Page 34 of Revenge

“Relax, Charlee.” I tilt her chin up until her eyes meet mine. “I’ll take one in the downstairs bathroom.” With that, I close the door and get the hell out of there before I explode. When I don’t hear movement on the other side of the door, I shout, “You’ve got ten minutes, Princess. Use them wisely.”

“Asshole,” she mumbles back. My lips twitch at her insult as I change my clothes and head downstairs to the kitchen.

The rules have certainly changed. I just need to figure out if the game is still the same.

Chapter Twenty-One

Charlee

I hesitate only a second after Asher leaves before I set the bracelet down on the counter and disrobe. The last thing I want to do is get it dirty since I finally have it back. My ankle hurts when I put pressure on it as I climb inside the shower, but not as badly as when I first fell. The hot water feels like a thousand needles burning against my frozen skin but soon it ebbs away leaving a warm caress in its wake. Mud and debris swirl down the drain along with the last of the aches in my muscles. I contemplate staying in here until the hot water is gone, but I don’t want Asher coming in while I’m naked. The candlelight surrounding me only adds to my relaxed mood.

Steam covers the mirror when I step out. I’m able to put a bit more weight on my ankle as I reach for the towel off the rack, which is good, but it’s what I find waiting for me on the counter that has me stopping in my tracks. A fresh pair of clothes is resting against the white tile in a neatly folded pile next to my mom’s bracelet. It’s a bit unnerving to know Asher could sneak in here without me knowing, but I squash those feelings down and dress.

I slip into the red lace thong and discover he didn’t give me a bra. Terrific. I knew he’d find some way to punish me for escaping. The bastard. I knew he’d find a way to punish me for trying to escape. When I slip the white t-shirt over my head a faint hint of whiskey and tobacco hit me. This one falls to the top of my knees just like the others he’s given me to wear. Never any pants or shoes, though.

A quick glance in the mirror reveals my hardened nipples are very much evident through my shirt.Terrific.

For a brief second I debate hiding out in the bathroom all night, but I‘m wondering if that was his plan all along. Even still, I don’t want Asher to come looking for me. He seems calmer so far and I don’t want to push him too far just yet. On the way out, my eye catches the gleam of the bracelet. I shove my wrist through the silver hoop and fight the tears that want to fall. I miss her more than anything. Having it back feels like a piece of me has come back and it settles my nerves some, but I still need to go and face the music for what I’ve done. With a heavy sigh, I open the door and tip toe down the stairs as best I can with an injured ankle toward the glow of candlelight, where I hear the rumbling of deep voices.

All conversation stalls as their eyes fall on me the second I enter the kitchen. Asher’s hair is wet, darkening the brown. He leans against the counter, shirtless, with all of his tattoos on full display. The dim glow from the candles flickers against his golden skin. Smoke from the cigarette resting in between his fingers hovers around him like a halo. It’s a sin that the devil looks this mouthwatering.

Feeling exposed, I cross my arms over my chest and that only makes things worse. It only draws his attention right to my chest. There’s no missing the gleam of satisfaction behind his eyes. I knew he did it on purpose. I swear I even see the makings of a smile begin to appear on his face, but just as quick as I see it it’s gone.

My eyes are drawn to the rippled wall of muscle like a magnet. There’s a collage of ink spanning across his chest, but it’s the blue lily over his heart with two fallen leaves that catches my eye. Something so delicate and soft is such a huge contrast to the hardness of the man standing in front of me. He’s an anomaly, one I’m determined to figure out.

“Have a seat.” Zane strokes the ends of his beard with his right hand as he gestures to the open chair between him and Axel. There’s nothing friendly about his words, but there’s no malice either. He’s simply giving me an order.

My eyebrows pinch together as I study him. I’m not sure what I expected when I walked in, but it isn’t them offering me a seat at the counter like I’m their guest instead of their captive. Despite the gesture, my feet stay rooted in place. The cold wooden floor is causing the ache in my ankle to throb, but I still wait them out. I’m on edge with this change in dynamics and haven’t figured out what their new game is.

“Sit, Princess.” Asher’s words come out rough and deep. I feel the intensity of it down to my bones. It’s enough to knock me out of my stupor.

I nod and hobble toward the black leather chair. The cold of the leather touches the exposed skin of my legs and it’s a bit of a shock to the system, but I manage to keep myself together.

“Ankle still bothering you?” Asher’s eyes don’t miss a thing.

“Hurts a little, but other than that it’s fine.” My hands clasp together on the black granite counter in front of me as I take in the rest of the kitchen. Everything is black, from the counter to the appliances. The only contrast is that of the dark wooden cabinets. I’m beginning to think Asher isn’t fond of colors in general.

The silence is deafening. I feel eyes burning into the side of my face and as much as I try to fight it, I can’t help looking in his direction.

Axel adjusts the package of peas resting between his legs and glares at me. A tiny pang of guilt hits me. Perhaps I did more damage than I thought.

“I’m sorry about kicking you in your…” My words die off as I gesture with my right hand toward his junk.

Axel groans, but doesn’t say anything else. It seems there’s more than one brother who can hold a grudge.

“He’s fine.” Asher waves off his brother’s words.

“Tell that to my aching dick. I think she broke it, man. I’m never gonna be able to use it again.” Axel cups the peas closer to his junk. “She kicks like a fucking center back.” He narrows his eyes at me and my cheeks burn from the attention.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip as the guilt eats away at me, but given the chance I would do it all over again. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t fight for my freedom.

Asher shakes his head at his brother and pours a shot of whiskey. He uses a long tatted finger to slide the shot glass in front of me. “Here, Princess. This’ll warm you up and you’ll forget all about your ankle.”

I toy with the condensation on my glass and stare down at the amber liquid.

“You have done shots before, haven’t you, Hellcat?” There’s still a bite to Axel’s tone, but it’s softening up a bit. He may even forgive me for nailing him in the balls by night’s end.

My face heats under their scrutiny. “I’ve done shots before. They’re just usually tequila.”

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