One of Many (12 page)

Something I told myself I'd never feel.

But being inside Audrey has taught me something. That I'm not in charge of my heart any more than I'm in charge of fucking her.

The heart is a merciless bastard of deceit, whispering its lies until belief turns to something else.

Love.

Audrey throws her head back, her pussy pulsing around my cock like a wet fist, and I can't stop my release

Don't want to.

I come from my toenails, planting my dick high and deep. I unload my seed into her womb, every drop.

I slap my palms on the floor around her head and dip my chin almost to my chest. Hot water cascades from my jaw, dripping between Audrey's tits.

She lowers her legs, and I lie on top of her, my elbows taking some of the weight, our bodies still joined.

She smiles shyly at me. “I want to do that again.”

Me too.
And therein lies the problem.

With a single time inside her, I find that Audrey has shattered my plan to smithereens.

Because I couldn't be inside her without her being inside me.

Audrey

I stand at the top of the stairs, looking out the big window that’s above the front door. The way this house is situated on the top of the hill means I can see the rest of The Community. The view makes me think of a king standing in the tallest tower of his castle, overlooking a village full of peasants who are forced to do whatever he orders or face beheading.

That’s probably exactly why Father Weston chose a house built from this perspective.

Among the rows of simple houses, I spy the one I lived in for the last five years. The one my parents still live in. Hurt pangs in my heart, and I miss them, my mother especially.

I drop my gaze to the front door, eyeing the little keypad that’s stuck on the wall next to it. I remember seeing it when I first arrived and thinking it strange to have an alarm system. Who in The Community would hurt Father Weston? Now I realize it’s not to alert him of someone coming in the house but to let him know if one of us leaves.

A car makes its way down the gravel road that runs through the center of The Community. It’s an unusual sight; no one besides Father Weston has a car. Living here, we don’t need one since we have everything we need.

He takes everything. Houses, cars, money…
life
.

I scan rolling hills in the far distance. A shiver runs down my spine, and instead of feeling that I’m living in the safe haven Father Weston says The Community is, I feel as if I’m stuck in the middle of one of those horror movies I used to watch when Mom and Dad weren’t home—when I was innocent and free.

I am no longer innocent.

Not wanting to see the new members get out and officially become robbed of everything they ever had, I turn and make my way to my room. I can feel Kiev between my legs with every step.

I am no longer a virgin.

And I am fucking glad that Kiev was my first, that Father Weston wasn’t able to take yet another thing from me. I sink down onto my mattress, smoothing out the silken sheets and wishing Kiev were here.

He got into a fight with his dad once Father Weston came home from Worship. Ginny told him that she caught us talking, but Kiev took all the blame. I said exactly what he wanted me to say: I was in the garden to get eggs, and he cornered me. I was scared and didn’t know what to do.

Father Weston soothed me by fondling my breasts, twisting my nipples between his fingers until it hurt. I think he believed me, though if Ginny had been watching for long, she would have known there was lust in my eyes, not fear.

I stayed in my room as Father Weston and Kiev shouted at each other until Father Weston left to welcome the new members into this place of eternal damnation.

There’s a welcome celebration tonight. The whole Community has been busy cooking and decorating the Hall. There was a time I took part in the excitement over new members.

Mom and Dad would say how lucky the newbies were, and how great Father Weston is for taking them in. He didn’t have to, after all. I thought it was wonderful another family would join us in surviving the until the end days. Nothing scares me more than being alone.

I lie back and close my eyes, exhausted from an emotional morning and then making love to Kiev.

I want to do it again.

My hand gravitates between my legs at the thought of him. Just as I sweep my fingers across my clit, there’s a knock at the door. A single knock.

I sit up and watch the doorknob slowly twist. My heart hammers. I’m scared Father Weston is back to get me and make me come with him. The knob rotates until the door unlatches, but no one enters.

I swallow, still waiting. One minute goes by. Then two.

“Kiev,” I whisper to myself and get off the bed. He’s not in the hall, and his bedroom door is closed and locked. I walk through the house and find him in the library. It’s a big room in the front of the house, with one wall covered in bookshelves from floor to ceiling.

“Audrey,” he breathes, and his hard expression drops as soon as I walk in. He’s standing near the fireplace in the back of the room.

“Kiev, what do you want?”

“I wanted to make sure that fucker didn’t hurt you.”

I shake my head. “No, he didn’t.” I cross the room to risk an embrace. I reach out to wrap my arms around Kiev, but he turns away.

“No, Audrey.”

“But we…”

“We fucked. That’s it.”

“It was more than that to me,” I say quietly. “And it was to you.”

“I fuck. That’s all I do. It’s sex.” He looks down, unable to hold my gaze.

“You’re lying.”

Suddenly he jerks forward and grabs my arm. “I don’t have time for this.”

I yank my arm out of his hold. “Time for what?”

“For whatever the hell it is you want.”

I lick my lips. “All I want is you.”

He turns away, plowing a hand through the strands of his gorgeous inky hair. “Listen, Little Bride, there’s nothing between us. You want me to fuck you again? Make you come so hard you black out? I can do that. Hell, I will do that. But nothing more.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes,” he growls.

“Look me in the eye and say it then.” I want to test him. I want to because I know he’ll fail. Kiev might be a lot of things—bad things—but he’s not a liar. Not like his father.

“Fine.” He turns on me and takes both my wrists in his hands. Suddenly, I’m backed into a bookshelf, and his pelvis presses into mine. Heat radiates between my legs, and the want for him is back strong. “I’ll look you in the eye when I’m fucking you too.”

I let out a breath and open my mouth, my whole body craving him again. Before I can get another word out, he kisses me, and I melt against him.

“Fuck it, Audrey,” he pants and lifts me up. My legs wrap around him, and he turns, walks to the center of the room, and lays me down on a leather couch. He gets on top of me, between my legs. “Maybe it was something more. But I don’t love you. And you don’t love me.”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“You don’t know what love is.” He holds himself up with his elbows, his face inches from mine.

“And you do?”

He answers with another kiss. “You shouldn’t love me.” Each word comes out quietly and forced, as if every syllable was painful. He rests his head on my breasts. “I mean it. I don’t have time for this. There’s something I have to do, and you’re not part of that.”

“I thought I was something you enjoyed doing.”

He lifts his head, smiling. Amusement looks good on him. Hell, everything looks good on him.

“Trust me, Little Bride, I fucking love doing you.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“I’ll call you what I want.” He kisses me once more then moves off.  And shit, his lips feel good against mine. I don’t want them to move off and stop kissing me. Unless he’s kissing something else, that is. “Go do your chores.”

“But what about—”

“Pace yourself. As much as I’d love to fill you again, have patience.”

I nod, knowing there is more to this than he’s telling me. It has to do with his plans, whatever the hell that means. I’m determined to find out. He leaves the library, no doubt aware of how hot and bothered he made me.

I have to check the list to see what I should be doing at this hour. Since I had breakfast duty this morning, I won’t have to make lunch. But I do have to clean the bathrooms top to bottom with bleach.

When I’m done, I go back to the library and find a book. I make it two chapters into
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
before Father Weston comes home.

“Audrey, my love,” he greets me. “Come here. I have something for you.”

Vomit rises in my throat when I see him standing in the doorway of the library. I put the book away and follow him into his office. A shopping bag sits on his desk. It’s designer; I recognize the black-and-white logo.

“Go ahead. Open it,” he tells me, acting as if he’s giving a starving man a picnic basket full of food.

I reach inside the bag and pull out an ivory evening gown. It’s adorned with rhinestones and beautiful hand stitching.

“It’s gorgeous,” I say, telling the truth. “What is it for?”

“Tonight. You wear that and you’ll be the star of the celebration.”

The new members are supposed to be the stars. I clench my jaw and smile. “Thank you, Father Weston.”

“You want to wear it, don’t you? You want to be beautiful?”

I want to get the fuck away from here is what I want. “Yes, I do.”

“Then earn it.”

“What?”

“Take your clothes off. Slowly.”

I wrap my arms around myself, unable to help the tears that spring to my eyes. Father Weston unbuckles his belt and plunges his hand down his pants, rubbing himself as I fumble with the button on my dress.

He’s jerking his dick as I roll the straps down over my shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor.

“Keep stripping.”

I nod and unhook my bra and drop it to the floor. Then Father Weston rushes forward and bends me over his desk. Papers fall to the ground, scattering behind us. His pants come off, and he kneels over me, still rubbing his cock. Precum drips onto my chest, and he pitches forward and grabs my breasts, pushing them together. Then he shoves his cock between. Tears run down the side of my face, and I close my eyes, wanting this to be over.

“Look at me.”

No.

“Look at me!”

I open my eyes and hold his gaze as he shoves himself back and forth against me. I turn my head when he finishes, wanting to gag as semen drips down my neck.

“Very good,” he praises. “You can wear the dress tonight.”

He puts his pants back on and walks out of the room, leaving me naked and dirty on his desk. I use my sundress to wipe myself off then put it back on, heading upstairs to vomit and shower.

Kiev is in his room, with the door closed. I can hear music playing and something moving around. I don’t knock. I don’t think twice. I open the door.

“Audrey, what the hell are you—”

“I don’t care what kind of plans you have. I have to get out of here, and you are going to help me.” 

Kiev

I'm lying on the bed, wearing jeans and nothing else, ear pods shoved in while I listen to vintage rock. The kind before they fucked it up.

I don't hear anything, but I see a flash of white and sit up in bed.

Audrey appears, closing the door behind her and leaning against the solid wood. She's got a summer dress on. A tight little virginal thing.

Though we both know she's no virgin.

The expression of fear on her face has me standing then striding to the door.

“Audrey, what the hell are you—”

Her aqua eyes skate around nervously, then find mine again.

“I don’t care what kind of plans you have. I have to get out of here, and
you
are going to help me.” 

She's saying words, but my gaze is riveted on the patches of shiny shit flaking off her neck.

I stare, my mind churning like bile. “What. The. Fuck?” I flick a finger at a large patch. “Is that fucking
cum
?”

Audrey flushes a deep red, biting her lip. She gives a single miserable nod. “Yeah.”

“God dammit!” I explode. I spin around and pace away from her.

“Kiev!” she calls out softly, and I can tell by the sound of her voice she's following me.

I whirl and grip her arm.

Audrey cowers as I drag her into my bathroom. “Fuck this, motherfucking bullshit.”

I tear the dress off her body, and she yelps. “What? I couldn't—he made me.”

“I know,” I say in a low voice.

I twist the hot water faucet on viciously, and when it's hot enough, I push Audrey inside the shower.

I love fucking water.

Gets rid of all kinds of bad shit. Like my father's cum on my girl.

Mine.

There's that ownership shit again.

I spin her away from me, tear off my jeans one handed, and bury my dick between the crack of her ass, splitting her cheeks.

“Ah!” she grunts against the tile wall.

Fuck yeah.
I plow a finger into her, and she's drenched. 

“God.” I put my head against the top of hers, pumping inside her once, twice.

Audrey rises to her tiptoes, arching her back, and presenting her tight ass like an offering.

I move down, lifting her ass cheeks, and spread her hard—wide. I line up my cock with her hole and start pushing into her.

My balls throb to release inside all that soaked tightness. But I hold back.

It's important she gets off. I don't ask myself why.

I keep my fingers moving on her clit, and I use gravity to impale her pussy on my cock.

Audrey groans as I move inside her, my fingertips dancing over her joy button. She spreads her legs wider, and I plow deep, taking everything she offers, and her tight channel clenches around me.

“Kiev,” she pants.

Close.

I punish her clit, ramming my thumb down in the wet, sweet goodness between her slit, and she grunts in a half-sobbing scream as she helplessly pulses against me.

My release feels like a shotgun of seed going off into the slick containment of her wet cunt.

I leave her and grab her ass again, finishing off as water cascades all around us, locking us together in a steaming cocoon.

Good. Audrey is so good—right.

Mine.

*

Hot tears run down her face, and I brush them off with my thumbs.

“You have a thing for showers, Kiev,” she says, trying for funny but holding back tears that make this look like what it is: sad as fuck.

“Listen,” I say, swiping another fat water gem from her cheek, “I couldn't stand his cum on you. Had to get rid of it, had to give you something good.”

I cup my hand over her slit, and Audrey closes her eyes. Pain, passion, and relief wash over her features, and I insert my middle finger, feeling my seed inside her coming out.

Her eyes open, a startling blue. Tears and redness make them even more arresting. “You did, Kiev.”

She wants to say more. I see it.

I know what it is.

“You own me,” she whispers.

“Tell me what all this is,” I say, not replying to her comment.

“He's going to fuck me, I know it.” Her lip trembles. “I don't want to, Kiev—I don't!”

I can't stand the thought of Weston touching her. Hell, he came on Audrey, and that caused a firestorm of shower and fucking. How would I feel if he fucked Audrey?

Better not to think about it. Better to stay with the plan.

I pump my finger inside her, and I know the plan is unraveling. Ragged breaths drive in and out of me. I'm
this close
to hyperventilating from a finger inside her. I tear it out and straighten.

“I can't—” I mutter and step out of the shower. I don't look back at Little Bride.
Can't.

Won't.

“Kiev—take me with you, wherever you're going.” Her voice becomes hoarse, and she slams into me from behind, wrapping her small arms around my waist in a death grip.

I cover her hands with my own.

“I
am
going, but I have to take down The Community first.”

I slowly turn. Hold on to her arms. “He has to be stopped, Audrey. Forever. This theft of people's life savings, their property. All of it. And there's one wife who I think is sympathetic to our cause.”

“Who?” Audrey asks, frantically searching my eyes.

“Anna.” I smirk. “Weston can't get anyone pregnant. He's fucking sterile.”

Audrey's hand covers her gasp. “Then why take other Chosens?”

“Why do you think?”

“Just to own us?” she whispers with a disgusted look on her face.

I nod. Weston's a sick fuck, taking a new teen bride every few years, and hiding behind the need for a young wife to bear his children makes it seem more legit. It's not, especially given he can't have more kids.

“If we can go to Langley, express our doubts, get his help in tracking down my mom—”

“You—where do you think she is?”

My inhale rattles. “Dead for sure. She would have never left me. Never. I think Weston got rid of her when she began to question the need for more wives.”

“But is he capable of murder?” Audrey asks, her eyes slinking around my room. She catches sight of her sundress and picks it up between her fingers. One of the straps is completely gone.

I can't help my grin. “He'll buy you another.”

“I don't want him to,” she admits, and another slow tear slides out of her eye, rolling a grief-stricken pathway down her face.

I pull her into me and tuck her head beneath my chin. “I don't know if he actually pulled the trigger...”

Audrey steps back, tilting her face to mine. “Trigger?”

I wave it away. “It's an expression. I don't know if he actually did the deed. But I know he had something to do with it.” I cover my stomach with my hand. “Gut feeling.”

“What did he tell the police when your mom disappeared?”

My face tightens. “That she ran out on him.”

I can tell by Audrey's look of disbelief she thinks that excuse is pretty convenient.

Cuz it is.

“I have an in now with Langley. He's already suspicious. Now we go to him with the bullshit from The Community, we tell him how my mom never came back, that Weston beats you—”

Audrey shrinks away from me.

And I lean into her. “Don't go soft on me now. You're the one who said you'd do
anything
.”

She stands there nude and vulnerable. I feel like a fucking bully. But I have to see this thing through. For me.

Mom.

Her.

“Father Weston can hurt my parents, Kiev.”

Christ.
“Audrey, outing him for the sadistic perv he is
will
help your parents.”

“I don't know,” she says, her voice fragile.

I move to my bed and beckon her with my hand.

She walks over. Beautiful, naked—small and unsure.

I open my palm, and she takes it. “Come ’ere.”

She slips in beside me. “Do you think we're safe?”

I nod. “Hell yes. Weston gets off with you then runs off to do his ʻwelcome the new members’ spiel? Yeah, he's going to parade you tonight, right?”

Her blue eyes grow wide. “How do you know?”

“Weston uses a punish-reward system. You do something dirty for him, then he gives you something in return.”

“Did he do that with you?” she asks.

Tangled bodies and grunts surface in my memory like dirty footprints on snow.

“Yeah,” I say in soft reply. “He forced me to watch him have sex with the wives.” I give her a swift look. “My mom was already gone.”

“Oh, Kiev,” Audrey says as though she's mourning my stolen innocence. It's nice someone is. “How old were you?”

I look away. “About eight, I guess.”

“He's fucking awful.”

Can't refute that. “Yeah.”

“But that’s not the worst he’s done,” I say, words spilling from my mouth before I can stop myself. Why does Audrey make me come undone?

“What can be worse than that?”

“He made me join.”

“Join?” Her eyes widen in horror. “When?”

“After puberty.”

“Oh my God. That's like child rape or something.”

I hadn't thought about it like that. I'd been watching my dad fuck women for five years. When he'd called me out of the closet where I'd stood as voyeur, it was natural to join in.

Especially when the alternative was a beating.

“Or something,” I say, raking an unsteady hand through my hair.

Audrey nods. “You went away…how?”

I smirk. “I started causing trouble. On purpose. Tried showing the bullshit for exactly what it was: bullshit. Father Weston had to uphold his reputation as a supreme being. Kicking me out didn’t jive with that. And having two family members disappear is too obvious. So college was a perfect solution.”

She nods again, and I know the notion of any sort of school is odd to her. The thought of college probably hasn’t even entered her brain. Fuck. I need to get her out of here. I need to give back what’s left of her life. I’m finding myself longing to see her happy, to see her living a normal life.

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why was he so horrible to you? You’re his son. His firstborn.”

I shrug. “I suppose it was because I reminded him of my mother. She couldn’t be manipulated, couldn’t be fooled. It must have felt like failure to him.”

Silence falls between us. Audrey takes in a breath and locks eyes with me. “I hate him.”

Her eyes search mine. “If he knew we were making love?”

Making love?
“He'd hurt us. Weston wants a virgin. He wants me doing what I'm told, on his terms. I haven't touched a wife in ten years. It was a punishment to them. Having his teenage son screw them while he watched. Forced them. He victimized us all.”

Audrey shudders.

“Once I got old enough, eighteen, I had done what he'd wanted, and he gave me the money for college.” I shrug, but a weird stinging begins behind my eyelids. As if they're on fire.

I blink.

And Audrey's finger is suddenly there to catch what falls.

Weak.

I'm fucking weak.

She holds my face, kissing each wet piece of my soul away until it's only her lips.

Her love.

My self-hatred lessens in her hands.

*

I startle awake.

Disoriented. Because there's a soft curving form tucked into my side like a missing part of my body—found.

Audrey sleeps quietly beside me, and I smell her hair without opening my eyes. Running a hand down her side, hesitating at the valley of her waist and then feathering my fingertips over the lush swell of her hip has me popping an instant boner.

I smell me on her, and underneath that, only Audrey.

Her scent is becoming home.

Lethal.

My mind travels to all the things we discussed. Her fear of her parents being the whipping boy for her misdeeds. Mine.

But it's gotta happen. What he did to me, he'll repeat with my half siblings. Weston's compulsive. And I can't say that he wouldn't do something worse to my little sisters when they reach a certain age. I have to protect them since no one was there to protect the boy I was. Since no one is here to protect any of these people.

Weston is no shepherd of his flock but a wolf in disguise.