Chapter 4

Ophelia

The chain rattled as I ran it through my hands. The rough, rusted metal slipped across my fingers as I stretched out its length. While the links were light enough to maneuver, they were also incredibly strong. After the men left the basement, I'd spent some time studying the anchor and the cuff around my ankle, but there was no breaking through them. That left me with one option.

Sam lifted her head from the dirty blanket on the concrete floor. "What the hell are you doing?" Her voice was heavy with sleep.

"Trying to see how much chain I have to work with," I said, crawling away from the wall to test the length of the chain. It seemed long enough for what I needed to do.

"For what?"

"I think I can put this around his neck."

Her eyes went wide. "Don't, Ophelia. They'll kill you. Even the nice one will kill you if you try that."

I sat back on my ass. "Am I supposed to just give up? Let myself be one of their sick little playthings?"

Sam shrugged. "If you kill Alex, then what? Ain't no way you're getting that chain around his brother's neck. You'll be dead either way. And then I'll be dead because we'll starve to death down here."

"One of them has to keep a key on them."

Sam dropped her shoulders. "How do you plan to do this?"

I looked at Sam. Months of living in this basement had wasted her away. She wouldn't have the strength to do what needed to be done, even if I thought she'd try. "Do you think you can be a distraction?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to be involved. It is what it is, Ophelia. The quicker you accept it, the better."

I sat up on my knees. "Please, Sam. I have to try."

Sam curled up on her blanket and turned her back to me. "I'll cough. That's it. That's all I'm willing to do. Gunnir will fuck me to death if he thinks I had anything to do with it."

I inhaled a deep breath. "That's all I'll need."

"Your funeral, Ophelia," she said. "But it better not be mine too."

* * *

Alexzander

I layin bed and thought back on the evening. I'd felt an itch of guilt when I saw her fall forward after Gunnir struck her with the bat. She probably hardly felt a thing at the time, but she was feeling it now. She'd feel plenty now that she was in that house. With us.

Ophelia's body was perfect, and she was such a sweet little thing too. Always so hospitable at the diner. I felt another twinge of guilt for taking someone like her, but she was everything I needed. She reminded me of my mother, but not in a Freudian way. She was wholesome and kind. It was a blind draw toward familiarity. She felt familiar.

The moment we entered the basement, Gunnir had been on his girl. He'd been hard since he hit Ophelia. I wasn't hard until my hand rode up her warm thigh when I threw her over my shoulder. After that, the anticipation took over, making me ache with a hunger I didn't have before I got my hands on her.

My mind went to the moment I turned her over. Even dazed, she'd recognized me. The dark makeup surrounding her blue eyes had smeared across her pale cheeks, and dark lipstick had painted her lips. She looked fucking delicious. She was better than a steak laid out in front of me. She was like my mother's venison—soft and tender. I wanted to fight the temptation because she was injured, but Gunnir's threat hung above me. He would have pushed into Ophelia if I hadn't taken her, and I couldn't bear the thought of him getting to her first.

I shivered as I thought about my come dripping from her, something I hadn't seen in so long. I'd seen enough of my brother's come to last me the next four lifetimes, but it had been forever since I sank into one of their cunts. I always ended up in their mouths, as far from my brother as I could get.

But this one? She was mine.

Once I was inside her, it was as if she'd been made for me, and I'd have bled Gunnir dry before I let him take her. Anger rose inside me at the thought of it, even long after I left the basement. I wanted him as far away from her as he could get. He had his whore to sink into. He didn't need mine.

I got out of bed and walked into the living room. Gunnir was sitting on the couch, his fingers beneath his nose. My eyes narrowed as I sat on the chair beside him, and a sly smirk crossed his face.

"What are you smelling?" I asked.

"Your girl on my fingers," Gunnir said with a groan. He was basking in the scent of her and me.

"I told you not to touch her," I said as I rose to my feet. "And you're enjoying my come on your fingers, you sick fuck."

"She's not just yours, Alex."

My eyes stayed on him. Gunnir had taken everything from me. Every girl we ever had was his first and mine second, just as our father had done with him. I had to take what I wanted first, enjoy sloppy seconds, or be satisfied with their mouths. I wanted the freedom to go downstairs and fuck my girl's untouched pussy when I felt the ache in my balls.

"Let me have one thing. One fucking thing, Gunnir," I said as he stood to face me.

He towered over me, but I didn't waver.

"You have anything you want. We got that girl for you,but she's not just yours to use. Maybe it will teach you that following the dick ain't so bad."

"Fuck you," I snarled. "You're definitely our father's son."

Gunnir laughed. "Sure am. Maybe one day you'll realize that you're his, too. A Bruggar man gets off from the struggle, and you got off from the struggle," he said with a slow lick up his fingers.

"Fucking disgusting. Why don't you just suck my come out of her next time?"

Gunnir's eyes lit up. "Don't give me ideas, Alex."

Gunnir wasn't right in the head. He would absolutely do it, and I had a lapse in sanity when I suggested it. I wasn't right in the head either, but I'd had a chance to care about someone other than myself: my mother. She hadn't made me a pussy, but she'd molded an odd creation that had both the drive to harm and the control to harm less. But I'd never be able to turn off the way I was raised. The heavy hand of The Man reminded my body on a subconscious level that I needed to take what he wanted me to take. I was a fucking Bruggar, after all.