Bringing The Fight

5.

* Coralee *

The last thing I want to confess to two gorgeous men is that I’m a virgin. I can’t even meet Jax’s intense gaze, hoping he’ll continue to kiss me and not treat me like a broken doll when he hears the rest.

The alcohol hits fast and hard. The news of how deep Braden’s deception runs confuses my already muddled brain. It’s a lot to process. My father’s alive! Does he think about me? Did he ever love me? Why has he never contacted me?

Patrick Conry is in the mob. I had heard his name a few times in my old neighborhood, but my parents always acted as if the random visits from his men were normal. Ha! Guess they were if they received cash for lying to me! I’m stunned by the fact Wylan claimed they might have conspired to marry me off to a stranger. Does that kind of thing still happen? Was that why Braden coveted my hymen? Although, he had no problems r****g my body in other ways.

Braden sat on the bed with a strange object in one hand, the other holding a bottle, "I know sometimes I scare you, princess. I won’t apologize, because I get off on controlling you. Having said that, I will prepare you to take me anally."

I let out a disgusted grunt.

He caressed the top of my head, gliding the hooked shaped silicone over the ball-gag, "Shh... I swear I'll be gentle. See this?" he held up the bottle, "It's lube. Plus, this anal plug is the smallest to start out with. I have no plans to f**k your tight ass tonight, so stop squirming. We'll just leave it in for a while. I bet it will make your sweet little p***y so wet you'll beg me to lick it all up," he smirked, running the s*x toy over my lower spine, "You would if able to speak, I mean. You look so beautiful tied up like this. Now, dry those tears and maybe I’ll let you come later."

When he straddled my bound form, I panicked, yanking on the ties. I hated it when he made me lay face-down, never knowing what he’d do to me. I couldn't see, but I felt the cool liquid sliding down my ass-crack. He lived for my misery, even though he constantly told me to quit crying.

It hurt. My stretched hole was on fire. He chuckled, kissing my shoulder, pressing the object deep inside of me. I screamed around the gag, choking on my spit. He laughed when I could do nothing but groan and whimper.

"I love you, Cora. My special princess. You make me so damn happy when you submit. You're a lucky girl."

He plunged the slick toy in and out until pleasure built, and I wriggled like a worm on a hook. The unfamiliar, but erotic sensations sent me flying when he played with my c**t. My self-loathing grew each time I reached orgasm. Braden’s actions should sicken me, but my body threw out the memo. I writhed below him. His dark, lust-filled tone in my ear, swearing he loved me.

Braden would do this for the next few nights until strapping me to a Saint Andrews cross, defiling me in front of Enzo for the first, but not the last time.

"Coralee," Jax’s deep voice once again brings me out of my stupor, "Er, you mentioned Braden let Enzo watch?"

Didn't he believe me? My face flushes with embarrassment and the burn of alcohol, "Do I need to say it, Jax?"

His jaw ticks, "He sodomized you?"

I peer into my empty glass, nodding, "Braden kept my virginity intact, saving it for marriage. Every day he would remind me how lucky I was, but it always made me confused... considering how he treated me."

Wylan snags his beer, saying softly, "I'm sorry he did those awful things to you. He's disappeared, by the way. No one has heard anything from him in eight months."

I stare at Wylan. He’s a good-looking man. He doesn’t seem much older than me, but he has to be from how he handles himself. His striking blue eyes hold mine, "I escaped. He brought me to a new location when he caught me, instead of our place in the city, but I fought my way out. I wonder if he was hiding?"

"Possibly," he frowns in contemplation, "Enzo hasn’t altered his routines, and when I checked his phone records, noticed nothing unusual. How did Braden find you?"

I shift in my chair, avoiding Jax’s perceptive stare, "Braden loves me. In his delusional mind, he believed it when I swore I did too. He allowed me to visit a spa a few times a month with one of his thugs. Braden liked me plucked clean, sparing no expense for how I presented myself. After I turned eighteen, everything changed. He gave me my license back. For over a year he held me under house arrest, only to allow me freedom. Well, with a trusted goon along for the ride. It was weird — but liberating."

"You never sought help?" Wylan’s tones wary, like I’m withholding vital information, so I force myself to relive a terrible night my psyche has shoved away for years.

“Give me some credit,” I snap, and his head jerked down in contrition, “One day I ran from the spa while his man was in the bathroom. I wore several expensive pieces of jewelry to pawn for money. I came out of a shop an hour later to find Braden standing outside with a s**t-eating grin. The pawnbroker refused to help me."

"He had already tagged you," Jax growls, and I sadly nod, “He played with you. Wanted to see what you’d do.”

I loath rehashing my past, but they need to know how crafty and twisted Braden is. I’ve spent years putting up with his sadistic games.

"Yes," My throat tight with restrained sadness, "He dragged me home and tore off my clothes. Forced me to sit naked in front of his friends all night. They pinched and slapped me until I bled. I did not understand how he had found me because I’d taken the bus across the city. Later that evening, he set up a circle of mirrors, making me feel myself up until I noticed anything different."

It took me months to recover from my first real escape attempt. I broke out into a cold sweat whenever I left the house, the ghostly sensation of the foreign object between my shoulders a terrifying reminder Braden would never let me go. Nightmares and panic attacks also plagued me, which he mocked, but at night I slept on the floor. A welcome reprieve from his perverse needs.

“He placed the marker in a tough spot to remove!” Jax’s pissed off rumble has me flinching and he lowers his voice, “But you did. You’re so brave.”

I preen under his praise but still couldn’t meet his tender gaze. He makes me sound badass, but I haven’t even begun to explain my sordid and complicated history with Braden. Jax is determined to confront him, but I never want to lay eyes on that monster again.

"Sick f**k," Wylan mutters, "You deserve revenge. I'll help Jax locate Braden and then we can go from there. No one stays hidden forever — not even you, honey."

I wince at the truth, “No crap. That’s the reason I keep moving. I should leave Perla in a few weeks as it is.”

"No," Jax stands up, looking affronted, "We already discussed this Coralee."

Wylan glances at us both in amusement, although I find none of this funny, "Whoa man, it's her life."

He glares at his friend, then points a thick finger in my direction, "No more running."

Alcohol burns through my veins when I jump up, pointing back at his frustrated face, "If Braden’s missing then he's on the hunt. He's obsessed. He'll kill you both."

Wylan snorts, shuffling to his feet as well while gathering the folders and pictures into a neat pile, "We'll look through the rest later. Cora, nobody is getting past us."

I huff and hold on to the edge of the table, "What makes you so sure?"

Jax licks his sexy lips, "I'll show you. Come here."

Show and tell? Like what he’s packing in those tight jeans? Gah, I’m drunk! I take a deep breath and ignore how horny I become when he shifts those magnetic orbs my way. His eyes rake up and down my flushed body as if sensing where my thoughts went. The ticking of his jaw muscles an obvious sign he’s still infuriated. Even though he’s angry, it’s not aimed at me. When we discuss Braden, he gets this murderous expression on his handsome face. I can relate.

I follow him to the area beside the front door, Wylan trailing behind. Jax takes out his cell phone but also pushes a hand against the dark paneling by the cute tree/coat rack. I’m surprised when a concealed compartment slides open, revealing a complicated smart screen. Suddenly the walls shutter and metal slatted plates descend, shielding every single windowpane of the cabin. I yelp, making the men chuckle. I slap Jax’s arm for not preparing me.

"The windows are bulletproof," he informs me, "There's also a panic room in my office."

"Wow," I’m stunned by the display, "Are you one of those preppers?"

Jax hits a few buttons on the screen and the house returns to its original state, "No. Who's hungry?"

"Really?" I place my hands on my hips, "Who has a home that turns into a tank unless they're expecting a war?"

He leans close to my face, and my skin prickles. Even when he’s insufferable and grumpy, my hormones explode at his nearness, "I do."

Fighting a smile, I tease, "I should have guessed you boss around inanimate objects. How silly of me to forget your caveman reasoning."

Jax barks out a laugh, peering down at me with his insane flint colored eyes, licking his lips like he wants to kiss me, but Wylan’s laughing deters him. He winks instead, strutting away after showing off his security system. I turn in time to catch Wylan looking at me with a contemplative frown.

"What?" I bristle at the weird way he’s studying me, “If Braden doesn’t sneak inside before the alarm sounds, it’ll work.”

He shakes his head, gazing over his shoulder to track Jax, “Sure will, honey.”

Honey? I ignore Wylan and follow Jax into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Wylan silently observes as we make a meal of baked potato, salad, and ribs I stuck in the oven earlier.

"I drank too fast," I admit when we sit down to eat, "I'm such a lightweight now."

"Stress amplifies it," Jax comments like it’s no biggie I turned bratty and nearly jumped his bones.

"How old are you, Wylan?" I ask to take the attention off my embarrassment.

Wylan pokes his salad as if it’ll grow legs and devour him, "Twenty-four. Your birthday is next month, right?"

I nod, realizing they know more about me than I will probably learn about them, "The big two-one," I chew a piece of meat before asking another question, “Should I tell the Conry’s I'm alive?"

Jax slams his fork on the plate and I jump in surprise, "What if they don’t care? Let’s not forget Braden paraded you around their city. Even if he hadn't, people must have recognized your name. Invited men to witness your humiliation."

I’m not hungry anymore, realizing Jax has a very sick point. Sometimes the guys Braden hired would look uncomfortable when he punished me but did nothing. Had they known I was Patrick Conry’s daughter? Did my father not give a crap if I lived or died after my foster parents perished in the fire?

Wylan’s not affected by Jax’s outburst saying, "I speculated at first the reason they killed the Winters was to gain leverage. Maybe Paddy sold you."

"Paddy?" I clutch my stomach, feeling queasy.

"His nickname," Wylan shrugs, "Tucker City is a mess. I couldn't hit the streets like I normally would to discover information about you, Cora."

"Why not?" I pick up my water glass, hoping to calm my belly.

"No telling if someone would run to Braden or Enzo and tail me right to you and Jax."

"Coralee," Jax’s deep voice calls, and I take in his concerned expression, "Let's just enjoy our evening, and leave the rest until the morning. Wylan will stick around for a while and together we'll find Braden, okay?"

His reassuring tone and smile soothe my nerves. I exhale, figuring he’s right. It’s a lot to absorb and there’s no rush. We finish dinner, changing the subject to less doom and gloom topics. I listened but didn’t contribute.

They never answered my question if I should reach out to my family, and I was too cowardly to try on my own. Not this week, at least. I don’t need permission, only asking out of curiosity and to learn what to expect from them. Hopefully in the next few days, Wylan would divulge the name of relatives involved in the seeder side of the syndicate and who I may trust with the knowledge Braden held me against my will all those years. I’m certain they won’t be pleased, and perhaps they might punish him so I wouldn’t have to see his smug face.

If I had learned anything under Braden’s merciless care, it was — The word procrastination did not exist if I took action tomorrow. I still had a fighting chance because I hadn’t thrown in the towel and laid down to die.

And now I have Jax. This sweet, overprotective man would make sure I didn’t fall into the hands of my psycho ex, and it warmed my heart. Wylan seems protective as well. But I relied on myself this long without my hand being held, and time would tell how far these men would entrust me to handle my business.

This is my life.

I made a deal with the devil, and soon I’d have to confront my past.

And I will, when the perfect timing presents itself.

In the meantime, I’ll soak up whatever information I can and enjoy Jax and Wylan’s company. Their intentions aren’t malicious and although I have trust issues, lower my walls for their friendship.