Madness: Part 2 – Chapter 9
I fall into the driver’s seat of my white Rolls Royce Cullinan and yank my door shut. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. God, I knew he’d be a fucking prick. All the Lords are, but damn, I didn’t expect him to be this difficult. Or this intimidating.
My pulse races at the way he touched the buttons on my shirt. It was innocent yet threatening at the same time. It was like he was warning me. Then what he said to me—the only way I’m going to talk to you is if you’re naked and on your knees with a gag in your mouth.
Jesus Christ!
I’ve never been spoken to like that. I mean, I know how the Lords are and how they treat women, but is it supposed to sound so good? A part of me wanted to call his bluff just to see what he’d do. Would he force me? I’m not sure why that thought excites me, but it does.
I’m not going to leave him alone. I can’t. So he can do whatever he wants, but I’ll keep returning because he’s my assignment. If I want to get to the top, I’ll crawl under him. It’s that simple.
Digging out the new cell the Lords gave me along with my laptop from my purse, I send an email to the UNKNOWN Lord. They know exactly who Haidyn is, and they know that I can’t work miracles. They understand it’s going to take time. They called this a marathon, not a sprint in an email I received last week. Their words, not mine. They’ve been wanting updates on my new life and obviously approved because here I am.
I’m guessing they’ve got something on him but won’t tell me what. How am I supposed to get information from him if I don’t know what I’m digging for?
Starting up my SUV, I pull out of Carnage and head back toward town. It’s secluded and out in the middle of nowhere. They don’t want the world to see who they are. The Lords are very secretive, and the Spade brothers are even more so. They are the shadow figures who hide in the middle of the night watching you. You know they’re there, but you can’t see them. Evil always hides in darkness. That’s where it feels safe.
Entering my house, I first change into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Then I get on my bed and pull out my laptop. I open the email I was sent last night and review the photos. They’re of him. One shows him standing by a black Lamborghini. He wears dark-wash jeans, black combat boots, and a white T-shirt. He’s got a lit cigarette in his right hand and his cell in the other. The second picture is of him on a motorcycle while pulling out of the gates at Carnage. He has no clue that either picture was taken. Why would he, though? They all think they’re untouchable and don’t pay attention to what’s around them.
Haidyn Jamison Reeves. It outlines his life in four words—killer, Carnage, Spade brother. That’s it. Like what the fuck? I knew that already.
I’m not a therapist. I have no schooling in that field whatsoever. So I’ve been watching videos of sessions on YouTube and other sites. I’m not getting much. The only thing saving me is that this isn’t a normal situation, so I don’t think he expects me to be professional. Especially after the way he spoke to me about being gagged and naked. The Lords use sex for everything. He’s a man, and I’m a woman. Of course, he’s going to expect me to crawl to him with my mouth open wide, ready to serve. Based on how wet my thong is, I’d say my pussy thinks that’s a great idea.
HAIDYN
Charlotte Lynn Hewett is a licensed therapist who graduated from Barrington three years ago. She’s twenty-five, five-two, and a hundred and ten pounds. It’s amazing what you can find on the internet. It’s also very easy for people to put bullshit online.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
She’s pretty young to have her position, especially since she doesn’t belong to a Lord. The lack of a ring on her left finger proves she’s not a Lady.
“Where did you guys find Charlotte?” I ask Saint, walking through the basement.
“The Lords recommended her,” Kashton answers since Saint currently has a knife in some poor bastard’s back while he hangs from the ceiling.
“Suggested?” I question.
He shrugs. “I don’t know, man. We were given a list, and she was at the top. Jessie made contact and set it all up.”
I run a hand over my face, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Tell them to fuck off. I’m not seeing her.” As much as I want to fuck her, I’m not in the mood to deal with another therapist.
The guy hanging from the ceiling has tape wrapped around his head, but it only muffles his screams as Saint runs the tip of the knife down the man’s back, right next to his spine. His skin splits like butter, and blood begins to flow down his naked body. The chains rattle from his jerky movements.
“They’re not going to let you stop.” Saint finally speaks, stepping back and looking proudly at the bleeding man.
“Why don’t you two have to seek therapy?” I growl.
“Because we didn’t try to kill ourselves.”
“I’m not suicidal!” I bark.
There’s nothing that I’ve done that I can’t live with. I might not have chosen this life, but I made up my mind when I was younger to make the best of it. I’ve only ever killed one person who didn’t deserve to die, but I don’t regret it. It was what was best for her.
Kashton arches a brow. “Are you sure?”
Saint snorts. “The Lords think otherwise.”
I roll my eyes. “How many times do I have to say this? I don’t—”
“Remember how you ended up on the floor with your wrists cut open like a fish.” Kashton interrupts me. “However, I remember it perfectly since I was the one who found you.” His eyes narrow on mine.
He’s still mad at me because he thinks I was leaving him behind. Kashton has abandonment issues. But don’t we all? A Lord grows up in a family with more power than God, yet we’re literally alone. Kashton and Saint are the only people I can count on, and although I don’t remember how he found me practically dead, I know for a fact that I’d never leave them. Not willingly.
“That’s better,” Saint says happily, spinning the naked guy around to face him.
I give them my back and head up the elevator to my room. I’m not in the mood for that shit today. Coming up to the birdcage—the floor we all share—I scan my thumb for my room and enter, slamming it shut. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I look down at my wrist. You can’t see the scar because I have it covered with ink. I know it’s there even though I can’t remember how I got it.
“HAIDYN?”
I hear my name shouted, but it seems to be far away.
“Haidyn! What the fuck did you do?” Again, with the annoying voice, but it sounds so familiar. “Come on, man.”
I just want to sleep. I’m so tired. All of a sudden, it feels like the world is shaking, or maybe it’s me.
“Goddammit, Haidyn. Why did you…” It sounds like they’re walking away, or maybe I’m finally falling asleep.
It doesn’t matter. Either way, I finally have peace and silence.
That foggy memory of Kash finding me was years ago. It was after Ashtyn ran, and we finished our six months of “training.” The Lords thought they broke me, but I assure you, they didn’t. You can’t dish out punishment and not expect to receive it in return.
The professionals say the mind blocks traumatic experiences on purpose. I say it chooses to forget what isn’t important. Who knows which one is actually correct.
It doesn’t matter to me, just the Lords. They will take you out for betraying your oath, but if you want to take yourself out…that’s a different story. They don’t like you having any sort of control over your own life.
They own you.
You live for them, and you die for them.
As if I’d give them the satisfaction of killing myself. I’m just not that kind of Lord. I like making others suffer. And if that means staying alive, then I’ll do anything to make that happen.
Getting to my feet, I enter my adjoining bathroom. I yank my shirt up and over my head and toss it to the floor. Reaching down, I undo my jeans, but my eyes catch sight of myself in the mirror.
I look like shit. I have dark circles around my eyes, and I look like I haven’t slept in days. I haven’t, but that’s beside the point.
They want me to give my secrets to the pretty brunette. Want me to spill my insecurities and shortcomings so they can use them against me. That’s what the Lords do. They use anything they can against you. I won’t do it.
She’ll give up eventually. Probably quicker than the others have. She seemed innocent. A few comments about fucking her ass and making her cry will get her to run away.
If not, then I’ll up my game. I’m always up for a challenge.