Exploited (The Dark Redemption Series) (12 page)

Lips pressed to my inner thigh, his big hands spread my legs apart. Aden looks up from between them, just like I knew he would, asking first. “I wanna taste you, Blair. Tell me I can lick your pussy.”

“Yes,” I say right away, lifting my hips for him, my chest already heaving with my panting breaths, needing his mouth on me so bad it hurts. “Oh God,” I cry out when his tongue swirls over my flesh a second later. Being restrained makes it feel even better when he holds my legs down with his strong hands and tortures an orgasm out of me. I scream obscenities to the ceiling for the first time in my life as I buck in his grip, and Aden never relents. He just keeps up his assault until I lose count of my orgasms.

When his mouth finally moves away, my sweat-soaked body sags into the mattress in relief. As I come back down, I blink my eyes open and watch as Aden furiously pumps his hand up and down his long, hard cock until he growls out a curse and jets of cum spray my stomach and across my breasts with his release.

“Damn, Blair,” he says with a grin. Wiping away my arousal from his mouth with his index finger and thumb, he shakes his head that’s still partially covered by the mask. It bothers me that he’s still hiding from me, more at this moment than any other since he first climbed into my window after being so intimate.

“Please…please take off the mask,” I stutter, pleading my request.

He blows out a breath, hands on his hips in frustration, reminding me so much of Brede. “Okay, but you can’t tell
anyone
about me being here. Deal?” he asks, and I nod my agreement before he finally reaches up and pulls it off.

“Holy fucking wow,” I gasp in surprise. 

Brede

I left North Carolina around midnight and drove my bike the six hours to West Virginia. Even though I’ve never actually been to see him, I know the address by heart from the letters he occasionally sends. Somehow they always seem to find me, no matter how many times I move around the country.

The long drive gives me too much time to think. For years I’ve hated him, thinking the worst of the man who raised me, blaming him for abandoning his family over some bitch that he stupidly got caught for brutally killing. I even thought he had maybe lied about my mother’s suicide, and he actually killed her. But now I want some answers, especially as to what part Blair has in all this.

Pulling up at the gate, I have to show my ID before they allow me entry. Inside the prison facility, they make me take off my jacket and leave it and all my belongings in a bin before they pat me down. After I’m searched, I have to sign some forms before the guards take me to the plastic partition with a telephone on either side. If I were a wanted man, I’d be concerned with providing all my information, but I’m not, because I never leave a trace.

Face-to-face visits are, of course, out of the question for convicted murderers, which is fine with me. The plastic partition is a much-needed barrier between me and the man I haven’t actually seen since we all had breakfast together the morning he was arrested.

A few moments later, two guards escort in an aging man with thinning gray hair and a snow-colored beard longer than mine. His wrists are handcuffed in front of him, and here the inmates apparently wear navy blue jumpsuits instead of the hideous orange ones of county joints. I would know since I’ve been in one of those jumpsuits a time or two for minor bullshit.

My old man’s bushy salt and pepper eyebrows shoot up to his hairline when he sees me sitting on the other side of the partition. And just like that, I squirm under his gaze like I’m a twelve-year-old boy all over again instead of a twenty-two-year-old man.

“Brede?” his lips form my name, but I, of course, can’t hear him yet. Once he sits down in the chair on the other side, he lifts the phone, so I do the same. “Brede, is that really you?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I answer on an exhale, trying to slow my racing heart. For a silent moment I ask myself what the fuck I’m doing here, but then he says, “I’ve missed you, son, so damn much.” He doesn’t even try to hide the moisture in his eyes, and the sobbing sound he makes in my ear is agonizing. I swallow down the fire that races up the sides of my throat and clear my voice.

“Tell me about Valerie,” I say, straight to the point of my visit. Her name was familiar because that’s the name of the woman my dad murdered, or who they say he killed by stabbing her to death.

My father’s entire body sags, and this time, he braces his elbows on the small table to cover his face, breathing heavily into the phone. When he finally raises his head, he wipes his tears on his sleeve and answers me, his voice still shaking with emotion.

“I loved her so damn much,” he says simply. “We were gonna be a family. You were gonna finally have a mother. She had a daughter, and she couldn’t wait for her to meet you and…”

A daughter.

“Blair?” I interrupt to ask.

“Blair,” he repeats with a nod of his head. “Such a beautiful, sweet girl. I can’t imagine how tough all of this was on her, losing her mother, and then that asshole locked her away…”

“What do you mean? What asshole locked her away?” I ask.

“She…she lied, or they made her lie to the cops about seeing me…but she never testified in court. I heard her father sent her away to a mental institution, and the poor girl’s been there ever since.”

Until this week
, I think to myself. So that’s why the DA was looking for her. And no fucking wonder she’s suicidal after being locked up for ten years in a shithole facility after her mother was murdered.

“Did she really see who…”

“Probably,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I hate that, too. She was just a little girl, had just turned eight I think. She didn’t deserve that shit. Her mom….Valerie didn’t either.”

“Was it him?” I ask, knowing he understands
exactly
who I’m referring to.

“Yeah,” my dad answers with a nod. “It was him, after I assume he found out she was leaving him for me. We’d spent the day together riding to the mountains on my bike…”

Goddamn, that’s tragic as shit. With one man’s decision, my family was ripped away from me, my father locked away for life, the woman he loved gone…

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” I tell him. With everyone in town saying he was guilty, I was young and naively thought that the police wouldn’t have charged him if he didn’t do it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he replies.

“It wasn’t so bad,” I tell him. “Paula and Jim were nice. They couldn’t have any kids so they spoiled me, even though I was usually a little shit.”

“Then you were the lucky one,” he says with a smile that I know is filled with pain, of not being there himself to take care of us. When the guard approaches him, he grumbles, “Fuck” into the phone. “Time’s almost up already…”

“I’ve met Blair,” I blurt out.

“You remember her?” he asks, his red eyes going wide. “Blair Lockhart?”

“Remember her?” I ask.

“From the community pool. Valerie and I used to let you all swim together on the weekends during the summer.”

“No shit?” I say in surprise, trying to recall those summers. I vaguely remember a scrawny little wisp of a girl who always seemed to be there when we went. Did she ever say her name? Not that I remember. “We met before everything went to hell?”

“Before?” my dad asks. “Wait, are you telling me that you’ve met Blair recently? She’s out of the mental hospital?”

“Yeah,” I reply and have to look away from his inquisitive gaze when I feel ashamed or embarrassed for the first time in my life about fucking around with a girl, maybe because Blair
is
a girl. And, of course, I also feel guilty for what that bastard was gonna pay me to do to her.

“Brede,” my father says. “The girl’s been through enough. So either take care of her or stay the fuck away from her.”

Since I already know I can’t stay away from her, I guess I’ll have to take the first option. Before he can say anything else, the guard tells him to hang up.

“I’m gonna try to get you out,” I promise him.

With a small smile, he says, “Thank you, son. Don’t blame her, though, and don’t put pressure on her to try and fix anything. It’s gonna take a helluva lot more than her testimony to get me out.”

I neither agree nor disagree. If Blair could tell the fucking truth about what a piece of murdering shit her father is, then I’ll just have to find a way to talk her into doing it. It probably won’t be too hard after I tell her that he hired me to kill her.

Fuck.

Am I really gonna be able to admit that shit to her? The reason I showed up in town was to put her head in the sights of my gun?

“Love you, Brede, and your brother. You know that, right? Always have and always will, no matter what. He misses you, but he’s also worried about you,” my dad says in a rush as the guard pulls him up by his elbow to his feet.

“Yeah,” I reply. “I know.”

There’s still too much history and anger for me to be able to say the words back to him just yet. Maybe I’m not as angry at
him
as I was, but it’ll take some time to come to grips with everything I’ve been wrong about for so damn long. For a damn decade I’ve blamed him for splitting up our family. It was devastating losing our father, but nothing has ever hurt as much as having to leave my brother behind. He was my best friend, my partner in crime, and the other half of my soul.

But now I know that it wasn’t my father’s fault that our family was torn apart, and I’m gonna make the man responsible finally pay for destroying our lives and Blair’s.

Blair

It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, and there’s been no sign of Brede. I don’t know where he is, why he left me at the tattoo parlor the night before, or what’s going on with him. Which sucks, because I sort of miss the jackass, even though Aden stayed the night with me, sleeping curled up around me, but still not letting me touch him.

When the doorbell rings, I nearly jump out of my skin before I race from the living room to the front door. I check the peephole expecting Brede and not the clean-cut man on the other side.

“Blair, it’s me, Aden. Open up,” he tells me in case I don’t recognize him in the daylight without a mask, so I unlock the deadbolt and chain for him. 

“Hey,” he says with a dazzling smile when I pull open the door. He’s wearing a well-fitting dark suit and tie, looking so incredible that an enormous amount of my discontent about missing Brede quickly diffuses.

“Hey,” I reply back so suddenly that I slap my palm over my mouth in surprise. The word came out so freely, with no debate or dilemma in my fucked up head.

“Nice,” Aden says in approval of my greeting. Swooping into the foyer to kiss me, his hands immediately lock around my wrists to hold them down by my sides. Why does he always do that? Restrain me, refusing to let me touch him? I want to ask, but it seems like it’s too soon and he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. In fact, he doesn’t answer many of my questions, but at least I can see his beautiful face now without the mask.

“I figured it would be easier to act like a visitor who comes to the front door instead of sneaking into your bedroom window in broad daylight,” he says in explanation. “So, I’ve got good news.” His hand still locked around my wrist, he leads me by it into the living room where we sit down next to each other on the sofa. “A federal judge just granted us a search warrant for the DA’s office and sheriff’s department’s evidence room.”

My eyes widen in surprise before he continues on.

“Tonight, after everyone leaves for the day, we’ve got two teams, one going to the courthouse to take all the documents we can find, and the other to seize evidence from the sheriff’s department’s storage facility. It’s gonna be a big mess; but hopefully, once we start sorting through it, we’ll find everything we need to take down your dad.”

“Good,” I reply, not the least bit upset about him getting what he deserves after all these years.

“I need to finish searching the house, too. Legally this time,” he says, pulling out a piece of tri-folded paper from the inside of his suit jacket and placing it on the coffee table. “My Pathfinder is out front. So, after I load it up, I want to play with you a little before I have to leave.” Leaning forward, his big palm grabs the back of my neck and holds me still while he kisses me quickly, enough to leave me wanting more before he gets to his feet.

While he works, I sit back and watch him go in and out of the house from my seat on the sofa with my arms wrapped around my legs. The excitement bubbling in my belly is almost too much to be contained. I want to jump up and down screaming in celebration that the evil bastard, who I’m unfortunately related to, is gonna hopefully go down in flames. At the same time, a small part of me is skeptical. He has connections in law enforcement, politics and probably everywhere so I wouldn’t put it past him to walk away from even a tall stack of evidence showing his wrongdoings a mile high. It’s what he does. He no doubt pays people well for them to stay on his side.

“Okay,” Aden says when he returns to the living room, swiping a hand across his face to wipe away the sweat. He’s lost his suit jacket and has rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt that’s tucked into perfectly fitted pants. With his hands on his hips, the fabric stretches across his broad chest in a way that my lower body perks up and takes notice. I frown when the sight of him also makes the little girl inside me want to run and hide because he reminds me of my dad, never without his suit and tie. “I think that’s everything that might be worth a damn. Do you know of anywhere in or around the house where he might hide evidence?” Aden asks.

Now go to your room, take the dress off and hide it inside your dollhouse.

Jumping up, I run to my bedroom and kneel in front of the three-foot tall dollhouse that still sits in the corner, wondering if it’s in there. Surely not. He’s had ten years to destroy it, but the rest of the room looked untouched when I first arrived a few days ago. My finger shakes as I push the button on the top of the roof to open the dollhouse. I pull the perfect, pink and white replica house apart, and…there it is, my crumpled up light blue dress that he ruined.

“You okay?” Aden asks from the doorway. I shake my head and point inside to the bloody dress without touching it. “What’s that?”

“The dress I was wearing…” I tell him, unable to say anymore.

Aden leaves the room and returns wearing latex gloves, carrying a clear plastic bag. I scoot back on my knees, moving out of the way so that he can get to the old cloth. When he picks it up, he holds it out, reminding me how small I was that day ten years ago.

“How…how did you get blood on you?” Aden asks as tears start rolling down my cheeks. It’s been a few days, thanks to him and Brede, since I’ve relived the habitual nightmare that plagues me even when I’m awake.

“Blair?” he prompts when I stay silent, but I just shake my head, unable to explain anymore.

“Fuck! You’re gonna have to talk,” Aden shouts caustically to the ceiling as he throws the bagged evidence, rips off the gloves, and paces back and forth in front of my dresser with his fingers locked behind his head. He comes to a stop beside me, his pale blue eyes narrowed and glaring bright with anger. “Or do you not give a shit about the man who’s been rotting in prison for a decade?”

My tears fall faster since I already felt guilty. Every second of every day of my life I feel incredibly guilty. But now he’s making me feel even worse, calling me out for being such a coward.

“I can help you, Blair,” he says, his voice much softer, although still heavy with emotion. “But
you
have to be the one who’s ready to make this right, more than just a pretty tattoo on your side.”

My head hangs in shame because I can’t look at him. I want to do this, but it’s hard when I’m still terrified of the man who stabbed my mother to death in front of me. What if Aden’s wrong and they don’t put him away? He’ll come after me, especially if he knows I confessed the truth. But I owe it to Ben to take the chance, to stop being a weak, silent girl and try to save him from spending the rest of his life in prison for a murder he didn’t commit. 

I freeze when Aden kneels down behind me, afraid he’s still angry and will take it out on me. He lifts my hair from my neck and presses a few kisses to my skin, causing the tension in my body to instantly evaporate. Just as I relax, his teeth bite down harshly on my neck. I gasp at the pinch of pain before he distracts me, pulling my shirt off, leaving me kneeling on the carpet in nothing but my panties.

“You’ve gotta be strong for me, baby girl. Can you do that?” he asks, both of his hands moving around to cup my breasts. I hiss when he brushes over the tattoo that’s still sore. The burn soon fades away as his mouth continues to leave hot, wet kisses over the side of my face, ear, and neck, leaving cold chill bumps in his wake, while his hands continue to squeeze and caress my breasts.

“I’m gonna keep you safe,” he says. His teeth graze my shoulder, and one of his palms rubs down my stomach and slips into the front of my already damp panties. “And you’re gonna confess to being forced by your father to lie, right? You won’t be in any trouble. No one blames you, Blair. You were just a little girl. So can you do that? Can you own up to the truth for me, for Ben Rawls?”

“Yes,” I whisper when he drags a finger through my wet pussy lips before penetrating me gently with it, over and over and over again, until my hips start to rock and my vision blurs. Until I forget everything else in the world except for the man behind me, taking me closer to the escape I desperately need.

Pushing on my shoulder, he guides me forward until I’m on all fours, his fingers still moving in that wonderful teasing way. His knees spread my legs further apart; and when he pulls his hand away, leaving me right on the edge, I whimper in protest.

“Shh,” he says from behind me, placing kisses on my lower back, down to my thigh before lowering my panties so his tongue can enter me from behind.

“
Ahhh
,” I cry out, my entire body shaking, wound up tight, frantic with the need for a release. “Please!” I beg.

“I’ve gotta go, baby girl,” he says, pulling his mouth away.

“No! I need…I need,” I stutter.

“I need it too, baby,” he says, trailing a finger through all the wetness he just created. “You gonna give me what I need tonight? Finally, give me this pussy?” he asks.

My first thought is no…Brede. But then Aden’s tongue returns and starts giving me what I crave from him, from both men.

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” I chant, thrusting my hips back into his face, chasing my release. Brede’s gone, I remind myself. He walked out on me without a word, and he’s a wanderer, so the odds are, I’ll never see him again. Aden, though, is here, trying to help me, trying to put away the asshole who killed my mother and locked me away. He’s the one who holds me at night and makes me feels so damn good.

“Blair? Tonight when I come back, will you let me fuck you?” he asks, his breath fanning over my heated flesh. Then, the tip of his tongue flicks rapidly over my clit again.

“Yes!” I exclaim as the most intense orgasm explodes from my body. “
Yes! Oh God, yes, Aden
!” His mouth doesn’t let up, even when I try to pull away, he keeps working his tongue inside me until I come again and again, until I swear it feels like I’m drowning in bliss, and I don’t want to come up for air.

When he eventually stops, I collapse face first into the carpet. I hear his heavy panting behind me and his curse of “Fuck, I could eat your pussy all night” before I hear his zipper go down.  The blunt head of his hard cock rubs through my wetness, and then his hot release oozes down my lower back.

A little while later, I hear the jingle of Aden’s pants being done up before he says, “I don’t want to leave, but I have to. See you in a few hours, okay?”

I nod, incapable of words or moving my body a single inch. That’s where he leaves me, lying on the floor, my panties still down around my knees, soaking wet and very satisfied. So why do I feel so…empty?