Page 5

CHAPTER 4

F our months later…

Wilder

Blood pumping.

That’s what I thought about when I ran. Other joggers used music to keep their energy flowing. I didn’t need some rock and roll to keep my feet moving. I thought about the blood pumping to my heart and every other organ. That usually led me to more heinous thoughts, providing images that would terrify anyone if they knew.

Only very few people truly knew me and I liked it that way.

My privacy and determination to remain very much alone likely kept people sane and alive.

The images floating in my mind today were those from the past.

Including when I’d cut a man from ear to ear for abusing a kid on a playground. I’d still been a teenager and hadn’t known either one of the two people involved. Right and wrong had already been muddled, yet I knew a grown man should never abuse anyone, let alone a kid who was half his size and one third his weight.

I’d made my appearance known, which had prompted the asshole to cease his horrible behavior.

Then I’d followed him, learning where he and the little boy lived. Later, when I’d found him alone, I’d made certain he would never hurt anyone again.

It hadn’t been the first time I’d killed and it certainly hadn’t been the last. But it had been the most satisfying kill of all. Maybe because I’d managed to free someone from the crippling prison much like the kind I’d been forced into.

One after the other.

Running not only helped keep me in shape; it also allowed me to clear my mind of such reprehensible thoughts. It was an effort to keep me living a normal life. Whatever that meant. At least the beast inside was quiet for now. Although that was subject to change at any moment.

I could easily be labeled a deranged individual, a sociopath who shouldn’t be allowed to live in society, but I could control myself. I’d proven that time and time again. Only I had to admit I was getting itchy. Two things calmed the beast.

Bloodshed and sex.

And right now, I wasn’t in the mood for female company even if the last taste of a woman had been extremely powerful and satisfying. I smiled as I turned down another path, finally glancing at my watch that kept track of my heartrate and how many miles I’d traveled. Six already today. At least four more and I’d feel better.

I took another turn so I could run by the river when I heard a sound. A cry. Not just any cry, but one coming from a woman. I knew shrieks of joy from stimulation brought on by almost every emotion. That wasn’t what I was hearing. The woman was in trouble and if I knew how bystanders acted, they wouldn’t lift a finger to help her.

My legs pumped as I moved closer, scanning the area with twenty-twenty vision.

A hooded man was actively assaulting a young woman, who I could tell by her attire had also been out jogging. I reacted, not thinking about anything but giving the motherfucker a dose of his own medicine. While I didn’t carry a weapon with me when performing my normal exercise routine, I didn’t need a gun or knife to handle a situation. My hands were enough.

With the perpetrator managing to pin her to the ground, his hand now over her mouth, he began trying to tie her wrists with thick rope. She was half in, half out of the water.

She continued struggling, managing to free one arm. I watched as she issued a solid punch. Anger boiled within me the same way it did for her attacker. When he pulled out a gun, pressing the barrel against her cheek, I threw myself at him.

With ease, I knocked him off, snatching the weapon from his hand.

“Run!” I told the woman just as I leveled a brutal punch to the man’s gut. As he tumbled backward, I noticed the mask he was wearing. The scumbag was wearing a clown mask, the ghoulish features seemingly dripping with blood.

The victim screamed hysterically as she stumbled away from the riverbank, the commotion enough I sensed she was drawing a crowd.

As the asshole came at me, attempting to pummel my face, I ducked, punching him three times under the jaw before lifting his body several feet off the ground. The rush of adrenaline was boosted by the victim’s continued screams.

I tossed him to the ground, instantly wrenching one arm while he managed to grab a knife from his pocket with the other.

“You should learn women deserve to be treated like queens.” The moment he took a swing, managing to slice my arm, I returned the favor and snapped his in half. There was nothing more powerful that to crush a man’s bones or to hear the sound the moment justice was paid.

But I wasn’t finished.

Neither was he.

While he exclaimed in pain, he was strong enough to jerk forward. He slashed the knife again, but I caught his wrist. As soon as I started to bend it backwards, deep male voices caught my attention.

“Drop the weapon!”

I had a firm hold and allowed myself to turn my head. The two police officers pointing their weapons at both of us were attempting to stop the fun.

A growl rose from my throat and it took all I had to stop my actions.

“Not that one!” the victim yelled as she rushed forward, her eyes full of terror. “He saved me.”

There was nothing more I hated than to be stopped before I finished a job. Snarling, I retuned my attention to the perpetrator, realizing I’d managed to shift the direction of the blade. Now the point was a mere two inches from his neck. His pulse was rapid, exposing his fear. If I’d had thirty additional seconds, I could have ended the prick’s life.

“Put the weapon down, sir. We’ll handle this.”

Exhaling, I yanked the weapon from his hand, relieving the pressure before tossing it aside. After ripping the mask from his face, I offered a wide smile, making certain what I had to say only he heard. “I’m not done with you yet, freak. When you least expect it, I will strike.”

There were now six cops, all of them advancing with their weapons pointing at both of us.

I backed off, keeping the smile on my face. I’d been prepared for the jerk’s next reaction. The moment I turned my back to walk away, he issued a primal roar.

With a sharp turn, I drove my fist into the center of his face.

Down he went.

As I walked up the slight knoll, people from the crowd began to clap.

* * *

“We have a hero in our midst. Maybe we should open a bottle of champagne.”

The statement was made as soon as I walked into my office. I’d already seen the curious looks from various employees as I’d walked into the building owned by the Blackwell Group. I glared at my brother and moved directly to my desk, noticing Xander wasn’t the only one lounging in the leather chairs offered to guests.

I thumped down, still glaring from Xander to Zach, my two brothers wearing the same mischievous grin.

Meanwhile, Christopher Canton, the fourth board member and company attorney, was actively reading something on his iPad. As usual, I suspected he was worried about lawsuits.

“Oh, fuck off,” I said in passing. “What the hell do you know?”

“Only what the Tribune posted this morning. Including art. I guess they needed a feel-good piece.” Christopher leaned over, sliding the computer across my desk.

I barely looked down. Unfortunately, the photograph had a clear shot of my face, which had led to the ridiculous headlines.

Blackwell Vice President Proves Himself a Dark Knight After All

Snorting, I didn’t bother reading the article. The reporter thought it cute to highlight our most popular and lucrative reality game with a twist to the name. While even bad press was considered good press, the article pissed me off.

“So, you’re a hero now,” Zach said as he leaned back in his chair, his bulk managing to lift the front two legs off the floor.

“You want to put your feet on my coffee table too?” I snarled.

“Matter of fact,” he answered and planted one Hermes Giovanni leather loafer on the glass surface then the other, “I think I will.”

“The article isn’t bad. The woman you saved is some diplomat’s wife. She thinks you’re the perfect savior.” Christopher grabbed the iPad, pinning me with his scrutinizing eyes. “Now the perpetrator, on the other hand, is suing you. Or so he spouted off.”

“Let the fucker sue me. He’d lucky I didn’t rip out his throat for what he did.” I meant that too. I’d come very close to ignoring that people were watching or that I was supposed to have a conscience. I’d seen blood in my eyes and that never boded well for the idiots who dared cross me.

“Get this,” Christopher continued. “The perpetrator’s daddy is some bigwig in a pharmaceutical firm. He’s already vowed to free his son from this tyranny.”

“He was caught red-handed trying to assault a woman, for God’s sake.” Xander laughed out loud.

“True justice doesn’t always matter. It’s all about money and influence.” Zach lifted his eyebrow as he turned his head in my direction as if wanting me to weigh in.

“If the fucker doesn’t serve time, he’ll face my wrath. Plain and simple.” I was being honest. I’d read the paper. I’d also seen the jerk’s father maligning the attack on his son and expounding on the fact the young man was a Rhodes Scholar and a former college athlete. So what? Drew Monahan might be a pillar of society on paper, but I knew better than most that every man had two distinct sides.

Good and evil.

“He is under investigation for several attacks over the last year. Maybe you managed to catch a serial rapist. Imagine the mayor giving you a key to the city.” Xander was teasing me, which he’d loved to do since we’d reconnected almost fifteen years before.

“Bastard,” I told him, allowing a growl to surface. No one would ever be able to call me a hero. “Maybe I’ll do the city a favor and cut out his throat to save the taxpayers money.”

“Good idea,” Zach chimed in.

Christopher sighed and glanced at his watch. “Is it too early to start drinking? The three of you are going to drive me to an early grave.”

While Christopher wasn’t family, he knew more of our secrets than anyone else, with perhaps the exception of the two women who’d somehow entered into my brothers’ lives. Granted, they were beautiful and cunning, both girls a little bit deranged like the three of us. Christopher was mostly on the straight and narrow, trustworthy yet toeing the gray areas of law to keep us protected.

The three Blackwell brothers had decided within a week after reconciling close to two decades apart that no one would learn our backstories. That was too dangerous for our continued freedom.

But Christopher was no fool. I’d sensed a long time ago he suspected our dark humor was more of a retelling of our past deeds, so many of them heinous in nature.

We did enjoy ridding the world of snakes and cockroaches, but living in the lap of luxury did have its benefits. The enjoyment of our lifestyle usually kept us from delving too far into the darkness.

There should be something very satisfying about owning the most profitable gaming company in the world. Our stock had soared and remained high after the release of Dark Nights, our most popular game to date. We’d followed it up with an even more sexual sister game titled Seductive Nights only three months before.

The games were highly interactive, exceptionally realistic, and overtly sexual and violent in nature. Our claim to fame. They’d been the fallout of our brutal foster upbringings, providing a lucrative manner to rid ourselves of the savage demons still living inside the three of us. It allowed us to remain free men since we weren’t out actively slaughtering people.

I chuckled inwardly from the thought. Not that we hadn’t been forced to ‘handle’ an enemy or two over the years with our preferred methods. But we’d tried to become better citizens over the last five years.

Now we were even involved in charities.

“In all seriousness, don’t talk to the press,” Christopher warned. “At least allow me to see if the Clown Monster’s father is really going to sue.”

“The clown monster?” Zach repeated.

Our attorney nodded as he laughed. “Yep. The name he was given in the press. I don’t think the kid likes it very much. Not aggressive enough. Evidently, he’s carried out the rape, torture, and murder of several women over the last two years. This is the only time the police got close. Thanks to our hero.”

I shifted my gaze from Zach to Xander. We weren’t triplets yet we had an uncanny ability to read each other’s minds and know if one another was in danger.

We all had the same penchant for violence given our upbringings. However, they didn’t need to remind me that prudence was in order. We had too much at stake and over the years had had targets placed on our backs more than once.

The three of us remained quiet and Christopher finally headed toward the bar. “You guys are way too dark for me.”

“Speaking of dark,” Zach said as he laughed. “We agreed on a hunt to start the festivities.”

A hunt.

Two magical words to the three of us. To some, a hunt was terrifying. We’d cornered the market in depraved elements, both in our virtual reality games and in the contest held in real time and real life.

Hunting human prey was merely a part of an illustrious contest, one the four of us coveted, but had learned to be careful indulging in. We all had too much at stake.

The risk to safety and sanity was high. But so were the rewards.

I was already salivating from the thought. It had been too damn long.

Rewards also extended to the winner of the almost yearly event.

“Before we agree to this, I’m going to pitch an idea I’d like the three of you to consider,” Christopher said as he brought his gin and tonic back to his perch.

“You know Chris and his ideas,” Zach teased.

I leaned back in my seat, swiveling it from side to side. “Out with it.”

Christopher gave me a hard look. “The last contest, we had enough bogus applications it took me days to weed through them. Why not at least have a shorter questionnaire? I honestly think we can toss out over fifty percent immediately. That way we don’t waste time and resources on a formal application process unless there’s a better than fifty percent chance the applicant has what it takes to compete.”

We’d turned the initial darkness into a more official corporate game. I think that’s why it hadn’t appealed to me in the last few years. Why bother if it was going to be completely orchestrated? I longed for the first few years after forming the Obsidian Society when there had been few formal rules to follow. Players could hunt, capture, tease, stalk, and fuck the contestant they desired. As long as we had a formal agreement and a nondisclosure agreement from the players, most rules of decency didn’t apply.

But when you had an attorney on your board, things were different.

“What are we talking about? Another fucking mailing like we’re some scammer?” After the incident the day before, I’d yet to get the taste of blood from my mouth and was cranky as fuck.

“Why not allow one of the social media platforms you seem to hate with a passion to do the work?”

“What do you have in mind?” Xander asked him.

“We pop out a new Instagram account with a few slides. They head to our website if interested to answer so it’s still all confidential. One of you brilliant assholes can even set up an algorithm with preferred answers. Those with eighty percent affinity move into an initial approved pile. You can pick the numbers. I really don’t care. Maybe the players will find their perfect better half and we secure a possible new board member since the seat has been vacant for well over a year.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me get this straight. The Obsidian Society, once a privileged honor to be invited into, has now been turned into a glorified, albeit darker version of The Bachelor .”

Both Zach and Xander chuckled.

I wasn’t kidding.

“Call it what you want, but an additional limited questionnaire will weed out the crazies and the reporters. I can spot them a mile away.” Christopher held up his drink. The man had a shit-eating grin on his face.

We had endured a number of reporters in the past two years determined to learn all our dirty little secrets.

“Fine. I don’t care. Create the account. Just let me know when the candidates are weeded out.” I’d grown weary of the same company bullshit over the last three or four years. Boredom wasn’t in my best interest. Or that of those who pissed me off for that matter.

“I agree. That’s fine, Chris, but it’s your baby. Finish it and if there are any contestants left after you get through with weeding them out, let us know.” Xander was forever acting like the CEO of the company. That used to piss me off. Now, I honestly didn’t care.

Maybe the boredom had ripped away what had been left of my ability to blend in and be normal.

“How’s the movie?” I asked Zach. Also nothing I cared about. However, the production on the thriller blockbuster based on Dark Nights could turn out to be a lucrative venture if it did well at the box office. As if we needed more money.

Zach shrugged. “Sara has the production team eating out of her hand.”

Sara, his supportive love interest, a woman who could handle his dark proclivities. Both my brothers had mellowed out after finding the right women.

“Don’t invite me to the premiere,” I told him.

“Speaking of The Bachelor ,” Xander threw in.

I lifted my head, noticing he was grinning as if he held a goddamn secret. “What?”

“Did you forget about the charity event?” Zach asked. “Isn’t that like two weeks away?”

Xander nodded.

“Obviously, I attempted to block the ridiculous event from my mind,” I answered. “Since when do soulless sociopaths give a damn about charity?” The charity event was nothing but extreme pomp and circumstance for the rich and famous. They were allowed to play while appearing as if they gave a damn about whatever cause was being highlighted.

“Since it helps keep the reporters confused and the police from bursting in through our doors.” Xander’s answer was a decent one, but it didn’t mean I cared. “You volunteered since this is a bachelor auction. We certainly can’t participate.”

“Naturally, or the women who have your dicks in a tight vise will castrate you.” I had volunteered after a night of debauchery and booze. I never lost control of anything in my life and that night had proven to me why it wasn’t a good idea.

“Think of it this way. It’s a masquerade party as well. At least you can wear a mask.”

Zach was teasing, but his words were another reminder of how much I was itching to assume a role play.

Only the play was very real.

And very dangerous.