Redeemed (The Dark Redemption Series Book 2) (11 page)

Aden

After my confession, Blair gets up and walks away without another word. She disappears into the bedroom she shared with Brede and shuts the door. Shuts me out.

I deserve no less. God, I’m such an asshole.

Brede cares about her, maybe even loves her, and I took from him the one thing he’ll never have.

Her first time.

I tainted her, spoiled her for him. And he’ll forgive and forget because he’s my brother, but Blair probably never will.

Maybe that’s why I told her, so she’ll hate me. She should. I tied her up and fucked her selfishly to make my inner monster happy. And, damn, he loved every single demented second of being inside her tight, virgin pussy. Especially since I knew my brother wanted her. He could’ve taken her sooner, but he didn’t, because he cares about her.

The truth is that, when it comes to sex, I’m still that twelve-year-old confused boy. I love and hate being intimate with someone, loving the pleasurable high I take from another person’s body, and hating that I take enjoyment in my perversion, whether it’s tying up a virgin to fuck her, or being the very first one to top a straight man. I’ve done that more times that I’ve been with virgins. Of course, I always used condoms with them, but that doesn’t mean I’m clean other than being free of disease. Inside, I’m disgusting for being the asshole who takes their virginity and runs, having no use for them after the first time. It’s sick and twisted, and even if I feel guilty about what I do, that doesn’t mean I’ll stop. This is the life I live, and I’m never going to change.

Blair and Brede think they can fix me. But they’re wrong. I can’t be fixed. And the worst part is, I’m not even sure that I want to be fixed. I like the hunt and the taking too much to stop. Even now, days after taking Blair’s virginity, I want another person at my mercy, giving me what can only be taken once in their lifetime. My evil cock is hard just thinking about it. I could try to jerk off, but eventually, that won’t be enough to make me come. I’ll be in a perpetual state of arousal until I find another willing victim and force my cock into their virgin ass or pussy. God, I love the sounds they make at that moment I take it, and then I revel in the pleasure that overcomes me, knowing they may regret it later, but they can never forget it. They’ll never forget the way I felt pounding inside them their first time while they surrendered themselves to me.

…

Brede

I clench my fist and then plow it right into the motherfucker’s gut.

“Ow, fuck,” he grumbles drowsily. Good, he’s awake.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Dalton,” he mumbles.

“Dalton?” I repeat.

“Dalton Kincaid.”

“So, Dalton, we’re gonna play twenty questions,” I tell him, leaving off the part about at the end of the game he dies. He’s bound to know as much by this point. I’ve got him tied up to a chair in a seedy hotel room. His leg is still bleeding profusely, although I wrapped a torn sheet around it. I need him to live long enough to answer my questions.

“First off, who the fuck sent you?” I ask, pacing in front of him while holding his gun next to my thigh.

“Nadia Taylor,” he answers right away.

“Glad to see you’re gonna be cooperative on your death bed.”

“If I’m done… then so…is she,” he explains.

“Right,” I reply. “So who the fuck is Nadia Taylor?”

“Assistant…district…district attorney in Lexington,” he stutters.

“No shit?” I ask. “What’s her relationship with DA Lockhart?” I ask.

“Her…fiancé and…and boss.”

“So she was giving you orders from him?” I ask.

“No. Wants him…dead…too.”

“She wants her fiancé and boss dead?” I exclaim. “Seriously?”

Dalton nods.

“What about his daughter?”

“Needed…her dead…first. No heirs.”

“
She
put the hit on Blair Lockhart?” I ask in surprise. All this time, Roger referred to the “DA”, and I thought he meant her father. I’m starting to believe he was talking about the up-and-coming DA who wanted to take his place and his money after she married him and had Blair killed.

“Yes,” he answers.

“So why the fuck did you kill two innocent people?”

“Money…wanted money…back,” he replies, sounding even groggier with his narrow chin slumping to his lean chest. Time’s running out.

“Were you supposed to kill them for the money?” I ask, nailing my fist into his liver and making him cough in pain.

“Wanted...you dead…whatever it took.”

“That worked out well for you,” I reply before I put his own gun to his forehead, I don’t hesitate before pulling the trigger.

Fuck, it’s messy. And killing him in a hotel room without a silencer isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m not thinking clearly. It’s not like I could’ve taken him back to the room I share with Blair and Aden. Fuck, even after I quickly wash the blood off of me and walk out of this shady motel, I know I can’t go back to our hotel. Not yet.

My emotions are all over the place, and I’m…unstable. I need food or sleep. The need to kill is all that’s driving me right now, and Blair and Aden don’t need to be a part of that. I’m not thinking straight, and it’s possible Roger and Dalton’s deaths are gonna come back on me. Besides, I’m not done yet. Nadia fucking Thomas is gonna die first. I just need to find out where the hell that bitch is.

Until then, Blair and Aden are also in danger. Just like my parents were.

The guilt is a living, breathing thing, tightening around my chest and throat, trying to squeeze me to death. No one I care about will ever be safe.

The stupid foil pill wrapper jabbing into my thigh only serves to remind me of the life I desperately wanted to create with Blair because I’m constantly surrounded by death. And I’m the only one to blame for that.

How fucking stupid was I to think that I could have a family with Blair? That shit is never gonna happen, and the sooner I end things with her the better. If I can put distance between her and Aden, maybe they can forget me and have a life together. He’s the opposite of me, a man on the right side of the law. Aden can protect his family the right way, while all I’ll do is put them in danger, until every last one of them end up dead like Paula and Jim.

Pulling out the unused pill still wrapped in foil, I toss it in the first trash bin I come to outside the hotel room, along with everything it represented.

Shit, that’s depressing as fuck.

When did I start wanting things I can never have anyway?

Probably the day I fell for an angel.

For a moment she made me think I could be something other than a killer. She saw me as her hero, and I’m an idiot for believing I could save her.

Staying away from her will be the best I can do.

Aden

God, I’m so fucking horny.

That’s usually what happens when I’m stressed out. Fucking gives me the control I need when there’s chaos in my life.

But I’m stuck in this hotel room with Blair, who’s basically pulling her hair out because we still haven’t heard from Brede. Besides, I took her virginity, so she’s no good to me. Unless…

“Baby girl, calm down and come have a seat,” I say to stop her pacing.

“Something’s wrong, Aden,” she says instead, repeating that same phrase for the millionth time.

“Tell you what, relax and settle down until tomorrow morning. And if we still haven’t heard from him, I’ll go with you to his foster parents’ house.”

“You will?” she asks. “Why can’t we go now?”

“We need to give him a little more time,” I tell her. “Now, come here. Let me rub some of the stress out of your shoulders.”

She stares at me silently for several long seconds before she blows out a breath. “Fine,” she mumbles when she relents and starts for me.

“Actually, why don’t you go stretch out on the bed so I can get to all the knots,” I suggest, standing up in front of her.

“Um, okay,” she agrees, practically swaying on her feet when she turns around and heads for the bedroom. She has hardly slept at all in two days, but I’ve been sleeping pretty well. Brede’s a big boy and a bad-ass assassin, so I’m not worried about him like Blair is.

Following her up onto the bed, Blair stretches out on her stomach, so I climb on top of her back, straddling her hips. Pushing up her dress, I reveal her back and bare ass since she’s not wearing any panties. Jesus.

“I-I need some new clothes,” she murmurs from where her head is buried in the pillows.

“We’ll get you some tomorrow,” I promise her. “Now relax.”

I start up high, despite my desire, kneading my thumbs into Blair’s tense shoulders.

“Feel good?” I ask after a little while.

“Yeah,” she says around a yawn, and the tension in her body relaxes further into the mattress.

My thumbs press around the muscles that are still tight along her spine, trying to work them out and loosen her up more.

Lower and lower I go, until I get to her ass. Without pausing, I continue right along, squeezing her ass cheeks.

“Aden?” she questions.

“Relax,” I remind her, while trailing my fingers down her crease until I get to her pussy. Blair squirms underneath me when I slip a finger inside her tight, wet, heat.

“What-what are you doing?” she asks, going still. I’m not sure if her question means she wants me to stop or not, especially when she moans. Unsure, I ease another finger inside her and slowly pump them both in and out. Lowering myself down along the length of her, I start kissing and sucking on her neck as I finger fuck her until I can’t take anymore.

Sitting up, I push my fingertips against her puckered rim. Her body bucks even harder at the invasion as I work the two wet fingers, slick with her juices, insider her ass. I keep forcing them inside, stretching her for my cock. God, she’s so fucking tight, too.

“Aden!” she cries out.

Undoing my jeans, I push them down my hips to free my cock and then stretch out over Blair again, rubbing my hard shaft through all her wetness before positioning myself at her virgin hole.

“Aden, no!” Blair exclaims before she maneuvers out from under me, moving further up the bed. Her back finally comes to a rest against the headboard, her knees drawn up to her chest as she tugs her dress down to cover herself.

“Come on, it’ll feel good, I promise,” I tell her as my chest rises and falls, needy and desperate after being so close. Grabbing both her ankles, I pull her toward me and push her knees to her chest to line up my cock up again.

Blair continues to squirm underneath me, but I know she’ll like it once I’m inside her…

…

Blair

Oh. My. God.

For the past few days since Brede’s been gone, I’ve started to think Aden has a few screws loose. Now I’m certain of it as he tries to shove his cock in my ass.

I struggle to get away, but he just keeps yanking me back to him again, and now, even as I protest and try to get away, his blue eyes seem vacant, like he’s not hearing me…

“Aden, stop!” I yell again, but he ignores me.

Reaching over to the bedside table, I stretch my fingers to grab the ceramic lamp and then bash it over his head. His body relaxes limply down on mine after the first hit, thank goodness. Wiggling out from underneath him, I try to figure out what the fuck to do.

I’m sure as hell not gonna stay here in the room with this man.

Yesterday, I started thinking he may have more mental issues than even I do. First of all, Aden talks to himself, like all the time. Sure, I may have conversations with myself, but they take place quietly inside my own head. Aden speaks aloud, and I think he refers to himself in the third person as Aaron. Actually, the one- man show is so confusing that I’ve tried to ignore it.

The strangest thing, though, is how he refers to people on the phone as his boss or whatever; and yet when he went to shower this morning, I snuck a peek at his phone, which showed only recent calls to and from a Dr. Allen.

But I can’t worry about him right now since he’s apparently more dangerous than I thought. After I slip on my shoes, I ease Aden’s wallet from his back pocket, only feeling a tiny bit guilty for knocking him out and stealing from him after his assault. Opening the leather wallet I find several twenties, which is surprising since he told me he didn’t have much cash. I take two of them, hoping that will get me to Brede’s parents’ house and that they’ll be able to tell me how to find Brede if he’s not there.

I’m tired of waiting around, and I’m fed up with Aden. I should’ve known he was up to something when he started being all nice instead of his usual, antsy self.

Thankfully, a cab is waiting idly in front of the hotel’s lobby, so I give him the turn-by-turn directions to Paula and Jim’s, hoping I remembered the way correctly.

When their small, one-level brick home comes into view, I ask him to pull over, giving him one of my twenties.

I knock on Paula and Jim’s front door, but there’s no response. And when I twist the doorknob, it easily opens without resistance, sending my already racing heart into overdrive.

Okay, that’s not a good sign if they’re leaving the door unlocked. Cracking it open, I tiptoe inside and glance around the living room. My movements instantly halt, at the same time a gasp escapes my lips when I see him.

Brede.

My first thought is, thank God, he’s alive.

My second though is, oh shit, because, at the moment, he’s slouched in the recliner with a big, mostly empty bottle of amber liquor in one hand and a gun in the other. Actually, the gun is pointed directly at me.

“Hey,” I say, my palms rising in the air as if it’s an automatic bodily function when someone’s holding you at gunpoint. “Are you…are you okay?” I ask when he doesn’t respond to my greeting. His icy blue eyes are glassy and completely absent of the Brede who saved me and held me just the other night. “Brede?”

This man before me looks dark and dangerous, like the smoker who walked into the pawn shop that first day. In fact, there’s also the distinct smell of cigarette smoke in the room, which shocks me since I wouldn’t think he would be so inconsiderate as to smoke inside his parents’ home.

Oh no!

Tearing my gaze from Brede’s unblinking, unemotional stare, my eyes flit around the room, and that’s when I see them.

The dark, unmistakable stains of blood on the beige carpet.

One puddle is a few feet away, and another is on the other side of the living room near the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. There’s also a small reddish stain next to my feet too. That’s when I realize that the house is way too quiet.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out something horrible has happened here.

God, Brede.

He’s mourning his parents.  

Trusting that he won’t shoot me, which I’m not a hundred percent certain of, I’m still unable to stop myself from moving closer, wanting to comfort him. The stupid gun never lowers from his grip, balanced on the top of his jean-covered leg. When I eventually reach him, I kneel down in front of his spread thighs, resting my head against his knee, only inches away from the gun muzzle.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him through the tears streaming down my face, remembering how nice Jim and Paula had been, how much they obviously loved Brede like he was their own son. And now they’re gone, and he probably blames himself for whatever happened. I wish he would talk to me and tell me what’s going on. “I’ve been so worried about you,” I say into the silence.

When he doesn’t respond with words or a single touch, I cry even harder, gripping his jeans because he feels so far away, even though I’m touching him. My Brede is gone, replaced with the cold-hearted killer, and I’m not sure if I can ever get him back.

Lifting my head, I come face-to-face with the barrel of the gun he refuses to put down.

God, what am I gonna do? Call Aden to come over? I’m not sure he’ll be able to help, and then I’ll have two big, unstable men to deal with.

“Fuck,” I mutter as I lower my forehead to his knee again. Brede doesn’t move a muscle, but he’ll have to eventually, right? So, I’ll sit here and wait, however long it takes.

Time passes while I cry and silently beg him to say something or touch me. When he eventually speaks, I’m definitely not prepared for the harsh sound of his deep voice.

“
Leave
.”

My body jerks painfully with that one word.

A single raspy word from his lips, and my heart crumbles. It hurts so fucking much that I can’t breathe. While I would rather be beaten and tortured before leaving him, he doesn’t want me near him.

No, I’m not gonna let him push me away right now while he’s in pain. I stay where I am, on my knees in front of him, surrounded by blood stains that remind me of the worst day of my life.

It was devastating and traumatic to watch my mother die in front of me as a child, but I don’t think it would have been any easier if I had been an adult. To lose someone you love is like losing a piece of your soul that you know will never be replaced. Those first few years I felt so empty without my mother. I still do, but maybe I’ve just gotten used to having a hole inside me.

For Brede, he had his anger when his father went off to prison and his brother was separated from him. They were only temporarily removed from his life. Now, he must be struggling to try to find a way to cope with the pain of permanently losing not one, but the two people who raised him.

“
Get the fuck away from me
.”

More gruff words, but they don’t hurt as bad because I know he doesn’t mean them. He wants to be angry at me or the world, anything to feel something other than the ache inside.

“No,” I say, tilting my head so that my cheek rests on his thigh and I can see his face, trying to make him look at me. Only his dark, empty eyes continue to remain focused on the front door.

“
Get out
!” he yells louder.

“No,” I reply more adamantly and then gasp when the cold steel of the gun suddenly meets my temple.

“I oughta do it. Kill ya now and get it over with,” he says, slurring his words because of how drunk he is.

“You blame me,” I reply in understanding, a sob wrenching from my throat at the realization. “You should. If you had just killed me…”

“Fuck you!” he screams, pushing me off of him with his fists still holding the bottle and gun, hard enough to cause me to fall backward from my kneeling position and land on my ass. “You made me want everything when I can’t have it!”

I’ve never been so happy to have someone yelling at me. This is much better than the statue Brede was when I walked in. I was the numb, silent girl for years. So if he can already grab ahold of any other emotion, then maybe he’s not as lost as I was.

“Well, fuck you too!” I shout back at him. “Instead of killing me you made me want you, and then you disappeared for days, going through I don’t even know what alone! I would rather you kill me than push me away.”

“I can’t kill you,” he mumbles before he finally drops the gun to the floor. “Someone else will, though, and then I’ll have nothing.”

Oh, thank God!

The breath I’ve been holding since I walked through the door whooshes out in relief as I finally understand why he’s upset.

“I’m safer with you,” I tell him. “And you’ve still got Aden and your dad who love you too.”

“They’re gonna die. Everyone I love dies. God’s punishing me. If I hadn’t killed those assholes…”

“No, Brede.
You’re
punishing yourself. If there’s a God, he condemned the lives of the men you killed because they deserved it! Your parents didn’t, but that’s not your fault.”

“I sent them the money! I led them back here, so their deaths are on me!”