more than he needed me. But we never talked about that part of our relationship. Luca and Marcello knew, so I was sure our dad did. However, he never confronted us about it.
“I’ll take care of them,” I promised before getting into the limo with my brothers.
* * *
The scenery below us was breathtaking. There was nothing but blue-green water for miles. The island was off the Atlantic Ocean, but I wasn’t sure where they were taking us.
When we were about to land on the island, I leaned over and wrapped my arm around Bash. “We’ll get through this together,” I whispered in his ear. “It’s you and me. Forever.”
The rotary blades were so loud that it was hard to hear over them.
He pressed his lips to my ear and said, “Always.” His hand grazed my thigh, and I wished he would keep it there, but he pulled away immediately, knowing Luca was watching us. “Two months. We can make it, D.”
There was no way in hell I would disappoint my father. I didn’t care if they starved us to death because the three of us would survive.
As our bodies separated, Luca glared at us. He didn’t have any issues with our being into each other. But he had a problem with us showing what he considered unnecessary affection.
“If you two act like pussies on this island,” Luca hissed, shaking his head. “I’m disowning you.”
The helicopter landed.
Luca took one look at us and hopped down from the chopper without another word.
“Fucking asshole,” Bash mumbled, hand balled into a fist on his lap. “I might kill him before we leave this goddamn island.”
* * *
There was blood. So much fucking blood that the air smelled like metal. It was all I could think about, consumed by the bloodlust. My heart raced uncontrollably, clambering in my chest.
I needed Bash.
But he couldn’t fix me, not how I needed him to, and not with all The Devil’s Knights in our pledge class surrounding us.
He watched me lose my mind, kneeling on the ground and tearing through organs.
Right through the muscle. Discarding the bones like a vulture picking apart the scraps of a corpse.
They made me do this.
I didn’t have a choice.
I had to survive.
For him.
For her.
For them.
* * *
Two months later, we came home from Skull Island bruised and battered. We were not the same men who left Devil’s Creek.
Our father waited for us on the front steps as we exited the limousine.
Dressed in a black Brioni suit, he grinned, which was unusual.
He rarely smiled, but today, he couldn’t contain his excitement.
A man of few words, Arlo pulled each of us into a one-arm hug, starting with Luca and saving me for last.
I was everyone’s last choice.
Always.
“My boys,” Dad said, leading us into the house. “You did well on the island. I watched all the footage and couldn’t be more proud of you.”
I cast a sideways glance at Bastian. He shook his head, disgusted with himself for all the horrible shit our pledge class did in the name of The Devil’s Knights.
The prisoners on the island were vile criminals and deserved to die.
But the “bonding” exercises were the worst. We had to complete tasks as a group.
Most of the time, that meant enduring hellish conditions without food or water.
Sleeping in filth and blood with rats clawing at our skin in the darkness.
Dad ushered us into the sitting room, stopping in front of the bar to pour four glasses of scotch. We talked about The Devil’s Knights and our four remaining months of the six-month training. However, we could finish the next part while attending Harvard.
I was not the same man who left Devil’s Creek two months ago. The shit they put us through on the island changed all of us. Even Bastian wasn’t very talkative.
Luca took everything they threw at him in stride and never complained. He led our pledge class and did whatever they told us with a sick grin. One day, he would make an excellent Grand Master, like our father.
I was ready to throw in the towel a few times. I didn’t know if I would have made it if not for Bastian. He would not have lasted that long without me.
Our dad’s phone rang, and he left the room to answer the call. He never took a day off. It didn’t matter that it was a Sunday. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen us in months. Arlo Salvatore loved money more than anything in this world.
Luca put his feet on the table, leaning back in the armchair like a king. “We’re not visiting Alex in Providence.” He drank from the highball glass, downing half the contents. “No calls. No texts. No contact. She’ll be compliant when she sees us again.”
Alex refused to speak to Luca at the graduation party. After he called her white trash and said it was all a game, she was done with him. Her rebellious act set Luca off, and he had been stewing over it.
Luca hated her again.
He would make her life a living hell, and this time, he would use us to help him.
“Get over yourself,” Bastian snapped. “You fucked with her head and screwed us over. Alex had every right to be mad at you. That was two fucking months ago. Grow up!”
Luca drained the glass and slammed it on the table, eyeing up Bastian with those cold, blue eyes.
“She needs to learn her place. That girl has gotten away with too much shit because the two of you let her. You went fucking soft on me in high school. That’s why I laid my claim to her. I did that for both of you.”
Bastian shot up from the couch, cheeks flushed with anger. “I’m not in the mood for your shit right now, Luca.” He turned his back on us, walking toward the exit. “I need a fucking shower and a nap before I can talk to you.”
Luca gave me one of his challenging glares, which said, “Are you going to run like a scared bitch, too?”
So I stayed.
I was not afraid of him.
“You’ll do what’s necessary.” Luca rested his elbow on the armchair, eyeing me up.
“Talk some sense into Bash. This is a smart move. Alex needs to learn her place. No more babying her. No more treating her like a spoiled princess. To become the Queen of The Devil’s Knights, she needs to toughen up. ”
He had a point.
Our girl wasn’t ready to become our queen. But one day, she would be, and she had to learn how to swim on her own. But we would never be far, always watching, waiting for the day she had to choose.