Redeemed (The Dark Redemption Series Book 2) Read online

  I wait until we’re out of the neighborhood before I even ask.

  “How?”

  “House key under the potted plant on the stoop,” Blair says with a shrug that ramps up my anger even more. “That’s where my mom always kept the spare.”

  “So you just waltzed right on inside, not thinking about someone waking up and, I dunno, fucking shooting you?” I snap, tearing my eyes away from her because I’m too pissed off by her recklessness to even look at her beautiful face right now.

  “It’s a woman’s car,” she says. “So I looked for a purse, and there the keys were, just like I did in Maryland. No biggie.”

  “No biggie,” I mutter, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “No biggie like you driving away earlier tonight in a stolen car, and then wrecking it.” I leave out the part about how stupid it was for her to try and play along with Roger, because honestly I don’t know if she had any good choices to make before I got there. If she had tried to get away, he would’ve choked her out. If she had laid there unmoving, he would’ve fucked her. That was a no-win situation that I can’t fault her for, except for how she ended up there in the first place, by taking off in the stolen car and wrecking it!

  “Are you mad at me?” Blair murmurs.

  “You think?” I scoff.

  “He was just worried about you,” Aden speaks up and says from the front, followed by a yawn. “We’re all exhausted and cranky.”

  “Cranky?” I repeat. “What I am goes way past cranky!”

  I swear to God, I think she still has a death wish. Is this how my life is gonna be from now on? Worrying every second of every day that the one girl I’ve ever cared about may end her life? This must be hell on earth because I can’t think of any worse torture than wondering if she’s gonna hurt herself and knowing that one of these days I may not be there to rescue her.

  Asking myself if she’s worth that sort of nerve-wracking life is still a resounding yes. She’s worth the full-blown panic attacks she keeps giving me, because if something were to happen to her, I can’t even imagine...

  I wonder if our dad went through something similar with our suicidal mother. Did he know she wanted to end her life and try to stop her, all but the one time she succeeded? That’s definitely something I’ll have to talk to him about soon, hopefully when he’s released from prison.

  Maybe that’s another reason why I desperately want Blair pregnant, to give her another reason for living. Although, that obviously wasn’t enough for my mother to stay alive.

  Leaning my head back against the seat, I close my eyes to try and take deep calming breaths. In through the nose; out through the mouth. Is this what it means to care about someone? That you go fucking insane from the constant fear, knowing something bad could happen to them at any moment? Knowing that you could lose them forever in an instant and the pain would never go away?

  “I’m sorry,” Blair says from beside me. And when I feel her palm brush over my stomach before sneaking up underneath the bottom of my shirt for skin-to-skin contact, every thought in my head short-circuits. Her soft-spoken apology and my quickly swelling cock make it difficult to remember what I was just so upset about. Especially when Blair’s soft, damp lips press against the skin just below my collarbone.

  While I want nothing more than to fuck her again, I refuse to do so for at least a day or two, until there’s no longer pain, only pleasure when I’m pounding my cock inside of her. No condoms, my appendage adamantly roars. Now that he’s had a taste, he’s craving it raw, Blair on her back, or me on mine with her riding me so good that I have no choice but to fill her pussy with my cum...

  “No condoms,” I mutter in agreement.

  After Blair’s lips and hand abruptly leave me, I realize I spoke the words aloud. My eyes blink open so I can find her hand in the darkness, reaching over to grab it and shove it back up my shirt. Her slightest little touch may always cause an instant sexual reaction, but it’s also soothing like no one else’s touch before.

  Turning my head to glance at her face, there’s a cute crease between her eyebrows like she’s confused.

  “You can touch me. I just meant no more sex until we get some condoms,” I try to explain away my comment since I can’t come out and say that I like the idea of her barefoot and pregnant. She would obviously think I’ve lost my mind for thinking such a thing. Maybe I have, because she’s so damn young, and her life hasn’t exactly been easy. But I’ve known since the first time I saw her that I was a goner. I’m just now realizing exactly how bad I’ve fallen for her. Unless I’m reading her completely wrong, I think she cares about me too, despite how horrible I’ve been to her. So if I can overcome my asshole tendencies and give her something worth living for, she might even agree to a future for us. Which makes me want to hurry up and kill her father so we can move past all this bullshit as soon as possible.

  Chapter Four

  Blair

  As soon as we walk into our hotel room or, more accurately, Brede carries me since I still don’t have any shoes, he heads straight for the bathroom, only pausing long enough to set my photo album down on the desk. I don’t even get a chance to take a look around the room before I’m standing in front of a massive Jacuzzi tub.

  “We upgraded for this bad boy,” Brede explains as he lifts my dress over my head.

  “Thanks,” I tell him as he turns on both faucets to start filling it up.

  “You can act tough all you want,” he says when he turns around and lowers my panties down my legs. “But your pussy needs to soak and not be fucked again for a few days.”

  He’s right, of course. The stinging sensation I felt when I first sank down onto his cock caused my eyes to tear up. But then, the pain faded into the background as the pleasure built, growing stronger until it was overwhelming and I had the most intense and wonderful climax ever. Not that I’ve had many, but, wow, having Brede deep inside me felt so right. But once he lifted me off of him, I was empty again. Despite the ache, I already long for him to fill me again.

  “There are other places you can put your cock in me,” I say before thinking. I barely refrain from slapping a palm over my loud mouth as Brede’s eyes momentarily widen before he grins.

  “Fuck yes, baby. I gotta say, I love that dirty mouth of yours, especially when it’s sucking my cock,” Brede tells me with a wink. And then he starts to undress, revealing his muscular chest and abs, covered by beautiful tattoos, before unleashing his long, thick cock, causing a surge of liquid warmth between my legs. When he takes off his pants, there’s big bloody gash on his calf and several other small ones around it.

  “What happened?” I ask Brede as he grabs a wet cloth and scrubs the dried blood away.

  “Just a few scrapes from the glass on the window.”

  “Window?”

  “Yeah, I, ah, kicked one in back at Roger’s place because I didn’t know if the door was unlocked and knew there wasn’t much time,” he replies while focusing on the task of cleaning his leg.

  Picturing him shoving his boot frantically through a freaking window to get to me turns me on even more than seeing him naked. He was worried about me. Wait…

  “How did you know where I was and what he was doing?” I ask.

  “Aden had the place bugged. We heard…”

  “Oh my God,” I mutter as I sit down on the lid of the toilet, my face burning in embarrassment as I remember what happened before Roger almost choked me to death. “You, um, heard that?”

  “Baby, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You were tough as fucking nails,” Brede says, coming over to pull me to my feet and kiss my forehead. “Now don’t ever think about that shit again,” he tells me before lifting me off my feet and setting me down into the tub halfway full of warm water. After I sit down, Brede joins me, settling in behind my back, causing the water level to nearly reach the top. A few seconds later, he reaches and turns the faucets off.

  The silence that overtakes the room is calm and relaxing, so I lean my he
ad back against Brede’s chest and let him run the wet, soapy washcloth over every inch of me, taking care of me. I could get used to this, after not having anyone around for so long. Now there’s Brede and Aden…

  “I’m sorry you have to deal with all this shit,” Brede says into the silence.

  “It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” I tell him. Every shitty thing that’s happened in his life is because of me. “I bet you wish you’d never met me.”

  The washcloth in his hand pauses on my raised knee.

  “Baby, do I act like a man who wishes he had never met you?” Brede asks, his husky words next to my ear.

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “Don’t go silent on me now,” he says. “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you suddenly a Chatty Cathy?”

  “You and Aden know the truth,” I tell him. “I never talked to anyone at the hospital because I was scared that once I opened my mouth, the truth would start spilling out and my father would find out. And then with you, when we first met, I didn’t want you to know the truth about what a lying coward I am.”

  “That’s not what I think.”

  “Aden does,” I assure him.

  “Look, Aden had a rough childhood. His foster family hurt him, made him fucked up. They molested him, which is why I think he doesn’t want to be touched.”

  “Oh my God,” I mutter, my chest aching for him. “It’s all my fault. If he hadn’t been taken away from you and Ben…”

  Brede lifts me out of the water and turns me around until I’m straddling his waist.

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself for those sick bastards hurting him. It wasn’t your fault. Your father framed my dad, not you. You were a kid, so even if you had told the world the real story, they wouldn’t have believed you over him.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell him, burying my face in his neck because I can’t bear to look at him.

  “I don’t want you to do anything out of guilt,” Brede says as his hands stroke soothingly up and down my back. “And I’m not crazy about the idea of seeing you with Aden. But if anyone can get through to him, to be gentle and understanding when he needs it, it’s you. Do you think you could do that?”

  “Of course,” I tell him. “I want to help him, to make him forget his past. I don’t even mind if he restrains me until he’s ready for me to touch him without getting upset.”

  “You sure about that? You seemed pretty shook up last night when he had you tied up.”

  “I was feeling vulnerable and confused. He wasn’t very gentle and left without holding me or untying me. I was scared. And I…I regretted being with him and not you my first time.”

  “I do too, but I forgive you,” he says before placing a kiss on the side of my head. “It’s my own fault for leaving you. I was just torn on being honest with you about why I showed up in town, and I was lying to myself about how much I cared about you. But I want to be with you, so please don’t go running off again, even if you think you’re trying to help us. We’ve got to talk to each other and work together.”

  “Okay,” I agree. “Help me make everything right, saving your dad, Aden, being with you, all of it. And I want you to kill my father, before he finds us.”

  “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. God, you have no idea how terrified I was at the accident scene. They told us you were dead. And then I didn’t think I would make it in time before that asshole killed you…”

  “But you did. You’re my guardian angel,” I tell him, kissing his chest while he chuckles.

  “I’ve been called an angel, all right, but not the guardian kind.”

  “Really?” I ask, sitting back to see his face. “What are you called?”

  “Azrael.”

  “Azrael?” I repeat.

  “The archangel of death,” he says. “I have forty-nine kills from the army and the mercenary jobs I’ve had since. No, make that fifty after tonight.”

  “Fifty. You’ve…killed fifty people?” I ask in shock.

  “Fifty men who were pieces of shit,” he says defensively. “Some of the worst men out there. I could tell you horror stories about the shit they had done in life before I ended them.”

  “I’m not judging. I’m glad you killed Roger. It was either him or me,” I assure him. I always knew Brede looked dangerous, and I was right, but he would never hurt me. Which makes me wonder… “So why did you come after me in the first place?” I ask.

  “I needed the money to send my foster parents. Paula’s kidneys are failing, so Jim can’t work while taking care of her. They would’ve lost the house.”

  “Oh,” I say in understanding. The money my dad gave him to kill me went to a good cause at least.

  “We need to go to Louisville, because if the money’s traced to them, they’ll be in danger since I –”

  “Wanted to fuck me instead of kill me?” I supply.

  “Yes,” he answers, stroking his hands up and down my back. “I was gonna fuck you and then kill you.”

  “Wow,” I mutter in surprise as my heart plummets to my stomach. “Why didn’t you?” I ask.

  “Because the thought of you taking your own life scared the shit out of me. I knew then that there was no way I could do it myself,” he explains. “Fuck it all, but I was probably lying to myself before that. I’ve never killed a woman. Dozens of men, but not a single woman. When I saw you for the first time that’s probably when my conscience decided I would rather be your savior.”

  And that’s the moment I knew I had fallen in love with the man who was supposed to kill me.

  My avenging angel.

  Chapter Five

  Aden

  After ditching the stolen Mazda and wiping it down for fingerprints, I come back to the hotel room and pace along the empty space in front of the two queen beds until I hear the water in the tub shut off. Standing frozen, staring at the door, I can’t help but think of how Brede’s touching Blair on the other side. And how she probably doesn’t ever want me to touch her again after what I did to her. And I deserve nothing less. I’m sure Brede doesn’t cringe when she lays her hands on him.

  My body gives an involuntary shiver at the thought. The idea of anyone touching me nearly sends me off the deep end. My breathing becomes shaky, so I sit down on one of the two queen beds, and then exhaustion has me falling backward on it.

  For four years I was only touched by my foster brother and sisters, a whole slew of strangers, mostly girls, but some boys, not because they wanted to, but because they were told they had to in order to avoid beatings with my foster father’s belt. I spent those years feeling guilty and…confused. It was wrong to enjoy what they were manipulated to do to me, especially because I knew all too well how demeaning it felt to be on the other side. I dreaded those nights when my foster father would come to the room I shared with Tyson, my one year younger foster brother, to “teach” us through hands-on training to be better lovers. That is the main reason I can’t stand anyone’s hands on me. There’s the constant memory of being trapped, forced, beaten until all the fight was taken out of me. After that, he could do anything he wanted with no one to stop him.

  Rationally, I know Blair couldn’t ever overpower me. But having a woman’s mouth or hand on my cock only reminds me of how disgusting I am and all the times I had to perform for my foster father’s perversion while he watched, usually through the camera lens. I hated him because it felt good while at the same time made me feel like a monster. It’s too painful to go back down that road, so the only way I could be intimate with Blair is with her hands tied, never touching me, while I take control, doing only what I want to do with her. And now, because I took her virginity that way, like the psycho-sexual deviant I am, she’ll probably never let me lay a finger on her again. Not that I really want to. Instead, I’ll have to watch my brother fuck her, like in the backseat, hearing her moaning like she can’t get enough of him or his cock. Jealousy doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.

  Lis
tening to the tub start to drain, I figure the lovebirds should be coming out of the bathroom soon. I don’t move from my spot, flat on my back on the bed. They can have the other bed. Although, there’s a part of me that wishes I were normal so that I could have Blair in bed with me for more than sleeping

  The bathroom door opens, causing the steam to come billowing out into the room. Blair and Brede walk out smiling, both of them still naked. Without thinking, I sit up and blurt out, “I’m sorry”, to Blair. “About earlier, leaving you like that,” I add to clarify.

  The two of them both stop at the foot of the bed I’ve claimed, so I stand up and cup Blair’s jaw. When she leans into my touch, instead of cringing away, I let out a sigh of relief that I haven’t ruined her.

  “I-I was just confused,” she says, the words easily rolling off her tongue, unlike the first night when I almost had to beat them out of her.

  “You thought I didn’t care about you. But I swear I never meant to hurt you,” I assure her. “And when I thought I had…I ran.”

  I’m surprised when she closes the space between us and kisses me with Brede standing naked beside us.

  “Whoa,” I say to stop her when her hands reach for my shoulders. Grabbing each of her wrists, I pin them down by her hips while I keep kissing her. She likes it too. I hear her soft moan before she arches her back to rub her bare breasts against my shirt-covered chest. Just like that, I’m hard, my cock swollen and aching, wanting another turn. Especially after seeing Brede fuck her in the backseat, so free and uninhibited. My eyes cut over to find my brother’s reaction, and he’s…jerking off.

  “We can share,” he says, to which my only response is to pull away from Blair, my jaw falling open in shock. “What? Didn’t we have to share everything growing up?”

  “She’s not a fucking toy,” I reply, and then I realize my hand is rubbing my own bulge underneath my zipper. I try to stop, I swear I do, but my hand has other ideas.