Chapter 1 #2
Like I said, death isn’t much of a threat. There are times that I wish it would come for me.
He pulls me toward the single door, his grip so tight that I think he’s leaving marks.
I try to keep up, but the three-inch stilettos I’m wearing to make my legs look longer make it difficult to keep pace, and I stumble but catch myself.
My father just yanks harder.
The door swings open, a man appearing in late afternoon light. I halt to a stop when I see him and then start to fall, not able to stop it this time when my father keeps pulling.
He lets me crash to the pavement, the gravel digging into my hands and knees. I’m shaking now, as I tilt my head up to look at the man towering over me.
“Don’t you look like a fucking cupcake?” he says in this cold voice that starts a violent shiver running through me.
He is hands down the most frightening person I’ve ever seen.
Well over six feet, he’s all muscle and covered in tattoos, even his face.
But it’s his eyes that really get me. They are an unnatural amber color that make him look like the devil incarnate.
I dip my head again, letting it sink toward the pavement.
“Get up,” my father spits through gritted teeth. “And for fuck’s sake, wipe yourself off and look presentable.”
I try to push myself up, but my muscles have turned to jelly.
My father grabs me by the hair and pulls, the pain that shoots through my scalp enough to make my eyes water, but I don’t cry out.
He leans down. “Did you think I was going to let you get away with this little stunt you’ve been pulling?”
I reach back, grabbing his hand to try to minimize the pain, but it only makes my knees dig deeper into the gravel.
The other man watches, a cold smile curling his lips. He reaches out, and, though I try to shrink away, he grabs me under the armpits and hauls me to my feet. “Come on, cupcake, it’s time to meet the family.”
Family? What is he talking about? When he gets me to my feet, he wraps an arm around my waist and then lifts me off the ground, carrying me inside the building like I’m some kind of mannequin.
Looking at him is just scaring me more, so I scan the hall in front of us, my eyes adjusting to the dim light.
That’s when another figure enters the hall. A woman, in nothing but a G-string, her breasts on clear display, prances toward us.
I’d say she ought to be embarrassed, but they are completely fake.
My hand comes to the man’s chest, his muscles granite under my hand as I try to push. “Forget it,” he rumbles and squeezes my middle, forcing all the air from my lungs. “You’re not going anywhere or doing anything that my brother doesn’t want.”
I look up at him again, my lips forming an O as I try to piece together what is happening. Behind me my father gives a cackling laugh, before his gaze fixes on the nearly naked woman. “What’s her name?”
“That’s Chastity,” the man answers. “She’s yours for the next hour…after we settle our business.”
My stomach rolls and my head swims. I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I know it’s bad. Really bad.
Another open door comes into view, and the man carrying me angles toward it. I feel it deep in my bones; I don’t want to know what’s behind that door. Or who…
But I’m not in any position to protest as he carries me through.
It’s even darker in the room than it was in the hall, and my eyes take a moment to adjust.
When they do, I find four men sitting around a beat-up table that looks like it’s from the fifties. Even sitting, I can see these four men are as scary as the man carrying me, all of them large and tattooed.
And each of them has these eyes that are the color of gold or amber that is…
“Here she is, Angel,” the man holding me grunts, setting me unceremoniously on my feet. My ankles wobble, but I get my legs under me. I have no idea how I look, not that I care. But my hands are bleeding, my knees likely are too, and my father just yanked out a bunch of my hair.
The man at the end of the table stands.
My mouth falls open as I stare. If it’s possible, he’s even larger than the man who carried me in.
His hair isn’t spiked, it waves back from his face, but it’s the only soft thing about him, every line of him is rock-hard.
I take a half step back, but the man who carried me shoots out an arm and pushes me forward.
“You know the terms,” my father says behind me.
Is…is my father selling me? I look back at him, my eyes so wide, and for the first time in a long time, I know they’re filled with my fear. I’d get down on my knees and beg if I thought it would help.
“I do,” Angel answers, moving closer. I can barely catch my breath as he comes to stand in front of me, towering over me even in my heels. “And you know mine.”
“We are agreed then?” My father sounds well and truly pleased. Which is so very bad. I look back at him, my body starting to shake all over again.
“We are agreed.”
My father’s lips curl into a grotesquely satisfied smile. “I hear that despite your many sins, you’re a man of your word. Is that true?”
“It’s true,” the other man answers. “If I make you a promise, I’m keeping it.”
“Don’t look so sad, Promise. This is a happy day. My baby girl is getting married.” And then he lets out the kind of dark laugh that makes the hair on my arms raise.
My head whips around again to stare at the man in front of me. He can’t mean… My eyes travel up the massive width of his chest, to the thick tattooed cords of neck, and over the hard edges of his square jaw. Finally, I stop at the cold unnatural amber eyes that stare back at me.
I shake my head, my hair brushing across my back as I try to dissent. No. I can’t. Not this man.
My father’s hand digs into my hair again, the sharp sting making me reach back again, as I try to manage the pain.
“You told me she doesn’t speak,” Angel rumbles. “But I want to know. Does she make any noise at all? Will she cry?” He leans down peering into my face, his amber eyes holding mine and making me forget all about the pain at the back of my head. “Does she scream?”