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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.
