Deceit (Gallows Hill Book 1), page 35
“Didn’t you just say that you’re basically one of them?” I scoff with a smirk.
His eyes search mine, his words hesitant.
“I don’t know…am I?”
The air is so thick, it’s suddenly hard to breathe. We both know what he’s really asking, and I don’t really know if I have an answer for him. Thankfully, the comedic relief is here, so I don’t have to give him a response right this second.
My door swings open and Liam leans in, planting a slobbery kiss on my cheek before he looks at both of us smiling.
“Soooo, when did this happen?” he asks with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“None of your fucking business,” Asher grouches as he leans his head back against his seat, a smile playing at his lips as he squeezes my hand tighter, like he can’t find it in him to be mad right now.
Liam’s mouth drops open.
“Is that a smile? Did you just smile?! For a girl? Oh my god! And you’re holding hands? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
His excited eyes flick to me as he shakes his head.
“Babygirl, you have magic love powers or something. All you have to do is look at a man and he’s head over heels for you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Asher scoffs.
“Oh no, lover boy. No going back now. I know what I saw. You’re into my girlfriend. It’s a good thing I love to share,” Liam smirks.
Asher rolls his head to Liam, a dubious look on his face.
“Or are you dating my soon to be wife?”
Liam frowns at that before shaking his head.
“I don’t like the sound of that. I had her first. Dibs.”
I can’t help but let out a laugh.
“You’re ridiculous,” I say as I push Liam out of the way. He quickly steps back, and I turn to Asher.
“I need my hand back if I’m gonna go inside.”
He looks down at it, as if he were contemplating how he could hold onto it for the night without chopping it off. Lifting our joined hands to his lips, he presses a featherlight kiss against the back of my hand.
I smile at the tender gesture.
“You don’t want to come in, do you? Stay for a while?”
His eyes darken, and I honestly think he’s about to say yes when his phone begins buzzing in the center console. I watch as his eyes shutter closed and when they open again, all desire seems to be drained right out of them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nod, trying and failing to hide my disappointment when he frees my hand and picks up his phone. I slide out of the car without another word, giving him a half a wave that he returns before I close the door and he answers.
“C’mon, I can’t wait to see the look on Vincent’s face when he finds out he has to share you with Asher too!” Liam practically giggles.
“You’re such a little pot stirrer,” I laugh with a shake of my head.
“Oh absolutely.”
Chapter Forty Nine
Skyla
Turns out, Vincent wasn’t as upset as Liam or I thought he would be. Vincent and Ronan were waiting for me in my room when I got back, and before I could even sit them down and explain my feelings for Asher or what happened, Liam word vomited it to them.
“Guess who I just found making out with our girl in the parking lot?”
It took half a second for Ronan and Vincent to simultaneously say, “Asher.”
Apparently, they saw it coming even before I did. We all talked about it, Ronan said it didn’t matter to him and Vincent said that as long as he is the one who gets to kill him if he hurts me, then he’s fine with it. Which is very on brand for him but sweet, nonetheless.
The next morning, Liam and Vincent got called away early. Assumingly, to be summoned for tonight. Ronan spent the entire day with me, though, and his watchful eyes tracked every move I made.
I’ve been trying to keep it together, to not picture how absolutely embarrassing and humiliating it will be to be so vulnerable in front of so many people, a bunch of strange men no less. A knock on the door sends my body jolting, which Ronan takes note of before standing up and answering the door.
Waiting for me on the floor is a white box. He carries it inside, setting it onto the desk for me. The way he’s looking at it, it’s like he already knows what’s inside.
Peeling back the top, I reach inside and hold up the white silky material. It’s a nightgown, so smooth and sheer it’s practically see through, with at least fifty buttons going down from the neck to the floor. There is a card at the bottom. I lift it up to read the perfect scrawled penmanship across it.
This and nothing more.
Looking forward to seeing you.
Christopher
I frown, and Ronan plucks the card from my hand, giving a frown of his own.
“That’s kind of creepy, right?” I ask.
Ronan just swallows, tilting his head to the side consideringly before shaking it.
“He’s just trying to get into your head. Don’t let him.”
“Well, do I have to wear this thing?”
He nods and I frown. I mean, I suppose if I can keep it on during the ceremony, though I doubt I will be able to, it’ll be something. It’s better than them ordering me to march in completely naked, right?
We spend hours inside my room, mainly because I’m terrified to leave. Ronan said that we would have to leave at eleven thirty, but ever since it turned eleven, I haven’t been able to stop shaking. My stomach has been tight and ready to upturn all of its contents from the day but at eleven fifteen, I let it win and rush into the bathroom.
I heave and heave but to my disappointment, nothing is coming out. Instead, I’m left a panicked, shaking and sick mess. I don’t even feel the tears pouring down my face until they begin splashing against my arms. A knock comes from the door, Ronan’s voice soft and concerned.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“N-no,” I laugh self-deprecatingly.
“Asher is here. Do you want me to send him away?”
I think about it for a moment before I reach for some toilet paper, drying my face as best as I can before answering.
“Let him in.”
The bathroom door opens in the next moment, Asher’s face filled with sympathy as he crouches down beside me.
“Princess,” he says softly, as he wipes my tears away with his thumbs.
“Hi,” I say with a pathetic smile, as another tear drops.
“It’s gonna be okay. It’s one night. One night that I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to help you forget, okay?”
I nod, leaning into his touch as he cups my face.
“I wanted to check on you before I head out. Just keep your eyes on me the whole time, okay? Did Ronan explain everything to you?”
Nodding again, he blows out a soft breath.
“Good. I’m so sorry about this,” he says, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead as he shakes his head and pulls away. “So sorry,” he whispers under his breath as he stands.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say with a watery smile.
He gives me a sad, tight lipped smile in response before stepping out of the bathroom. Ronan comes in right after him, dropping to the floor and pulling me into his lap. He cradles me like a wounded child, tucking me against his chest as he rocks me slightly. It’s calming, forcing me to relax for the first time since I woke up this morning.
“It’s almost time,” he murmurs against the crown of my head.
“I know,” I rasp, before slowly pulling myself to stand.
Ronan helps me, and I move to the counter to wash my face. Thankfully I knew I’d need to save makeup for last as I make sure to grab my waterproof mascara in case any more tears pop up. I do a half assed job that I’m sure I’ll be hearing about from my father later, but ask me if I care right now.
Once my makeup is done and my hair is brushed, I begin stripping out of my clothes until I’m completely naked. I undo the top, twenty or so buttons before slipping on the dress. Ronan steps forward, redoing them for me as I stand there like a doll for him to dress.
“Can I wear shoes?” I ask.
He looks at me consideringly before nodding.
“You’ll have to take them off once we are inside but for now, yes.”
My nose wrinkles. “Do you guys get to wear shoes?”
“Yes.”
“Then why can’t I?” I ask, defiance rippling through me.
Ronan instantly senses it and his fingers stall on the buttons, holding my shoulders tightly.
“Look at me.”
I do as he says, to find a serious expression on his face.
“I could not be more serious when I say this, Skyla. Do not talk back. Do not ask questions. Do. Not. Speak. The entire time we are there.”
Slowly, I nod. It’s not a hard concept. My father has always emphasized the importance of women being seen and not heard. An ideal that Aunt Steph undermined every chance she could. When we weren’t in my father’s presence, of course.
I slip on a pair of flats as the clock strikes eleven twenty and Ronan opens the door. I leave my key and phone here, since he said they wouldn’t be allowed wherever we are going anyways. As soon as we step outside the building, Ronan stops me in my tracks, tying a blindfold on my face.
“Seriously?” I ask.
“Sorry, baby. Rules.”
I scoff but let him tie the white satin material around my eyes as he begins guiding me. When we get to his car, he opens the door, helping me in before we begin driving. We drive for probably five minutes before we park, though I swear we just drove in a bunch of circles.
My flats thunk against the hard pavement before it soon changes to something different. My steps are more echoed, and a chill erupts over my spine as we carefully go down a set of stairs.
“Almost there,” Ronan says.
A musty smell fills my nose, and I do my best to breathe through my mouth as we walk. After a little ways, Ronan stops me, pulling my shoes off before setting them to the side.
“We have to go in here first. Keep your blindfold on,” he whispers, as he takes me into a room where a chilling voice greets us.
“Ah, welcome, Miss Parris,” a man says from my left.
I don’t say anything, giving a polite smile and a nod. Ronan lifts me up and onto a table before pushing me to lay down. I do as he guides, while I prepare for the examination.
Thankfully, Ronan gave me a heads up.
“Feet together and let your legs fall open please.”
My stomach rolling at the request, I do as he says, an appreciative guffaw falling from his lips that makes me sick.
“Mr. Putnam is a very lucky man. You’re so beautiful.”
“Is she a virgin or not?” Ronan grits through clenched teeth.
I can practically hear him working his jaw over and over again, so he doesn’t break this guy’s.
“It certainly appears so. Allow me to confirm,” he says before he slips a finger inside me, feeling around and pressing on me in a way that’s painful before I whimper.
“Most definitely. A prize indeed,” the doctor says, his smile audible in his tone. Ronan’s rough hands pull down my dress, helping me sit up before sliding off the bed.
“Thanks, Doc,” Ronan says briskly, as he begins walking us out.
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine!” he says before I hear a door shut.
“Fucking piece of shit,” Ronan grumbles under his breath, lowering it to a whisper as he speaks. “You okay?”
I nod, not speaking as we come to a stop.
“Okay. We’re here. We will wait until someone comes to get us. Are you ready?”
Shaking my head no, I do my best to hold down the nerves buzzing inside me. God, part of me wishes I could keep my blindfold on the whole time. It would be easier to disassociate at least.
Unfortunately for me, the sound of a door snicks open, before a voice I don’t recognize says, “They are ready for her.”
Chapter Fifty
Skyla
Following Ronan’s steps I pause when he stops me, his fingers going to the back of the blindfold. As soon as he unties it, it’s like I can finally see for the first time in years. The room is dimly lit, only by torches lining the cobblestone walls. Men surround the perimeter, the older ones in deep burgundy cloaked robes, while the guys who attend Gallows Hill wear crisp white dress shirts and black dress pants.
It only takes me half a second to find Vincent and then Liam just a little further down. Liam is standing in front of his father, as Vincent is standing alone. Dane and Jeremy are here as well as Andrew Hutchinson and a few others. Andrew’s face in particular twists up in sadness and sympathy as he looks at me. I’m not sure what he’s doing in the Brethren, he seems much too soft, too kind.
Liam is watching me with a blank face, but his eyes are filled with pain. I flick my gaze to Vincent as casually as I can manage, to see his stoic face looking more murderous than anything. I look away from them quickly, trying not to gain any unnecessary attention as my eyes find my father and Asher’s father next.
Christopher smiles as he holds out his hands, the robe sleeves hanging off his arms by several inches.
“Welcome, Skyla. What a glorious night it is.”
I do my best to give him a convincing smile, dipping my head down in obedience. A few approving murmurs sound through the room, and that at least helps make me feel like I’m doing something right.
“Please, lie down,” Christopher says as he gestures towards a stone slab in the middle of the room.
How did I not notice this first?
With shaky steps, I make my way to the stone, slowly laying down on top of it as I do. My head looks behind me and notices a large golden mirror. The frame is ornate and large, going almost all the way to the ceiling and being at least six-feet-wide. It’s positioned so me and the slab are perfectly centered.
Wouldn’t want anyone to miss the view, I suppose.
Revulsion rolls through me as the doors open once more. This time, Asher is the one to step inside. As opposed to the rest of them, he is wearing a white robe. His face is blank, posture stiff as he comes to stand before me. He doesn’t look at me, though. His eyes are on his father, and I do my best to fix my eyes on the ceiling. There are so many cobblestone bricks, maybe I could count them and when I’m done, it’ll hopefully be over.
“Asher Putnam, you are brought here today to solidify your place in the Brethren and strengthen your family’s legacy. In taking a bride, you secure the ability for an heir and strengthen our bonds. Stronger together, immeasurable as one.”
“Maleficis esse mori,” Asher responds.
What is that? Latin? He speaks Latin?
“Maleficis esse mori,” all the other men in the room chant as one.
It startles me, but I don’t let it show before Asher turns to me, someone stepping forward with a wooden box. He lifts up my right hand, pulling out an old looking dagger from the box before dragging the tip against my palm. His eyes don’t meet mine which somehow makes this worse. If he’d just look at me, maybe I wouldn’t feel as terrified. I knew this part was coming, Ronan told me it would. Doesn’t make it any less painful.
My eyes squint softly, as I try to hold in my pain while another man steps forward with a large book, smearing my bloody handprint across it before setting my hand by my side. It’s still bleeding heavily, but no one seems to be too concerned with it as a third man steps forward, a red hot iron brand in hand. He hands the material covered handle to Asher and finally, he meets my eyes.
His face is hard and emotionless, but his eyes give me an apologetic gleam before he’s pressing the brand into my other palm. I can’t hold back my screams for this one. My lips are smashed together to muffle the sound, but it doesn't make it quieter.
“Mmmmhmmm aghhhh!” I grumble and shout, my head turning to see Vincent take a step forward. I didn’t notice until now that Ronan has taken up a place behind him, his hand on Vincent’s shoulder in a casual way, though I can tell that it’s really so he can hold him in place.
The searing pain doesn’t ebb unfortunately, the smell of my flesh burning fills the room, a smell so foul I want nothing more than to gag. Amazingly, I keep it together, as both palms are now screaming at me in displeasure.
Asher pulls the brand away, handing it back to the man before his fingers grip my dress. I expect him to get to work on the buttons, but he wastes no time, grabbing the top hemline and ripping hard. The buttons give free easily, scattering all around me, and falling to the ground until the robe is completely ripped open. My breasts spill free, and my eyes flick to see Liam’s jaw set painfully tight, while Vincent looks on the edge of losing it. Ronan leans down to whisper something into his ear that seems to calm him down.
God, I wish they didn’t have to see this. I wish I didn’t have to live it.
Asher drops his robe, revealing that he is also completely naked as he spreads my legs and climbs on top of me. His hands rest on either side of my head as he lines his cock up to my entrance. His eyes meet mine, a sense of ease settling in me when I see those three golden flecks. He mouths something, so soft I almost think I’m imagining it. When he does it again, though, I know it was intentional.
“Eyes on me.”
I do as he says, watching him intently as he snaps his hips forward, hard. My mouth opens as pain rips through me. Asher’s thrusts are rushed and savage, only leaving room for results, not pleasure. The combined pain from my hands to my vagina getting literally ripped open has me whimpering and lightly sobbing. Tears roll down my face, but I don’t outwardly cry. I attempt to take every thrust he gives me, his face serious and intent and his hips snap faster and faster.
He drops to his forearms, letting out a pleasure filled growl as he buries his face into my hair.
“Almost done” he grits into my ear.
I nod, not knowing what I’m doing until it’s too late.
“It’s okay, baby. I love you,” I sob, only realizing that not only did I just expose what he told me in my ear to the entire room, I called him baby, I told him that I loved him.
