Page 23

CHAPTER 22

“ E very uncorrected error and unrepented sin is, in its own right, a fountain of fresh error and fresh sin flowing on to the end of time.”

—C.S. Lewis

Jessica

Sin.

I’d had significant time to reflect on my own. I’d been brought up a good girl, told to follow the rules in all things and up until a few months before, that’s exactly what I’d done. I’d lived my life with virtue, believing in right versus wrong, but something had flipped inside of me. If I’d ever gone to see a shrink, my guess was that the respected professional would tell me the shift in my thinking was based solely on my hunger for revenge.

Maybe so.

In delving into the intense needs so many had to indulge in playing games instead of living their lives, I’d finally been forced to face certain facts that had haunted me to this day.

My sister Shanna hadn’t been the model of virtue that I’d believed.

After the tragedy had settled and years later, I’d learned how involved in the gaming world she’d been during the latter years of her life.

I’d also remembered she’d once told me shifting into virtual reality had helped ease her pain and suffering from chemotherapy. She’d only grazed over the adventures she’d enjoyed, likely to keep a young girl from the potential harm the games could do.

During the last few days, I’d been further intrigued by the fact we’d both been drawn to another world that had nothing to do with real life. Maybe I’d overlooked the darker side of someone I’d come close to worshipping. Shanna had been my best friend, and a mother figure after our mama had died. She’d helped me with homework, listened when I’d been sobbing because some boy didn’t like me.

She’d been there when our father had checked out of life.

After she was gone, I’d fallen into deep despair. That had led to all of this.

Yes, I’d been very reflective on sin, but there were various levels from sultry to treacherous. What I couldn’t determine was the plateau Xander was on or how far he’d go to keep secrets. To hide the past. To pretend he was a decent man when I sensed there was an underlying evil lurking inside of him.

But had my dad lied to me? I obviously wasn’t the best judge of character, but I’d sensed during the phone call the deep abyss he’d been in was beginning to destroy his life. And Xander. He’d been so kind, so protective that I was still in a fog about how I felt about him.

Maybe I’d been playing too many games over the last few years in my attempt to find myself and to crucify the man for what he’d done. Oh, God. Why was this suddenly all so muddled? The only way I’d learn the truth was by finding out more about Xander the man before learning about the past.

I’d seen the horrible look of sadness in his eyes the moment I’d accused him, which I hadn’t intended on doing. He was a master manipulator, but I could tell without any shadow of a doubt what I’d said had both shocked and hurt him.

With my hand over his shirt on my leg, I stood, still shaky but longing to see one of the paintings up close. I lumbered toward it, allowing my eyes to take in every inch. My God. What I hadn’t seen from where I’d been sitting was the muted effects that completely drew me in while standing only inches away.

The nearly naked man depicted was wearing a terrifying mask gilded in gold. The woman? Instead of an expression of horror as she lay writhing, almost completely naked beneath him, she had a look that screamed of utter ecstasy.

A chill slithered down my spine as it had done before. But this time, it was different. It was as if a light had popped on over my head, one so bright and alluring that I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.

Sinner.

I’d been blinded by the fact I’d gotten so close to the man I’d hated for years I’d lost sight of what had been staring me in the face.

I was in a sense a captive in Xander’s house, previously lounging on his massive leather chair with his four-hundred-dollar shirt splattered with my blood. I’d been brought here for protection yet also for another reason.

Because this was an extension of the game, a trial to see if I had what it took to be a part of the Obsidian Society.

And my teacher and master?

Xander Blackwell, aka Sinner.

Of that I had no doubt in my mind.

The comprehension wasn’t as startling as it should be. Perhaps I’d suspected the truth all along, more drawn to the masked man because of it. I couldn’t deny the strong attraction to him, the longing that I’d felt from the moment we’d stood only inches away. Or all the times I’d looked at his photograph on the internet. He was a beautiful man in every sense of the word.

Granted, his laugh was different than the man in the woods. The voice was not as deep, but the inflections were the same. All disguised by a system that would be easy to develop for a man like Xander. However, there were certain human traits that couldn’t be hidden no matter how hard anyone tried.

Like his height, for one thing. Few men stood at six foot four, fewer men still with a chiseled physique like the one both Xander and Sinner had.

I didn’t know why I’d been blinded in the first place. Other than at the top of the first sheets of information I’d been sent had been a notification the owners of the company only made the final decisions. Maybe I’d wanted to buy the story so my mind wouldn’t be fractured by the intense connection we shared.

The art drew my attention, but I couldn’t stop envisioning Xander’s face, a true masterpiece of creation. Angular without being sharp, a hint of stubble where I swear it hadn’t been before. Full lips that could either be used for a sensual gesture or a command of death.

Yes, I needed to remind myself for all his accomplishments, if I was correct in my assumptions, he was also a murderer. A fact that was no more horrifying than anything else.

I perused the painting for a few additional seconds before turning away, uncertain about my future and how I was going to move forward with destroying him.

Or if I could do so.

No, if I wanted to.

I was trembling by the time I returned to the seat, still lightheaded from the entire experience. I’d lived a nightmare that I’d partially created with the admittance of my own dark needs. No, I hadn’t asked to be attacked, but darkness begat darkness. Wasn’t that something Shanna had told me? Or maybe our father. I wasn’t certain.

What was I, na?ve as hell or just blinded by my insane and sick need to indulge in the darkest of sins? I didn’t recognize myself any longer. Not at all.

The ugly truth was I was disgusted with the woman sitting in the seat. Because of my foray into something I had no business entering into, I’d almost gotten myself hurt or killed.

Yet both times Xander had saved me.

He’d come to my rescue even though he’d hunted me as if I was his… prey. I wasn’t certain how to feel about it. Was I attracted to the man? More than I should be.

Did I want what I was thinking to be true? If I had to be brutally honest with myself, yes. There was no decent explanation for the way I felt and I wasn’t certain whether I was ready to confront him.

One thing stuck clearly in my mind. We both had something to hide.

It had been inevitable a powerful man like Xander would learn my true identity. Maybe he’d gotten my fingerprints off the headset. I wouldn’t put something like that past him. He hadn’t excelled in business the way he had without discovering everything he could about the people working for him and those opposing him.

I’d been so fucking na?ve, emblazoned by my dad’s hatred.

Thoughts about Dorn and the horrible things he’d said to me rumbled through the back of my mind. My fury was intense enough I’d wanted the man to suffer.

I leaned back in the comfortable chair, glancing around at what I could see of the room. It was extremely gothic with red walls and sconces, and detailed and highly erotic art that suited his personality. While I might not know much about him, what little I’d witnessed screamed of his dominating personality.

The room and paintings reflected that perfectly. When he’d been carrying me through the house, I’d caught a glimpse of what was probably the dining room. It was filled with pieces of exercise equipment. No wonder he had the body of a god instead of a man. There was no television in this room or the kitchen. That wasn’t surprising. I doubted he enjoyed movies or ridiculous television series.

I had the shirt in my hand and in an involuntary move, I pulled it under my nose, inhaling his aftershave. Xander was one of the few men who selected different fragrances. I wondered if he did so given his mood. He was certainly dark and formidable. So much of me wanted to berate him. I thought of a dozen or more of the hateful phrases I’d wanted to use over the years if allowed the opportunity to get in his face.

None of them seemed to fit now.

I’d lost all sense of perspective the moment he’d picked me up into his arms. I wasn’t usually the kind of woman to swoon over any man, but seeing him in his tuxedo had allowed me to feel a moment of pure lust before I’d shut it down.

Stephanie had gone on and on about how good looking he was while also reminding me to be very careful of all three men. They’d certainly seemed like kings, ruling over a kingdom that had made them into superstars.

I closed my eyes, envisioning the dreams and fantasies I’d had about the masked man. All while thinking of Xander. I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. Admitting the truth was more painful than I could ever have imagined.

But I hungered for him.

His rough touch.

His heated kisses.

The way he made me feel so alive, as if there was nothing I couldn’t do.

Every single rush of fear pushed my adrenaline higher, creating the most incredible endorphins.

His lips on my skin.

And on my pussy, his tongue buried deep inside.

Oh, my God. I longed to feel his cock buried deep inside, bringing me more rapture than I’d believed existed.

Moaning, I dropped my head into my hands. My sinner, my saint.

My nemesis.

He returned only a few minutes later, striding into the room with items in his hands including a true icepack. I allowed myself a full look at his carved chest, the six-pack abs more like an eight-pack. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man. I sucked in my breath, still uncertain of my feelings at this point. While he had a powerful draw, I was still frightened about my reaction to him.

I was also shocked at his level of tenderness. He crouched down as he’d done before, gently removing the shirt from my hand.

“Your shirt might be ruined,” I told him.

“Do you think I care about material things?”

“By the look of this house, the art on your walls, my answer is an easy yes.”

He tilted his gaze while opening a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “I could easily go without any material things, Jessica. For most of my life I lived in squalor. You should continue with the ice on your eye.”

The Blackwell brothers’ past had been kept very private. While there were whispers they’d grown up separately, I had no idea of the details. Neither did anyone else. I thought about what little Stephanie had told me, wondering if her father actually knew more than he’d been willing to tell.

“But you must prefer living in such luxury.” I did as he asked, placing it tenderly against my aching eye. The pain was still there, my head throbbing, but the damage could have been so much worse had he not intervened.

After tugging out a few cotton balls, he surveyed my wound again before pouring the peroxide onto the swabs. “This might sting a little and I’m sorry if it does.”

I winced as soon as he pressed a swab against the cut. “It’s fine.”

He chuckled. “A favorite word when around me. I enjoy nice things, I can’t lie to you that I do, but I respect those who can raise a family with little money. Especially the ones who keep the family together through thick and thin.”

“Does that mean you didn’t experience that as a child?” For as much as I wanted to hate him, when I noticed the dark swell in his eyes, I felt another sense of sorrow.

“My childhood is of no concern. Not to you or anyone else. What happened was the only thing that could have occurred.”

“I’m sorry, Xander. I really am. We have our crosses to bear. However, that doesn’t give you an excuse or the right to take out what you’d suffered on anyone else.” As soon as I gripped his hand, the same flurry of butterflies swarmed my stomach and I was momentarily caught off guard by the electricity shooting through every cell and muscle.

I instinctively pulled my hand away, curling my fingers just as he offered me a soulful look. It was entirely different than any expression I’d seen before.

“There is no reason to be sorry and perhaps you’re right, but keep in mind not all stories are filled with one hundred percent truths. Suffering, anger, sadness, and hatred often jade everything. We’re all given things to endure in our lives that make us stronger. Sadly, if it doesn’t, then we succumb to the kind of darkness that can’t be controlled.”

Was this a strange reasoning for why he’d gone into the gaming business?

He concentrated on what he was doing for another two minutes before taking a deep breath. “I don’t think this will become infected.” He rose to his full height as he’d done before, standing over me for just a few seconds before taking the items away and toward the bar.

I kept the compress on my eye as I watched him preparing fresh drinks. Even the muscles in his back were perfectly sculpted. How could a man so dangerously handsome be such a dick?

That’s what I continued to tell myself as he returned with the tumblers in his hand. The stern look he offered while handing me a glass matched the one from before.

In return, I handed him the ruined shirt. He smirked as he accepted the gesture, continuing to stare down at me.

“I’m really okay. Just rattled,” I told him as if repeating what I’d said would change his mind and he’d take me home. I placed the icepack on the table between the two chairs and smiled, forcing myself not to wince. If the punch had been any harder, I wouldn’t be able to see out of one eye, but my vision was just fine.

Other than that I was staring into the cold, hard eyes of a predator.

Was Sinner really that dangerous or was this just an excuse to see how I’d handle being close to him as Xander? Well, I was an excellent opponent. He’d found out in his virtual death I was quite formidable. As if proving a point, I stood, no longer as shaky as I had been before.

He was close, so close to me that I felt his incredible body heat resonating into mine. He never blinked, didn’t say a single word as I brushed against him. But the electricity was different, starting out as tiny prickles dancing across my skin before exploding into rockets of extreme power and heat.

I was breathless, the butterflies remaining as I returned to the picture I’d looked at before. It was interesting how the artist had used bold colors for some aspects and muted ones that made the person gazing on the work of art look more closely.

The masked man had his hand around her throat.

Brilliant.

I felt Xander’s presence behind me, yet he was keeping his distance, allowing me to explore on my own.

But the pressure was building. I could feel it spiraling to the point of being out of control. I held my breath as I stood in front of another painting, colors in the masterpiece matching the gothic red painted on the wall.

“The artist is incredible,” I finally said to break the silence and the nervousness that continued to build.

“A reflection of one’s soul,” he said as he moved right behind me.

It was almost impossible to concentrate, but the painting continued to draw me as the artist must have intended. The landscape was beautiful, a dark forest completely thick with lush foliage in deep greens with hints of moss. There were no flowers, no vibrant colors other than the mask the man was wearing. It held a neon reflection, just enough to linger over what he was doing.

Tying his intended to a tree.

My mouth and throat were suddenly dry, my mind spinning with images of the woman being me. Deep in a forest. Hunted and captured. Now she would be punished.

I longed for it. A taste of pain before the utmost pleasure.

It suddenly dawned on me why the paintings were here. “You painted these?”

“Very good, Jessica. Yes, I did.”

The way he said my name sent another shower of trickles skittering through me. Those pinpricks had turned into an erupting fire that would soon be uncontrollable.

“Out of pain and guilt.” I said the words absently, but I knew them to be the truth.

His sigh was deep and filled with darkness. “I didn’t kill Shanna. I loved her, but she was better off without me. That was the single thing your father was correct about.”

“Then why did you leave her?”

He brushed his hand through my hair before rubbing the pads of his fingers over my shoulder. “Because your father begged me to and I honored his request. It was the one thing he’d asked of me and the one promise I should never have kept.”

I closed my eyes. I believed him.

“You crave the darkness,” I said after a few seconds had passed and I wasn’t certain why. Wasn’t that obvious?

“Just as you do. You have a need to let go of everything you fear, all the anguish you’ve experienced. The hatred. There’s only one way of doing so.”

“How so?” I could barely breathe, my pulse racing.

“By allowing someone to take full control of you. And your destiny. That is what you truly want. Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what I want, Xander. At least not any longer.”

“Then I truly think you’re lying to yourself.” His voice was deep, not harsh, but holding a stern tone that both excited and frightened me. I was frozen in the moment, still staring at the painting yet the characters were no longer strangers, depictions of the shadows living in those hungering for a taste of something more extreme.

The man in the mask holding a leather strap was Sinner and the woman was his little lamb.

My breath skipping, the moment I felt his fingers brushing against the skin on my shoulders, I shuddered audibly.

“I don’t know what this is,” I whispered.

“I think you do.”

I sensed for once and perhaps this time only, he was offering me a choice. With a merciless beast like Xander, there would be no others. From here on out, he would dictate every interaction.

As I closed my eyes, I fell into the sweet peace of his fingers trailing down my arms, briefly interlocking our fingers together.

“Surrender and I’ll set you free, my perfect Jessica.”

This was wrong, so very wrong, but his touch and the beautiful release was everything I’d craved.

And everything my body and soul needed.

So I turned around to face him, tilting my head. His eyes were positively glowing and to think, the man I’d believed to be a monster didn’t need a mask to excite me.

Everything about him did.