Page 69

Xander

I don’t make it back home until after midnight.

Turns out, when I got onto the interstate, I went the wrong way. When Colton got the address to Cornerstone from Julie, he refused to give it to me, instead telling Wes and Kellan. They’re casing the place now and should have a full report to Colton by morning tomorrow.

I’m pissed enough that I want to barge into his room and demand he gives me the address, but if he’s sleeping, then he needs to rest. Tomorrow will be a big day for the Glass Rooks.

That, and the bastard is right. I wouldn’t be able to make the ride down safely, let alone the ride back up with Haven.

The house is quiet as I step inside. Colton probably put everyone up in some of his spare rooms, and I hope they’ve all managed to fall asleep. I head upstairs silently, only to find light shining from underneath mine and Luc’s door.

Inside, Lucas is standing in the middle of the room. He’s staring numbly at the wall. I’m not even sure he noticed me come in.

“Luc,” I say softly.

Nothing.

“Lucas.”

Slowly, he blinks, and then he turns his attention on me. His eyes are bloodshot, his expression blank.

“Can’t sleep?” I ask.

“Not tired.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Same.”

Lucas resumes staring at the wall. “Have you seen the latest report from Wes?”

“No. Haven’t checked my phone. I just wanted to get inside.”

“The place is practically impenetrable,” he says bitterly. “They have a huge gate that vehicles can go in and out of. That’s the only entry point, and as far as Wes and Kellan can tell, it’s always guarded by at least two armed men.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Lucas shakes his head. “How? They have fucking guard towers around the perimeter. Even if we can get in, how the hell are we supposed to get out without getting shot? Without Haven getting shot?”

“After tomorrow, we’ll have all of the Rooks’ resources on our side. We’re getting her out of there.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that Isaiah got his hands on her. He could be hurting her right now for all we know. She could… Xan, she could be dead.”

My chest feels hollow at the thought. I already had that realization hours ago, but now that I’m back home and doing absolutely nothing, it feels worse.

Lucas starts pacing back and forth. His shoulders are tight, and he grabs at his hair, pulling at it with frustration. “We already failed her once—already hurt her enough. What if we can’t get to her in time?”

I watch him silently, unsure of how to respond. Up close, I can see it now. Our childhoods affected us in different ways, but one thing we both escaped with was our need to have as much as possible under our control.

Our safety.

Our future.

Each other.

Everything.

And Haven… Haven is trapped in a guarded cage that we can’t penetrate. At least for tonight, we’re undeniably powerless.

“We’ll get her out,” I say firmly. “I don’t know how, but we’re not leaving her in there. I don’t care if we have to build an entire army to get her out. We’re not abandoning her.”

“It’s still… it’s still not…” He shakes his head, and when I try to pull him in for a hug, he jumps back. “No! No. That doesn’t matter. We failed her, Xan. Can’t you see that? We fucking failed her.”

“I know.”

Lucas falls to his knees in front of me. “Everything hurts, Xander. I can’t go back to feeling like this.”

“Hey.” I tip his chin up. “You don’t have to go back there. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“They’re going to hurt her. And that’s not how it’s supposed to go. I’m supposed to be the one who gets hurt. I…” Tears fill his eyes, and he pulls his face away from me so he can look down. “God, Xan, I can’t take this.”

The absolute despair in his voice knocks the air from my lungs. When we were younger, Lucas had too much on his shoulders. Trying to shield Aurora from their dad, taking the brunt of his abuse, and later on, not knowing if their mom would be able to keep a roof over their heads.

It all sent Lucas to a dark place—one I wasn’t sure I could pull him out of. Even now, it feels like a miracle that he’s kneeling before me. That I didn’t lose him years ago.

Crouching in front of him, I place a lingering kiss on his forehead. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to replace the pain. Xan, please. I need you to.”

“Tonight?”

“Please,” he begs hoarsely. “Please hurt me.”

I stare down at him, my best friend who turned into my forever as we grew up. How can I deny him? How can I do anything but try to help relieve the ache in his chest that I know is unbearable because I can feel it, too?

“All right.” My fingers run through his hair, down his arms, up his back. “Where? The basement? Or—”

“Up here. Downstairs is too big. Too open.”

That’s what I figured he’d say. Lucas has always liked smaller spaces. If it’s too large, it’s harder for him to watch his back. Not that he needs to when he’s with me, but it’s been ingrained into him since he was little.

To him, small is always the safer option.

“Up,” I say softly.

We both stand, and Lucas’s head falls to my shoulder. He lets out a single sob, gives himself a brief moment to clutch at my shirt, and then he pulls himself together.

“Strip, and then bend over the desk,” I tell him.

As he does, I reach into my dresser and pull out a belt. I fold it a few times so I have better control and step up to him. “Don’t move.”

The first time the leather hits his ass, Lucas’s shoulders tense. The second time, he hisses in pain. I could go easy on him—warm him up to it—but that’s not what he needs. It’s not what I need, either.

I keep my rhythm predictable and steady. This isn’t about playing games with Luc’s mind, it’s about getting it to shut off. With every slap of leather against skin, I watch his ass turn red.

My frustration bleeds out of me with each strike. Seeing it mark Lucas’s body satiates something inside me that needed to be fed. It’s something I’ve always controlled, and I am even now, but it’s been hungry for this. Still, when I approach the point where I’m about to make Lucas bleed, I stop.

The dark, monstrous side of me that yearns for blood and death is just as much a part of me as any other. My passion for music, my need for control, the way I turn obsessive at the drop of a hat. But there are lines I won’t cross, especially with Lucas. I’ve broken his skin before, but it’s always been with a knife, not from impact play. It’s new territory, and while it’s something I know he wants right now, we’ve never discussed this before.

Lucas glances over his shoulder at me. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m pretty sure if I hit you a few more times, you’re going to start bleeding.”

“So?”

“I’ve never done that before.”

Silence, then a quiet but determined, “Do it.”

“No.”

“Xander.”

“I…”

“Please don’t stop.” Lucas’s voice is shaking—no, all of him is shaking. “I can’t be done yet. I can’t. I…”

“We’re done,” I say gently. “With this, at least.”

“Xan, I need—”

“I know.” As I say it, I place a hand on his back. It’s a light, reassuring touch. “I’m not gonna leave you feeling like this. Get on the bed.”

I grab the lube from my nightstand and follow him. When he hears me pop the cap open, he gets on his hands and knees. I brush my hand over his ass, and he grunts in pain.

“This’ll hurt,” I warn.

“That’s the fucking point.”

With a smirk, I prep him and then wash my hands. He tenses as he feels me climb onto the bed behind him. I add more lube to my dick before sliding into him. When my hips hit his ass, he hisses.

It doesn’t stop me. I feed on his pain as I pull out and pump back into him. This is what he asked for—what he desperately needs—and I can’t deny him that.

I love him too much.

So with every thrust, I make sure to slam into him all the way to aggravate the welts on his ass. Lucas’s shoulders are bunched up, and he’s gripping the sheets hard, but he barely makes a noise. He’s absorbing the pain and letting it force out the guilt of failing the girl we were supposed to protect.

Lucas doesn’t come, and neither do I. There are many types of releases, and this isn’t supposed to be one of pleasure.

Nothing should feel good tonight.

Nothing will until we have Haven with us again.