Scarred (Lost Series Book 2) (6 page)

River

A
s we pulled up to the gates, his essence drying on my t-shirt, armed guards waved us through. Could they see his stamp? Could they know what we had done? Had Pavel lost respect for me as he climbed back in the car and Ethan buckled his pants?

I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions, and it tore me up. The 'later' where I thought of myself as stupid had come sooner than expected. I watched the drive, with open lawns and mini guard shacks where men nodded as we passed. It was better than looking at Ethan. Better than possibly seeing satisfaction, or worse, disinterest in me.

Ethan’s house was a fortress. Built of stone, the mansion was imposing. All grey and glass, it was a fortress in the center of suburbia, surrounded by forested land to keep it hidden away. By the look of it, there had to be at least three levels above ground, or high vaulted ceilings on two floors. Pavel took us up the driveway under an archway to park. Once there, he got out first before opening the door for Ethan. A tall man with dark blue eyes, black hair, and a charcoal grey suit came up as Ethan climbed out.

“
Vor v zarkone
,” he said to Ethan before he bent and kissed Ethan’s cheek.

“
Bratok,
” Ethan replied.

The man then turned to acknowledge Pavel. “
Avtoritet
.”

“
Bratok,
” Pavel replied before getting back into the car.

I didn’t know what they were saying, but I wasn’t stupid. I saw the respect Ethan got from everyone, and knew his title must have been something like a boss. Since the man who came out bowed and spoke to Pavel as well, I assumed Pavel was under Ethan in rank. I wasn’t sure, but it made me feel better to at least be able to assume little pieces.

“Your room is ready,” the man said.

“Good, Vadim. You will be in her detail.
Derzhat' yeye v bezopasnosti
.”

“Da,” Vadim answered and then stepped slightly behind us, to the left of me.

I looked over my shoulder at him, but Ethan pulled me forward. “You’ll have access to the house later. For now clean up and wait for me in bed. Vadim will show you the way.”

I stopped, pulling my hand from Ethan. “Get in your bed and wait?”

“Is there something about that you didn’t understand?” he asked.

Where was the man from the car? He gave into his desire for me and for those moments, had been kind. I was looking at Pantera. Ethan, the one who asked me if I wanted him to kill my attackers disappeared. The same man who allowed me to work out in his gym under a watchful eye was gone. I didn’t see any softness in him now. No care or consideration, and it made me feel cold.

“Is that all I am?” I asked, balling my fists.

“I thought we cleared this up in the car,” he told me and turned.

“Don’t you dare turn your back on me.” I felt Vadim move rather than saw him as I stepped forward. He gripped my arm and pulled me to a stop.

“Your
pizd
á
needs to learn respect,” Vadim said, spitting the word I didn’t understand like a curse. Ethan whirled around then took three strides before punching Vadim in the nose. Blood exploded as I jerked away. Vadim fell to the ground, spitting blood on the marble floor in the foyer.

“You call her anything close to that again, I’ll kill you. You touch her again I’ll mount your fucking hands on my wall. Apologize.” Ethan’s voice was scalpel sharp and just as hard.

Vadim spit more blood before struggling to apologize as he held his nose. I could see how askew it was and knew it was broken.

“You didn’t have to break his nose!”

“I’ll break more, and he will thank me for it. Now get your ass upstairs and do what the fuck I told you, you’ve caused enough trouble for one fucking night.”

“I am not—”

Ethan jumped in my face, talking to me through gritted teeth.
“You are what I want you to be, wherever, and whenever I want you to be it. I told you there was no turning back, and you stayed. Deal with it, or you won’t like how I do.”

“Bastard.”

“That’s a compliment to what I really am. Vadim, call Sasha and get that looked at. River, up the stairs, down the hall to the left. Our suite is the only one on that side.”

Ethan turned and walked away, knowing I would do as he asked. I was too afraid not to. He was nothing like Derrick, I knew that. Ethan didn’t care to sugar coat the violence he used, or tried to smooth things over. What he did was punishment and he was lord over all those in his world.

And I belonged to him.

I turned and fled up the stairs, no longer caring about looking around the house or learning my way. His words rung in my head and I followed them without fail. A large set of heavy oak doors guarded Ethan’s personal space. I pushed into the room, taking only a moment to look hastily around the red and gold décor before seeing an open door with a large mirror on the wall. I went in and realized it was a vanity area holding a massive walk-in closet filled with clothes.

And some of them were mine.

When I wasn't looking, Ethan made the move for me, orchestrating the way he would take over my life, and I was unaware, playing with his cock on the side of the road like some whore. I stumbled from the room to the next door into the bathroom. It was a spacious room with a big garden tub, separate from the stone-laid shower large enough for several people in it comfortably.

I hated it all. His money, his power, his control over me. And I hated most a part of me had fucking loved how he tore that little shit down for daring to disrespect me. I craved his sort of protection and care, despite the strings attached. It made me sick.

So fucking sick.

Had Derrick trained me, rewired me to like violence, to like control? Was there some part of me that enjoyed my treatment? I didn’t know, and it shattered me. I stripped from my clothes, not wanting to have anything of him on me. I put the water as hot as I could take it and stepped under the spray.

I cried, because I knew when he came into the room, I’d fight him, and then I’d let him take me. Not because I had to, not because I told him I would. But because I wanted him, wanted his strength, and I wasn’t so sure anymore if I wanted to kill Derrick as much as I wanted to feel safe.

And how horrible that I thought I was safe with Ethan when he was the fucking devil incarnate.

* * *

There was a red silk nightgown on the bed when I finally pulled myself out of the shower. And Ethan was sitting beside it. I froze, clenching my towel tighter around my chest.

“I thought you would have enough time to change into it before I got up here, but your shower took longer than expected.”

“I needed it,” I told him, irritated that I felt vulnerable right when I got back on my feet again.

“Why?” he asked. The question surprised me. How could he not know?

“This has all been a bit much.”

“Because you fight it, River. I see how you look at me, how your body reacts to me. You want it River, and learning to go after Derrick may have brought you to me, but it’s not the reason that keeps you here now.”

“You are delusional,” I told him. What he said was too close to what I thought already.

“One of us is, yes, but it doesn’t matter. Come here, River.”

“Give me one night, Ethan.”

“No,” he said, and stared at me.

“Please.”

“Come here.”

I took one step forward, and then another, forcing myself toward him, or maybe fighting to stay away. I wasn’t so sure. Then I was in front of him, covered in only a towel. Until he lifted his hands and gripped it in his fingers.

“This is useless,” he told me, ripping it from my body. I stood before him, trembling with hard nipples, quivering flesh, and dripping wet hair. He placed his hand on my stomach and I felt his heat seep into me through a single touch.

“Mine,” he said.

I felt his brand burn through me. It took everything in me not to say no. I was not his. I couldn’t be. It wasn’t right, it shouldn’t happen, and we couldn’t do this.

“Ethan,” I started, but he grabbed me and pulled me against his body.

“You don’t say no to me, not when it’s a lie. If you ever say it and you mean it, I’ll let you go. Do you really want to say no to me?”

Yes
.

“No. I don’t want to say no to you,” I admitted finally. To both of us.

As fucked up as this thing was between us, I did want it, even if I couldn’t understand it. Even if I was the worst person on the planet for wanting it.

“That’s what I thought. Don’t lie to me, River. Ever. But more importantly, don’t lie to yourself.”

But I knew I would keep lying to myself. Until I got to Derrick, and then I’d be strong enough to get away from Ethan Kendall.

Biting off more than I could chew was usually not my problem. I usually choked it down or spit it out. River I was going to have to choke down.

Ethan

T
here were many things I learned in prison. How to maim, tear apart, and kill men with ease. I learned to use the night to my benefit and stay on top. But I also learned to read people. I could see anyone and within seconds I knew their weaknesses, what made them tick, and exactly the sort of person they were.

River wanted to be controlled.

She craved it, and I could give it to her. There was no doubt the one thing that held us together was that she was willing to admit I could give her the tools to get her revenge. For me it was our deal, she was mine. It was that simple.

But what she craved was something I was more than willing to give her.

It eclipsed everything else.

She belonged to me, and I would make sure she knew it. I would stamp it on her skin, inside of her, and in her mind until she knew it. Her body was amazing. All narrow lines, full breasts, a small waist, and a slight flaring to her hips. Her legs were the thickest part on her, barely guarding the bare pleasure of her pussy from my sight.

“Beautiful,” I told her. And she was. Petite and small standing before me on the edge of fear and need. She hunched her shoulders and placed her hands over her stomach.

“No,” I warned her. She wore badges of her life: four scars left from the gouging knife that spanned from under her breast to below her navel, cigarette burn marks on her hips, and nicks here and there that she couldn’t hide. And I didn’t want her to.

I stood and took her hands in mine. “This is how you will greet me when I tell you to come here from now on,” I told her. I layered her hands over the back of her neck so her back was arched, presenting her breasts. With a small push on her chin, I forced her head up a bit so she held it proudly.

“Every inch of you belongs to me. You will show pride in that. I don’t give a fuck what that mind of yours is telling you. What matters more is this is the body I want, and as such, it is better than any little shit you see. Do I make myself clear?”

She stayed silent, like I knew she would. Defiance and anger warred in her eyes as tears filled them.

“Answer me, River.”

“No. I don’t belong to anyone but myself.”

“Wrong. You have never belonged to yourself, and that’s just how you are. There is always the animal and the prey, River. Accept that.”

She dropped her hands and stumbled back away from me, shaking her head. “I can’t do this.”

“Too bad,” I told her. I was on her in seconds, gripping her wrists in mine and dragging her towards the bed. I held her against my body as she struggled against me. My nightstand was right next to the bed and I used my free hand to open the top drawer before rummaging through for what I needed.

The red silk rope slid through my fingers and I used it to bind her wrists together. She screamed as I pushed her down on the bed and then anchored the rope around one of the bedposts.

“Let me go!”

I ignored her. I didn’t like liars. I hated them. But I hated those who went back on their words worst of all. She would have to learn that lesson tonight. We wouldn’t be fighting this fucking battle every time I went to touch her. I sat down next to her on the bed before I forced her on her knees and held her there.

“We are going to straighten things out, tonight. This will be the last time we have this argument.”

Her ass was in perfect condition, golden, tanned, and high in the air. I wanted to see it rosy, feel heat coming off it under my palm. I slapped one cheek, hard.

“You fucking bastard. You worthless fucking murderer!”

“You pathetic whiner, wanting the world to go your way,” I returned and slapped her other ass cheek.

“I hate you.”

“No, you hate yourself and it’s eating you up. Thing is, I don’t give a shit, but you do. The quicker you let it go, the sooner we can move on.”

“What about Derrick? Is this teaching me? All you wanted me for was a piece of ass. That’s it!”

“And you agreed. Who’s fault is that?” I slapped her again, harder this time. Tears were streaming down her face, but changes were happening. She arched under my hand, she gasped when I struck, and some of the rigidness in her body was waning. She needed this, wanted this, and didn’t know how to ask for it.

She would never have to with me.

“Wake up, little girl. Fight me with more than words. With more than lies. Look how wet you are. How you lean into my touch. You want this shit, as much as I want to give it to you. Say it.”

She bit her lip, refusing to give me the words, but I saw it breaking through her. I spanked her, over and over, switching cheeks. Her ass was red under my hand, my palm stung, and her tears filled the room. My cock was hard enough to snap through my trousers. I wanted her.

Her wetness slid down her thighs, greedily looking for more even as she cried out to get away. It infuriated me.

“Say it. Tell me you want me. Tell me that you want me to fuck you.”

“No.”

Standing up, I placed my hand between her shoulder-blades and forced her chest to the mattress. She was gasping, her hands clenched around the rope until her knuckles were white but she didn’t move out of position or try to get away.

I bent over and nipped her ass, kneading the pain into her skin with my hands before shifting once more. I let the fingers of one hand slip between her ass cheeks, pressing against the hole there and the smooth expanse of skin beneath it. I held her there then forced her legs wider apart with my other hand.

“Let it go, River. Give me the control, and it will all be okay.”

The last hit, I angled between her legs, right over those pretty lips hiding her clit. She froze, everything stopping as she lifted her head and opened her mouth. No sound came out, nothing broke the silence. She was perfect, tied up to my bed, her body on the edge, her mind splintering between where to go. I flicked my wrist, grinding my fingers against her clit, and tossed her where I wanted her.

“Yes,” she screamed, and I felt everything clench. She shook and cried through her pleasure and I held her through it. I scooped her into my arms, ripping the ropes from the bed, and held her through it.

This woman, an intrusion who pushed her way into my world, cried in my arms, and I held her like I wished I had so long ago. She was falling to pieces. I knew, because I had too.

When I hadn’t been the monster, when I hadn’t thought I ever could be.

Ethan, the man I didn’t know anymore, would have kissed her. He would have slid into bed with her and made love, because he had the ability to do so. Instead I held her silently, just held her, because I didn’t know if even my caress would be too rough.

And I realized that maybe I did something I never should have. I danced too close to the flame, and I was burning up. Linked to her pain, her destruction, I saw the man I was now. And the darkness in me wanted to break her and put her back together just how I was until she was nothing more than my plaything. She’d be perfect, easy to control, and easier to toss away.

But that small sliver of Ethan deep inside of me wouldn’t let me, and I wasn’t so sure who was holding the reins. Was it the fucked up soul that was trying to twist her into my image, or the broken spirit that still had more strength in its pieces than I had when I was whole?

The question brought me to my feet. I had to get away. I turned to the bed and lay her down, her sobs lessening as she gave way to a troubled sleep. No one ever looked more perfect, and more damaged, in my bed. I left her there, racing out of the door, taking only long enough to call a man to guard the door before I was running down the stairs to the main floor. I passed through the living room, foyer, and then around the corner to the stairs that would take me into the basement.

There, surrounded by mirrors, I let the beast out. I ripped off my shirt, forcing myself to stare at my own scars. The puncture wounds on my chest and abdomen. Burn marks over my right hip, and more scars from bullets and brass knuckles. I looked at them all to remind myself who I really was.

I couldn’t be the man she needed, and I had no interest in doing so. I would break her, one way or another, and it was that simple. Fuck her killing Derrick; I would do it, and she wouldn’t be any wiser. I wouldn’t make her stronger, I refused to give her the platform she needed to stand on in order to fight back.

Because to do so would mean she could leave me too.

I was a fucking cunt. A liar. A demon of hell.

And I couldn’t apologize for a single thing.

I was supposed to be the very things everyone hated and feared. As I went through my stances, forcing my body through the positions over and over, my anger grew. Who was I to be soft, to give the fallacy of hope? It didn’t exist in the world, and I hated River for fucking with my head. For making me think, even for a moment, that what I became was wrong. For reminding me Ethan was still in there, clawing his way past the muck to reclaim his life.

It wasn’t fucking possible, and I’d break her for trying to lead me down the path to the light.

The light hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. It lifted you up and then tossed you to the ground, only to do it again. The light made you think that you’d survive life without having shit fuck up. I’d been in the light, with dreams for the future, a possible position with a major fight club and endorsements. I had a woman on my arm that I thought would be the one for me, and people surrounding me that loved me. That all disappeared with one fucking action.

One horrible, irreversible mistake. And that was e-fucking-nough to lose everything. For everyone to turn their backs on me and to be flushed down the pisser. My world in East End of London disowned me, tossed me aside without a second glance. Wandsworth released me after they shattered my soul, and my spirit didn’t remember the last time it was whole.

I didn’t want to try to go back. I refused to let it break me. I’d teach River the truth. Kicking and screaming, she’d understand life didn’t get better. My protection, my power, and my good graces were the only things she could depend on. Without me, she would have absolutely nothing.

I’d teach her and then I’d be set. This bullshit obsession would be over and I’d go back to business as usual. I may be wrong to want an angel, but after I clipped her wings, she wouldn’t be so perfect, and I’d deserve her.

At least I hoped that was the case.