Page 88 of Seducer

“You could be on the short list to get a chance at this insane fantasy of yours.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You put all that together and you are coming with me to the club. Think of it as research. Think of it as knowing deep inside whether you could honestly handle the primal games they play. Because if what I’ve heard is true, the experience at the club will be mild in comparison.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. She had a damn good point. “Fine. I’ll go get changed. But we go through it once and that’s it.”

“Somehow, I have a feeling once will be enough.”

CHAPTER 22

Zach

“Go back to your goddamn room.”

The booming voice forced me to wince. I stood halfway down the stairs, hanging onto the railing as I tried to peer over it. From where I stood, the Christmas tree was bright, presents crowding halfway into the room. They were all in colorful paper and bows.

My eyes were open wide, hopeful Santa had brought me something.

The large man who’d insisted I call him my father bounded up from where he was sitting, the three other children in the house laughing and grabbing one present after another.

The woman who barely looked at me seemed annoyed.

“Frank. It’s Christmas. Leave the kid alone,” she said.

“He knows better than to interrupt our family time,” Frank barked and stormed up the stairs, grabbing my arm with one hand while slapping me across the face with the other.

While tears formed in my eyes, I’d learned a long time ago not to shed a single one. The beatings were always worse when I did.

But it was so hard not to sniffle. Santa had forgotten me. Again.

“Now, you march up to your room and stay there. If you don’t, I’ll use the belt. If you’re good, you’ll get dinner tonight. Now, just go. I don’t want to see your ugly face again.” He shoved me so hard I was pitched against the steps, pain shooting into my arm.

I bit back a whimper and struggled to crawl up the stairs.

As the other children, Frank and Cora’s biological children played.

I checked the GPS, determining I was in the right location. As I made a turn, I rolled my middle finger across my lip. The memory had come in a rush that afternoon while sitting in my office. Out of the fucking blue. Now the horrific visions were no longer just tethered to my nightmares.

They were invading my daylight hours.

I thought about what Jacob had warned me about. There was certainly no reason for that memory in particular to come to the forefront of my mind. Frank and Cora. While a belt had been used on me several times a week, the agony with them had been more about never receiving a kind word or nice gesture. Sure, I had clean clothes to wear to school, but that was onlybecause they’d been worried my teachers were tattle on my poor condition to social services.

I’d figured out later that Frank had been running for office and had made a proclamation about having a foster child, which had ticked him up in the polls. I’d been used. Nothing more.

They learned I wasn’t going to take it any longer when I burned their house down.

I’d been eight, the start of my illustrious criminal career.

Sadly, the loss of their home had been the best of all of the actions I’d taken after relishing the taste of revenge. I bore the scars to prove the assholes who’d vowed to care for me had been horrible people. Some of them were visible and some still festering deep inside.

At least I’d spared their lives. Others hadn’t been so lucky.

Initially, I’d found satisfaction in making them suffer, but even then, the highs I’d experienced at first had worn off, leaving me empty and cold. Just like when Blackwell Group had been created.

The three of us had lived through the virtual reality games, the violence feeding our darkness. We’d reveled in the successes, years of living frugally finally resulting in money beyond our wildest dreams. All three of us had lived the lifestyle of the rich and famous, including enjoying the company of women. We’d purchased lavish homes and vehicles. We’d eaten at the finest restaurants and traveled first class. After several years, nothing had been satisfactory. Hence the Obsidian Society had been created one dark night.

I’d enjoyed being a bystander in the games, but Xander’s inclusion the year before and his subsequent success in finding a mate had altered my pattern of thinking. I hadn’t believed that possible until seeing the Wild One dance.

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