Consumed (Blood Ties Book 9)

Six months…that motherfucker had known about this for six fucking months? I lifted my head and glanced into the rear-view mirror to Helene, to find her staring out the window. I wanted to say something, anything to ease her goddamn pain. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do a damn thing but push the accelerator all the way to the floor and head to the meeting.

But…goddamn him.

I turned from her reflection and focused on the road.

Goddamn him all the way to Hell.

I lost myself in the streets of the city as I made our way to a bar downtown. I turned into the almost empty rear parking lot and pulled into a space near London’s Audi.

The Sons.

I killed the engine and climbed out of the hulking, slowass piece of shit and closed the door. I took the opportunity to scan the lot, the exits, and the cars parked in the shadows. They were out there, watching, waiting. At least that savage blond-haired motherfucker. The beast one would no doubt be at home…protecting the one person they all cared about.

Sister to the woman I was one day going to marry…my Helene.

I opened the back door, watching for movement as she stepped out. My pulse sped the second she was near, just like it had the moment I’d climbed from my car and saw her lying in the street. Because I was going to marry her. She belonged to us, but it was my ring she was going to wear. By hell or high water, it was my ring, our name…our future where she’d find herself. I wasn’t going to let her slip away from me. Not again.

“This the place?” Kane asked.

“It’s where he told me,” I answered coldly.

Hunter took a step, scanning the parking lot and the alley, no doubt picking up on the same details I had before…

“Cruz,” St. James’ deep rumble came from the rear of the dark club.

I turned around, reached for her, and placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her toward London. We knew nothing about these assholes. Nothing apart from the name Lawlor.

We headed for the door and stepped into the darkened club.

“You want to tell us what this is about?” I muttered, scanning the dark tables.

“Just keep walking,” London commanded.

Four men and a young woman waited at the rear of the club. The men didn’t turn when we approached, but the woman did. She was young and fresh faced, with innocent eyes…one by one, the heavy hitters turned, cutting me with a cold, dangerous stare that reminded me too much of St. James. I glanced back at the woman, poor bitch. She wouldn’t stay innocent for long.

“I’d like to introduce you to the Lawlor brothers,” London started. “This is Baron.” He motioned to a chisel-jawed motherfucker with a hard stare. “Royal, Atley, and Wolfe. This is Helene, Riven, Kane, Hunter, and Thomas Cruz.”

They said nothing. Just a nod my way before Baron shifted his focus to Helene. “Ms. King.” He reached out his hand for hers. I fought the need to tighten my grip.

But she took his hand, giving him a smile. “Mr. Lawlor…Lawlor Diamonds, right?”

His smile widened, but those shifty fucking eyes flicked my way like a goddamn snake. “Yes,” he answered, giving her his full attention. “Are you in the market for one?”

Then my goddamn hold did tighten. I cleared my throat and stepped forward, moving my focus to the young woman who stood quietly between them. A woman who looked awkward as hell amongst the towering assholes in crisp, unbranded suits. No, there was no Armani with these guys. I turned my focus back. I doubted you’d find a single brand in their entire wardrobe. It was all allowed with these men. All perfection molded around their heavy frames.

I smiled, shifting to her once more. She trembled, her heels tottering like she wasn’t used to wearing them. “You look frightened, don’t be frightened. I’m sorry, I missed your name.” I reached out my hand.

Her eyes widened before jerking to Baron, then the others. There was a tic in Baron’s jaw before he swung that fake-ass motherfucking smile my way. But I saw the real look under the lie. Revulsion. Hate rippled in his stare. The motherfucker hated me and for the first time in my life, I didn’t know why.

“Cloe, why don’t you take Helene and show her the gem London just purchased for her sister? I’m sure she’d love to see it.”

“For Vivienne?” Helene’s voice rose. “Oh my God, show me.”

No woman could resist beautiful things.

Especially if it was in secret.

But that fucking asshole was playing us. No, he was playing me. I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “You got a problem with me, motherfucker?”

“Gentlemen,” London murmured. “Not here.”

I jerked my focus to London. What the fuck was going on here?

But London didn’t give me anything other than his steely stare as the young woman reached for Helene’s hand. “You have to see the four-carat pink diamond. It’s my personal favorite.”

Helene didn’t want to leave, glancing from London to Baron, then to me. I gave her a nod. “It’s okay.”

She didn’t like it, but she allowed herself to be guided to the bar, just out of earshot. I waited until the young woman unrolled the black velvet pouch and spread the jewels out, the sparkle reaching us here.

“Through here,” London said carefully and turned away, heading toward a door that connected to a separate seating area through a glass wall.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Helene glance our way before the young woman touched her arm, drawing her focus back. I followed London and these rich assholes into the room, my brothers close behind.

Lawlor took a seat, leaving London to stand on the other side of the table.

“You might want to close that.” Baron glared at Thomas, who was the last inside.

My brother glanced my way, waiting until I gave a nod. He wasn’t wearing his black shirt and clerical collar. Strange, but now wasn’t the time to ask him why. I turned around as the door closed. Through the glass, Helene looked our way.

I strode forward, bracing my hands on the end of the table to glare into the asshole’s eyes. “Want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“We need to know one thing before we start,” London said carefully.

My cheeks burned as I waited. “What?”

“Did you rape Helene?”

I flinched, then jerked my gaze to London. “What the fuck did you say?”

He winced, then settled into that cold-heart-bastard act he’d perfected.

“Did you drag her into a room at The Order?” Baron growled. “And hold her down while you and your men took turns?”

What.

The.

Fuck?

Ice cold rage plunged all the way through me. Baron glanced her way, finding her as she turned around, watching us. It took all my strength not to lunge over the table and—you know what? FUCK. THIS!

I cocked my fist back, driving hard and fast over the table. London and my brothers hurled themselves forward, but they were too late.

Crack!

My fist glanced off the smarmy asshole’s cheek. I grabbed his shirt, wrenching him forward until his eyes grew savage and dark. “Say that again,” I snarled. “And you’re a fucking dead man.”

“Come on!” London yanked me away, throwing me aside. “Get control of yourself. Jesus Christ! It’s not him who’s saying it!”

I tugged my shirt, drawing in hard breaths. “What the fuck are you goddamn saying?”

“This morning I received a text from Hale.” Baron stared me down, his cheek reddening. “A video actually. One where you and your men brutalized that woman out there.”

I stopped, instantly feeling the warmth bleed from my body. “A video? What fucking video?” He never moved. I jerked my glare to London. “What goddamn video?”

“Show him,” London said, watching my every goddamn move.

But I didn’t care about that…all I cared about was her. A video of me and my men? Did he mean my goddamn brothers? It was consensual. It was all fucking consensual. There was no way I’d hurt her. No fucking way.

I looked through the glass wall to her. She was watching us, her back to the young woman now, totally absorbed by what was going on in this room. She couldn’t know. No fucking way did I want her dealing with this.

I turned back to the big-mouthed fucker as he pulled his cell free and brought up the messages.

All I saw was a number. No name…that meant no contacts.

But the moment he opened the message to the video, it wasn’t the one I was expecting.

“No…NO!” Helene screamed.

“Turn it off!” I growled as rage plunged through me.

“NO! NO NOOOO!”

“Get her on the table.” I said on the screen.

Only it wasn’t me…IT WASN’T FUCKING ME! I lunged, slapping the cell clean out of his hand. “I said, TURN THAT FUCKING THING OFF!”

One of the other Lawlors eased backwards in his seat, his smug smile just itching to meet my fucking fist. “I told you this bastard was for real. All the fucking rumors were true.”

Don’t lose your shit.

Don’t lose your shit.

“You think that was Riven?” Kane stepped forward, then bent down and grabbed the cell from the floor.

I shook my head. “Don’t…don’t waste your goddamn breath.”

“Please, by all means…” the asshole called Wolfe muttered. “Waste it.”

“You know,” Kane said in his doctor’s voice. “You’re right. We’re wasting our time here.”

“He’s sent that to everyone.” Wolfe’s eyes glinted, watching my every move. “Everyone knows you dragged her to that room and you held her down while your men violated her. You’re dead after all this is done. You get that, right, motherfucker? You’re…fucking…dead.”

I froze as every vile sin I’d ever committed came to take its pound of flesh. I’d known one day they’d all come back and drag me into the hell I deserved. I closed my eyes. But not this…please, God, not this.

“What’s going on here?” Helene slowly asked.

I slowly opened my eyes, staring at the bastards.

No one looked her way…they couldn’t.

My words were husky and raw, burning all the way down. “You don’t want to be in here, Trouble.”

She stepped closer. Please, for the love of God, don’t touch me. I’d break. I knew that. I’d fucking shatter into a million pieces with the simple brush of her hand and weep like a goddamn child.

But she didn’t touch me. Instead, she stepped closer. “If I’m going to be the topic of conversation, don’t you think I deserve to at least be in the room?”

“You don’t want this conversation, Helene,” London answered. “Trust me.”

She snapped her gaze toward him. I knew that look…by the way he winced, so did St. James. “Trust you? You might be my sister’s husband, London. But please don’t overstep our friendship.”

He visually blanched, adjusting himself before he nodded.

“Now.” Helene turned back, eyeing the cell in Kane’s hand. “Someone explain to me what’s going on.”

“We have evidence that Riven attacked you while you were at The Order.” Baron started. “That he…that he and his men dragged you into a room and brutally assaulted you. We came here to find out the truth.”

She stilled, not even her chest rose. There was nothing but silence, until finally. “You think…you think Riven would do that to me?”

Baron shifted uncomfortably.

She wrenched her gaze to London. “You? Do you think he did that to me?”

“There’s a video.” London murmured and shook his head. “One that shows Riven’s face as the attacker.”

A sound escaped her, low, wounded, devastated. She closed her eyes for a second before opening them. “I was raped at The Order. I was dragged into a room and held down on a table. But it wasn’t Riven who did that. He—” she met my gaze.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

I clenched my fists, desperately needing to tear something apart. The world, yeah, the world would do. Anything so she didn’t have to relive that fucking night once more.

“He saved me,” she finished. “In more ways than one. Coulter is the man who attacked me. He is the one you should be interrogating. Oh, that’s right,” she said coldly. “You can’t…because I killed him.”

Jesus, she was strong. Stronger than I’d ever seen in my entire life.

I remembered that day after she’d been hurt at The Order. The one when she walked into the cafeteria and looked in the eyes of every bastard who’d hurt her, right before she spit in Coulter’s face. They couldn’t break her then. But they were still trying.

They were still goddamn trying.

“Don’t you want to see the video?” Atley Lawlor asked carefully.

She snapped her focus toward him. “If you were raped and it was doctored to look like someone you loved did it, would you want to look at it?”

He stilled, then slowly shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t.”

She gave a slow nod, then turned to London. “You know us better than anyone. For you to think Riven or any of these men would do something like that is pretty goddamn low, London, even for you.”

“I didn’t mean—” he started.

She lifted her finger, stopping him cold. “You did, and you damn well know it. Now,” she swung that savage glare back to the diamond brothers. “I don’t know you and I’m assuming you don’t know me. If you did, you would’ve come to me first, instead of going after those I love.” She gripped the table and leaned down. “Now, I hope we’ve cleared up any confusion you might have.”

Baron’s eyes twinkled and his mouth curled up at the edges. “Yes, ma’am.”

“We need your help.” She pushed up, looking everyone in the eye. You’d never know she’d just found out her father was living on borrowed time. “So, I’m willing to overlook this, if you are. Let’s start afresh.” She reached out her hand. “Helene King, daughter of Weyland King, partner of Riven, Kane, Hunter, and…” she looked his way, giving my brother a soft careful smile before turning back. “Thomas Cruz. It’s very nice to meet you.”