Ruin & Rule (Pure Corruption MC #1)(39)
Author: Pepper Winters

Not to mention the horror they would endure before their—my—last breath was taken.

Kill tensed, never looking at me. “You’re the sixth and last. If you must know, I refuse to involve myself in crime, regardless of what you think of me.”

My feet stumbled. The magazine covers and the praise of helping the community popped into my mind. Everything pointed to him behaving within the law. He’d come from crime—there was no doubt about that—but I had the feeling he’d turned his Club from the dark and into the light.

“It was a fucking blessed day for all when he took over the Corrupts and made us Pure Corruption.” Grasshopper’s voice echoed in my ears. If that was true—then what the hell was this about?

“What do you mean?”

His boots crunched on gravel as my jeweled flip-flops that Grasshopper had given me slapped quietly. My left leg and foot danced with color in the sunshine while my scars caught the light in a mixture of shy disfigurement.

“Stop asking questions,” Kill muttered, closing the distance between us and a white speedboat. The port wasn’t too busy, only a few clusters of people and vessels moored to creaking riggings.

“Why did you agree to sell me and the other women, then? If it goes against your beliefs, it must be something big. It can’t be for money—you already have more than enough from stock trading.”

He gave me a sideways look, surprise flicking. “You’re right—it’s not for money.”

A skipper with sun protection smeared thickly over his nose and a baseball cap covering his blond hair jumped from the speedboat as we slowed to a stop. “You Kill? Jared called and said there was a change of plans.”

Kill tilted his chin. “Yep. You know where we’re going?”

“Sure do. Not far. Fifteen minutes at the most.”

Kill turned to me and pointed at the gleaming white speedboat. “Get in.”

“Jared? Who’s Jared?”

Kill smirked. “Grasshopper. Jared’s his real name.”

“Oh.” For some reason, it felt odd that the man I’d grown accustomed to had such a normal name. I liked MCs for that reason. Your birth name didn’t define you—your brothers did that with nicknames.

Thorn.

My eyes widened. Thorn was my father’s nickname. I frowned trying to remember his birth name and why he’d earned the strange term of Thorn.

Kill grabbed my elbow, jerking me toward the boat. The sides gleamed with a motif and the name Seahorse Symphony. “I’ll help you.”

I pulled back, suffering a horrible highlight reel of what would happen if I got on that boat. I’d never see him again. Never be free. Subservient to a sadistic asshole for the rest of my life.

I can’t.

My stomach twisted and I looked over my shoulder. Freedom. I wanted it. From him, my memories, everything that had happened. I wanted to go back to the simplicity of treating animals and knowing where I existed in the world.

But that was also a lie.

I didn’t know where I belonged. I worried I never would.

Sarah was only part of me. Who knew what the other part was.

I squirmed in Kill’s hold. Looking up into his fierce face, I begged, “Please… don’t do this, Arthur.”

His green eyes flashed. “Stop asking me that. I’m sick of hearing it. I’ve told you why this has to happen and there’s nothing that will stop it.” Jerking me close, he clamped his hands on my waist. “It’s over, Sarah.”

With powerful arms, he picked me up and swung me over the side of the boat. “And you never learn. My name is not yours to use. I’ll be glad when you’re gone, so I don’t have to keep reminding you.”

Ouch.

My heart twisted as my feet landed on the rough bottom of the vessel. The gentle bob and sway of the tide made me instantly nauseous and craving solid ground.

With my balance compromised, I gripped the side of the boat.

Glaring at me, Kill threw his leg over and jumped aboard. Planting a heavy hand on my shoulder, he marched me toward the back bench and pressed me into a sitting position.

The skipper watched us but didn’t say anything. Instead, he leapt into his craft, turned the key, and pushed off from the dock.

The whirr of the motor curtailed all conversation and the whip of the wind stole tears from my eyes. Within minutes we were out of the harbor and bouncing on waves—the loud slaps of water against the hull echoed in my ears, drowning out my thoughts and rapidly building fear.

Do something.

Like what?

I had no idea how to stop this. The momentum only gathered more inertia the more I tried to prevent the inevitable from happening.

Jump overboard.

And what, suffer death by shark?

I hated that there was no way for me to run—only crystal turquoise ocean and me with no ability to walk on water.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, loud enough for my voice to carry.

Kill didn’t make eye contact, staring at the horizon. “To your new future.”

A chill that had nothing to do with the whipping wind darted down my back. “I can’t make you let me go? You would never have to see me again. You don’t have to do this.”

He shook his head. “I told you. I’m not the one doing this.”

I crossed my arms as the warm Florida sun turned cool with sea breeze. “What do you mean exactly?”

When he didn’t answer, I snapped, “The least you can do is give me answers. Let me understand just a little bit, before you walk away from me.”

My gut rolled painfully.

I’ll never see him again.

He kicked you.

He almost sold you.

He’s not a good person.

So why did my soul cleave in two?

The man before me wasn’t the man I’d pinned all my hopes on. He was nothing like the boy from my dreams. It shouldn’t hurt so much to leave. He was a stranger who’d given me pleasure and granted me the right to heal him when he was vulnerable.

Nothing more.

Try telling that to my stupid, stupid heart.

He finally looked at me. “I’ve told you the most I’m ever going to say. I’m doing this because the man I’m loyal to—the man who gave me everything and understands my need for vengeance—asked me to do this for him.” Running a hand through his messy long hair, he finished, “I’m loyal to those who have proven themselves. I don’t need to know any more than that.”

I could no longer look at him.

Silence fell and I looked to the horizon, hoping for better answers.

I stood on the deck of an impressive superyacht.

The speedboat looked tiny compared to the sleek power of the black-and-silver vessel. The same motif and name Seahorse Symphony emblazoned the side and the light wooden deck with gilded with gold.

“Where are we?” I whispered to Kill.

He gritted his jaw and didn’t reply, his focus remaining entirely on the looming cabin in front. His legs spread against the rolling seas—the waves slower and bigger this far away from shore. Why are we here? To do illegal business where landlubber police couldn’t reach us? Or for a fast getaway once the transaction had been completed?

Transaction.

Even I had resorted to referring to myself like merchandise. It was easier that way—helped numb any stupid idea that I was still human. I wasn’t. I was a toy—had been the moment I stepped foot on this luxury floating prison.

A steward appeared from the interior, weathered and tanned from a life spent on the water. He wore a pristine white uniform with pleats and creases in all the right places. “Hello, Mr. Killian. We’re honored that the president himself could join us. Must say, Mr. Steel is much obliged you’ve come.”

Kill stiffened, his fingers locking tighter around my wrist, where he held me. Why he held me I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I could run anywhere. Unless I could suddenly sprout wings that I’d forgotten about, I was chained here.

“No need to kiss my ass. Change of plans. I wanted to deliver the girl myself.”

To make sure Grasshopper didn’t realize the awfulness of what was about to happen and free me.

“Well, it’s our pleasure to receive you.” The steward flashed us a smile, glowing too white and perfect. “Mr. Steel is expecting you. Please, follow me.”

My stomach knotted and I wanted more than anything to throw myself overboard and swim far away.

Kill sensed my unease. His fingers switched from my wrist to my elbow, latching tight and keeping me imprisoned by his side.

Together, we followed the steward. The only sounds were the slap of my flip-flops, the screams of gulls, and the gentle kiss of water on fiberglass.

This nautical world. This foreign dimension.

It’s my home now.

My hair fluttered with the wind as we traversed the pristine deck, past a spa and outdoor bar, and traded sunshine for the shade of opulent walnut and carpeted interior.

My heart thundered as Kill yanked my elbow, jerking me from my safe zone of pressing against him and into the limelight and center stage.

Tears were thick molasses in my heart, forming a ball in my throat—slowly choking me.

The dimness of the sitting room took a while to become clear after the glare of sunshine.

Kill noticed him before I did. His body hummed with aggression, tempered by civility. “Mr. Steel.”