Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
I whimper, taking a step back.
Saint’s steps match mine, stepping toward me. His six-foot-five frame towers over my five-five. “What in the fuck are you doing, Ash?” he snaps, making me flinch. “What-?” His eyes drop to my bloody clothes. “Jesus!” He hisses, raising his hands to run through his disheveled dark hair. I did that to him when his head was between my legs before he fucked me.
I left him two hours ago. It’s now three in the morning. No doubt he was woken up to collect me. “Who the fuck did this to you?” His voice echoes down the hall.
“Shh.” My lips tremble.
“Are you fucking serious?” he demands. Reaching out for me, he grabs my upper arm and yanks me to him. His clothes now covered in the blood from mine. “Everyone is fucking looking for you. You’re lucky I’m the one who found you.” He drags me back down the hall, letting me know that he has no clue Kashton had found me first upstairs.
“No, please … Saint-“
He spins me around, shoving my back into the concrete wall and steps into me once more, pinning me in place. His large, muscular body vibrates with his anger that I’m not doing as I’ve been told. “Where do you think you’re going to go? You can’t escape-“
“I have to try.” I interrupt him.
He lets go of me and takes a step back. “You’re serious?” His dark brows crease. “You’re going to risk your life to leave here?” His voice softens. “To leave me?”
I swallow the knot in my throat but don’t respond. I can’t. I hate this. Our life. Deciding to leave here was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make, but I have no choice. The Lords always make sure you’re backed into a corner. They live to test you, and if you fail, you’re dead anyway.
I could tell him the truth, but I know what he’s hiding from me. It’s a lose-lose situation. I won’t be the one who gets him in trouble, so I’ll just remove myself from the situation.
He quickly looks me up and down. “I’m going to kill whoever the fuck touched you, Ash. But you’ve lost your goddamn mind if you think I’m letting you leave me.”
Come with me. Those words come to mind, but I can’t make my lips work. Saint will never leave Carnage. This is his home. His world. His future. I’m just a girl he’s fucked. A Lord never picks pussy over his title. No matter that we haven’t already made promises to one another. I knew I’d break mine one day.
I wrap my arms around myself. Not sure why I suddenly need to protect myself. Not from him. Saint is one that I know would never hurt me. Not to inflict harm. Do I allow him to do some fucked-up shit to my body? Yes. But I love it. He’d never torture me for his own pleasure. He’s protected me and saved me from the worst. But I’m no longer safe. He’s no longer my biggest threat in this hell.
He reaches out, his knuckles running down my tear-streaked face. I must look awful because I feel like shit. The action so simple, delicate. It makes me rethink my entire plan to leave him behind. “Sweetheart-“
“They’re down here.” A guard speaks, coming from the stairwell I just came from. I’m guessing into the radio that they have attached to their bulletproof vests. “Morgue.”
And just like that, I’m reminded why I have to get the fuck out of here. I push off the wall and run the opposite direction, and Saint pulls me back. Yanking on my shirt, he practically chokes me. “Ash…”
“Ple-ase?” My legs give out, and he releases me, letting me fall to the cold floor. I start to scoot backward on my hands and ass. My legs kicking out so he can’t grab me again.
“There you are, you little bitch!” The guard runs past Saint and grips my hair. He yanks me to my feet before shoving me face-first into the wall, making me cry out. His forearm presses into the back of my neck, smashing my face and the front of my body into the wall. His beer belly squishes me, and I can feel his dick against my ass. It makes me want to vomit.
“Stop,” Saint barks, pulling the man off me. I take a step back from the wall, sucking in a deep breath. “You don’t have to be so rough with her. She didn’t do anything wrong,” he defends me. That’s one thing about Saint, he’s always got my back. That’s what makes this decision so hard.
The guard pushes Saint’s hand away. “This is your fault.” He points a finger in Saint’s face. “You allow her too much freedom.”
What? Why would he say that? Saint has no control over what I’m allowed to do. Freedom? No one here at Carnage has freedom. Not unless you’re a Spade brother. But even they are called to serve the Lords. They wear the brand on their chest, so they must pay their dues.
Saint, Kashton, and Haidyn are a product of Carnage. One day, the next generation of Spade brothers will take over this hell, and I can’t be here when that happens. The truth is, I’ll be dead before they even get the chance. That’s why I have to get out now. The only person who can save me and the baby is myself.
I can’t hold back the whimper that escapes my shaking lips, and the guard’s eyes slam to me. He reaches up, pushing the button on his radio, and speaks into it. “Bring the jacket.”
My chest squeezes. Please, no. I can’t let them put me in that. They could leave me for days. Forget about me. I’ve seen others pee and shit all over themselves when in that. Not to mention starve. When Saint and Haidyn strapped me in it, it was only for about an hour, and the time I was awake to experience it was torture.
My watery eyes shoot to Saint, and his sharp jaw flexes at the guard’s order, knowing exactly what it means. “That’s not necessary,” he snaps.
“Shut the fuck up, boy. I don’t take orders from you.” The guard dismisses Saint.
“You’re not fucking putting her in it!” Saint informs him.
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to the whore.”
While they argue, I decide this is my best chance. I push to my feet and start to run. The back of my hair is pulled, pin pricks like a thousand needles penetrate my scalp, and I’m yanked up off my feet before I’m slammed down onto the floor on my back. My breath is taken from me, and dots dance across my vision. I roll onto my side, hugging my stomach, coughing as pain explodes behind my eyes and runs down the back of my neck along my spine. My fingers and toes start to tingle from the blow.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Saint shouts, followed by the two of them struggling.
As I get to my hands and knees, a loud bang rings through the hallway, momentarily deafening me. My hands cover my ears to subside the ringing, but it doesn’t work.
Looking up, I see the guard fall to his knees and then flat on his face. The sound of the ringing in my ears intensifies as I watch Saint lower the gun that he must have taken from the guard. He tucks it into the back of his waistband of his jeans, glaring down at the dead guard.
I jump to my shaking legs and slide my back against the wall to get around the pool of blood that grows under the guy. I have enough blood on me already.
“Saint,” I breathe, running up behind him.
“Let’s go.” He grabs my arm and drags me down the hall back in the direction I came from. I can’t do it. I won’t go back. I’m too close.
Yanking his T-shirt up, I grip the handle of the gun tucked into the back of his jeans and pull it out. We both come to a stop, and time slows as I press it into his back, knowing there’s no going back after this.
He stiffens, the thin material of his T-shirt straining against his taut muscles, hands down by his side. Slowly, he turns around to face me. His eyes narrow when he stares down the barrel. “Jesus Christ, Ash. You really have lost your goddamn mind.” He sighs, and his eyes soften with empathy as if I’m that pathetic that he actually feels sorry for me.
I am, but I refuse to become my mother. I will do anything and everything I can for my child. I will put them first and make sure they have a safe and healthy place to grow up. If I don’t break the cycle, then who will?
Tears run down my face while the gun shakes in my hands, but my legs are spread wide, anchored to the floor as if I’m a ship bracing for a storm.
Lifting his arms out to his side, he takes a step toward me, the gun now pressing into his chest, and I take a stumbling step back.
“Sweetheart.” He calls me by my nickname, and it makes me whimper. “We both know that you won’t shoot me. Come on.” He motions with his raised hands to give him the gun. “I’ll be right here with you. Nothing is going to happen to you. I’ll make sure of it.” He’s referring to being punished by their fathers. But he doesn’t know what I know. Not yet, anyway.
No one leaves Carnage. Ever. And those who have tried were caught and never saw the light of day again. The world already thinks I’m dead; no one would miss me if they killed me in here.
Saint adds, “Whatever happened is over, and whoever touched you will pay.” His eyes drop to the bleeding corpse behind me before meeting mine again.
I’ve never doubted what Saint would do for me because I’ve seen firsthand how he protects those he loves. But even I know some things are beyond his limits. I’m not meant to be his wife or the mother of his children. I’m just the whore he uses until she comes along. And that is the hardest pill to swallow. The vows we took will mean nothing to the Lords when they find out he betrayed his oath
A laugh escapes my lips. I feel manic, like a ticking time bomb. The littlest thing will set me off. “Over? It’ll never be over,” I choke out, hating how careless he is. But he grew up in this life. He’s a Lord. His bloodline guarantees he’ll never have to go through what I’ll have to endure. He’s a man. I’m just a whore for them all to use until I rot in this place.
I hear faint sounds of voices, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. They’re coming to take me. And I know one of them has the jacket in their hands. They’ll secure me in it and drag me down the hall by my hair…if I’m lucky. Or like the woman who had the rope wrapped around her neck that they dragged her by.
“Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and hand me the gun.”
Good girl? My knees almost buckle at his choice of words. I’ve always been that to him. I’ve given this man everything I had to offer. His friends too. But my life? At some point, a woman has to stand up for herself and draw a line. This is where I make a stand. I either escape or let them kill me trying. I’d gladly let him kill me than me kill him. But nothing about my life has ever been easy. Especially our love. “Would you kill me, Saint?” I ask, fresh tears running down my cheeks. Maybe they would keep me alive long enough to give birth, but after that? They’d just torture me. “Would you end my life if it was the only way to save me?”
He told me he’d hurt me if it meant he could keep me. But would he kill me to save me?
His head tilts to the side, his features showing his confusion. “No,” he answers softly. “I never want to exist in a world without you in it, sweetheart.”
I don’t know if I should laugh or cry at his answer. But he told me what I already knew-he’ll never let me go.
He reaches for the gun, and I shove it into his chest. He raises his hands, softly chuckling. I suck in a deep breath. “I’ll do it,” I warn, my body trembling but knowing this is my only way out of this hell.
“No, you won’t.” He sighs heavily as if I’ve lost my mind.