Chapter Forty-Six

It took a while for Blake to calm down, and I understand why. Maxim can make the strongest men break with just a look. He pulled nearly every intimidation trick he could have with Blake, and she didn’t waver. She was composed and calm until he left, then the dam burst, and rightfully so. She’s so fucking strong, I don’t even think she sees it. Zayden and I do, though.

Zayden ended up scooping her from my arms and carrying her into the bath. They just sat there silently as I massaged Blake’s head, slowly lathering her hair until the water ran cold. Afterwards, we got her dressed in comfortable clothes and tucked her into my new bed. I’ve been tired of staying in the spare bedroom or Zayden’s room since mine is the largest in the house, and since there is no way Zayden would sleep without Blake for even a single night, I purchased an Alaskan King, the biggest and best on the market.

Blake is lying in between us, her head resting on my chest and her legs intertwined with Zayden’s, before she breaks the silence.

“Is he the man? The one you’ve been worried about from the start?”

I share a look with my brother before turning to look at her beautifully mismatched eyes, giving her a tight nod. She lets out a disappointed sigh as her head nods.

“Makes sense. I get it now.”

The room is quiet again for several more minutes before she swallows roughly.

“How do you guys know him? He’s not from here, right? His accent…” She trails off, goosebumps smattering her skin as she does.

Zayden reaches over, rubbing his hand up and down her arms like he’s trying to soothe them away. I know he won’t talk about it. He never does, and part of me doesn’t want to go there either, but a larger part of me knows it’s important.

“The night our parents died. I didn’t lie when I said I was the only one at the neighbors. I was. Zayden snuck out to follow them. We were nine, and he was too curious for his own good.”

I pause, looking over to see Zayden spacing out, a tortured look on his face as he stares blankly at the back of Blake’s head.

“He followed them out of the apartment complex and one block over to their dealer’s house. He hid in the bushes and peeked in through the side window. Zayden watched as our dad was getting high, his brother, our uncle, was trying to force himself on our mother.” I grit my jaw, remembering the way Zayden recounted what he saw, what he felt, and how he wanted to help her but didn’t know how. Peeking over at my hollow brother, I mourn who he used to be, who he was before that night.

“She fought with him, and then when the police barged in and guns started blazing, our uncle was too pissed Mom wouldn’t give in, and he slit her throat, right then and there. Somehow he was able to sneak out the back before the cops could find him, and everyone else in the house died, so no one was sure who was in that house. Except for Zayden.”

I pause for a moment, smiling sadly.

“You know she used to call us Dom and Zay? Never our full names. That’s why it threw us so much when you started to. It felt…serendipitous.”

Blake looks at me, her eyes practically drowning in empathy before she turns to face Zayden. He won’t meet her eyes, though, so instead, she grabs his hands, wraps them around her waist and forces his head into her neck. I watch as he goes easily, doing whatever she asks of him, and I even notice his muscles relax the smallest amount when he smells her scent. It’s something comforting, a basic human comfort, and the fact that she gets that about Zayden, especially, just proves how perfect she is for us.

“He was our only living relative, and since no one tied him to being there that night, he was given emergency custody of us. Knowing what we knew, though? What Zayden saw?” I shake my head as that day comes back to me, more vivid than I’d prefer.

The weeping friends, coworkers, and neighbors of our parents slowly start to leave once the caskets are lowered. The sun is setting fast, and the priest walks away with a sad shake of his head toward Zayden and me. I know that my cheeks are wet, but I don’t want to wipe them away. That’s my mama’s job, but she can’t do that anymore, and if she can’t, no one will.

Zayden hasn’t cried since the night they died, the night he ran home, bursting into the neighbor’s apartment and found me. I’ve never seen anyone cry so hard.

Since then, though, not a drop has been found. He’s angry instead and quiet.

We were moved into our uncle’s house the next day, and we hate it. We can’t stand being in the same home as our mother’s killer. I tried to get Zayden to go to the police, tell them what he saw, but he said there was no point. That cops wouldn’t believe a junkie’s kid. Maybe he’s right, but maybe they would believe him, and he can rot in prison. That seems too easy for him, though.

Slimy hands land on Zayden and my shoulders, a convincing sorrowful sound to his voice as he speaks to us.

“It’s time to go home, boys. Say your goodbyes.”

Anger fuels me as I stare at the holes in the ground where our parents now lie. The cops showing up may not have been his fault, but something tells me based on the way Zayden described things, our mother would have ended up here regardless. Probably our father too once he witnessed his own brother killing his wife.

Zayden and I share angry looks, and I notice that Zayden has something silver in his right hand. His knuckles are clenched around it, half of the knife hidden up the sleeve of his long shirt. His eyes are begging me to help him, and without hesitation, I do just that.

We move as one, and I spin around, stomping on his foot. It takes him by surprise before I punch my fist into his face as hard as I’m able. While he’s disoriented, Zayden swings around, sinking the knife into his side. His mouth opens in shock, and he leaps for Zayden before I kick him in the balls. Dad always told me only cowards kick other men in the balls, it’s not fair in a fight. There isn’t anything fair about cutting open our mother’s neck, though, so fuck fair.

He groans and cups himself, falling to the ground as Zayden stabs him in the back. Somehow, he’s able to reach his hand around, gripping the handle of the knife and pulling it out. He swings it around, aiming for Zayden, when I leap on top of him. We wrestle with the knife, and I’m able to bend his wrist enough to force the blade toward him.

I put all of my muscle into pushing it into him, but I’m not strong enough. That is, until Zayden practically climbs onto my back, increasing my efforts as his hands come over mine. Together, we sink the blade into his chest, his mouth opening and making a croaking like noise for several seconds before he stops breathing.

Breathing heavily, I move to stand, and so does Zayden. We stare at our dead uncle’s body for several seconds before Zayden leans forward, grabbing the knife out of his chest and putting it to his neck. His hand moves last, slicing a line straight across our uncle’s neck. Blood squirts out from the move, soaking Zayden and my shirt, neither of us seem to mind, though.

Suddenly, a slow clapping sound comes from behind us, and fear grips me. Oh god. We’re gonna go to jail. We just killed our uncle, and we’ve been caught. I look to Zayden, silently questioning if we should run. He doesn’t give me anything, though. He just stares at me blankly as if he wasn’t there anymore before we both turn to face our witness.

A tall man, wide as a building, with blond hair and silver eyes smiles down at us with a grin that turns my stomach. His hands are still clapping as his eyes look over Zayden and me from head to toe before looking at our uncle.

“Moi malchiki, that was impressive,” he says, his thick accent making it hard to understand his words at first.

“Who are you?” I ask.

His eyes swing to me as he smirks.

“You can call me Maxim.”

I sneer as I continue recounting the story, Blake’s eyes unblinking as she stares at me, begging me to continue.

“He helped us move the body, took it to a local pig farm, and we watched as he was eaten completely within a matter of hours. Then he gave us a proposition. Go into foster care and more than likely be separated or come live with him. Train under him. Work for him.”

Blake frowns. “You guys were only nine, though.”

I nod. “The perfect grooming age, according to Maxim. Obviously, we chose to stay together, and Maxim legally adopted us. We were moving out of the US and into Russia practically overnight. For four years, we trained seven days a week, fourteen hours a day, and on our thirteenth birthday, we were sent on our first job.”

Her beautifully full lips part in disbelief as she looks back to Zayden, who is seemingly coming out of his haze.

“How long did you guys work for him?” she asks him, no doubt testing to see if she can get him to talk about this.

He doesn’t say anything for a while before he begins running his fingers through her hair.

“Until we were eighteen. Dominic had been planning our escape for years, and he was able to arrange fake deaths for us. We were careful for years, never using our real names until recently, when we knew he had no doubt forgotten about us.”

“Why use your names at all? Why not ensure he never finds you by changing altogether?” Blake asks.

Zayden doesn’t respond for a moment or two before he shrugs.

“They were just strung-out junkies, but they loved us with everything they were capable of. To let the name die felt like a?—”

“Dishonor,” I finish for him.

He nods his agreement as Blake smiles sadly.

“And he’s the friend you called from prison?” she asks Zayden before he nods. “And what, now he’s showing up at your house, asking you guys to call him?”

I frown at that. “That’s what he said? That he wants us to call him?”

She nods. “Why? Is that weird?”

“Yeah,” Zayden says. “I talk to him often. He even calls Dominic once in a while.”

“So, he just said that as an excuse for why he was here?”

“Definitely,” Zayden and I say.

“Well, then what does he want? Why did he come?”

“Oh, I’m sure he does want us to call him. I think he also wanted to get a look at you in person, assess you. He doesn’t view you as a person, he views you as a bargaining chip, property, something to be lorded over our heads.”

She cringes at that, staying quiet for several seconds.

“So, what do we do?”

“We do nothing,” I say. “You are on total lockdown until we can kill him.”

“You guys are going to kill him?”

“Of course,” Zayden scoffs as I continue. “It’s the only way for all of us to stay safe forever, baby.”

I cup the side of her face, and she blinks up at me.

“I’m so sorry for the pain you’ve suffered.”

Turning on her side, she faces Zayden as she speaks to him as well.

“I’m so sorry you saw what you did. That you lived through literal hell with no one to be there and hold you through it.”

His arms tighten around her, to the point I’m concerned he will hurt her before he nods tersely.

“I have you now, angel. Everything happened so that I could hold you in my arms. I don’t regret a thing.”

She smiles sadly, knowing that isn’t the truth. I think it’s Zayden’s truth, but in the grand scheme of things, she doesn’t believe him, and that’s okay. Her lips come to Zayden’s, their kiss slow and passionate at first, as if she was trying to heal all of his pain with this kiss.

I curl my body around her, hugging her as close to me as I can when she breaks the kiss with Zayden, pressing her lips to my mouth as he transitions to her neck. We sandwich her between us, and she groans in pleasure as she rests one hand on each of us.

“Use me,” she murmurs against my lips. “Both of you. Let me take the pain away, at least for a little while.”

I smile sadly at my sweet girl. Her heart is so big, so big for us, and as she brushes her ass against my cock, it’s rock solid and ready for that tight little ass. I love being in her warm cunt too, but there is something about being buried in her ass that does something to me. My tip leaks a bead of precum just at the thought of it.

Pressing one more kiss to her, I push her toward Zayden, allowing him to entertain her while I make quick work of my clothes. They begin devouring each other. Blake is in her sleep shorts and tank top while Zayden, ever the confident man that he is, is laying there naked from the bath. I watch as Blake grinds herself against Zayden, whimpering as his cock rubs over her clit even through her clothes.

Once my clothes are on the floor, I slip behind her once more, hooking my fingers into her waistband and peeling the shorts down her legs until I’m greeted with her perfect bare skin. She’s still dry-humping Zayden, which is fine by me because I want to get her prepped for me anyway.

Cupping the bottom of her full ass in either hand, I spread her apart for me before lowering my face, resting my tongue against her pussy before dragging my tongue all the way through her until I land on her asshole. She shudders against me as she arches her lower back, encouraging me to do it again. I oblige, licking her from cunt to ass over and over again until I just start eating her ass.

Slipping a finger inside her pussy, I lick and suck on her while Zayden grinds against her clit. It’s enough to have her moaning and panting with every touch until I take my finger that is now soaked from her pussy and push it into her ass. There is a little resistance without the lube, but something about her taking me with only her own arousal easing the way is so goddamn hot.

Her body tenses at the intrusion, and she lets out a strangled breath.

“Zayden, play with her pussy,” I say, and he happily complies, pushing two fingers inside of her as I slowly get her to relax around my finger.

Eventually, she begins moaning again and even starts moving against my hand. I gather enough saliva in my mouth, spitting directly onto her beautiful ass before pushing another finger inside her. She’s panting heavily, and I know she’s about to come, so I stop my movements and Zayden does the same.

“Wh-what’s going on?” she whines. “Make me come!”

“We will, angel, but we want to play some more first.”

“But you always give me several orgasms,” she pouts, causing me to let out a chuckle as I press a kiss to her back.

“Patience, babygirl. A little edging never hurt anyone.”

“I’m pretty sure it has. They don’t call it blue balls and blue ovaries for nothing.”

I roll my eyes at her but can’t contain my smirk. I look over her shoulder at Zayden, gesturing for us to roll, and he nods in agreement. I slowly ease my fingers out of her, moving to lay propped up against the headboard on my back. I wait as Zayden rolls them, plastering Blake to my chest as he covers her.

My hands go to Blake’s hips, and I lift them up until I get the right angle before I grab the lube from my bedside table. As much as I’d love to see how wet I can get her, how much I can use to fuck her ass, I want this to be pleasurable for her. So, I gather a good amount onto my fingers, circling her asshole a few times before I push two fingers back inside of her.

“Fuck,” she groans.

I only push in and out of her a few times. Her muscles relaxed and more than ready for me as I pull out once more, and line her up. She begins to whimper, I’m assuming in protest, until she feels the head of my cock on her. When I push her down, it takes a moment for her muscles to relax enough to let me in.

Letting her set the pace, I allow her to slowly sink down onto me, inch by inch, until my base is nestled in between her ass cheeks. I groan at the feeling, my fingers digging into the front of her hips as she half sits, half lies on me.

“My turn.” Zayden smirks before lining his cock up to her pussy and pushing inside.

She gasps at that, her back trying to lift off of me in an attempt to flee from the pressure. I don’t allow her to though, pinning her against me as Zayden slowly works himself inside of her.

When she’s completely stuck between us, I begin pressing light kisses to her neck as Zayden leans forward and begins sucking on her nipples.

“Oh god, yes,” she groans as we slowly begin fucking her.

Our pace is languid and gentle when her lust-drunk eyes come to me.

“I told you I wanted you to use me, this feels like you two are worshiping me.”

“We do, baby,” I say as I cup her face gently.

She shakes her head at that.

“Worship me another day. Use me today.”

My cock throbs at her words, the temptation to fuck her until her asshole is raw is strong, so strong. She seems to decide she’s going to take matters into her own hands, though, because she grabs my hand on her face, lowering it to her throat and forcing me to squeeze. Fuck. I love the feeling of her slim throat in my palm. It’s so fragile, so breakable, and it makes me feel like a god that I have the power to decide whether she breathes or not, lives or not.

Without meaning to, my thrusts become deeper, more frantic, and the beast inside of me beats its chest at the pleasure it gives me.