Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Nova

After nearly an hour of reassuring Waylen that Vox was just being a dick and wasn’t a threat to me, I finally managed to get him to hang up and go to bed. I’ve now spent the past fifteen minutes sitting in the center of my bed, staring at the envelope from last night, debating if I should open it or not. The longer I stare at the freaking thing, the more my curiosity grows. I groan and give into temptation. I pop the seal and pull the letter out, purse my lips, then take a deep breath, bracing myself for more fucking riddles. I have no idea if the guy leaving these letters are the Filthy Few as two horns has been calling them or not, but the fact I have received a letter from him and two more since then, has me thinking it is likely him.

Nova-Scotia

Many would love to see you fall victim and land on the edge of their swords but,

I will not allow that to happen to my brother’s daughter.

I drop the letter and scoot backward. I just stare at the fucking thing like it burned me. When I opened that letter I never expected to read that shit, I thought it would be more riddles not some declaration from my… uncle. Oh my God. I have a fucking uncle and he is the one who has been leaving me these notes! Shivers roll through me, I don’t know who my father is, my mom told me he left when I was baby and didn’t want anything to do with me, so why the fuck is his brother reaching out to me now?

Fuck it!

I reach for the note and take a deep breath before I continue reading.

Thomas is hiding a great secret, his idiot son wishes to lead the Haven Saints with your help.

To stop them you need to find the proof of the night your father died.

Your father made a grave mistake, he wanted all future sons to be free.

He never knew he would be graced with a daughter.

Don’t hate him for making that error, find the proof.

I’m doing all I can to free you from this fate your brother suffers through.

When the time is right, I will come to you.

I don’t know why in both letters he has left, he has called me Nova-Scotia. I get that I shouldn’t be so hung up on that part and more worried about the fact that he just admitted I have a fucking brother! I reread the letter a couple more times and allow his words to sink in.

I have a brother!

My father is dead.

I start to wonder what he looks like, is he like me? Is he older or younger? My mind is whirling with all these possibilities but they all come to a halt when I think of my mom. If I have a brother that means she either had another child I don’t know about or my father had another child and I have a half-brother. I return the letter to its envelope and open my side drawer to hide it in there but freeze when I see the matte black postcard with green writing.

A favor is a debt owed.

I debate the idea of asking the Filthy Few a favor for the first time since meeting the masked man. If they can grant me the information I need about this Haven Saints thing, maybe I could use that information to find out who my brother is and who my father was. But, the letter said Thomas and Nexus have proof—I need to find that proof and figure out what part they played in my father dying. I close the drawer, flop back on my bed and try to sift through this new information.

My dad is dead.

I have a brother.

Thomas and Nexus have proof of his death, why?

What is Haven Saints?

What fate does my brother suffer?

I’m making myself crazy trying to piece everything together with sweet diddly squat to go on, but I can’t seem to stop my mind from reeling.

How the hell did my life get so complicated?

Back home I never faced any issues like this. Here I am a daily target for Vox and his friends. Nexus is a prick to me every single minute. I’m being taunted and stalked by a masked guy. I have an uncle sending me secret letters.

“Fuck me!” I growl into the empty room.

“That is the plan.” I bolt upright and wince at the pain in my side, standing in the balcony doorway is my masked man. My ? Since when the fuck is he mine? I mentally facepalm myself. I swallow trying to ease my nerves. He eats up the space between us and climbs onto my bed, kneeling beside me. I tilt my head back and stare up at him, I can feel my emotions warring within myself.

“Is this a favor?” I blurt, call me crazy but I can tell he’s smiling even though I can’t see his face, his blue eyes are so expressive and tell me everything his features can’t.

“No.” That one word seems like it pains him. He runs his hands up my legs, sending a shiver down my spine. When he reaches the bottom of my sleep shorts, he halts his movements and flicks his gaze back to mine. My chest is rising and falling in rapid succession, the anticipation of what is to come has me growing wet at the feeling of his hands on me. It’s surreal to have such a reaction to him, I’ve never been this responsive to anyone—except for my daily tormentor but I refuse to admit that shit to anyone. “Take them off.”

I nod and grip the waistband of my shorts. Just as I am about to push them down, I stop. “This stays between us… right?”

He cocks his masked head to the side studying me. “Who else did you invite to fuck you?”

My jaw unhinges and I scoff. “No one!” I shout then wince from the sting in my lip. “I mean, your buddies aren’t going to show up and think this is a group thing and they can run a train or anything like that?”

His blue eyes darken as he stares down at me. “No one touches you but me !” The conviction in which he says those words has me believing him. I dart my tongue out and moisten my lips, then slowly push my shorts down my legs. I toss my shorts to the floor and attempt to close my legs but he grips my knees and forces them apart. The hungry look in his eyes as he stares at my pussy has me clenching on air. “You’re fucking drenched.” The voice distorter doesn’t hide the growl of approval in his voice. When his eyes flick back to mine I gasp at the intense look in those icy blue eyes. “After I slip my cock inside your cunt, you never let another touch you.”

I mull over his words for a second and I hate that a picture of Vox flashes through my mind. I know, I am a fucking freak. Who in their right mind would be considering never being able to touch the guy who bullies her every single day, but the need growing inside me for my masked, two horn demon has me nodding and agreeing to his terms.

“Shirt off, I want to see those tits.” Without hesitation I yank my shirt off. He snaps his arms out and cups my tits, when he flicks his thumbs over my nipples a moan escapes me. “You show these to no one, they belong to me now,” he snarls as he pinches my nipples until I cry out in pain.

“Yes!” I scream out, he releases them instantly then cups my cheek and brushes his thumb along my bottom lip, careful not to hurt the split.

“You have my protection now, no one gets to scare you, touch you or torment you aside from me.” My brows slam together at his words, but before I can utter a word he pushes on. “Turn around, bury your face in the comforter and get on your hands and knees.” Rational people would fight and scream for this stranger wearing a satanic mask to get the fuck out but not me, I do exactly as he says and wait. He runs his hand down my back and suddenly without my sight everything feels heightened. His touch, the small sounds that escape. When his finger tips graze the side of my ribs, I shudder but then his hand clamps down on the back of my neck, forcing my face further into the pillow restricting my airway.

“Who the fuck is Waylen and what the fuck do the numbers mean?” he grits out.

Panic flares inside me, I begin to think I’ve made a huge mistake until I realize he is referring to the tattoo on my ribs.

“Waylen is my best friend, the numbers 4221 mean forever together to love one another, ” I gasp out, he keeps my face pressed there for another minute before releasing me. I turn my head to the side and suck in a full breath.

“You’ll be getting rid of that shit,” he vows. Before I can protest he pushes two fingers inside my wet pussy. I lurch forward but he returns his hand to the back of my neck and forces my face back into the pillow. I moan, unable to control the sounds coming from me as he finger fucks me at a ruthless pace. I reach down and rub my clit, his growl of approval has heat gathering in my belly. “Play with that clit and come on my fingers, then I’ll destroy this dirty little cunt for any other man.” His words are my undoing, my entire body tenses for a second before a scream so loud rips free and I come so fucking hard, soaking his fingers with my release. The instant he pulls his fingers free I feel empty. I feel him shift behind me and the sound of his zipper fills the room. Heat unfurls inside me as I prepare myself to live out every woman's fantasy. It may not be a forest and I may not have been running but having a masked man break into my room, finger my greedy little cunt until I come, then fuck me with the mask on has the fantasy coming to life inside me that I never knew existed until now.

The sound of a wrapper being torn has some tension easing inside me. He may be a stalker and want to scare me but at least he is being safe about it. When I feel the tip of his cock prod my entrance I tense in anticipation.

“Last chance, once I slip my cock inside you, no one touches what is mine.” The pure dominance in his tone has me shivering.

“Okay,” I say quietly. The head of his cock pushes inside me and I am powerless to stop my eyes from snapping wide and a shocked gasp from escaping me.

He is huge!

If this is just the tip and I already feel like I am about to be torn apart I can’t imagine what it is going to feel like when he is fully sheathed inside me. I hear him grunt behind me as he slowly eases inside me some more. I’m panting and clutching the sheets in a vice-like hold.

“Fuck!” he roars as he slams the rest of the way inside me, unable to hold out any longer. A scream filled with raw pain rips out of me. I slam my eyes closed to fight back the tears that want to break free. In a gesture so shocking he runs a hand down my naked back trying to help me relax.

“Just… give me a second,” I grit out. He says nothing but remains still, giving me a moment to adjust to his size. I thought he would be a tiny bit bigger than his fingers, you know like most normal guys, but I never expected him to have a dick the size of a fucking baby arm!

“You good?” I can hear the strain in his voice through the distorter. Unable to speak, I just nod. “Play with your clit, it will help.” I do as he says and begin to rub myself. I’m still so sensitive and feel the burn begin to ease as he pulls almost all the way out then slams back inside. I cry out in pain but the more he continues to do this and I keep playing with my clit, the more the pain bleeds to pleasure and my cries turn to moans. “Fucking take this dick,” he shouts as he grips my hips and pulls me back to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck! I… I think I’m gonna come.” I’ve never been able to come again so soon after already orgasming. The fact he is able to wring two orgasms from me in the space of a few minutes is mind blowing for me.

“Come on my cock like a good little witch.” His words have my eyes snapping open but I can’t utter a single word as my climax slams into me with such a force that I lose all function of my body and I flop forward unable to hold myself up as I scream out my release. His pace doesn’t ease, if anything he picks up speed and the only sounds over our heaving breaths that can be heard is skin slapping on skin. “Fuck, Nova!” The sound of my name coming from him as he comes has me trembling and feeling… powerful that I was able to bring a man like him to such pleasure.

Most men would draw out their orgasm and thrust a couple more times but not two-horn, he pulls out of me and the sound of him zipping his jeans has me feeling cold and used. The second he is off my bed, I snatch the comforter and cover myself, turning over and giving him my back. I feel his gaze boring into the back of my head but I don’t say anything.

“Don’t get shy now, I know you are alone for the next week so I will be visiting you every night and you will be taking what I give.”

I scoff. “Whatever.” In a move I don’t expect, he grips my hair and yanks my head back so I am forced to look up at his masked face. “You’re hurting me,” I grit out through clenched teeth.

“Good. Remember this pain because if you deny me what is mine you will be punished. You want this to stop, ask the favor.”

“I won’t be in your debt,” I spit. My voice is gruff from screaming.

He releases me with a hard shove. “You already are. A favor is a debt owed, ask and all of this will stop.” He may have offered me his protection from everyone else but clearly that doesn’t apply to himself or his other masked friends.