Page 58 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

HIM

I feel Savina’s eyes on the side of my face as I take the steps down and go to the car parked in front of the estate.

With her still in my arms and through millions of miles of material of her dress, I manage to get the door open and stuff her and the dress inside.

She watches me, a curious note in her chocolatey-brown eyes, as I walk around the front and get behind the wheel.

It’s not until I’ve started my car that she speaks, completely ignoring my last statement.

“You never answered my question. Where are we going?”

At the end of the driveway, I take a left, not bothering to look to see if anyone is coming from the other direction. No one ever comes to this side of the island. This is my domain.

“To show you your wedding gift,” I reply.

“Oh.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her fiddle with the lacey material of her dress. “I… uh, didn’t get you anything.”

I didn’t expect her to. Considering her confession of hatred toward me, why would she? And if by chance she did, it would probably be in the form of poison-laced coffee. Or a dagger to my heart while I sleep. My Vicious is ruthless enough to do either of those things.

I glance over. “Lift your dress,” I command.

Her hands freeze on her lap. “Why?”

“Because I want to feel your skin.”

“Then hold my hand,” she retorts.

“Lift your dress, Little Vicious, or I’ll have you ride my cock while I drive us to where we’re going. Those are your only two options.”

She huffs out a breath, and it almost makes me smile.

But she complies, gathering the material with jerky movements and sliding it up her smooth legs.

I’m pleased and my cock jerks beneath my slacks when she reaches the top of her thigh-high stockings.

They’re attached to garters. I want to lay my seat back and have her ride my face so I can unsnap the clips with my teeth.

When the skirt is pulled up so it’s a bunched-up mountain in her lap, I reach across the console and lay my hand on the inside of her thigh, right up close to her pussy. I look over and arch a brow when I feel her damp skin. She can claim aversion all she wants, but her body still craves mine.

“Already so wet for me,” I remark.

“Asshole,” she mutters, and I chuckle.

I hold on to her leg with a tight grip, my thumb swiping back and forth across her silky, soft skin, as I navigate the dark streets toward our destination. It doesn’t take us long since the place is only a few miles from my estate. Savina recognizes the landscape before I take the final turn.

“We’re going to The Reef?”

“Yes.” I turn right down a dark, unpaved road.

“What could you possibly have for me there?”

“You’ll see.”

I come to a stop in front of the old lighthouse. Savina knows what this place is and what The Raven Group uses it for, so I can imagine her confusion.

I get out of the car and go to her side.

Bending down, I remove her offending shoes, not surprised at her complaints when I get a good look at them.

There are marks along her skin from where they’ve dug into her flesh.

I’ll be burning those later. Even fucking shoes aren’t allowed to leave marks on her.

I scoop her out of the car and make my way across the sandy ground to the old wooden door of the lighthouse.

I finagle the key from my pocket and hand it to Savina. “Unlock it.”

She takes it from me without protest and slips the key into the lock, and the door creaks as it swings open. Not all of the members of The Raven Group have a key to this door. I do because one of my roles in the organization is torture, and this is where that little game is performed.

I elbow the light on and swing the door closed behind us.

The room we step into is small and drafty.

In the center is a set of brick stairs that lead to the top of the lighthouse.

No one ever goes up there because there’s no reason to.

It’s the rooms on this level that matter.

There are several of them, and I go to the one directly to the right of us.

When the door swings open and I step inside, I set Savina on her feet. I hate that her feet are only covered in stockings, but her heels were her only other option, and those will never touch her feet again.

“Why are we here?” she asks, her voice laced with confusion and a hint of fear.

The room is dark, which is the reason she asked. She hasn’t yet seen what’s inside the room. There’s a rustling sound, and I choose that moment to flip on the light. My Vicious sucks in a breath when she gets her first view of what’s across the room. Or rather, who.

“Who is that?”

“Joseph Brooks.”

Confusion lines her face. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

The tendons in my jaw tighten when I enlighten her. “He’s the man who stole you from your bed and delivered you to Henry.”

She sucks in a sharp breath and her eyes dart back to the man strapped down on a low table.

He’s naked except for a pair of dingy boxers.

Several leather straps hold him down on the table, including one across his neck.

There’s a ball gag in his mouth that’s stretching his lips open wide.

He’s dirty since he hasn’t bathed in a year, and he smells like old rotten fish, but there’s not a mark on him.

“He’s been in my basement for a year,” I inform her, and her head jerks around, her shocked gaze meeting mine. “I wanted to kill him a thousand different times and in a thousand different ways, but I kept him for you.”

Her lips are pressed into a firm line, and there’s no mistaking the anger lighting her eyes. This man tormented her by stealing her from her bed and delivered her to a madman, and as far as she believes, then later sent her threatening letters to torture her some more.

“Are you the reason he stopped sending those notes and pictures?”

“He didn’t send those letters. I did.”

The color leeches from her cheeks, and she takes a step back from me. “Y-you sent those letters?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I needed a reason for your father to hire a bodyguard.”

“But you said you weren’t behind the attack.”

The muscles in my right eye twitch. “I wasn’t. That attack was random, and the person behind it has long since been dealt with.” He’s actually one of my first victims in regard to Savina.

She grabs a chunk of her dress, lifting it a few inches so she can fully face me. The color has returned to her face, and her eyes narrow. “Do you have any fucking clue what those letters did to me? How terrified I was. I wouldn’t leave my house for a week after that first letter.”

Her eyes slide closed, and it’s like her body is too weak to hold itself up anymore. Her shoulders slump, and her head falls forward.

I go to her, wrapping my arms around her middle. She stiffens against me, but doesn’t pull away.

“Baby.”

She peels her eyes open and looks up at me.

Fire burns in their dark depths, anger at me for orchestrating those letters.

I don’t blame her for feeling the way she does.

I’d hate me too if I were in her shoes. I fabricated a situation without regard to her well-being.

It wasn’t my finest idea, but it still led us to where we are today, so I can’t force myself to regret it.

It’s what’s behind that anger that brings forth my own rage. Lingering fear. Not from the letters I sent, but what was done to her in that basement.

“You will never feel that kind of fear again. I’d destroy the fucking world for you and every single person in it. I am your wrath and the protective steel wall that surrounds you.”

I’ll eradicate every fucking threat, no matter how big or small, before it has a chance to come near her.

She pulls in a shaky breath and gives Joseph a brief glance over her shoulder. “Why keep him alive this long?”

“He’s my wedding present to you.”

“And what am I supposed to do with him?”

“Whatever you want. Saw off his fingers. Remove his eyes. Slice his skin into tiny ribbons. Cut out his organs. He deserves whatever you decide to deliver.”

Her eyes widen the more suggestions I give her. “I couldn’t…” She shakes her head. “I can’t do those things.”

I run my hand up her back and grab the knot of hair she has twisted up on the back of her head. I tug her head back and peer down at her. “We both know you’re capable of it.”

“I…” Her eyes dart away, looking at a spot over my shoulder. It takes her a moment, but she pulls her gaze back to me. “You’re wrong. I can’t do any of those things.”

“Savina,” I growl her name. Her eyes flicker back and forth between mine. “You forget. I know all of your secrets. Even the darkest ones. I gave you the name Vicious for a reason.”

She licks her lips, and for a moment, my attention moves to her mouth. Her peach-colored lips glisten from the moisture.

“Let me go.”

I release her and take a step back.

“I need a change of clothes. I refuse to ruin this dress.”

I stuff my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “I’ll buy you another one just like it.”

She gives me an incredulous look. “That’s not possible. Adele Bastien makes one-of-a-kind dresses, and it takes years to get on her schedule.”

“Adele is a distant cousin, so it won’t be a problem.”

Her mouth drops and it’s cute as fuck.

“What?” she says loudly. “You’re lying.”

“I assure you, it’s true. How do you think you and Emersyn managed to get a showing with her several weeks ago? The dress you’re wearing? I had her make it a year ago.”

“A year ago?” She nearly chokes on the words.

“Yes, Vicious. A year ago.” I jerk my chin to Joseph, who’s watching our exchange with frightened eyes. I took him off the drugs that kept him unconscious a couple of days ago. I want him fully awake and aware for what Savina has in store for him. “Now show me just how vicious you can be.”