Chapter 23

Dmitri

My first cage fight was on my sixteenth birthday, and I was so terrified and restless, I’d barely slept the night before. Tossing and turning, I remember thinking one thing: Dad’s gonna watch .

One might assume I was stuck on that thought because I’d been nervous about my performance. Fuck that. My form was perfect. My agility, damn good. I’d blown Silas away with what I’d been able to accomplish in my short time training with him. Naw, it was something else that ate at me…

“You need to get your ass in the MMA for real, Dmitri. Don’t waste your time here in this shithole.”

“I like this shithole.” Bob and weave. Pivot, kick . “I’m happy here.”

“Kid, no one’s happy here. I’ve built my empire on the misery of others.”

I look around the gym that’s falling apart and has a leaky roof. “Old man, if this is your empire, you need to upgrade.”

Silas’s raspy chuckle makes me grin. “You excited for tonight?”

“I’m ready to fight.” I jab into the punching bag, practicing exactly what Dad and Silas have taught me for the past three months. I know it’s probably too soon for me to go in the ring, but I can’t wait anymore. I don’t care if I get my ass handed to me. I just want to swing and hit something that’ll bleed like I do.

“Your dad’s coming, right?”

“Yeah.” Dread hits my gut at the thought. I still have a hefty bruise on my torso from my mom hitting me with a chair last week. She’s been off the booze lately and her mood swings are insane. If my dad sees the huge bruise, will he know it’s not from a fight? Sounds unlikely, but any possibility of getting caught, and having what my mom does to me found out, has me freaking. So far, I’ve trained with a shirt on. Silas keeps telling me to take it off, but I refuse.

Even if I don’t have a fresh bruise, I’ve got a collection of scars I don’t need seen.

Christ, if Dad sees any of them, he’s going to ask questions. I’ve spent years coming up with lies for each mark on my body, just in case they’re seen, but I’m not confident I can say one of them to my dad’s face…

I toss and turn on the couch. Knox’s house is comfortable, but his sofa is too fucking soft. I’m used to my firm cot in the dungeon at the club. Not some squishy, plush shit like this. Punching my pillow, I readjust and sigh. Sleep evades me and I stare at my cell, desperate to text Daelyn and check up on her. It’s stupid, I know.

Fuck, I’m exhausted. Wired. Annoyed.

Flicking the lamp on, I frown at the book I bought today while shopping with Knox. Fucker dragged me into the romance section of a huge bookstore like it’s the secret passage to happiness. For all I know, he’s right. What did I have to lose by at least checking them out? And with Daelyn on my mind, I’d headed right to the dark romance because I figured dark and dangerous love stories fit my mood best. Now here I am with a vampire book I never planned to read.

Turning to the prologue, I stare at the words on the page. Okay, well… that’s actually kind of interesting.

Four hours later, I’m invested and can’t put it down. Sleep can fuck right off. This guy’s mate is in danger, and neither of them even realizes it.

About six more chapters later, I crash into a fitful dream…

“Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday, dear Dmitri. Happy Birthday to you!”

Mom claps when I blow out the candles to my cake.

Dad sits across from me with this huge smile on his face and hands me a knife. “Cut it up, Son.”

My mom makes me the same yellow cake with white icing every year for my birthday. I don’t like it, but I’ll never tell her that. I just eat it like a thankful son should and tell her what a great job she did on the decorations and lettering.

“I have a very special present for you,” she says, her eyes beaming with delight.

I’ve never gotten presents on my birthday. On instinct, I look over at my dad.

Okay, he’s just as surprised as I am. That’s weird, right?

“It’s for both of you.” Mom gets up and heads over to her purse. She pulls out an envelope and places it in front of me. “Open it.”

I tear the flap and pull out the slip inside. It’s a black and white picture of a… “What is this?”

“You’re going to be a big brother,” Mom squeals. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

I’m not sure what reaction she’s looking for, but it’s not the one she gets.

“What?” Dad stands up and snatches the sonogram picture from me. He scans the photo, brows furrowing, then his jaw clenches tight, and he glares at my mom. “Anya.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.

He pries her off him and backs away. “I… I need a minute.” He grabs his keys and leaves.

“Come on, silly.” Mom squeezes my shoulders and kisses my cheek, unfazed that my dad’s just bolted. “Cut the cake. I’m starving!”

Numbness spreads through me. I’m going to be a big brother. My mother will have another child to hurt. My dad’s got another mouth to feed. I can’t understand how this could have happened. The way my parents have been fighting lately, I find it hard to believe they would—

Okay, I’m not thinking about that. I’m nervous enough about tonight, I don’t need one more thing to make me nauseous.

Eating birthday cake with my mom, seeing how happy she is, I latch onto the hope that this will be what turns her around. She’s having a baby. That explains why she stopped drinking. If she can stop drinking, she can stop hitting. Right?

Later, at the fight, I go against a twenty-four-year-old that’s my size and weight. I look older for my age, so no one raises issues about me as far as I know. Which is good, because I stare at my opponent and turn him into the bad guy, just like my dad said to do.

I turn him into my mom.

And I don’t stop swinging until the bell rings and I’m ripped from his limp body by Silas and two other men.

My dad never shows up for the fight…

Knox is stupid loud in the bathroom, clearing the gunk out of his throat and brushing his teeth. He showers, dresses, and comes out in all his good morning glory. “You look like shit. Want breakfast?”

“No.” I sit up and run a hand across my buzzed hair. It’s gotten a little longer since I haven’t clipped it for a couple of weeks.

“I gotta go into the club today. A new stove is being installed and I want to make sure it goes smoothly.”

“K.”

“Wanna come?”

Yes, but in a different way than he’s referring. “Naw, I’m staying back. I want to finish this book.”

Knox’s coffee mug clanks on the counter. “I knew it. You’re a closet reader.”

“That’s not even a thing.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “You’re sucked into the story, huh?”

“Seems like it.”

“Don’t be ashamed. Reading is a great form of escapism, bro. It’s not cheap, but at least it’s not drugs.”

I scrub my face and head into the kitchen with my jeans slung low on my hips and no shirt on. “Get the fuck away from that machine before I break your face.”

Knox throws his hands up and backs away from the espresso machine.

I make us both an acceptable drink and hand him his. One sip has Knox’s eyes rolling in ecstasy. “Fucking marry me, D. This is so good.”

He’s the only person who can say shit like this to make me laugh. Around others, Knox is a very intense guy who’s not easy to get along with. But it’s an act. His armor. We’ve been through too much together for him to be hard around me. “Do not tell Ryker or Vault that I’m reading vampire porn. They’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Knox tips his mug and takes another sip. “Fuuuuck, I could come in my pants drinking this.”

“TMI.”

He shoves on his shoes and grabs a baseball hat, putting it on backwards. “I have no clue when I’ll be back.”

“It’s fine.” Not like I need a babysitter or anything. “Thanks for letting me crash last night.”

Knox waves off my gratitude. “You know you’re always welcome here.” He pauses before heading out. “You going back to the Monarch tonight?”

“No.”

I’m going back to Daelyn’s house.

???

When Knox leaves, I feel off kilter. I enjoy being alone, but not in a space that isn’t mine. Going back to the Monarch Club and hiding in my dungeon won’t help yet. I think I’ll just get pissed off that I don’t have Daelyn there to play with.

Waiting until nightfall to see her is already proving to be near impossible.

She ghosted me. I’m in a headfuck. We need to stay away from each other.

At least for now.

Needing a distraction, I pick up the romance book again. Knox isn’t wrong. Reading is a decent escape from real life, but unfortunately, these damaged characters on the page are a little too relatable. Figures I’d randomly pick a book that has a fucked-up hero I can identify with.

Christ, did I just compare myself to a hero ?

I’m mental.

Hours pass and I finally finish the story. Spoiler Alert: They live happily ever after. They also have a lot of sex. I think I could have gone without that part because it just makes me want the same thing.

Tossing the book on the couch, I lean forward and bury my head in my hands. The scenes in the book were hot. The danger was intense. The heroine reminded me of Daelyn because she was an adorably hard-headed baddie.

Daelyn’s words from the other night filter into my mind. I’m a bad person who does bad things .

Closing my eyes, I sit back and focus on her face, the trepidation in her ocean eyes, the frustration in her tightly knit brow… the way she pouts.

The way she screams my name.

The way she rides my cock.

The way she keeps eye contact with me while she orgasms.

I made her connect with me. It might have been brief, but it was the most erotic fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Considering I’m an experienced Dom in an elite sex club, that’s saying something.

She was just so pure . Daelyn’s sweet and raw and perfectly made for a man like me to spoil.

She said she was bad.

I think I like her bad.

Fuuuuuck .

Unbuckling my jeans, I pull out my hard dick, spit in my palm and start stroking.

I’d give anything to have her ride me right now. I want her to wrap her hands around my throat and squeeze until black eats the fringes of my vision. I want her to sink her teeth into my skin and break it to taste my blood.

I stroke myself harder, squeezing tighter.

I want to bury my face in her cunt. Rim her tight little ass. Hold her down and fuck her into oblivion so she can’t walk away from me again.

I want to tie her up and come all over her body. Hold her hostage and use her like a toy.

My balls draw up tight. Heat blooms down my back.

But I can’t come like this. Not without more stimulation. Not without pain.

Grabbing my balls, I tug so hard it’s a wonder I don’t tear them out. My eyes cross as my orgasm barrels out of me, ropes of cum spurting from the pierced head. Hips jacking up, my shoulders digging into the back of the couch, I fuck my hand until the temporary high fades, and I’m left with a mess to clean.

After a quick shower, shave, and clothing change, I give up waiting any longer. Weaving through traffic, I make it to her house in about half an hour and park my bike between the two dumpsters again.

Already, my head is a little calmer. Scanning the street, I count the number of cars parked. Listen to music playing from someone’s backyard. The smell of BBQ eventually wafts through the air. The sun finally sets.

I’m not even sure if Daelyn is home or not. Still, standing like a creepy watch dog lets me breathe a little easier. She said she does bad things. I can’t imagine what they might be, but I’m sure she’s not the only one in her circle of friends who does bad shit. At least that’s the rule of thumb in my world.

And Daelyn is definitely in my world.

A tiny, blue light glows inside her home. I think it’s from her computer. The house is otherwise dark, but I finally see her shadow pass the front window, and I’m suddenly like a puppy waiting for my owner to let me out of my cage to give me attention.

Heart galloping, I cross the street and sneak into her backyard where the sliding glass door awaits.

Without touching it, I look down and notice a four-by-two jamming the slider.

She doesn’t want me to come inside .

My heart sinks into the abyss that swallows all my joy whenever I manage to find some.

“Okay.” I step away, disappointment climbing up my body. “Okay.”

I have to respect her wishes. I need to walk away and stay away for good.

Heading back to my bike, I swear it’s like my limbs have turned to rubber. My legs can’t operate right. My joints are too loose. Climbing on my bike, I take one last look at her house, preparing to let go for good when my cell goes off.

Whoever it is can fuck off.

Unless it’s Ryker. Or Vault. Or Knox. Or Sophie.

Damnit .

Pulling it out, I blink at the notification, fully aware that I’ve likely lost my motherfucking mind and have started hallucinating because there’s no way I’m seeing what I’m seeing on my screen.

Daelyn : Hey. Sorry for leaving like that. I didn’t want to wake you and the entire day got away from me.

The air leaves my lungs in a ragged sigh. Straddling my bike, I text back and stare at her living room window, waiting for her reply.