Outcasts (Badlands Book 3) Page 2

  What I saw was the lack of a wall, freedom from a life of being a Stepford wife, and popping out babies for a man twice my age.

  I didn’t see how damn naïve I was.

  I didn’t see myself befriending a tiny blonde who was a full blown psycho beneath her flawless exterior. I never foresaw the path my life would take from that day forward.

  I made a life changin decision, and I ain’t have the foresight to see how drastic it would be.

  I could have never foreseen all the ways I was goin to suffer on a precipice of insanity, before death finally gave me peace.

  Chapter Two

  Present

  Red wine scented breath was on my neck. There was pressure between my legs and a weight on my chest.

  Lucidity washed over me and I knew I’d been drugged again. The stiff mattress beneath me barely creaked as he thrust in and out. Raw. He was always raw when he forced his cock inside me when I couldn’t give consent. My fingers twitched as my body became as awake as my brain.

  I did my best to ignore his groans of pleasure, feeling the acid bubblin in my stomach as I had no choice but to lie wide open. I felt like a starfish, sticky and stuck.

  Willing all feeling to come back, I flexed both fists as a test, reacting before it had fully sunken in that I could move.

  “Get the fuck off me, Noah!”

  So caught up in releasing the pleasure in his tiny balls, he hadn’t realized I was awake. His face was the perfect picture of surprise as he fell onto the floor, leaving behind a nausea-inducing wetness between my thighs.

  “I was almost done,” he sighed, as if I’d majorly inconvenienced him, already grabbing for the Cattle prod I could never get to in time.

  “You’re a sick fuck!” I closed my legs and sat up, preparing to fight him off best I could if he tried comin at me again.

  I wouldn’t rush him. I’d learned my lesson the first and second time he’d shocked me with the damn stick in his hand—the one he acquired after he had to have me pulled off him. The first time we fought, we were like two men in a ring goin for a championship belt. His precious ego hadn’t taken that loss too well.

  That’s when the prod came into the picture. He’d blindsided me with it, shocked the hell outta me and brought me clean to my knees. I never wanted to be on the business end of that thing again.

  If I ever got a hold of it, I was gonna jam it straight up his ass and fry his shitter from the inside out.

  “Petals, I don’t know why you deny what’s between us.”

  “Ain’t anything between us, you sick, shrivel dicked asshole.” I glared at him. He shut his eyes and sighed, tightening his grip on the prod. You’d think I would’ve learned to shut the hell up, considerin my mouth is what got me in this situation.

  “Petals.” He sighed again.

  I curled my lip at the stupid name. Why the hell did he choose it?

  He muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath, and wordlessly readjusted the ridiculous white robe he always wore. His father’s order had been disbanded, largely thanks to him, so I didn’t see his point at first, but after being stuck with him for so long I’d overheard quite a few things I shouldn’t have.

  “Denial can only hold out for so long. You know you’re not leaving me, so you might as well make the best of our relationship.”

  He stared at me expectantly, and I stared back in pure disgust.

  I hated him. Not just for what he did to me, but what he’d done to Cali, too, the sweet girl who was supposed to be his sister, turned out she wasn’t, but that was still damn sickening.

  I hated him touching me the way he did. I hated this feelin of helplessness.

  “You’re pathetic. Get out of my room.”

  Swiping a hand through his short, dark hair, he frowned and gave a shake of his head. He looked nothing like Romero, his brother. And they couldn’t have been more different.

  One was a rat placed in a maze and made to do another’s bidding, while the other was the head of the Savages. Romero was a king, the very devil I’d heard so much about, and the Badlands was his personal hell.

  After a brief hiatus, he was back, and making that known to everyone and anyone who tested him with my newfound best friend, Cali, at his side.

  Noah desperately coveted the power Romero had. He wanted the adoration and loyalty his brother’s acolytes willingly gave.

  He would never have it. What was it with men in their need to have big ol dick measurin contests? Noah was strong, but debilitated next to Romero. He was occasionally smart; Romero was ten times smarter.

  None of that had stopped his thirst for his brother’s throne, and that, in its self, made him a damn fool.

  Not to mention the army that stood between him and making that happen, and the other key players he’d have to go up against. Last time I pointed all that out, he almost punched my head off my shoulders. Lesson learned.

  “I’ve been trying to make it work between us for the past three weeks. I don’t know what else to do.” He went to the door, keeping his front towards me so I couldn’t jump him from behind, the prod out in front of him like a shield. “You’ll change your mind by Thursday morning.”

  The door was open and shut with him on the other side before I could ask what he meant. I didn’t even know what day it was.

  One lock clicked, followed by the second, and then finally, the chain was slid in place.

  As soon as his footsteps faded, I was off the bed like a fire had been lit beneath my ass, straight into the lemon scented bathroom.

  It was tiny with dull yellow tiled flooring, and only contained a toilet and sink, but all I needed was running water and a bar of soap.

  Turning the little silver knob with an H embellished on the top, I grabbed one of my wash rags from the wicker basket Noah had placed on the toilet’s tank.

  Steam rose from the stream of water. I drenched the rag, fighting the urge to pull my hand back even as it shook uncontrollably from nerves and turned a dark pink from the heat. My heart was beating so fast, I thought for sure it was going to come right through my chest.

  “Ignore it all,” I whispered to myself.

  I rolled my lips together in a firm line to keep the hysteria ready to empty from my lungs quiet. I’d cried too many times already—ugly, terribly loud sobs.

  I wouldn’t give him any more of my tears. I couldn’t, anyway; the pain was there, but the well had run empty.

  I never let Noah see how severely his actions sabotaged my psyche.

  It excited him and made things worse for me. I’d yet to decide if it was a small saving grace when he raped me and I awoke to feel nothing but the come and soreness he left behind, or a disadvantage not to feel everything from the beginning.

  There were times I woke up. Others, I didn’t. Often enough, he woke me up for the pure entertainment of fighting his way inside me. I’d been taken advantage of so many times at this point, I wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. I just wanted it to stop.

  I’d never felt more trapped than I did now, and sometimes I thought I deserved this.

  I was the one who ran away from home, so desperate for a taste of freedom.

  Watching my uncle be cut open and dismembered for a family of cannibals’ weekly supper wasn’t penance enough.

  I didn’t miss the city, though—not even a little bit.

  I suppose life was now punishing me for the company I chose to keep. She was a mean bitch like that.

  Grabbing the soap and making good use of the rag, I began to vigorously scrub between my legs, ignoring how badly it burned. I had half a mind to shove the soap inside me to clean away where he’d been.

  I was so damn grateful his intent wasn’t to get me pregnant. He made me take a contraceptive with the only drink he allowed me to have—water.

  It was always a gamble if he’d laced it or not, but it was either risk pregnancy by refusing the liquid, or drink it to receive the pill.

  I was real familiar with the packag
e it came in. My ma made me take the same ones.

  As far as I knew, they were only available in Centriole. To get something like that in the Badlands, you would need a pretty penny or solid connection. The fact that Noah had some told me more than he might have thought.

  That kind of thing is what made him so stupid. He had loose lips, and never seemed to realize I heard everything that went on when I wasn’t drugged. Didn’t he know I was foe, not friend?

  I retained as much information as I could because I still had a small sliver of hope I’d be gettin out of this shithole. I knew if it were up to Cali, she’d have stormed the building with a take no prisoners approach already, but she wasn’t in any position to do that. She was growing a baby.

  She may not have been some mushy sentimental person, but I knew she wouldn’t risk her child—nor would Romero ever allow it. Not for me. And I didn’t want her to. She was Romero’s queen—quite literally.

  The man had a nasty attitude and seemed made of stone, but he adored her. I was envious of that. I didn’t think epic love was in the cards for me, though.

  The only person I’d ever felt drawn to like a magnet wasn’t really a relationship kinda guy, and there was a whole unrequited mess between us.

  Shutting the sink off, I wrung out my rag, avoiding my reflection. I didn’t want to see the shame looking back at me. After re-positioning my slip—the only clothing Noah allowed—I went back into the bedroom.

  The four wood paneled walls were different than the teal ones that had surrounded me a month ago.

  According to what Noah had just said, we’d been here three weeks, which meant we’d be moving again soon. He never stayed in the same place for long. I had no real measurement of time in regards to how long he’d had me, but I estimated a solid sixty days, minimum.

  Crawling onto the bed, I avoided the place my legs had just been sprawled apart. I drew my knees to my chest, and rested my cheek on them, staring at nothing.

  The room was barren, aside from the bed and a small round coffee table.

  The only window had a thick piece of plywood across it to prevent me from escaping or seeing out—probably both.

  I sat there in that dimly lit cell with nothing to distract me. I sat there for minutes, hours, maybe even days, and with nothing to busy myself with, my mind ran wild. I never knew silence could be so loud.

  I missed my friends.

  And I missed him.

  I missed my shadow, the reaper at my back who watched over me without wanting anything in return. I could make myself blissfully and deliriously numb to my surroundings if I filled my every thought with nothing but Grimm.

  If I saw him in a dream, he was always torn away when I woke again, and I was never ready to say goodbye.

  I’d honestly expected him to come for me out of everyone else, but he hadn’t shown up yet.

  Noah’s ominous taunt became the focal point of a slow growing paranoia. I had no idea what he had planned for me. I wasn’t adept at dealing with things like this.

  I told myself to think positive thoughts, but the hope I kept a firm grasp on was beginning to slip through my fingers.

  Chapter Three

  Nothing tragic happened that morning.

  I woke from the sound of the door clicking shut with heavy sleep in my eyes from fighting it off for so long. A silver tray with oatmeal and a fruit cup sat waiting for me on the coffee table—another regularity, and my only breakfast option.

  Noon came around, bringing me closer to whatever it was Noah wanted. I was able to pretend all was fine for a few minutes as I brushed my teeth and hair.

  My actions may have seemed pointless, but I knew I needed to eat for my own well-being, and keeping somewhat clean was my way of refusing to fall apart completely.

  I guess you could say it was a façade.

  As soon as I was done, I was left with the same problem I always had: nothing to do but sit on my ass and wonder what was gonna happen next. I leaned back on the bed, listening to the movement throughout the house we were holed up in.

  I heard multiple voices, but that was nothing new. I theorized all the possible scenarios as to what Noah could be up to in the long run, but continued to pull a blank.

  Keeping me was strange in itself. He knew who I was, and made no effort to contact my father for a ransom or power exchange. He’d once said I was his collateral, a reason for Romero not to hunt him down, but that didn’t explain much, either.

  We both knew if his brother wanted him dead, he’d be dead.

  With no way of knowing what time it was, I tried to use basic math as a timetable for when the sun traded places with the moon. Still, nothing happened—not right away, anyway.

  I was half-asleep when they showed up; four men I’d never seen strolled into the room with Noah right behind them.

  My danger radar immediately went through the roof, as did the tempo of my pulse. I could nearly feel it in my throat. All of em had on the usual dark jeans and dark shirts men in the Badlands wore, but they were too rough around the edges to be anyone Noah regularly associated with.

  “What is this?” I asked, sitting a little taller and pressing my back flat against the worn headboard.

  “Petals, these are my new friends,” Noah announced, making his way to the front of the little group, prod in his hand.

  “We both know damn well you don’t have any friends. Cut the shit and tell me what’s really goin on.”

  Two of the men laughed at my accurate assumption, while the biggest one gave me a smile full of surprisingly white teeth. That’s what I got for jumping to conclusions.

  He looked rugged.

  Looking at him a little closer, I took notice of the tattoo on his neck—a V with a black snake intertwined around it. I also realized he was much older than I was, but his overall hygiene didn’t seem bad.

  None of that explained why they were in the room with me. I looked at their faces, and suddenly had an inkling of where this was going.

  Their aura was menacing.

  The way they were lookin at me was as if they were starving and had just found a five-course meal.

  “You definitely don’t look like any Kingdom bitch we’ve ever seen,” one of them commented, dropping his heated gaze to where my nipples were easily seen through the white fabric of my slip.

  My stomach knotted in a million different directions, and a dull ache resonated through my entire body. I felt like one of the raccoons Dad used to catch in tiny metal traps. I had no way of escaping; I was stuck with danger staring me straight in the face.

  “Why are they here?” I asked Noah directly, ignoring the quad.

  He opened his mouth to answer but the man who smiled at me held up a hand, shutting him up.

  “Arlen, my name’s Vance. This is my brother Rex, and these are our boys, Hawke and Vitus.”

  He aimed a thumb at each of them without taking his eyes off me. Him knowing my name wasn’t the least bit surprising.

  Anyone who paid enough attention to any form of press knew I was the Regent—or, as he liked to call himself lately, Mayor—of Centriole’s daughter.

  “What do you want with me?”

  “Well, I asked Noah here to show me he could make good on his word.”

  At my blank stare, he chuckled amusedly and partially turned to clamp the man he’d called Vitus on the shoulder and pull him forward.

  “It’s my boy’s twenty-fifth birthday, and Noah promised some exclusive one-on-one time between you two during a round of cards the other night.”

  “I’m not his to promise.” I glared at Vitus. If he was really twenty-five, that sat him only six years older than me, but I could tell just by looking at him that whatever happened in his daily life had matured and hardened him beyond his age.

  He had dark curly hair and a solid build. He stared me down with odd bluish-green eyes, one side of his mouth lifting into a grin when I scowled.

  “Alright, everybody get out.” His gruff demand was met wit
h laughs from everyone but Noah, who had the audacity to look slightly concerned.

  Nonetheless, he wordlessly trailed after the others as they filed out of the room, leaving me alone to fend for myself.

  “You know, you’re a lot prettier in person,” he said , inching closer to the bed.

  I edged away, wanting him nowhere near me.

  My voice may have remained steady, and I could bravely look these men in the eye without crumbling to pieces, but that was only because my mouth seemed to move without approval from my brain half the time.

  That ridiculous thing called pride wouldn’t allow me to beg for mercy.

  In all actuality, I was absolutely terrified. Natural fight or flight instinct had my entire body tensing in apprehension of what was to come. “There are plenty of pretty girls you could go and play with. Why pick me?”

  “None of those girls are you, Arlen.”

  I scrambled off the bed, keeping as much space between us as I could. Fightin him wasn’t the brightest option. That would do nothing but wear me out or get me hurt.

  Vitus shook his head and held both his hands up like he was surrendering. He was quick to hold a finger to his lips when I opened my gob to ask what the hell he was doing.

  He continued moving towards me in the same pose, giving a slight shake of his head when I side eyed the bathroom, easily understanding my intent. I took two steps back but didn’t have room to go further because of the wall.

  “Listen, forcing women to spread their legs isn’t my forte, and I don’t want to today, but my pops won’t be very happy if I walk outta here without getting what we came all this way for,” he whispered lowly, stopping an arm’s reach away from me.

  “How’s that my problem? That seems more like a personal issue.”

  “It’s actually just an issue for you. I’m trying to do the right thing. They’re outside that door, listening, so you can get on that bed and willingly lie on your back for me, or I can do things the hard way for both of us.”

  What type of compromise was that? He was getting what he wanted either way. My only options were to fight and ultimately lose—