Chapter Five

Malice

Walking into the office building I shared with Torment, I ignored the door with my name on it. It had been so long since I helped anyone. For the longest time, I relied on my ability to help kids, to be their advocate, someone they could talk to, someone they could trust. Over the last few years, I saw less and less, until one day, I stopped all together.

I didn't know why I stopped.

I just did.

I turned my attention to other things. Mainly club shit. But even now, the thought of walking into the clubhouse sent a chill down my spine. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be anywhere. What I wanted, I needed to avoid, because if I gave into my twisted desires again, I wasn't sure either of us would survive.

I needed someone to help me off the cliff where I was precariously balanced.

Storming over to Torment's office, I didn't bother knocking and barged in.

"Dr. Scott?" Torment looked up at me.

"I need to talk," I stated, holding onto my last thread of sanity.

If he couldn't help me, I didn't know what I was going to do.

"I'm with clients right now."

Seeing the couple on the couch, I growled, "Get. Out."

I didn't need to repeat myself.

The couple fled.

Fast.

Slamming Torment's door behind them, I paced his office.

I didn't know where else to go. I couldn't go to the clubhouse. None of my brothers would understand and I was almost positive Montana would kill me on the spot if he found out what I did last night.

I wanted so much to talk to Father Dominic.

But the dead didn't speak.

Agitated, I paced back and forth in my brother's office as my restlessness rose exponentially. I was on the verge of losing it big time, and with Father Dominic gone, I didn't know what else to do.

I needed help.

Help, I wasn't sure even my brother could give me.

But I had to try.

I would try for her.

"Malice?"

Shaking my head, I sneered, "Gideon. My name is Gideon."

Torment frowned, sitting up. "Alright. Gideon."

"And I am calling on doctor-patient confidentiality. What I say in here is between you and me. You talk to anyone, and I mean anyone, I will kill you."

Torment slowly nodded as he stood.

Holding his index finger up to his lips, I said nothing when he walked over to his desk and reached under it with his left hand.

The second I heard a click, he looked at me.

"I've stopped the recordings. You are free to talk."

"I need help."

Walking back over to his seat, he sat.

"With what?"

"I did something last night. Something I didn't want to do, but I had to. I couldn't stop myself. She couldn't stop me either. Neither of us wanted it, but we knew we couldn't fight it. It has been building for so long. I don't understand it all."

Torment leaned back in his chair, listening intently.

"I never wanted this. I am the product of my genetic material. Like him, I hurt everything I touch. I don't know how to be anything else," I admitted, balling up my fist, before turning fast and punching a hole in the wall.

Hanging my head, I murmured, "I'm evil, Zander. All I can promise her is pain. Years of pain."

"Why do you think you are evil, Gideon?"

Turning to him, I yelled, "Weren't you listening? I am my father's son!"

"Why do you think that?"

"Because it's the truth. I am just like him. I enjoy hurting others. I get off on it. The more pain I inflict, the more aroused I get. I can't get off any other way. I've tried everything. Even abstinence. All that did was aggravate me more."

"You are a dominant, Gideon. You live the lifestyle twenty-four seven. Your sexual cravings are nothing to be ashamed of. It's just who you are. What you like. You know this. Denying who and what you are will only exacerbate any situation."

Shaking my head, I roared, "IT'S MORE THAN THAT!"

"Then explain it to me," Torment calmly asked. "Why? Why is being dominant so wrong?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer, Gideon. I can't help you unless you talk to me."

Shaking my head, I couldn't tell him.

I couldn't tell anyone. Not even Father Dominic knew. No one did. It was my shame. My burden. My punishment. And yet, I knew the longer I held it in, the more damage I was doing, not only to myself, but to those around me. I wasn't the person everyone knew. I was something more. A danger not only to myself, but to those around me. I lived my life on a hair-trigger and anything could set me off.

"Answer me this then," Torment said. "You asked me to call you Gideon. Why?"

"Because it's my name."

"Not a name you use. In fact, isn't it true that you prefer Malice?"

"Malice is my club name."

"It's also the name everyone calls you. Even your clients. You are the only brother in the club who doesn't care if the entire world knows you are a member of the Soulless Sinners. You prefer using the name Malice. The world knows you as Malice, not Gideon Scott. In fact, isn't it true that even Father Dominic called you Malice?"

I nodded.

"He was your priest. One of the few people on this planet that you truly trusted. Yet, you never allowed him to call you Gideon. Why?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"I think you prefer the name Malice because your father called you Gideon."

I said nothing.

I wouldn't give him any more ammunition.

He was too close.

Sighing, Torment firmly said, "I am very good at what I do, Malice. I can read the signs just as well as you. Maybe even more, and what I am seeing is very telling. Would you like me to tell you what I see?"

"No."

"Then answer my question. Why did you ask me to call you Gideon?"

"I can't tell you."

Taking a deep breath, Torment lightly shook his head. "I treat all kinds of patients. Some are eager to talk, while others, I have to pull it out of them. Then there are those like you. You want to tell your truth, need to tell your truth, but for some reason, your fears prohibit you from talking. Do you know how I treat those patients, Malice?"

I nodded. "I did the same with volatile teens."

"Then you know what I'm about to do next, don't you?"

I nodded, balling my fist tightly.

"Your father beat you."

I stood there, trying to breathe in and out.

One breath at a time.

That's what Father Dominic told me to do when all I wanted to do was kill.

"He tortured you."

Another breath.

In and out.

"He raped you."

In and out.

Just one more breath.

"A few years ago, the club found you near death."

"Stop."

"You went to Florida. Didn't you?"

"Enough."

"But that wasn't the only time you went, was it?"

"I said stop."

"He found you in the system, didn't he? He visited you regularly. Trained you from a young age. He said so himself in California, when we rescued your sister. He was happy to see you. He asked if you wanted a turn. That your sister was perfectly trained, like you."

"Please stop."

"Then tell me!" Torment shouted angrily.

Falling to my knees, I roared while tears streamed down my face.

"YES!"

Torment didn't move as he sat there in shock.

It was one thing to assume and speculate, but the game completely changed when the truth came out. Even I knew the only way he was going to get me to say the words was to push every fucking button I had until I couldn't hold it all in anymore.

Gasping for air, I clearly said, "I was four when he found me. Every year, no matter where I was at, he found me, paid off my foster parents, and took me back to Florida. He taught, trained, and molded me into the man I am now. Even when I knew it was wrong, I still went back to him. Like an addict seeking his next fix. He was my drug. I couldn't stop myself."

Silence surrounded me, and when I turned to look at Torment, I found him staring intently at me.

"I didn't age out of the system at eighteen like everyone believes. I was fifteen when I left. I left because I knew if I went back into the system, he would find me again. He always found me. And when he did, he would force me to have sex with her. That was his goal all along. All the beatings, the torture, the rapes were to make me into a carbon copy of him."

"Who did he want you to have sex with?"

Looking at the only man on the planet who now knew my deepest secrets, I revealed my darkest shame. "My mother."

I gave him credit.

He held it together.

Not even a flinch.

Just thinking about it made me want to vomit.

"Malice, you are not your father. You saved your mother and sister. They are safe. Your mother is recovering and getting the help she needs, and Ivy is protected. She is loved. Luc will kill anyone who touches her. You know that, don't you?"

"Still doesn't remove the stain he left on my soul. I am damned, Zander. Damned to spend an eternity in Hell for what he turned me into."

"No, you are not." Torment shook his head vehemently. "You are nothing like your father."

"I hurt her," I whispered, looking at him, showing him my fear. "I didn't mean to, but every time I'm around her, all I want to do is punish her."

"Who?"

"Arianwen."

Torment slowly stood.

Fear and concern etched in his face in stone.

"What did you do, Malice?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

I knew he knew, but he needed me to say the words. Because once they were out there, I wouldn't be able to take them back.

So, I said the words he needed to hear.

"I claimed her."

"Silver!" Torment shouted as he rushed past me into her penthouse. "Silver, where are you?"

Running down the hall, he kicked open her bedroom door, only to stop dead in his tracks.

"Holy mother of God."

Walking up behind him, I saw what he saw.

There, laying on the bed, was the one woman who could destroy me, beaten black and blue from head to toe. My handprints, clear as day, around her neck. When she looked at me, her eyes widened in fear as she scrambled back against the headboard, trying to put distance between us.

I didn't like that.

Moving to stop her, Torment held up his hand, halting me.

"Don't you fucking move."

Doing as he said, I stood there while Torment slowly approached her bed. Her eyes wild and frantic as she vigorously shook her head. Stopping where he stood, Torment clenched his fist and slowly turned his head to look at me.

"You son of a bitch. You fucking beat her!"

I growled as I surveyed the destruction I'd inflicted on her small body. I should have known better. I was bigger and stronger than her. In my anger, I could have torn her apart. How she was still intact, I would never know. Sighing, I closed my eyes and begged God to forgive me.

"Get the fuck out of here, Malice," Torment sneered angrily. "Leave. Right now, unless you want Montana to fucking kill you, because that's exactly what he's going to do when he sees her and puts two and two together."

He was right.

I was a dead man walking.

There was no other way around it.

I saw it clearly now. My actions last night were unforgivable.

I was just like him.

I knew that now, and when Montana figured out the truth, he wouldn't think twice before putting a bullet in my head. Part of me wished he would. I dreamed of ending the years of misery and torment I had suffered. I wasn't worth the effort. I was death and destruction. The very depraved thing my father cultivated me to be.

I was my father's son.