CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(144)

She left us. Could my mother have had another life-a whole other existence that I didn't know about?

The thought pulverized my heart. Not only did she have a family-tearing  us apart when the debt came for her-but she'd thoughtlessly given life  to another girl?

Jethro's head snapped toward me, his light-brown eyes flashing in the  darkness. I stayed as statuesque as possible. My gasp was the first  sound I'd made since the bar. Since I entered into an agreement with  Kite not to make him care, and the last conversation I had with my  brother for who knew how long.

Jethro leaned into my neck, whispering, "I see you fighting it. I see  you winning. You can't hide anything from me." Pulling away, his eyes  narrowed. "You'd do well to remember that. Don't give me a reason to  hurt you so soon."

Looking to his brother, he muttered, "She's the right one." His fingers  clenched and unclenched on my thigh. In a lightning move, he snatched  Daniel's wrist and jerked his probing fingers from my core. "She's the  right one and mine. Enough."

I couldn't stop the sigh of relief. Only one other man had touched me  there. Only one boy had seen me naked and taken my virginity. I never  thought I'd be in a situation where I'd be forced, and for a fraction of  a second I was grateful toward Jethro for stopping it.

"I can touch her if I want. Shit, I can fuck her too."

"I didn't say you couldn't. I just said … enough." He bit the word into pieces. Sharp, deadly, unforgiving.

Daniel tore his arm from Jethro's grip. "Fine. But don't climb up your  arse thinking she's just yours. She's not. She belongs to all of us."

There are others. Many others who have the right to help me ensure the debt is fully repaid.

"No. But she's mine until I say you can have her. Hierarchy, little brother. You know how receiving charity works."

"Fuck off, Jet." Pointing a finger at Jethro's face, he said, "Cut  changed a few things tonight at the Gemstone. He's named me VP-given me  your role."

Jethro settled into the seat, his broad shoulders brushing mine. "If you  think he did that behind my back, you're mistaken. I asked for time.  Cut was more than happy to grant it. After all, I'm the firstborn son of  a Hawk. She's the firstborn daughter of a Weaver. There are more  important things on my agenda for the foreseeable future."

My brain swam. Everything they said sounded cryptic and layered in code.  Cut? Was that a name? Gemstone? It sounded like a place, but that  didn't make sense.

"You've always thought you're better than me. But you'll see who  extracts a debt from flesh better when I get my turn." Daniel sneered,  his gaze bouncing from his brother to me.

I gritted my teeth against dropping my eyes or trying to turn invisible.  As much as I hated Jethro, I would make sure to remain in his good  graces as long as possible.

Daniel reached out and patted my knee, ignoring Jethro's icy look.  "Enjoy your time with my brother, because when you're mine … enjoyment  won't be something you'll be feeling."

Jethro sat forward, his suit rustling against the leather upholstery. In  his signature terrifying quietness, he said, "You disturb my work  before I'm through, blood or not, you'll pay the price."

The two men glowered. I didn't know either of them, but the air  shimmered with past conflict and animosity-hinting that this standoff  was nothing new.

"You're not untouchable," Daniel hissed. "You better-"

Jethro shook his head, eyes dark as amber. "Stop. There's nothing I  better do. Father didn't pick you. He didn't choose you." His hand came  up, casually checking his fingernails. "Life rewards those who deserve  it. And you-don't."

Jethro was calm, made worse with the swirling ferocious temper existing  just below the surface. The atmosphere thickened, changing the  breathability of the car's interior until I choked with the urge to  flee.         

     



 

Daniel trembled with violence.

Clive, the driver, never slowed, continuing through the night as if  brother rivalry and debts extracted from human misery was common. The  gentle rocking of the vehicle did nothing to relieve the anger between  Jethro and Daniel, but every wheel spin helped shed the fogginess I'd  existed in for the past few hours.

The fact I was trapped between two males who might explode at any second  helped drench my system in adrenaline, kick-starting my heart, dragging  me to the surface of being master of my own body once again. The heavy  drug-ocean receded.

I didn't witness what made Daniel concede-Jethro never moved-but he  growled a curse, then spun in his seat to glare out the windscreen. I  followed his attention, holding my breath at the soft glow in the  distance. If that was our destination, it was giant. A looming residence  breaking the darkness with false warmth and welcome.

My new home.

My new hell.

My end.

"It's called Hawksridge Hall. Take a good look, because it's the last  place you'll ever live," Jethro murmured. Grabbing a handful of my hair,  he tugged me closer. His hot breath disappeared down my dress, making  me tremble. "Hawksridge has been in our family for countless  generations. A fortune we built from nothing. Unlike you, we weren't  born into privilege. We earned our wealth. We deserved the titles  bestowed, and it's time to show you what we had to do to achieve that."

His fingers wrapped tighter, burning my scalp. "To dispel any thought of  running, there's over one thousand hectares of land. You'd never find  your way to the boundary. You're trapped." His lips grazed over my jaw.  "You're mine." Keeping his fingers tangled in my hair, he reclined,  pulling my neck into an uncomfortable angle.

The sadness I'd done so well at battling crested again. There wouldn't  be bars on my cage-or at least I didn't think so-but there was a  fortified moat in the design of woodland and lakes and hills. I wasn't  outdoorsy. I didn't know north from south.

But you do run.

I was fast. I had stamina. If the opportunity came, I wouldn't hesitate to put my obsession with running to use.

Until you fall and break your leg thanks to an episode.

My shoulders rolled. Not only was I trapped by a maniac family, but I was vertigo's favourite stumbler.

The car continued deeper and deeper. Every turn, I lost all sense of  direction and knew I would never find the gatehouse without a miracle.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at my hands in my lap. I willed sensation  to come back. They twitched, returning to life with a wash of pins and  needles.

They fell off my lap involuntary as we bounced over a cattle grate.  Jethro pursed his lips, looking at my offending limb on the seat beside  him. His gaze trailed up my arm to my chest.

I breathed faster at the calculating look in his eyes. Unwinding his  fingers from my hair, he trailed them down my neck, along my clavicle,  across my shoulder, and down my arm. "My brother was the first to touch  you below, but I'm going to be the first to touch you here." His hand  skated across to my breast, clamping around the sensitive tissue.

The soft cotton of my dress did nothing to protect me from the coldness of his grip.

"You seemed to want my attention at the café. Don't say I never give you  anything." His finger pinched my nipple, rolling it painfully. There  was nothing sexual about his hold-only punishment.

Giving up pretence of being under the influence of whatever he'd given me, I squeezed my eyes, swallowing back a whimper.

He twisted my nipple again, shifting from demeaning to the edge of  painful, but what made it worse was I'd wanted him to touch me there. I  would've willingly slept with him only hours before. Before I knew the  animal inside the cultivated man.

"You're too skinny. I prefer women with more … assets than you," he  whispered, cupping my other small breast. "However, your tiny stature  might prove to be a blessing with some of the things I have planned." He  pinched me again, turning my nipple like a corkscrew.

I flinched, forehead furrowing against the pain.

He chuckled. "I knew it was wearing off." His touch turned from painful  to excruciating. I bit my lip, barely holding back a cry.

"Just in time." Letting my breast go, he captured my hand, linking his  icy fingers through mine. There was nothing romantic or caring about  Jethro holding my hand-it was a pure reminder that I had no chance in  hell of getting free.

Vaughn. Tex.

I wanted so badly to talk to them. To beg for rescue. But I could no  longer be the woman I'd been. I couldn't be the workaholic who blamed  others for my unhappiness. I'd accepted my father's old-fashioned law  about not being permitted to date, because in all honesty, I wasn't  ready. I would never be ready. Because meeting someone meant the  possibility of falling in love. Which meant the worst pain imaginable  when they left.

If anything, Jethro had done me a favour. I never wanted male company  again. If I could return to my sewing machines with no other  companionship but my twin, I'd be happy, eternally grateful, and would  live the rest of my life in peace.