Page 9 of Pretty Monsters

I clench my jaw and try to convince my dick that it's not the time to rise to her challenge. Most of the time I keep a tight control over myself. In my life, errant reactions, even normal biological ones, can get you killed. Raven Blackthorne, however, is managing to turn me into more of an animal than the approximately sixteen years I've spent living under the rule of her father.

Finally, she buttons the jeans and bends over to retrieve a white tank top from the bag. It does little to conceal the dusky rose color of her nipples. About to snap, I take the backpack from her and root around until I find an old hoodie of mine and thrust it into her hands. "Cover your tits," I snap at her.

Lucien's head pops up and he glares at his sister. Raven's face reflects the girlish innocence I first saw last night. I can't decide if she is that innocent, or if she's a master manipulator. Either way, he's no match for her.

He gently pushes her hair back from her face and tips her chin up. "I know you barely remember me, but I remember you. I will take care of you, okay?"

She smiles shyly, and nods.

"Good, but please, stay covered around Sin. He thinks with his dick almost every time we're around a girl, and I don't want to have to kill my only friend for touching my sister."

He ends his statement staring at me, as if he's subtle about his message. I laugh in response. We both know he could try and kill me, but I'm the one who has been doing the dirty work since we were kids. He doesn't have the guts to do the job.

"Pull the hood over your head," I order her.

Her eyes flash with defiance, but she gives in. Breaking her is going to be easy. And what a good little doll she'll be when I'm done.

She stuffs her waist-length hair inside the hood and pulls it up to hide her delicate face. If I had my way I'd keep everyone from looking at her, except for me.

I pull the backpack over my shoulder and take point. It isn't that I don't trust Lucien, but my instincts are faster, and I'm the only one of the three of us willing to kill to get us out of here.

Raven doesn't know the house like we do and steps on one of the many creaky boards Lucien and I memorized the location of years ago. I give him a look, and without a word he knows I expect him to pick her up and carry her down the stairs. Drunk or not, this house is filled with straight up killers who are used to being on constant guard.

She's tiny at around five-foot-four, a full foot shorter than me, and she doesn't appear to weigh more than a feather. He lifts her easily, and the three of us silently race through the house.

At the bottom of the stairs we are in the most vulnerable position we'll face until we make it outside and have to run across an open lawn the size of a football field.

I hold up my hand to stop him before he runs into the back of me. We both flatten against the wall, slipping instinctively into the shadow created by the poor lighting given off by the antique sconces.

One of Damien's thugs chases a maid around the foyer, and we hold still until her girlish giggle indicates they've rejoined the party in the parlor.

My heart pounds as we turn the corner down the rear hallway and move steadily toward the back door. Off to the left I hear Damien's voice demand the maid I paid sink to her knees. His wife is likely passed out from a combination of booze and pills as she is most evenings. The guards are all in various states of being drunk or high thanks to the staff members I encouraged to distribute laced booze or joints. With any luck a few of them will overdose before the night's over. Then at least, there won't be as many of them to come after us once they realize we're gone.

I hold the back door open for Lucien, and he moves through with his sister. His arms seem to be trembling, and I shake my head at him. He's in decent shape, but he has focused on his appearance only when we hit the weights. Carrying a body for an extended period of time is beyond his skill set, whereas it's second nature to me.

As soon as we get clear of the porch I stop him. "You aren't going to be able to run with her across the yard." I set down the backpack I filled with clothes. "Give her to me, and get ready to run."

No one has noticed we're outside with the boss's prized possession, the daughter he plans to sell for more territory to sell drugs, guns, and girls in, but that could change as we hit the yard. I shut off the motion lights earlier, but I can't guarantee no one dicovered it and turned them back on.

Lucien glares at me, but passes her over to me. I shift her from the cradled position he held her in and toss her over my shoulder. She makes the tiniest of noises, but I take the opportunity to smack her ass. "Be quiet," I whisper.

She tenses, but otherwise doesn't react.Good girl, I think. By no means should she trust me, but right now I'm her best chance at a life free from cruelty.

Lucien and I didn't want to scare her, but George Campbell, Sr. is a sadistic bastard. Damien knows this, and apparently doesn't care that he's essentially condemning his daughter to death by shipping her off to be a part of that family. He's been married three times, and every time his wife has met a horrible ‘accident’. If his son has picked up even a fraction of his father's predilections, Raven's life would be as miserable as it would be short.

His name has been on my list for a long time. I'd have to add my own to it if I stood by and allowed this innocent creature to die at the hands of a monster who would use her then cast her away when she was too broken to fight back. It's the fight he enjoys most.

When I say I want to break Raven, I don't mean completely. I just want to cause some cracks in the perfect façade she has. Nothing that beautiful lasts. The more jagged her edges the more fight she'll have, and against her father, she's going to need it.

* * *

The paththrough the woods to the cabin is pitch black. Even if it weren't a new moon, light barely penetrates the thick canopy of the old growth in the forest. It doesn't matter though. Lucien and I have travelled through the woods so many times that we make it to the cabin without having to use a flashlight.

I set Raven down outside the cabin, and she stands off by herself with her arms wrapped around her middle. If I were a different man I might offer her words of comfort, but while I am many horrible things, a liar isn't one of them. Damien Blackthorne has extensive resources, and it is extremely unlikely we will survive going against him in the long run.

Somehow I don't think that's what she needs or wants to hear right now. For me, I'd rather die fighting him than stand still and be stabbed in the back. Maybe it's just easier for me to make this move, because I'm certain death is coming for me.

"What now?" Lucien asks, crossing his arms. "It's obvious you've been planning to leave for a while now. I'm glad it has worked in our favor, but were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?"

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