Chapter 31

Dmitri

I think I broke her.

Scratch that. I know I broke her.

I asked Daelyn for the name of the man who owns her, and at her weakest, most desperate, vulnerable, rawest moment…

She said my name.

Hell, she didn’t just say it. She fucking screamed it.

I’m not gullible enough to believe she meant I owned her. It was a fluke. Like I said, I broke her. Her brain no worky no more. Neither does her body, for that matter.

Grinding my molars, I carefully free her from the cross and catch her as she collapses against me. Fear and adrenaline have been coursing through her system for hours, along with enough endorphins to knock out an elephant. I pushed her right over the edge today, and she screamed my name at the end.

She’s falling for you , sighed the angel on my shoulder.

Good, use that to your advantage , tipped the devil on my other side.

Cautiously placing her in the tub, I get water running and dump a bunch of bath salts in. Cocooning her between my legs, keeping her close to my chest, I hold her as the tub fills. Her body’s been through a lot. Not just with me, but with whoever owns her.

Holding her hand, I lace our fingers together and study the burn scar on her wrist. It’s ugly. The thought of someone bringing Daelyn pain, branding her like she’s cattle, has me seeing red.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I count to ten and relax. She’s safe with me. Always will be.

To make sure I don’t add to her misery, I massage the parts of her I can reach. Rough sex can bring on some serious cramps afterwards, and if I can minimize them, I will.

Her body fits so perfectly with mine. So soft. So beautiful. So real. I think that’s what I’m attracted to most about her. I’m not a fantasy for Daelyn like I am for the members of the Monarch. I’m an equal. She’s a fighter, like me. She endures, like me. She hurts, like me.

When I make it to the joining of her thighs, I gently caress her pussy, feeling the slickness there as my cum finally leaks out of her. My girl lasted exactly seven hours and thirteen minutes in that playroom. She took everything I gave her.

I think I’m in love.

No, you’re not, you’re just in a nice headspace , the Devil says, poking my heart with his pitchfork.

Mmmm but it’s so nice to be here finally. It’s been a while , says the dipshit angel floating away on a cloud.

Ever since I was a kid, I always imagined having these two angels playing tug of war with my conscience. It makes me stay humble and aware.

“As long as I draw breath, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you,” I whisper against Daelyn’s ear.

She’s still out cold.

Keeping her against my chest, I cup my hands and pour warm water down her exposed skin. Then I snag a washcloth from the little basket to my right and use it to gently wash her face. Man, she’s got a lot of hair. It’s tangled and damp and sticking to everything. Gathering as much as I can in this position, I try to twist it, so it’ll stay up. The whole knot unravels the instant I let it go and all her good smelling hair falls into my face.

Some of it tickles my nose and I sneeze.

We stay in the tub where I keep reheating the washcloth I’ve placed across her tits until I think the bath salts have done all they’re going to do for her. Getting out is tricky, but I manage.

“Daelyn,” I say, trying to wake her.

Her head flops back on my shoulder. “Don’t go.”

Sitting on the edge of the tub with her on my lap, my arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright, I dry her off. “I’m not going anywhere, but you gotta wake up for me, baby.”

“Stop.”

I freeze, my brow furrowing. “Am I hurting you?”

“Don’t do this.”

She’s lost me. “Don’t do what? I’m just trying to dry you off, Dae.”

“Please don’t make me do this.” Her breaths punch out in short bursts. “Stop, stop, stop!” Daelyn jerks herself upright, her eyes flying open in panic.

I let go immediately, and she slips off my lap and crashes onto the floor. “Oomph!”

Do I touch her or not? “Daelyn.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” She shakes her head, contradicting what she’s saying. “I’m okay.” My girl looks around like she doesn’t know where she is.

“Easy, baby…” I slide onto the floor to be at her level. Nodding my head, I keep my tone soothing. “Breathe, Daelyn. You’re safe. It’s just me here with you.”

Her chin trembles and she looks confused.

“You passed out on the cross. I gave you a bath and massaged your muscles. I was just drying you off.”

Daelyn’s exhale trembles from her lips. “I’m okay.”

No, she’s not, but she’s going to be as soon as I find out who’s terrorized her for so long.

I slowly inch closer. “Can I touch you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

“I’m gonna be okay.”

“Yes, you are.” Especially if I have anything to do with it.

“I’m safe.”

“One hundred percent.” God… damn . What the fuck kind of monster has a chokehold on her like this?

Daelyn lets out a sigh and tries standing, but her legs wobble and give out. “I think I’m broken.”

“Yeah… sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” she says, trying to stand again. My girl looks like a newborn fawn, all wobbly and frail. “I loved it.” Daelyn fumbles with her first step and I catch her. “Jeez, you really know how to break your toys, man.”

Her dark humor makes a laugh bubble out of me. “You’re not my toy.”

“Pity,” she says, sighing when I cradle her in my arms and carry her out of the bathroom. “You’re the one who owns me. If you won’t play with me, who will?”

My heart stops in its tracks, and I freeze midway to the door. “What did you just say?”

She’s already fallen asleep in my arms again.

???

I leave Daelyn in my bedroom, tucked in tight on my cot. I can’t stay here and watch over her while she sleeps. Not with her last confession swinging fists in my brain.

“You’re the one who owns me. If you won’t play with me, who will?”

That was probably her subspace talking.

Yeah. Definitely.

So why do I feel like it’s more than that? Why am I suddenly willing to do anything to make that true? If Daelyn was mine, and I could play with her whenever I wanted. Worship her day and night. Take care of her. I’d be the luckiest motherfucker in the world if she were mine.

Or the stupidest, considering she belongs to someone else, and is only here to ruin me.

I keep forgetting that crucial part. I’ve blurred a lot of lines between us. Made some big fuck ups. Am I so desperate for comfort and to belong to someone who might love me for exactly who and what I am that I’ve run straight into the arms of an enemy?

Yes.

Which is why I’m putting space between us and am currently in the kitchen making a late dinner.

“D, we need to talk.”

I pop a grape in my mouth and turn to Ryker. “About?”

Oh fuck. It’s not just Ryker. Vault’s here too. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What’s going on?”

“I think you better sit down,” Vault says.

“I think you better tell me what the fuck you two are doing coming at me like this.” It makes me feel cornered and caged, and I don’t appreciate it.

“I did some digging on your girl.”

“Okay.” I cross my arms and lean against the stainless-steel counter, giving Vault my full attention. “What did you find?”

“She’s been in the foster system since she was seven. She was rehomed several times until she stuck with a family and turned eighteen. Has a degree in—”

“We already went over her AA degree and medical coding job.”

Vault glances over at Ryker, then back at me. “She’s fostering someone.”

“Yeah. Addie.”

Ryker’s brow digs down. “You know about Addie already?”

I shrug. “Daelyn’s gotten into something she’s trying to work her way out of. Addie’s a big reason for it.”

They both look crest fallen. “Do you know who Addie is?”

“No.” And I don’t care. If she’s important to Daelyn, that’s all that matters.

Vault steps a little closer. “Addie’s been in the foster system since she was two. She landed with Daelyn after her last foster’s house burned to the ground.”

“Okay.” I don’t get why they’re acting like this is terrible news. “Daelyn’s busting her ass to take care of her.” I’m not about to go into the details with these two yet. I’m still gathering my intel.

Vault’s tone grows even more serious. “Addie’s parents died in a murder suicide.”

Ryker looks down. His jaw clenches and body language is too stiff. I don’t like it.

“The dad beat the shit out of the mom a lot,” Vault says cautiously. “The cops were called to their house often, but no charges were ever pressed.”

That’s awful. I feel sorry for the woman, but she’s not my problem. “I’m not following what this has to do with Daelyn.”

“Matthew Kenzel is Addie’s father.” Vault’s brow pinches. “Annie was her mother.”

“Okay.” I fail to see the problem. I don’t know a Matt or Annie Kenzel. “What’s the issue?”

“Annie was short for Anya,” Ryker says. “Anya Petrov.”

I… I must be hearing things. Did he just say Anya Petrov ? “What?”

“We found the paternity test she had taken, along with her medical records.” Ryker steps closer, knowing what this news is doing to me. “Addie is your half-sister, D.”