Black 21: (Golden Hills Legacy of Black 21 Book 1) (6 page)

Christian
dropped Daisy off after buying her lunch and promising to figure something out
before the next event. He had other things on his mind. He drove up to the
ornate gate of his home and punched in the code. The gates swung open to
welcome him back, swallowing him. He screeched his tires through the circular
driveway. He ran past James and up the stairs to his room. He wanted to scream,
cry, throw something, or hit someone. It was as if a true rage was triggering
the beast inside, a beast he feared to bring out.

Daisy...was...raped...by...Dane.

He stormed into
his room and slammed the door, vibrating the whole house.

He wanted to
pack her up and get the hell out of town for good, but he couldn’t let Dane get
away with it that easy. Now it was his turn to be sick. He ran to his joining
bathroom and emptied his stomach, the soup and sandwich he barely had swallowed
at lunch.

He raked his
fingers through his hair. She had no idea it was her own cousin, and at the
hands of her own father! But his father had said burglary, so this was a little
secret of Dane’s. Dane knew she was supposed to be a virgin.

Then the thought
hit him like a sledgehammer. If Jack discovered Daisy was spoiled, he would
have her killed instantly.

That’s what had
happened to his sister, Lara. She had had premarital sex with her boyfriend
before William sacrificed her to Jack, and when Jack realized she wasn’t a
virgin, he had her burned at the stake like a true witch.

Oh, Jesus.

He stared at
the picture sitting on his nightstand next to his bed. His mother’s beautiful
smile stared back at him in her happier days. He sat on his bed and picked up
the picture. “What do I do, Mom? Tell me. I’m lost.”

A searing pain
ripped through his body. He walked to his dresser and looked in the mirror. A
darkness clouded his eyes. “No,” he said to his reflection. “You’re Christian,
no one else. You have love in your heart. You’re good,” he stated through
clenched teeth.

His arm flew
across the dresser in a fury, knocking all the items off, and growled in a
voice not his own. “You hate this world, Christian. You only want the money and
riches. You want all the sex you can get. Call Charlotte,” he demanded of
himself. “She’ll satisfy you!”

“No! I want
Daisy, only Daisy,” he cried, ripping his hands through his hair.

The beast
continued. “Daisy’s too sweet, too nice! You want danger. You like it rough.
Admit it! Remember the last time? Remember when you bent Charlotte over
backwards until she screamed?”

“Stop!" He
ran to the bathroom and vomited once more, more bile and dry heaves this time.

“Please,
God...help me,” he cried in a cracked voice. He grabbed his phone and opened to
a picture of Daisy.

***

The doorbell
chimed and then a knock on his bedroom door. He cleaned up the mess he had just
made and strode to open it.

“Hello,
Christian. I miss you bad. Don’t you miss me?" Charlotte asked, closing
the door behind her, with a gleam in her eye and a grin to match.

His jaw
tightened. “Get out. I told you it was over and I meant it." He walked to
the door and opened it for her.

“You did? Hmm,
I don’t remember that, Chris. All I remember is you screwing me one day and the
next I’m meeting this Daisy." She let the long trench coat she was wearing
drop to the floor, revealing nothing underneath, her long dark hair draping
over her full breasts.

“No. I said get
out!”

She laughed and
walked behind him, running her hand down to his crotch. “There’s no way you’re
getting any from Miss Virgin. I mean, she is supposed to be a virgin, right?
That’s what Jack wants,” she purred in his ear.

He shoved her
away and she fell on his bed, giggling at his reaction.

“I love it when
you’re rough. I want more of that power burning in you, Christian. I want it to
mix with my blood, poison me, make me bad like you,” she said, caressing her
body.

He scoffed.
“You’re already that. You don’t need me to help. And I’m not bad. That’s not
the real me. Now leave.”

“Oh, but it is,
honey. Your name may be godly, but your soul is something else. Just accept it.
Once Jack knocks Daisy up with his spawn, if she lives through that carnal
episode, you’ll want me by your side and in your bed, I promise,” she said in a
husky tone. “I can see it in your eyes you want me right now. Let the beast
out, Christian. Come to me!”

He slammed the
door and grabbed her, pressing his lifeless lips hard against hers. “Is this
what you want?”

Her hooded eyes
closed. “Oh, darling...yes!" She rocked her body up to meet his, to feel
his maleness, pulling him down on top of her.

A guttural cry
roared from his throat. That pain seized him, the wrath returning. “No!
Daisy!" He tried to pull away from her clutches, but she rolled on top of
him. She pinned him to the bed, tugged his jeans down, and grunted like a boar
at feeding time.

She spoke in a
desperate, hoarse tone. “Forget Daisy! You belong to me, Christian! I finally
got you after Tara died, even if it was only for sex, and I’m not letting you
go!” she cried. “We’ll live in hell together! I would kill for you!" She
pushed his shirt up and licked his chest, moving her way down.

He pushed her
off and adjusted his shirt. He walked to the door, waiting for her to get up. She
remained sprawled on the bed. He almost felt pity for her, almost. “Get out,
Charlotte. This is the last time I want you to pull something like this. You
hear me?”

Her voice
cracked. “I love you, Christian. We’re meant for each other, don’t you see?” she
cried. She sat up on her knees, her breasts dangling.

“Love? You
don’t know the meaning. Your beliefs are the same as everyone else’s in this
town, all want money and power. You love money, Charlotte, not me.”

“And Daisy
knows about love? She’ll never please you like I can and you know it.”

“You’re so
wrong about that, Charlotte. But you weren’t raised to know about real love,
were you. You’re ugly on the inside and now it’s spilling to the outside.”

She got up and
pulled her coat on. “Wait until the beast comes back, and it will. He’ll want
me. You’ll come looking for me. Right now, you’re sweet Christian, good
Christian. Wait when he comes into your dreams and makes you want me again.
Will Daisy want you then?" She gave a devious laugh. “You know when it’s
the hour of your birthday and you’re anointed, there’ll be no more good
Christian. You might as well change your name because it’ll be a mockery. Maybe
Damien?" She smiled, satisfied with herself.

Christian stood
there, balling his hands into fists, wanting to hurt her. His pulses throbbed
with vehemence.

She stood on
her toes and kissed his lips once more before she left. “One last kiss before
the ball,” she said, then she ran her tongue across her lips. “Mmmm, power and
greed tastes so good.”

He shut the
door after her and walked to his bathroom to take a shower, washing his body of
her remnants.

After her new
education, Daisy decided to go for a drive and get away from her uncle’s house.
The thought of going back there made her sick. Who could she trust? If not
family, then who? She drove without turning the radio on. No music could lift
her right now. Music would only remind her of a normal life she didn’t lead
anymore.

“Why, Dad?” she
asked out loud. “Why?”

As she drove,
she noticed a homeless man on the side near a small drug store, holding a sign
that read All Is Lost. She scanned his eyes but only saw black holes. She shook
her head. “I don’t believe that. Not all is lost,” she persuaded herself to
believe.

The need to
find a church grew stronger and she searched the area. “No churches?" She
traced street after street only to find stores.

The library.

Fire station.

Police station.

Post Office.

Big houses.

Little houses.

Where are they?
Not even one?

Then she
remembered what Christian told her, what Jack asked of William, to make a place
of worship for him only, to let his Christian way of life go.

Daisy circled
into a U-turn and headed back to the homeless man. Maybe he could give her some
answers.

She scanned the
same street he was on but nothing. Where did he go?

It was only
eight o’clock, but the streets were vacant. Street lights flipped on,
illuminating her way back. She turned the radio on to take some of the eerie
silence away and wished she didn’t.

Every channel
she turned on played the same song. A song her father used to listen to when
she was little by the Rolling Stones. “What the...” She tried turning the radio
off and it wouldn’t let her.

The song
replayed over and over.

She played along.
“Your name is Jack Red! Did I guess right? Leave me alone!" She grabbed
her phone and tried to text Christian but no service, throwing it to the seat
in disgust.

Fear gripped
her heart, merging into her veins like hot wax. The street lamps flickered off
and on, a game he seemed to be enjoying. She blew the red lights since no cars
were out. Was there a curfew?

“I’ll never be
yours! Do you hear me? Never!”

The song drove
her mad. It pierced her brain like tiny, stabbing needles.

“Please!” she
cried, grabbing her head. It felt like she was lost in a maze, seeing the same
streets again and again.

She grabbed her
cross and began to pray “Our Father who art in heaven...”

The radio shut
off and the street lamps stayed on, allowing her to find her way home.

***

As soon as she
got in her room, she called Christian and told him what happened. The house was
empty except for a note left for her to say they went to some church function.
She knew what kind of church.

“I’m coming
over, Daisy,” Christian stated.

“No, I’m
fine...really. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“He’s messing
with you...with us. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“My father is
at that mass. I can bring you here.”

“I’m taking a
shower. If I still feel spooked, I’ll call, okay?”

“Okay. I hope you
do." He hung up.

She turned on
the hot water to scald the day’s events away, feeling like a sauna behind the
flowery curtain. Steam rose from her skin as she scrubbed it hard to cleanse
herself of something she didn’t understand.

After getting
her pajamas on, she headed toward her bed. A faint knock on her door froze her
to her spot. Feeling her heart thud in her chest, she forced herself to move
closer to the door to listen. No sound. She cracked the door open.

“Hello, Cousin
Daisy." Dane’s hand rested on the doorframe, looking down into her face.
He wore a lopsided grin, almost seeming buzzed.

“Dane, please.
I just want to go to bed." She tried to close the door, but he stuck his
foot inside her room, stopping it.

His eyes rove
down her body. His features contorted into something not human. “So do I.”

She kneed him
in the groin, bringing him to the floor. She ran back in her room to grab her
phone.

“You
bitch!" He yanked her hair before she could reach it, making her scream.
He cradled her face then. “I’m sorry, Daisy,” he whispered. “Forgive me. Wait
for my birthday next year. We can be a team. Forget about Christian." He
pushed her down on the bed and straddled her. “I will give you everything
you’ve ever wanted! You can teach here. The kids need you. We could raise
Jack’s baby...please,” he begged, his face hovered over hers, sour alcohol
oozing from his breath.

“Get off of me
now,” she demanded in a low tone. “I love Christian,” she cried. Tears slid
down her face and into her wet tangled hair. “I know that may sound crazy, but
I do.”

He scoffed.
“The beast is too strong for Christian. It’s taking over him the closer he gets
to his birthday, Daisy. He’ll toss you aside after Jack gets you pregnant, mark
my words,” he hissed. Then in a softer tone he said, “At least with me, you’ll
always be with family. My parents love you and would welcome you as their
daughter." He pressed his lips to hers. “Please.”

She tossed her
head back and forth to fight his kiss. “No!" Her arms were locked down to
her sides in his grip.

“I love you,
Daisy. Be with me for eternity,” he growled in a raspy, low voice. His lips
came back down to continue his kiss.

“Get off Daisy
now, son, or I’ll have to shoot,” Uncle Joe instructed in a calm voice.

Dane turned and
stared at his father holding a gun aimed at him. “Have you lost your mind, old
man?" He pulled himself off of her and stood, staring in disbelief.

She grabbed the
blankets and covered herself, watching the two men confront each other.

“You know she
was promised to Christian. You’ve been told to leave her alone." Uncle Joe
still pointed the gun at Dane’s chest.

“As I’ve said
before, she’s mine.”

“I don’t know
what you mean by that, but Jack sent me to stop this, and I will, even if I
have to kill you. Don’t make me kill you, Dane,” he said in a flat voice.
“Promise me you’ll leave her alone.”

Daisy looked at
her cousin and remembered him as a young boy with tussled blond hair, playing
with his trucks. Uncle Joe never really played with him, always ushered him
outside or told him he was busy.

Dane craved
love anywhere he could get it, especially from his father, wanting to be
accepted. When he couldn’t get it is when he must have turned hard. Now his
father held his life in his hands as if it would mean nothing to kill his own
child.

All for Jack
Red.

“Uncle Joe, I’m
fine...really. Please don’t shoot Dane. This won’t happen again." She
paused, thinking of something to do. “I can go stay at Stone Manor until the
birthday. It’s big enough. I’m sure there’s a room for me to stay in until this
dance is over. Would that work?”

Uncle Joe
contemplated her offer and smiled. “That’s a great idea, Daisy! Yes, yes. Why
didn’t I think of that earlier? I’ll call Bill and make arrangements,” he said,
still waving the gun around, looking mentally unstable.

She had always
thought of her uncle as a strong, viral man. But this man that stood before
her? He looked like a lunatic. The thought of leaving this house made her heart
sing.

He turned to
Dane. “You’re one lucky man, Dane. You should be kissing your cousin’s feet.
She saved you from yourself." Uncle Joe turned and left the room to call
William Stone.

Dane turned to
her and said in a dry voice. “He’s right, Daisy. You saved my life. But will
you be here to save his?” Dane asked.

“What does that
mean, Dane?" Worry etched her face.

“Nothing."
He walked to the door and turned back to her. “Maybe you’ll see what really
goes on in Stone Manor and the real Christian in all his glory. You better wear
your cross at all times, Daisy. At least with me you know what you’re
getting." He closed the door and left her to her own thoughts.

***

Daisy drove
through the black elaborate gates that led through to a fountain of what looked
like gargoyles surrounding a circular marble pond, giving it a dark gothic
appearance. She didn’t really notice this yesterday when she was here, but now
the sun sparkled on every aspect of this magnificent home.

It was almost
as if dark angels guarded it in statuesque form, perched atop the house, on the
porch, on the gate, glowering from their stoned masks. Luminescent columns held
their position underneath the balcony overlooking the piazza, a gargoyle
standing guard on each end of the dazzling, expansive porch.

The double
doors opened and James bounced down to carry her baggage. Christian sauntered
behind him with a huge grin, swinging his arms wide to welcome her. His
sensual, dark looks against the stark white structure stunned her as if seeing
him for the first time. She paused, drinking in his beauty, before returning to
her belongings. Popping the trunk open, she went to help him. “No, ma’am. I’ll
get it,” James insisted, putting his hand up.

“Thank you,
James,” she replied.

Christian
walked down the steps and pulled her into his arms. “You smell good, like
Lilacs and oranges,” he said, holding his face to her hair.

“Thanks, I
guess?”

He gave a
raucous laugh and grabbed her hand, guiding her up the steps. “So how did you do
it? How did you get him to let you come here to stay?”

She couldn’t
tell him what happened with Dane. “I just thought it might be easier for
everyone, and Uncle Joe agreed,” she half lied, giving a crooked smile.

He cupped her
chin to meet his gaze. “Damn, you’re cute." He kissed the tip of her nose
and smiled, staring into her eyes. “Let me show you around and then...your
room.”

“Your house,
Christian...oh, my God,” she said in awe, taking it all in.

“It’s been in
the family for a couple of centuries." His voice dropped. “One day to be
all mine.”

Then she
remembered how they got it. It wasn’t any ordinary house. It came with blood,
tears, and sacrifice.

A grand
ornamental chandelier hung from the center in the foyer with a few other
smaller ones hanging in different spots, illuminating the main floor. The
glamorous double staircases with the elegant banisters led to the upper floor.
Interesting murals covered the walls of more gargoyles and goats with horns and
wings.

One oil
painting caught her eye. “Who are those people? They look so in love,” she
asked, pointing at a picture on the second floor landing.

“Those are my
parents, William and Lana, in the nineteenth century,” he added, looking for
her reaction.

They appeared
to be standing in a dungeon with sconces on the walls holding fire. Their
apparel was definitely of that time period. “She married your father after his
first wife died?" She was mesmerized by their obvious love for each other.

“You’re getting
it now. He made himself be the age of twenty-one again and had the first ball,
at least here in Golden Hills. She was the love of his life and lived for two
centuries with him until...” his voice drifted off.

“…she killed
herself five years ago?”

“Yes." He
stared at the painting with narrowed eyes.

“But how could
she if she was also immortal?”

“I lied about
her hanging herself.”

“What’d she
do?”

“She had missed
her son Leon and wanted to join him, but my father always begged her to not
leave him. After my girlfriend, Tara, had died, she couldn’t take it anymore so
she went to the altar of God she had made for herself when she would sneak me
off to pray there, and asked for forgiveness for all the evil in her life,” he
paused to remember the details, looking down at the floor, sighing heavily.

“It’s okay,
Christian. You don’t have to explain,” she whispered. She reached out and
touched his hardened jaw.

He looked up at
her, continuing his story in a softer tone. “She blessed the blade of a Bowie
knife in holy water and walked to the altar, praying one last time. She begged
God to take her soul and to take her away from this darkness. So, she plunged
the knife into her heart, and she was found clutching her cross pendent across
her bloody chest with a peaceful look on her face.”

Daisy gasped
and pulled him into her arms. She rained kisses on his face, feeling his pain
through his words. “I just know she’s your angel, Christian. She protects you
from...”

“Myself,” he
finished for her. He smiled and kissed her, his hands pulling her closer to
him, growing more insistent as he tasted her mouth. “Daisy,” he murmured. “I
need you so much.”

She tore
herself away and smiled. “Finish the tour, please,” she dictated.

“Ugh, fine,” he
said, giving in, showing her more paintings, more family history, stopping when
she let out a small scream. “What’s wrong?”

“What is that?”

“Why…does it
seem familiar?” he teased.

“Christian, is
that what happened to me at the hayride? Was that what was behind me?" A
scaly, green monster with wings sprouted to his sides, and a coiling rattlesnake
wrapped around the ankles of a beautiful naked woman with long, red hair
hanging down her pale back, clutched in his embrace.

“Yes. The girl
is Suzanna, my sister.”

She felt dizzy.
“Can you take me to my room now? I don’t feel so well.”

“Too much for
you." He swooped her up and carried her down the hall and to her suite. A
worried look carved his face. “I’ll let you rest, Daisy. If you need anything,
text me and I’ll be right there,” he ordered, kissing her forehead.

She nodded and
closed her eyes, and he was gone.