Page 70 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

HER

W hy in the hell do I have cotton in my mouth?

I unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth and run it across my chapped lips. It doesn’t help because my salivary glands must not be working. I smack my lips together, but all it does is make that dry feeling more sticky.

A pinch in my shoulders has me adjusting my arms, but when I try to pull them down from over my head, they don’t move. Actually, something hard and unforgiving digs into my wrists.

My eyes pop open, and see absolutely nothing except blackness.

At first, I think there must be something covering my eyes, but then quickly realize it’s because the light is off and my eyes haven’t adjusted yet.

A small sliver of light catches my attention, and I jerk my gaze toward it.

There’s a door, and beyond the door there’s a bright light seeping in through the seams.

That’s when it hits me.

Reality.

I was in my art studio when I felt a presence come up behind me, at first thinking it was Ryker.

Then a prick to the side of my neck. My hand knocked one of my small paint containers from the table as I fell to the floor.

Seeing a set of familiar silver eyes staring down at me as my vision clouded and went black.

They were Ryker’s eyes, but it wasn’t Ryker who stared down at me.

I tip my head back, and my eyes have adjusted enough to notice I’m lying on the center of a bed with my arms stretched up with chains around my wrists, the other end wrapped around one of the slats in the headboard.

From the soreness already there, it looks like I may have been jerking against them for a while in my unconscious state.

A wave of cool air slides across my skin, and I look down. I’m naked, and my legs are just like my arms. Chains around my ankles and they’re attached to each corner of the footboard.

My eyes dart around the room, but it’s too dark to see much.

“Hello!” I call out. Maybe it’s stupid of me to alert my kidnapper that I’m awake, but panic is quickly setting in, and brain cells don’t work smartly when that happens.

A sinister chuckle comes from my left, and I swivel my head around just as a light is switched on.

I’m momentarily blinded by the white light, but it doesn’t take long for my eyes to focus.

The same man who stared down at me in my art studio, the one who has Ryker’s eyes, is sitting on a chair beside the bed.

What the hell?

He not only has the same eyes, but the same dark hair, square jaw, and nose as well. It’s eerie how similar they are.

“She finally wakes,” he comments. He even sounds like Ryker, except his voice isn’t quite as deep. “I thought for a while that the shot I gave you may have been too strong.”

“What did you give me?” I ask. Fear has the air in my lungs freezing. I’m not concerned for myself, but the little life I’m carrying.

“A concoction I made myself,” he replies.

One side of his mouth twists up. “Don’t worry.

It won’t harm the little asshole you’re carrying,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.

“As much as I want that thing out of your body, I promised my father I’d allow you to carry it to full term.

Or as full term as needed for it to survive in the world.

That little joy in your belly is his gift to his new wife. ”

Half of his words don’t register since my brain is still a foggy mess, but I retain enough. “What do you mean?” I can barely get the words out past the lump of terror crystallizing in my throat.

“We’ll get to that later.”

“Who are you?” My throat feels raw and scratchy, so it’s hard to get the words out.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?”

I don’t deign him with an answer because it’s obvious I haven’t, or I wouldn’t have asked.

“I’m Aiden, Matteo, or I guess Ryker’s , long-lost, dead brother.”

He’s lying. Ryker’s brother died when he was a child.

“His brother is dead.”

If it wasn’t for the creepy look in his eyes, he’d almost look charming when he smiles.

“Of course you’d think that. My brother never knew the truth. He thinks I was kidnapped and then found dead several days later. I was taken, but as you can see,” he throws his arms out wide, “I’m alive and well.” He leans forward and props his elbows on his knees. “You may know me better as Grant.”

My eyes widen, and a lead ball forms in the pit of my stomach. “G-Grant?”

He grins, and that creepy look in his eyes gets even creepier.

“How are my little sister and daughter? Life just isn’t the same without them.”

I don’t say anything, too shocked by what he just revealed. This is the man who tormented Lili for years. Touched and raped her repeatedly since they were children. Ryker’s “dead” brother. What in the hell kind of fucked-up coincidence is that?

I ignore his question about Lili and Harper—it’s none of his fucking business how they are—and get back to the news that he’s Ryker’s brother.

“How are you alive?”

He gets up from the chair, and I stiffen as he approaches the bed.

My arms jerk against the chains, and I wince when my sore wrists smart.

I’m going to have hellacious bruises. My eyes stay glued to him as he comes to the side of the bed and sits down on the edge next to my knee.

The light shines directly on the side of his face, and I notice an old yellow bruise on his temple.

That must be where Lili smashed his head with the stone statue.

“Don’t touch me!” I yell when he lifts his hand.

I try to slide my body over as far as the chains allow, but I’m stretched too fucking tight to get far. A sick feeling slithers over my skin when he puts his hand on my thigh, right above my knee.

“So smooth and soft,” he comments, a hint of reverence in his tone. “I always wondered what you would feel like.” He licks his lips. “Better than I imagined.”

“What do you want?” I try to keep the panic out of my voice, but I probably do a shit job of it.

He slides his hand up my thigh and lifts his eyes to me. It’s the look in his gray gaze that scares me more than what he’s doing with his hand. It’s full of ownership and a twisted sense of passion.

“What I want is what I should have had for twenty years. Ryker’s life and everything in it.” His expression turns hard, and his fingers dig into my flesh so much that I cry out. “It should have been mine. It should have been him who was taken.”

His words make zero sense, and I don’t have time to try and decipher them because his fingers relax and continue their trek up my thigh. Inches away from the crease in my leg, his hand veers inward. I try to close my legs, but it’s a useless effort because of the chains.

“For years, I waited,” he says, “and my patience has finally paid off.” His fingers brush against my dry folds, and I swallow the sudden bile rising in my throat.

Fear and anger have tears prickling my eyes, but I blink them away. I won’t give this man the satisfaction of seeing how much of what he’s doing is bothering me.

“Hmm… dry.”

He actually looks disappointed. He can’t honestly believe that I would enjoy what he’s doing. But then again, maybe he does in his little twisted mind.

“It’s okay. I’ll fix that.” Using his whole palm, he cups me between my legs. “You’ll be dripping wet by the time I’m done with you.”

I grit my teeth to hold back a scream. I want to yell and thrash and break this guy’s fingers one by one for touching me.

I turn my head away and focus on the thick black curtain hanging over a window.

There’s no light shining through the edge of the fabric, which means it must be night.

It was mid-afternoon when I was in my art studio, so several hours must have passed.

“Look at me,” Aiden demands, but I ignore him.

What’s Ryker doing right now? What did he think when he got home and found me gone?

I know he’s searching for me. Does he have any clue where I am?

Is he on his way right now? Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’s outside whatever house I’m in, getting ready to bust through the door and unleash hell.

I almost smile when I think about what he’ll do to this man.

It won’t even matter that he’s his brother.

“Fucking look at me!” Aiden screams.

As he yells the words, he jams a couple—or maybe it’s three—fingers inside me so hard that I cry out in pain. I think the chains may rip into my skin at how much the metal stings when I pull and fight against their hold.

He pulls his fingers out again, only to force them back inside. It’s only fingers, it shouldn’t hurt this bad, but Jesus, it does.

“Stop!” I scream and jerk my head around to look at him. I can’t stop the flow of tears this time as they track down my cheeks. “Please!”

As soon as my gaze connects with Aiden’s, his hand stops moving. His eyes appear crazed at first, but the look quickly fades, and calmness relaxes his features.

“That’s better,” he remarks almost placidly. “Keep your fucking eyes on me. I want you to see who’s touching you.”

I take a breath and try to slow my racing heart. I need to stay calm and rational. Ryker is coming, I know he is. I just need to hold on until he gets here.

“What are you planning to do with me?” I ask.

The smile he gives me is almost boyish, and it’s even more creepy than the possessive look he gave me earlier.

“Anything I want because you belong to me now.”

He removes his hand from between my legs, and my body sags against the mattress. I’m actually grateful when he slides it up my stomach. But then he pauses on my lower belly, and I go rigid when he applies light pressure.

“I fucking hate that thing growing inside you.” Aversion twists his features. “If it weren’t for my promise to Dad, I’d cut it out.”

Ignoring the fear that’s trying to short-circuit my thought process, I focus on what he just said to try to distract him.

“Your dad? Antonio, right? Everyone believes he’s dead.” Everyone except Ryker.