Deception, p.33
Deception, page 33
“What’s going on?” I demand, earning the attention of the four of them.
Ty’s features fall at seeing me. “Landry, I’m sorry. I wanted to warn you but there’s no time.”
Scout glowers at him. Sully’s face is pained. Sparrow’s jaw clenches hard and he wears a murderous expression.
My stomach flops and then seems to drop several floors below me. The fog of our safe little word has faded and reality creeps in, cold and at a breakneck speed.
“I don’t feel so well,” I say as a wave of dizziness washes over me.
Sully is closest, grabbing for me as my knees buckle. Panic claws up my chest, gripping my throat.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
“Honey, calm down,” Sully murmurs, pulling me to his chest. “We’re not going to let you get hurt.”
Looking down, I find Della staring up at me. She’s no longer playful and being a bit naughty. Her face is devoid of emotion. I don’t have to tell her what I’m afraid of. She knows. She senses the vibe in the room, even if no one has signed anything to her.
I’m about to reach for her, to assure her it’ll be okay—even though it won’t—when someone pounds on the door.
“NYPD! Open up!”
No. No. No. No. No.
I’m shaking my head, muttering the word under my breath over and over.
“Fuck,” Sparrow curses. “Fuck.”
“Ty, you need to hide,” Scout commands. “Go to one of the back rooms. Now.”
“W-what? Why?” Ty mutters. “I can help.”
“No,” Scout growls. “Your cousin will ruin you if he finds out you helped us. Go. Fire escape in Sully’s room.”
“Fuck. Okay.” He hurries out of the room.
“Open the door or we’ll kick it in,” a deep voice booms. “Three, two—”
Sparrow stalks over to the door and flings it open before they bust through it.
Several cops enter the apartment, guns drawn and pointing at the guys.
“Let them go!” one of the cops bellows.
Sully holds me tighter and Della clings to the both of us.
Everything is about to get really messy unless I do something. I pull away from Sully, turning to fully face the cops.
“We ran away,” I croak out. “They just gave us a place to stay.”
“Landry,” Sparrow spits out, taking a step closer to me.
The cops start shouting at him to get his hands in the air or they’ll shoot.
“No,” I tell him, tears brimming my eyes, attempting to keep this from escalating into a bunch of arrests, or worse yet, one of them getting shot. “It was me. I kidnapped my little sister and forced them to take us in. Pull the building cameras and see for yourself. I walked here on my own free will. If you’re going to arrest anyone, arrest me.”
I step forward, offering my hands to them. The cops falter, confusion on their faces. One of them radios a muttered question to someone. Seconds later, another man enters the apartment.
All the air in the room turns to ice.
My father.
He’s here.
Scout charges for him, but Sparrow grabs him in a bear hug from behind before he can reach my father. He’s spitting out curse words and threats. Sparrow is able to restrain him. Barely.
I wait for my father to lash out at me, but then I remember…we have an audience. He’s so much better at pretending to be a perfect father when others are watching—when his reputation is on the line.
“You can’t take her,” Sparrow says to my father over Scout’s snarling. “We won’t let you.”
Dad sneers. “You’re about to go to prison for kidnapping, son. You’re hardly in a place to be making demands about my fucking girls.”
Now Sparrow is seconds from losing it like Scout. If they both attack him, those cops won’t think twice about shooting them both in the head.
“They didn’t do anything wrong,” I tell my dad, lifting my chin. “I swear. It was me. I took Della. They’re my boyfriends. I wanted to be with them.”
Sully’s palm on my back gives me the support I need. I swallow down all my fear and turn on the bratty princess mode.
“You grounded me from my phone and computer. You promised me a car. You lied, Daddy. I was so mad at you.” Crocodile tears form and my lip wobbles. “I just wanted to be with them and you took away all my ways of communicating with them.”
Dad’s eyes narrow. He knows better than I do that the reason I ran away was because of him—because of him hurting Della and me both. He knows I’m sacrificing myself to save these guys which puts a target on their back, but it’s better than allowing them to go to prison because of me.
“You can’t take them to jail for what I did,” I tell him firmly. “If you want to punish someone, you punish me. Not them.”
His eyes flare at my words. I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“No,” Scout bellows. “You sick fuck—”
“Get him out of here,” I tell Sully. “Now.”
Sully pecks me on the cheek and then takes over for Sparrow, dragging Scout out of the room.
The cops are no longer pointing their weapons. They’re all waiting on Dad to instruct them on what to do next. Money talks and his is very loud.
Sparrow sidesteps over to me. His hand curls around the back of my neck. So strong and powerful, a promise to keep me safe.
Too bad it’s out of his control now.
I was stupid to think I could actually escape my father’s steely grasp. He’s too powerful and rich. His influence is apparently over the police too. They literally just sit, waiting for his command. Even if I told them everything he’s done, he’ll find a way to twist it. I know this in my bones.
It’s over.
I’m not going anywhere ever again.
I’ll go back to playing my father’s fucked-up games while keeping Della as safe as I can in the process. It’s all I can do.
“No,” Sparrow mutters when I attempt to step forward. “I won’t let you go back to that piece of shit.”
A sob catches in my throat. “We have no choice,” I whisper. “You don’t know what he could do to you.”
“I don’t give a fuck about me,” Sparrow growls. “This is about you.”
Turning, I give him a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” he shouts. “You’re not fucking leaving, Landry!”
“Sir, I will put you in cuffs if you don’t let the woman go,” one of the cops barks out.
I jerk out of Sparrow’s hold, rushing toward my father. I can’t look at him. I can’t. His scent envelops me and I choke back a gag. Della clings to me, her face buried against my hip.
“My girls,” Dad says, fake emotion coloring his voice. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He pulls us to him for a fatherly hug that has me withering on the inside. All light and happiness are being sucked out of me as darkness creeps in.
“Stay right where you are, sir,” a cop bellows at Sparrow, “or I’ll be forced to shoot.”
“Please, Dad, get us out of here. I want to go home. Now. Sparrow didn’t do anything wrong. I promise I’ll be good. Just get us out of here.”
He pats my back. “Stand down. I’ve got it from here.”
I turn to look at Sparrow one last time. His face is twisted into a furious scowl. Both his hands are fisted at his sides. He looks seconds from attacking everyone in this room.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur to him. “This is for the best.”
His lips press into a firm line, but he wisely remains rooted in place. I want to run over to him and kiss him one more time. That would just escalate things again, though.
I need to leave.
Clean break.
Last night and this morning were perfect. I’ll hold on to those moments and remember them when Dad is making my life a living hell. It’ll have to be enough.
When Della realizes we’re leaving, she has a meltdown. Kicking and squirming with big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She tries to run back over to Sparrow, but one of the cops grabs on to her, easily dragging her back. Sparrow’s nostrils flare, anger burning hot in his stare, yet he remains a statue.
Thank God.
Just stay put until we get out of here, Sparrow.
Soon, we’ll be gone. My guys will be safe. Ty will be safe. They won’t get arrested or shot at because of me. All will be well in their world.
It means subjecting me and Della back to our own personal hell, though. I’m sickened by the thought of going back there. I don’t know what else to do. This seems like the only way. Maybe, after some time passes, I’ll have another opportunity to escape. I will try and remain hopeful.
Dad leads us out of the apartment and into the elevators. It’s not until the doors close do I fully comprehend what I’ve just done.
I left the only men who’ve ever tried to protect me or save me, willingly going with the monster.
Hopeful?
There’s no hope anymore.
I left hope in Scout’s bed this morning.
Hope is lost. All that’s left is darkness and it’s quickly swallowing me up.
Chapter Seventeen
Landry
My father’s fury is a thick, suffocating cloud in the car. Della’s face is buried into my side as she refuses to look at him. I take shallow breaths, attempting to calm the raging storm of anxiety inside my chest.
What was I thinking?
I sacrificed us for slaughter to save the triplets.
The silence in the car is almost worse than if he were yelling at me. I can feel each unspoken word like a lash against my flesh. I hold Della tight, trying to convey to her that this is temporary.
It is temporary.
I’ll figure out a way to escape for good. I did it once; I can do it again.
Find a way to hide away from my father forever.
Save Della.
Save myself.
The driver pulls up in front of our building. A heaviness settles on my shoulders, weighing me into the seat. My whole body feels as though it’s filled with lead.
I can’t willingly walk up there.
I can’t.
A crowd of people rush the car, startling me from my daze. Reporters are snapping pictures and shouting out questions. At least in front of these people, Dad won’t do anything cruel.
Dad’s security push away some people opening the side door for us. Della is pulled from my grasp and one of the men carries her off. I scramble after her, my heart in my throat.
A reporter steps right in my path, shoving a microphone in my face. “Is it true you were kidnapped and held against your will?”
“Miss Croft!” Another microphone bumps into the side of my head as someone tries to get it near my mouth. “Were you hurt? What did the kidnappers want from you? Did they touch you?”
Dad wraps an arm over my shoulders, smacking the microphones away. “The police did their jobs and got me my girls back. Please allow me some time to reunite with them. I’ll give an official statement later.”
The reporters start shouting again, but Dad is done speaking. He ushers me through the crowd and into the building.
“Where’s Della?” I croak out, hysteria building in my throat.
Dad ignores me, guiding me into the elevator. She’s not there. Just the two of us and some more security detail.
“Dad,” I plead. “Where’s Della?”
His jaw clenches but he won’t look at me or speak. I bite back a sob, pushing past him when the elevator doors open to our floor. I break out into a sprint, desperate to see my sister once more before the monster is let loose and life goes back to the way it was before.
Bursting through our front door, I find Della clinging to Sandra. Sandra’s features are pulled tight, disproval shining bright in her eyes.
I’ve made things worse for us.
I can see it written all over her expression. And I know it’s true. That’s why it feels like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of me. Footsteps resound behind me as my dad and his men approach. Sandra’s spine straightens and she turns on her heel with Della, guiding her down to her bedroom. She disappears inside with her and closes the door. For once, I’m thankful for Sandra’s presence. At least Della has someone and maybe Dad will just take it out on me, not her. It wasn’t Della’s fault.
Not waiting to be told, I bolt to my own bedroom. It’s not until I close the door behind me do I notice the change.
The room is empty.
There’s a bed, stripped down to the mattress, but that’s it. No dresser or vanity. No pictures on the walls or curtains. A quick glance into my closet tells me it’s empty too. I’m confused and dizzied by this new revelation.
The doorknob twists and my father steps in. His regal authority is cold and numbs me. I can’t help but shiver and run my palms over my arms, hugging my arms to my chest to try and keep warm.
Gone is the relieved expression on his face that was all for show at the guys’ apartment.
Gone is the quiet, hidden rage in the car.
His monster is loose and thrumming with the need to punish.
There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I’ve done this to myself. I brought all of this on myself.
What choice did I have?
Trust in the policemen who are deep in Dad’s pockets? Fight him and get my boyfriends shot or hauled off to prison?
This, unfortunately, was the only way.
I can endure it long enough until we get our next opportunity for escape. He can’t keep us locked away forever. Not now. Not when the whole city now knows we exist and matter. They’ll want to see us at events and parties. The public will be curious.
“You disgust me.”
His words are like a whip, lashing at my skin, leaving it raw and exposed. I recoil, taking a step backward.
“It was bad enough that you attacked me,” he growls, raising his hand to touch the back of his head. “But then you took your sister and ran.”
I take another step back, needing as much space between us as possible.
“Imagine my surprise to find out you’d shacked up with those Mannford boys.” He grinds his teeth so hard I can hear the sound. “Winston Constantine confided in me just what horrible people they were. How dare you expose my daughter to such filth.”
“Dad,” I croak out, needing to diffuse this bomb that’s about to explode. “Please, I—”
“What perverted shit did you let them do to you?” he demands. “Did you let them fuck you? All at once? You’re a sick child. So fucking sick.”
A sob chokes my throat and tears blur my vision. I blink furiously, needing to keep him in my line of sight. Somehow, he’s advanced in that fateful second, and now looms over me.
“You let them mark you,” he snarls, dragging his finger along the column of my neck. “Like you were their whore. Where else did they mark you?”
I’m shaking my head, desperately trying to find the words, but none come out. Before I can process, my clothes are being forcefully ripped from my body. I cry and scream, begging for Sandra or anyone to help me, but no one comes. He shoves me to the bedroom floor and nudges my hip with his dress shoe.
All my bruises are on display—a colorful map of the unusual and erotic week I had with my guys. It’s all here blinking like a neon sign for Dad to see. I don’t have to tell him what I did with them because he can see it with his own two eyes.
The situation is all too much. I can feel the separation begin when I disassociate myself from these horrible encounters. My mind drifts to warm, safer places while I leave my body to fend for itself. I’m vaguely aware of him crouching beside me, poking bruises and snapping pictures.
I’m not in my room.
I’m in Scout’s bed, melting under his intense glare. I’m in Sparrow’s arms, feeling safe and protected. I’m captured in Sully’s kiss, my heart fluttering every time he calls me honey.
“That’s enough evidence,” Dad says. “Get up.”
I blink away the haze of where I’d rather be and drag myself to the present. I’m shaking so hard my teeth are chattering. I don’t know what comes next, but this doesn’t feel like other times with my father. This doesn’t feel like when he’d blur the lines of our relationship. This feels like he’s the warden and I’m a lowly prisoner who somehow managed to breach the prison walls.
He wants to make me hurt.
So I won’t forget this moment.
So I won’t ever try to escape again.
He grabs my bicep, hauling me to my feet when I make no moves to get up. I can feel his fingers biting into my flesh, leaving their own possessive mark. My entire naked body is on display and I hate being seen this way.
“On the bed,” he barks, spittle showering over my face.
I shake my head violently. “N-no.”
“You don’t get to tell me no, child.”
My screams echo in the empty room, but no one comes to save me. He pushes my body over the bed, leaving my ass exposed.
Think of them. Think of anything.
The sound of his belt buckle jangling keeps me rooted in the present.
I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me do this.
Sparrow’s warm maple-syrup eyes and taunting grin flash in my mind. The way he calls me Laundry like it’s every bit of an endearment as honey. His deep, claiming kisses—
Whap!
The fantasy of Sparrow is erased by white-hot pain lashing across my ass. It’s not until I feel it again do I realize what is happening.
He’s not going to…
He’s whipping me with his belt instead.
Whap!
The pain is otherworldly. I claw my fingernails into the mattress material, trying to find purchase so I can crawl away from this madness.
A painful grip on my thigh prevents me from getting away, dragging me back into position.
Whap!
The burning, bruising pain is all I can think about. I want it to stop. Please, God, make it stop.
But it doesn’t stop.
It happens over and over and over and over again until I black out.
