Chaotic (L.O.R.D.S. #7) — Chapter no 70

SEV ENTY

EV ERETT

“Can I have a bucket of ice?” I ask, sitting down at the bar as “Comedown” by Bush plays on the old speakers.

The bartender looks at me oddly, and I want to roll my eyes. Where the fuck is Missy when you need her? Probably still passed out at Adam’s house after getting punched in the face last night.

“Sure.” She finally nods, and I go to get cash out of my clutch but re alize I left it in the motel room.

“Fuck,” I hiss. I could go get it but decide not to. He’s going to choke me out the moment I step back into that motel room.

Joke’s on him. I’m looking forward to it. The longer he simmers, the more pissed he’ll be.

I need…something, and I’m not sure what it is. I just feel lost and confused. I need him to make me feel alive. To feel like some one else.

“Everything okay, honey?” the guy next to me asks, sipping on his scotch.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “No. I forgot my wallet.” I hold up my right hand.

“Need to soak my hand in some ice.” It’s starting to swell. My knuck‐ les are bruising.

He frowns, glancing at it. “That looks pretty bad.” I cup it in my other hand, and he gestures to the bartender. “What ever she needs

is on me tonight.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“You can and will.” He winks.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

The bartender brings me a bucket of ice, and I shove my fist into it, hissing in a breath at the frozen water.

“What happened?” He scoots his barstool closer to me.

This is why a woman should never allow a man to buy her any‐ thing. He immediately wants some thing in re turn for it. Even if it’s just your time. He thinks you owe him some thing.

You don’t.

“Got in a fight with my husband.” I hold up my other hand and show him my wed ding ring.

“Oh.” His eyes widen at the size. “That’s…pretty.”

I shrug. “I guess so. Not like it means anything.”

“How did getting into a fight hurt your hand?” he digs more. It’s not that he’s re ally interested. He just wants to keep me talking. If I’m chatting with him, I’m not talking to anyone else.

“Went to hit him and missed. Hit the wall in stead.”

His eyes roam my face, neck, and chest that my dress exposes be‐ fore dropping to my thighs. “Well, it could have been much worse.”

“Meaning?” I know what he’s implying, but I want to hear him say it. It gives me reason to stab him.

“A woman who hits a man can’t expect him to not hit her back,” he answers. “We have to pro tect ourselves too.”

A man like him will say anything to justify any type of abuse. “I guess so.” I drop my eyes to my legs and pull my hand from the ice bucket, cradling it to my stom ach.

I’m not saying I’m any better than a man right now. Did I go a little over board with Kashton tonight? Yes. I just wanted to be alone. I needed a moment, and no one was giving it to me.

But he came for me. That’s what I’ve al ways wanted. For some one to care enough to show up, and Kashton always does.

“Thanks for the ice. I should get going.” I stand from the barstool.

“You’re upset. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

Unbelievable. But I’m not surprised. This bar is known for rapists and human trafficking. Statistics cite it’s usually some one known to the victim. A family member or some one close to the family. They gain your trust and then turn on you when they think they’ve got you right where they want you. The ones who don’t bother to get to

know you are few and far between. All they see is an easy target and a fast payout.

Dollhouse is an excep tion to all the rules. Typically, when you’re kidnapped and sold, traffickers want you out of the country. But Dollhouse pays a pre mium dollar to those who bring in people to be trained. They don’t ask your name or where you come from because they wipe whatever life you had clear away. You become a number and show up on an app for others to bid on.

Then you’re sold to the highest bidder, given a bath, and put on a plane. After that, there’s no hope left. By then, you’re no longer who you once were anyway. You’re just a doll to be stripped down and used.

“I have a mo tel room next door.” I give him a shy smile. “That is…if you want to join me.”

“I’d love to.” He stands, and happiness bub bles up inside my chest.

Maybe this is what I needed.

He follows me across the parking lot and notices the blacked-out Bentley parked out side the room with the personal BLAKOUT license

plate. “Your car?”

“Yeah,” I lie.

“Huge rock and nice car…he must take good care of you.”

I roll my eyes since he’s behind me. Most men believe that you can’t support your self. Coming up to the door, I turn the knob and spin around to face him be fore I open it all the way. “Not always.”

He reaches up and pushes my hair behind my ear. The simple touch makes my skin crawl. “Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

This man thinks he can get me off. If women had half the confi‐ dence in themselves that men have in their useless dicks, we would rule the world. Be unstop pable, I swear.

I turn and shove the door open, stepping inside. The room looks like it did when I left it, except my husband is nowhere in sight.

There’s a black bag on the floor by the dresser that wasn’t here be‐ fore, but that’s it.

“The Kill (Bury Me)” by Thirty Seconds To Mars plays from his cell phone sitting on the dresser beside the TV, so I know he didn’t go far. He’d never leave his phone behind. Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

I turn to the man. “Would you—”

He wraps his hand around my throat, picks me up off the floor, and slams my back onto the bed, cutting off my air.

“I bet you like it rough.” He gives me a sinis ter smile.

You have no idea, buddy.

I buck my hips, and it forces him up off his knees a little bit but not

enough to get out from underneath him.

He laughs. “Feisty bitch.”

I reach up to stab his eyes out, but his arm is longer than mine so I can’t reach his face. In stead, I grab at his suit jacket and button- down. Anything I can reach.

His free hand yanks my dress off my shoulder to expose my bra, and he frowns that I’m not naked un derneath.

Fucking bastard. Where is Kashton?

I arch my neck, try ing to re lieve the pres sure on my throat, but it does no good. My fisted hands punch at his chest, and he laughs, letting go of me.

Gasp ing, my throat burns when I manage to breathe. He gets off me and stands at the end of the bed. He undoes his belt and then unzips his slacks. I take the opportu nity to roll onto my stomach and reach for the lamp on the night stand as he grabs my ankle and pulls me down to the end of the bed. I flip back over and slam it into the

side of his face, breaking the lamp.

“Fuck,” he stumbles back.

I shove my heel into his chest, knocking him into the dresser and TV, causing it to crash to the floor. He trips over it, stumbling around, disoriented.

Reach ing out, I take advantage of his situ ation and yank his belt from his slacks since he had it undone and jump on his back, wrap‐ ping it around his neck from behind and pulling it as tight as I can.

He thrashes around, slamming my back into the mirrored wall be‐ fore he shoves me into a corner, making me grind my teeth at the sharp edge biting into my skin.

His hands frantically try to reach behind him to grab at me, but all he gets is a few loose strands of my hair every now and then, yank‐ ing pieces from my scalp.

“How does it feel to choke, you bastard?” I grind out, re fus ing to let go no matter how much my right hand hurts.

His legs give out and he falls to his knees, and still I hang on for dear life. If I let go, I’m dead. I won’t get an advantage over him again, and I don’t have a gun or knife on me. This is it.

He falls face-first onto the floor just as the door opens. Kashton steps inside and comes to a stop.

“About fuck ing time. Where the fuck have you been?” I bark.

KASHTON “What—” I look out at the bar across the parking lot and then back at her. “What the fuck are you doing?” I step inside, shutting the door behind me. The bed is disheveled, the TV bro ken and on the floor.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” She gets up on shaky legs and falls back into the dresser, running the back of her hand across her drool- covered chin while she tries to catch her breath.

Her dress is shoved up to her waist, and she pushes it down to her thighs before fixing the shoulder strap.

“Are you fuck ing se rious right now?” I demand, staring at the dead guy. At least I hope he’s dead. I kick him to see if he makes any noise, and he doesn’t.

“He came on to me.” She shrugs. “Then he attacked me.”

I set my Crunch bar on the dresser, along with the bucket of ice I got for her hand.

Eve begins to laugh. “I al most died because you were getting choco late?” She arches a brow. “Are you about to start your period, Kash?”

I want to strangle her, but it looks like the mystery man beat me to it because her neck is red and irritated. I move to stand in front of her, pin ning her ass against the dresser, and she stiffens. “You’re fuck ing crazy,” I tell her, cupping her face.

She licks her lips. “Yeah, but you knew that when you met me.”

“I did.” I run my knuckles over her throat, and she leans her head back so I can get a better look at the redness on her sensitive skin

while she tries to calm her breathing.

“And you still love me,” she adds.

“I do,” I agree, and she lowers her head, meeting my stare. “How’s your hand?”

Her green eyes hold mine, and there’s a challenge in them. “How’s

your nose?”

“Not bro ken,” I an swer.

“Mine either.” She places her hands on my hips, pulling me into her.

“I know what you’re doing,” I tell her.

A smile curves the edges of her plump lips. “What am I doing?”

Fuck, I’m obsessed with this woman. She is everything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I want to consume her. Devour her.

“You’re not getting out of your punishment.”

She lifts her right leg, wrapping it around my hip, and I lower my hand to slide up her dress and grip her thigh. “I’ve been looking for‐ ward to that all night.”

Her lips near mine and I move my head to her neck. My fingers dig into her soft flesh while my lips tenderly kiss her racing pulse. The room fills with her panting, and her hands grip my shirt. “Kash, please.”

“What do you need, angel?” I ask her, al ready knowing what it is and that I’m not going to give it to her.

“Fuck me.” She tries yanking me to ward the bed.

Reach ing down, I grab the hem of her dress and pull it up and over her head, tossing it away. She doesn’t even wait for me to re move her underwear. She throws them across the room and steps back

into me.

“Lie on the bed,” I order.

She takes a step back, licking her lips nervously.

“Now. Eve,” I command when she just stands there. What little confidence she had five minutes ago is now gone. “On your stomach with your head at the foot of the bed.”

Turning, she crawls onto the mattress and gets into position. I push the bench out of the way and step up to the footboard. I se cure her wrists to each corner, care ful with the hand she hit the woman with back at Blackout.

I stuff a pillow underneath her hips, propping her ass and cunt up in the air, and then tie each ankle to the corners of the head board.

When she ran over to the bar, I re moved the rope I found in Tyson’s bag and had al ready se cured them to each corner of the bed, know‐ ing what I was going to do to her when she re turned.

She struggles with the ropes, and I come to the foot of the bed.

Crouching down, I sweep her hair from her face, gripping it in my fist and lifting her head off the end so I can look her in the eye when I speak. “What do you want me to do to you, an gel?”

“Play with me,” she begs. “Please.” She pulls on the re straints.

“Do you think you deserve that after how you’ve acted tonight?” I ask.

She bites her bottom lip and closes her eyes.

“Answer me.” I give her hair in my fist a tug, making her whimper.

“No.” She sucks in a ragged breath.

“No,” I agree, letting go so her head hangs off the edge. I undo my belt and pull it from its loops. Dou bling it over, I order, “Count,” then slap it down across her ass.

She cries out, her body tens ing and pulling on the ropes that hold

her down. “One.” She sniffs.

Whack.

“T-wo,” she stutters.

Whack.

She’s gasping, her body trembling, and I smile at the red marks across her round ass. “Three,” she counts through a sob.

Whack. I hit her upper thighs.

“F-four.” She humps the pillow underneath her hips.

“You’re going to be sore tomorrow, Eve. I want you to re member this. Every time you move, I want you to know that I’m in charge here. That you’re my wife and that I control what you do and where you go. Do you understand?” She could have gotten ar rested tonight. What if I hadn’t shown up at Blackout when I did? Would she still have gotten into a fight? I think so. My girl went out looking for trouble.

Whack. I hit her thighs once more and she buries her face in the

end of the bed.

“Five.” She manages through a sob.

My eyes admire her sweat-covered body, loving the fresh bright red marks my belt left. I should do this every night. Just in case she tries to go out on the town with out me. I want everyone to know she’s mine. That I’m her husband. I pro tect her and I own her.

I undo both ankles and she pulls on her arms think ing I’m re leasing them next. “Bring your legs up underneath you,” I order and rip the pillow from under her hips. “I want your ass and cunt in the air for me to see.”

She lets out a cry of pain as she gets into the new position. I smile, knowing it’s stretching her freshly welted skin.

Undoing my zip per, I pull my hard cock out and get onto the bed, spreading her legs far ther with my knees, slowly sliding into her.

Loving her attempt to keep me out.

Leaning over her back, I command, “Open your mouth.” I shove my belt behind her teeth, forc ing her to bite on it. Then I bring it around her head and slide the leather through the buckle, pulling it tight. I grip the excess in my hand, holding her head in place.

My other one slides between her trembling legs and feels her pussy. “You’re soaked, angel. Getting your ass spanked turned you on. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you acted out on purpose.”

She mum bles around the belt, and I smile to myself. Pulling my cock out, I look down and watch it disappear into her tight pussy.

I groan. “Fuck, Eve.” My breath catches and I pull back before slamming forward. Her back arches more, and I pull on the belt, forc ing her head back. “Don’t come.” I growl. “This is about me. Not you.”

My girl acts out in order to be punished. She knows I’m not going to take it too far. This isn’t about hurt ing her. It’s about controlling her. My free hand slaps her ass right over one of the marks from my belt, and her cunt grips me in re sponse. I do it again and she cries out around the belt in her mouth. “You’re doing so good, angel,” I tell her. “Taking my cock like a good whore.” I pull out and push for‐ ward. “Feel your pussy sucking me in?” I do it again. “You need me, angel.” I smack her ass again, and she begins to shake uncontrol‐ lably. “You better not come. If you do, I’ll tie your legs down and take my belt to your ass again.”

I’m panting and she’s crying. I pick up the pace, slamming into her cunt while my one hand holds the belt and my free hand grips her ass. My eyes drop to watch my slick cock fuck her.

Pulling my jeans up, I fas ten them and then run my belt through the loops. I glance up to see her standing at the sink, staring down at her phone, her ass and thighs red from what I just did to her while my cum drips from her pussy. She didn’t get off. I’m going to make her beg me for that later.

My girl always does this. She’s able to avoid telling me what I want to know. I asked her about Adam, and she slammed her head into my face to get away from the conver sa tion. There’s only one thing I

need to know. “Do you love him?”

“What?”

I walk up behind her, turn her to face me, and her breathing accel‐ erates. I grab her phone from her hand and place it on the counter, wanting all her attention.

I take her flushed face in my hand, forc ing her eyes to mine. “Do

you love him?” I re peat.

“Who?” she asks, swallowing nervously.

It doesn’t matter if she does, she’s mine. And like Sin once told me, he’d kill a brother for his wife. I’ll do the same if mine tries to take her from me. “Adam.”

That gets her attention. “No. Why would you ask that?” Her eyes search mine.

Letting go of her, I step back and push the bench back to the foot‐ board of the bed and sit down on it. “He called me and said you were upset, and when I tried to talk to you, you completely shut me out. You took the time to go see him but won’t talk to me about it.

There has to be something there, Eve.”

“There’s nothing there. I…” She hangs her head and sighs. “I don’t re member sleep ing with him.” Glancing up at me through her lashes, she sniffs. “After Evan…” She looks away. “Things started to come back to me. But even after Adam showed me the picture, I still don’t re member.”

“Picture?” I question. What the fuck does she mean by that?

Eve walks over to the dresser and opens up her clutch. Pulling out a picture, she holds it out to me.

“Adam gave you this?” I demand, looking over it. My jaw clenches.

What the fuck? He didn’t tell me that he had this.

“Yeah. He said Haidyn gave it to him.”

“Haidyn has seen this?” I jump to my feet. “When?”

“Yes,” she answers softly. “Something about Isabella and blackmail.

But Haidyn didn’t know that was me. Probably still doesn’t.”

I run a hand down my face and toss the picture onto the dresser, face down.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffs, and I turn to face her. Her tear-filled eyes look up at mine where she now sits on the bench. “I’m so sorry, Kash.”

I kneel in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “It’s not your fault, Eve.” I’m not happy she’s slept with Adam, or that he has a fuck ing picture of it, but I don’t blame her for what she did before I found her. What I hate most is that my brother has had the past four years of her life. If I had just tried to find Adam, he would have led me to her. In stead I wasted time.

“Don’t you understand? If I can’t re member sleeping with Adam, there are probably oth ers that I don’t re member.” Her bottom lip starts to tremble. “I tried so hard to not have sex…After Dollhouse… my body…” Her shoulders shake. “I never wanted it until you. That night on theIsabella…you saved me from that Lord. You make me feel better…about myself and what I like. I didn’t want to be a whore…I want you to be the only man I’ve ever slept with. I’m so sorry…”

“Angel.” I sigh, get up to pull her into my lap, and sit down on the bench. “You’re not—”

“You’re the one I love,” she interrupts me, tears slowly falling down her cheeks. “I prom ise. It’s you, Kashton. It’s always been you…”

“It’s okay, Eve.” I try to ease her conscience as I hold her tightly to my chest.

“And tonight. That woman was talking in the bathroom with her friends about sleeping with you and getting you to knock her up—”

“That’s never going to happen.”

“It just re minded me of what I can’t give you.”

How long is she going to beat herself up with this? The rest of her life? Probably. But I understand, it’s her biggest fear. And our fears have a way of settling in the back of our minds. So whenever she thinks of it, I’ll re mind her that it’s noth ing to worry about.