Claimed Read online

  Claimed

  Prologue ~ Jett

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Ellie

  Kayne

  Epilogue ~ Ellie

  Playlist

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  CLAIMED

  Copyright © M. NEVER 2015

  All rights reserved

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from author M. Never.

  Cover Design By:

  Marisa Shor, Cover Me, Darling

  Editing By:

  Jenny Carlsrud Sims, Editing 4 Indies

  Proofreading By:

  Nichole Strauss, Perfectly Publishable

  Interior Design and Formatting By:

  Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

  Your naked body should only belong to those who fall in love with your naked soul. ~ unknown

  I KNOW WHO IT IS before I even answer the phone.

  “What’s up, Jimmy?”

  “Your boy is at it again. Gettin’ belligerent and disrupting my customers.”

  “Awesome,” I groan under my breath. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Five minutes. This is my last courtesy call. Next time, I’m calling the cops.”

  “I hear ya loud and clear.”

  “Good.” Click.

  Fuck. I shrug on a pair of jeans and run my fingers through my hair. The first time I can sleep through the night in six years and this jackass repeatedly picks three a.m. to self-destruct. If it were anyone else, I’d have told Jimmy to toss him in the gutter and let him sleep off his load. But I can’t do that, not to Kayne. At least not this time, but possibly the next. This shit is getting old.

  It takes me exactly seven minutes to drive to the hole Kayne has taken up residence in the last three months. Transition into the civilian world has been significantly harder for him than myself. Losing Ellie destroyed him, more so than even I could have predicted. He was fucked up when it came to women to begin with, and getting wrapped up with her only magnified his issues twentyfold. Sometimes I worry he’s reached a point of no return.

  I walk into the dark little bar with a rainbow of shady characters. No, Kayne couldn’t just pick any bar to get drunk in; he had to pick the one where the baddest motherfuckers in town hang out. A place where the wrong look can get you stabbed or the wrong word will earn you a bottle smashed over your head.

  I spot him in the corner being corralled by two linebackers in motorcycle jackets. Just fucking great. He’s swaying on his feet with his bottom lip busted wide open. But it’s the look in his eyes that has me worried. His stare is dark and removed like his soul has disappeared.

  “You’re late,” Jimmy sneers from behind the bar.

  “Keep your shirt on. I’m here, aren’t I? What happened?” I ask as we walk the length of the room side by side toward Kayne.

  “What happened is your friend came, got shitfaced, and started a fight. Again,” he snarls. “I’ve had it. He’s out, and if he shows his face in here one more time, I’m not going to intervene when he gets what’s coming to him. Got me?” the burly man asks with his arms crossed and a glare that can make the average person piss themselves.

  “I got it.” I wave my hand. I’m sure if I was anyone else, I’d be intimidated. But I don’t have time for hard-asses who think they’re tough shit. If Kayne wasn’t fucked up, we could wipe the floor with every douchebag in this entire place.

  I squeeze through the two mountains blocking him. “Excuse me, fellas. I got it from here.” I grab Kayne’s arm, and he growls at me. “Easy, killer. Just taking you to get some air.” I pull him through the bar, stumbling drunk, and cursing like a sailor. To be honest, I’m impressed he has the ability to speak given the condition he’s in.

  Once outside, I haul off and punch him in the gut. Why? Because the last thing I need is a ticking time bomb. Which is exactly what Kayne is at the moment—what he’s been since the moment Ellie walked out of his life. And the only way for him to come to terms with what he’s feeling is to face it head on. I have learned this about him the hard way.

  Kayne hunches over, caught off guard for a second, and then retaliates by tackling me against the car. “Come on, cocksucker, get it all out.” I continue with the kidney shots as he crushes me against the driver’s side door. “She’s gone! She’s gone! And you have to fucking accept that!” I scream at him.

  “I can’t!” Kayne howls like a wounded animal then slumps to the ground, trying—and failing miserably—to hide the emotion leaking out of his eyes. Ughhhh, messed-up motherfucker. I prop him up on the sidewalk. He hits my soft spot every time.

  “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” I clasp his shoulder as he clumsily sits on the curb, pulling his legs up to steady himself. “You’re going to wind up getting hurt, or worse, getting dead. Is that what you worked so hard for? Sacrificed so much of your life for?” I shake him. “To be buried six feet under?”

  “I’d be better off dead.” He wipes his cheeks roughly with the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

  “That’s the alcohol talking.”

  “No, it’s not. What’s the point of living if you have nothing to live for?” He looks up at me with bloodshot eyes.

  My flesh actually heats.

  “You selfish scumbag. You have nothing to live for? What the fuck am I? I don’t count just because you can’t fuck me?”

  “What?” His expression falls. “No . . . That’s not . . . You’re my best friend. My brother . . . The only family I have.” He stumbles over his words.

  “Well, how do you think your brother would feel if you end up dead?” I get in his face.

  Kayne shrugs. “Shitty?”

  “Yeah. Pretty. Fucking. Shitty,” I snap.

  Kayne stares at me blankly. I know he’s in there somewhere. Then he drops his head in his hands pathetically. “I just miss her so damn much.”

  “I know.”

  “Is there ever going to be a woman in my life who doesn’t break my heart?”

  Aww shit, he’s going there. “You can’t blame Ellie for breaking your heart. We both knew the possible outcome when we took her.”

  “I just can’t stand her being gone. It’s killing me.” His voice cracks as he buries his face in the crook of his arm and recoils into a ball.

  “For now,” I assert. “She’s gone for now. That doesn’t mean she’ll be gone forever.”

  “How can you possibly know that?” He raises his head and sniffs.

  I roll my eyes. “Haven’t you learned yet? I know everything.”

  Kayne actually chuckles. It’s a deranged sound, but at least he’s connecting with me on some coherent level.

  We stare at each other for some time before I concede. It’s late, I’m tired, and he’s smashed.

  “Come on, big man. Let’s get you home and cleaned up. You bled all over yourself.” Splattered red stains are covering his white shirt.

  “Not my blood.” He grins up at me. “It’s the fucker’s who was stupid enoug
h to fight me. He never got a shot in.”

  “Then what happened to your lip?”

  “Fell off the barstool.”

  “You what?” Oh, for Christ’s sake, he can throw down in a bar fight, but he can’t take a damn leak.

  “Let’s go.” I hold out my hand exasperated.

  Kayne teeters a bit before his palm finally connects with mine. I haul him to his feet, and it feels like I’m pulling on a steel anchor. Once standing, I rest him against the car and manually unlock the doors. My 1966 Chevelle didn’t exactly come equipped with keyless entry. After I dump him in the front seat, I slide behind the wheel and start the engine. My red devil purrs to life, and I can’t help but think there’s only one other kind of hum that’s better than this car’s.

  I glance over at Kayne; he looks green and is barely conscious. “Listen man, you puke in here, and I’m tossing you out while we’re still moving.”

  Kayne smirks, his head bobbing all over the place as I pull away. In no time at all, he’s passed out and breathing loudly.

  What am I going to do with his dumbass? He’s a wreck.

  I can’t fault the guy completely for all his fuckedupness; he’s had a rough life. Abused, neglected, and cast aside; not to mention abandoned by the one person who was supposed to love him the most. It’s tragic, really. And then, when he finally gets one tiny flicker of happiness, what happens? It’s corrupted by evil and shrouded in darkness. Sometimes, you just can’t win for trying.

  “Ellie,” Kayne moans miserably beside me while grabbing his crotch in his drunken sleep.

  All I can do is shake my head.

  Oy, what a fucking hot mess.

  “NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO or who you’re with, you’ll always be mine.” His voice echoes in the darkness. “Mine, Ellie.” I hurl myself up out of a dead sleep, panting. My hair is sticking to my forehead from sweat, and my tank top is clinging to my chest. I catch my breath and remind myself it was only a dream.

  Only a dream. Only a dream.

  The tropical nighttime breeze flutters through the half-open window and cools my burning skin. I fall back down onto my pillow and try to banish the vision of majestic blue eyes haunting my mind. Not only his eyes—his voice, his scent, his words. “I’d much rather shower you with pleasure than torture you with pain . . . but I’ll do what I have to do to make you submit.”

  It’s been a year since I left him—the man who abducted me, trained me, used me, owned me, deceived me. A whole year since I found out I was free.

  Immediately after I left Mansion, I was held in a safe house for three days. Jett stayed with me the whole time. He laid with me while I slept, held my hand while I was debriefed by a very shady man in a black suit threatening me with jail time if I divulged one word about the classified operation, and held me when I fell to pieces night after night. He was my sanity. Which is crazy, when you think about it. He was one-half of the duo who held me captive, forced me to submit, and conformed me into a slave. A sex slave. But no matter how low I felt, it was Jett who lifted me up. When the curtain fell, he was the only one I could trust. Warped as it may have been.

  I look up at my apartment building. It looks exactly the same. Red brick and concrete stairs.

  “Last stop on the crazy train,” Jett says grinning.

  I feel the anxiety stampede through me as I gaze out the tinted window of the truck. Do I look different? I definitely feel different. I wonder if everyone will be able to see the scars of my experiences sliced all over my skin. I guess I’m about to find out.

  I barely allowed myself to miss anyone while I was gone, and all that suppressed emotion is threatening to break through the surface of my facade. I’m finally home. My eyes burn as I fight back tears.

  “Remember what we talked about. Only recount very vague details. You were kidnapped, drugged, and you don’t remember much of your time in captivity.”

  I frown and nod.

  “It’s important you keep the accounts of what happened to yourself.”

  I nod some more. I understand. I really do.

  “Am I ever going to see you again?” I ask Jett with a shaky voice.

  “Maybe. It’s up to you.”

  “If I forgive Kayne?” I narrow my eyes.

  He shrugs. “We’re a package deal.”

  The tears I’m trying to contain fall. I sadly realize that I’m never going to see Jett again. It feels like my soul has been ripped from my body, and now I’m losing my best friend in the process.

  “No tears, sweet thing.” He wipes my cheek with his thumb. “Time to be the strong girl I know you are. This is your decision.”

  And I stand by it.

  “Where are you going now that this is all over?”

  “I have some unfinished business of my own to take care of.” He fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve. “But don’t miss me too much; I might not be as far as you think.” He winks.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means just because I’m leaving now it doesn’t mean I’ll be gone forever.”

  I look at him like the crazy man he is. I’m too tired for riddles.

  “Go on.” he nudges me. “Time to go home.”

  I hug him one last time and step out of the car.

  Time to go home.

  After my very teary return, I spent months trying to acclimate back into some semblance of a ‘normal’ life. I quit Expo (despite Mark’s protests), started seeing a psychiatrist, and spent most of the summer down the shore—away from the city and the reminders of the past. Reminders of him.

  I meant it when I said I never wanted to see him again, and when I finally felt like I was moving on, a package arrived on August twenty-eighth, my twenty-third birthday. It was a large, rectangular, white box with a plain white card and a simple white bow. When I opened the card, I nearly fell apart. One word was inscribed on the inside:

  I ripped open the box with overflowing tears to find two dozen miniature red velvet cupcakes. I cried even harder. I didn’t even know why. I vowed to put Kayne Roberts behind me, and up until that moment, I thought I had. But one look at that word and a whole world of emotion let loose. I tore up the card and chucked the cupcakes in the dumpster on the side of my building. I just couldn’t. I was leaving for school, and that’s where my focus had to stay. I would never again let someone take my hopes and dreams and future away. Never. I had no idea who Kayne was. He deceived me from the very moment I met him. How do you care about someone you don’t know at all? On a basic human level, maybe. But to love someone, expose yourself to them, and trust them with your entire heart?

  Hell no.

  I left for Hawaii the very next day.

  If I had ever wished to see paradise, I had finally arrived. Oahu is beyond beautiful—the landscape, the flowers, the ocean. Being five thousand miles away from New York, I could breathe. It was a new beginning, and I took complete advantage. I learned to surf on the beaches of Waikiki, hiked to the top of Diamond Head, and snorkeled with tropical fish and sea turtles in Hanauma Bay.

  The dark clouds had finally separated. Or so I thought.

  I didn’t even realize it was happening. It was like a tiny tear in your favorite shirt that you never even notice until there is a gaping hole in the seam. I tried to ignore it, tried to keep myself busy with classes and extracurricular activities, but it was always there. The heaviness in my chest weighing me down. Thoughts of him fogging my mind. And once I acknowledged the feelings sprouting inside me, they grew rapidly, like radioactive flowers.

  You can’t love him, I kept telling myself. He kidnapped you, held you captive, forced you to wear a collar and be his slave. And he did it all under false pretenses. None of it was real. I pounded that mantra into my head. None of it was real. “I would kill for you.”

  Was it?

  That brings me to present day.

  My freshman year of college is almost over. I’m living the life I thought I wanted and second-guessing myself every day.


  I close my eyes and try not to think, try to ignore the heat my body is missing, and the way a certain pair of hands used to touch me, hold me, subdue me until I was coming undone at his command. Nights like these are the worst because nothing can satisfy the need. Trust me, I’ve tried relentlessly to fulfill it—but my desire only wants one thing. Or only one person, I should say. My body is still a lecherous traitor even after all this time. I slip my hands into my underwear and massage the ungodly ache.

  “Every morsel of food you eat, every breath of air you take is because of me. Because I allow it . . . You live because of me. You live for me. Remember that when you fall asleep with my come inside you.”

  IT’S A BEAUTIFUL, CLEAR MORNING.

  I have a cup of Starbucks in my hand and the roof off my Jeep. I bought it the first week I was here. An obnoxious yellow Wrangler I am absolutely in love with. With the money I saved over the years, some grants, and a very large severance package from Mark, my finances are sitting pretty for the foreseeable future. I don’t need much, a one-bedroom apartment, my car, and some groceries keep me living modestly, but happy. The fact that all those things are located in the middle of paradise doesn’t hurt, either.

  I take a seat in my English class, prepared to ace my last final.

  “Morning, good looking.” Michael slips into the seat next to me.

  “Morning yourself,” I reply as I take a sip of my blonde roast.

  “Ready to crush this test?” he asks with a cute grin and huge dimples. He’s adorable. I met Michael in this very seat at the beginning of the semester. He’s in the same boat I am; he started college late, and is immersed in a sea of barely legal adults. Being a twenty-three-year-old freshman can have its downfalls. Like cradle robbing.

  Michael wasn’t shy; he sat right next to me, struck up a conversation, and we haven’t stopped talking since. We started hanging out after class, then on the weekends, and what started out as an innocent friendship snowballed into something more. Something fun and physical and completely carefree. At least for me. I know Michael wants more, but there’s just no way I’m ready for that. I’m perfectly happy getting drunk, having sex, and leaving it at that.