Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

I lie in the darkly lit room with a towel over my eyes. The sound of the waterfall to my left is soothing. Today is my take care of me day. Once every two weeks, I get a massage, facial, and an IV for rehydration therapy.

My mother suggested these to me when I showed up at our monthly brunch a couple of years back, looking like I had just closed down the club. I had. Although that’s not the point, she reminded me I needed to take care of myself. She set me up an appointment with her favorite salon and spa—I’ve been addicted ever since.

The IVs really do help you feel better. Like a new person. Plus, the man who digs his fingers deep into my muscles takes me to another level of ecstasy that no drug ever has.

My personal cell ringing has me removing the towel from my eyes. I dig it out of my purse, which sits on the small round table next to my chair, then hit answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, honey,” my mother says in greeting.

“Hi, Mom.” I place the cloth back over my face and lie back, holding the phone to my ear.

“Are you at the spa?” she inquires, already knowing my schedule.

“Yeah.” I sigh, getting more comfortable in the seat. The IV takes about an hour, and I feel like I’ve slept all night afterward.

“I won’t keep you. Just wanted to remind you about our brunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” I assure her.

“Perfect, dear. Enjoy your day, and I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.”

She hangs up before I can say my goodbyes. Removing the towel from my eyes, I place the cell back in my purse, covering up my face once more and relaxing.

Two hours later, I’m getting into my SUV when I turn both of my phones on ring. After my mother had called, I turned it on silent so no one would disturb me. My body feels like Jell-O, and my hair looks greasy from the oils. But it was amazing.

I see I have an email on my work cell from UNKNOWN. Opening it up, it’s got a video attached.

It’s of a room…looks like a basement—concrete walls and matching floor. A man lies in the center on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He’s wearing a Lord’s mask and a pair of jeans with a black T-shirt. His arms are fanned out to the sides, palms up, and a pool of blood has gathered below them.

The room is eerily silent. I sit up straighter, looking over the man who appears to be dead. My eyes focus on his chest, and I don’t see any movement to show he’s breathing. Then I look at his bloody hands to see if his fingers twitch—still nothing.

A door squeaking makes me jump as a man rushes into the room.

I’ve seen him before…from the pictures the Lords sent me. He was in the picture of the four guys and girl that looked like it had been taken quite a while back.

“What the fuck?” he barks, running over to the dead guy. He drops to his knees next to him and rips off the mask.

I inhale sharply when I see it’s Haidyn. I can tell it’s an older video because he doesn’t have any tattoos. His eyes are closed, and his color looks ashen.

“HAIDYN?” the man shouts, shaking his shoulders. “Haidyn! What the fuck did you do?” He checks for his pulse and lets out a long breath. “Come on, man. Goddammit, Haidyn. Why did you…” He pulls on Haidyn’s eyelids, forcing them open.

Haidyn groans in response.

“Wake the fuck up, man! Jesus Christ…Saint?” he screams. “SAINT?”

A man runs in who I’m assuming is Saint—I’ve also seen him in the group picture. He was the one with his hand wrapped around the girl’s throat while he stood behind her.

He pulls out his cell and makes a call while the other continues to look for the source of the bleeding.

It’s his wrists. Both have been cut, and once the guy figures it out, he removes his shirt, rips it down the middle, and ties them both around Haidyn’s wrists to try to stop the bleeding.

The video comes to an abrupt end, and I see that’s all they sent me. What in the fuck was that for? Why send that to me if they’re not going to explain it? I mean, the video was self-explanatory, but there was no other direction on what to do next. It leaves me confused more than anything else.

HAIDYN

Senior year at Barrington

I’ve been out riding all night, needing some fresh air. The vow ceremony is getting closer, and I’m on edge. My father is pissed at me, of course. That’s nothing new. He’s on the hunt for my new chosen. As if I care who he wants me to fuck.

It’s all about what you can get in our world. I guess that’s anyone in any type of situation. But you don’t see dads out there pimping their daughters out left and right like you do within the Lords. It’s sick really. If I have any say, I won’t marry or reproduce. The thought of having to watch my theoretical daughter be fucked for the first time in front of an audience makes me want to vomit.

“Cradle to the Grave” by Five Finger Death Punch blasts in my earbuds as I take the exit on the highway and downshift, coming up to the gates at the house of Lords.

Pulling up to the building, I see Adam exiting the front double doors. He storms down the steps and jumps into his G-wagon. As I see his reverse lights illuminate the night, I make a split decision to follow him.

He’s been in a mood. I’m not sure what the fuck is going on, but he’s been pissy to not only Ashtyn but all of us since we had our meeting with the detective. It’s not like him. I love my brothers, but I’ve always been the closest to Adam. For some reason, he’s pulling away from me.

I stay several cars back as he weaves in and out of traffic. He takes an exit, and I can tell when he spots me because he pulls into a vacant parking lot.

Shutting off my bike, I turn off the music and wait as he shoves his door open. “What the fuck, Haidyn?” he barks. “You following me?” He storms over to me.

“If you’d answer your phone, I wouldn’t have to.” I’ve been calling him all day, and he’s been MIA. Even Kashton brought it up today to Saint and me, and I pretended not to notice.

“I’ve been busy,” he snaps defensively.

“Is this because you haven’t had your dick sucked?” I joke. “Because we only have a week left. Then you can fuck whoever you want.”

Adam’s jaw clenches, and his hands fist to keep from punching me. He’s been this way since we met with Lincoln at the house of Lords a couple of weeks ago.

They think a Lord—Adam—is involved, but we all know he’s innocent. They can suspect him all they want. They don’t have any evidence that he did it.

“I have somewhere to be, Haidyn. Don’t follow me,” he orders, walking back to his SUV.

“What do you think this means for Ashtyn?” I call out.

He stops and turns to face me but doesn’t speak.

I cross my arms over my chest. “They think you’re involved. You think they’ll try to use her to get you to confess?” It’s a reasonable thought. We, as Lords, take whatever weakness we can find when we want something from someone. Why wouldn’t the law do the same? Somehow and for some reason, this detective knows about us. How he found out, he won’t say. But the fact that he did isn’t good by any means. And the fact that Lincoln allowed him to enter the house of Lords is throwing up red flags. The detective already knows too much about us.

Adam drops his head to stare at the parking lot, rubbing the back of his neck. It tells me he’s thought of it too. I think Saint is oblivious to what’s going on. All he cares about is finally getting his girl. The last thing he’s going to think about is losing her when he’s so close to having her.

“It’s crossed my mind,” Adam admits, his eyes meeting mine once again.

“And what are you going to do about it?” I inquire.

“Why do you think I’m pushing her away?” he questions. “I need her…and you”—he points at me—“to stay the fuck back. Once this is all settled, things will go back to the way they were.” With that, he jumps back in his G-wagon and squeals his tires as he leaves the parking lot.

I stay where I’m at, watching his taillights get back onto the highway. I’ll give him some time. But if things don’t change soon, I’ll step in and help him out. We stick together. That’s the point of the Spade brothers. We take care of our own.

It’s just another day, but then again, it’s not like the others. Ashtyn is here. Saint found her thanks to fucking Whitney. I’ve pretended to hate Ash for the past four years because it was the best defense I could come up with.

It’s only a matter of time before my brothers find out I lied to them. But I’m not going to say anything. Ash will have to rat me out.

I stand in the room on the seventh floor, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows while the rain comes down. Charlotte sits behind me. I can hear her shuffling around, getting her stuff together for another visit. This will make her third. The woman is persistent, I’ll give her that. At this point, I just show up to make her squirm. Seeing her is the highlight of my day.

“Talk to me, Haidyn,” she says.

I remain facing away from her with my hands shoved into the pockets of my jeans.

“What are you thinking?” Charlotte goes on.

I snort and turn to face her. She looks so prim and proper sitting in the high-back chair. I decide to walk over to her, getting closer than I usually do, and she sits up straight, crossing her legs as if that’ll keep me from getting between them.

Placing my hands on both armrests, I lean over, putting my face in front of hers. “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.” My eyes drop to her tits. She’s dressed in a fitted button-up white silk blouse.

“I’m…I’m here to help you,” she whispers, rubbing her sweaty palms softly down her black pencil skirt.

I can smell the fear, and it makes me hard. “Help me?” I have hundreds of ideas on how she can help me. She won’t like any of them. “Do you really mean that, Charlotte?”

She swallows nervously, her eyes dropping to stare out the window. Poor thing is scared of me. “Of course.”

Bullshit. She’s here because she has to be like everyone before her.

I won’t lie. She’s definitely the most attractive therapist they’ve sent me, and given the chance, I’d fucking ruin her. “I know what you can do.” I smirk. The poor thing asked.

Her wide eyes go to mine. “W-what?”

“Let me rip off your clothes.”

She gasps.

“I’ll tie you up in a tight little ball, suspend you from the ceiling so that your cunt, mouth, and ass are easily on display for me to fuck.” I like the way her face pales at my words. It makes her eyes a brighter blue. “Once I’m done violating you, I’ll sit down, have a smoke while I let you hang there, and watch my cum leak from your stretched-out and overused holes like the worthless whore you’re meant to be.”

She’s trembling at just my words. Imagine what she’d do if I got my hands on her.

“I can’t promise you’ll like it, but it’ll make me feel better,” I say. “Still want to help me, doll face?” I place my hand on her knee, making her jump, and she whimpers.

“Haidyn,” Saint speaks from the open door.

I knew he was there; I just didn’t give a fuck. Laughing, I push off the chair, and she runs out of the room, shoving Saint out of her way.

I go back to the window.

“We brought her in to help you.” He makes it sound like we had a choice. We didn’t.

“She can’t.” I may not be suicidal like the Lords think, but I’m sure as fuck not going to change who I am.

“You don’t even let her try,” he growls.

“Unless she’s on her knees, she’s useless.” It’s true. But it’s not just her. That’s how we’re raised to see women. It’s not her fault she was born without a dick in our world.

“Kash called David.”

I’m not even in the mood to fuck a whore at the moment. There’s only one woman I’m thinking about right now, and sex is the last thing that comes to mind when I think of her. “Is she here?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He confirms what I already knew.

FUCK! My hands fist. “You shouldn’t have brought her back.” My chest tightens at the thought of what will happen now. Everything Kash, Saint, and I went through after Ashtyn ran was all for nothing. And I let a brother down. Just another one I can add to my long list.

“She’s here for us to use. You…we all deserve our revenge.”

I turn to face him. “I’m going to kill her,” I lie, hoping he believes it. Maybe if he thinks she’s in jeopardy here, he’ll take her somewhere else. “Don’t you get that? If I touch her, she’s dead.” I take a deep breath. “And the worst part of that is she doesn’t deserve it.” I hang my head. “She’s not responsible for what happened once she was gone.” I hate what happened to my brothers because of me. But that doesn’t mean that Ashtyn deserves the hell Saint will put her through either. She was running to save him.

“She left us,” he grinds out, and he’s not wrong.

“No. She left you. She never belonged to Kashton or me. She was yours, and you let us borrow her. Big difference.” I never really understood why he shared her with us, and we never asked. In a way, I think it was Saint showing how much control he had over her. But no matter how things go down this time, I won’t be fucking her in any way. Things have changed.

“Well, she’s ours now,” he says as Kashton enters.

Fuck this day already. I just want to be alone.

“I sent a car for the girls. They’ll be here soon,” Kash announces.

I turn and give them my back again and hear them closing the door behind them when they leave.

Placing my forehead on the glass, I close my eyes, hating that Ashtyn is back here at Carnage. I thought we did the right thing. Now, I’m not so sure.

Senior year at Barrington

Saint got a text from a fellow Lord that they have Ashtyn. We rushed to save her from Tyson at her parents’ home. We’ve brought her to Carnage to hide her. Our fathers know she’s here. Adam is MIA, her mother is dead, and her father is also missing. We’re all she has.

She’s taking a bath in Saint’s bathroom while he went to talk to his father, and Kash said he needed to make a phone call. I’m pacing Saint’s room, making sure no one comes in here until they return.

My cell rings, and I pull it out of my pocket to see it’s a blocked call. “Hello?” I answer.

“Is she okay?” the voice rushes out.

“What the fuck, Adam?” I whisper, walking over to the double doors and stepping out onto the balcony to make sure no one hears me. “Where the fuck are you?”

“I tried to help her,” he rushes out. “Just…just tell me she’s okay.”

“Your mother is dead. Your father is missing. Know anything about that?” I snap, ignoring his question.

“I need you to trust me, Haidyn.” He sighs. “Please. I tried—” He cuts himself off. “I’m trying to fix it.”

Looking over at the bathroom door, I can hear her crying while she sits in the bathtub washing off her mother’s blood. “What do you need me to do?” He’s on my shit list, but I’m doing this for her, not him.

“Just keep her alive. I’ll contact you soon.” The line goes dead just as Kashton returns to Saint’s bedroom.

I pocket my cell before he can see me on it, knowing that things will get worse before they get better.

Stepping back from the window, I pull the cell from my pocket and find the number I want. They answer on the second ring.

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“Are you in town?” I ask, my eyes going to the door to make sure no one enters. Privacy isn’t a fucking thing when you live with two other men.

“Yeah, why?”

“Ashtyn is here.”

A silence lingers over the other end of the phone before he asks, “Here—as in there at Carnage?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck! How did that happen?” he snaps.

“Whitney,” I respond. “Some shit went down with Tyson and his wife, and it led to Whitney ratting out where Ashtyn was. Kash and Saint brought her back yesterday.”

“Son of a bitch!” he hisses.

Pretty much.

“I thought you were keeping an eye on her?” I demand.

“I’ve only been in town for a week,” he snaps. “What the fuck do we do?”

“Nothing,” I answer. “She’s back, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Shit will hit the fan. We just have to be ready when it does.