Arran’s Obsession (Body Count, #1)

It was an hour before Arran returned, his previous calm restored. “Get dressed. I’ll take you to meet my family.”

I curled my knees underneath me. “Suddenly you trust me?”

“Not for a second, but something happened that forced my hand.” He crossed to a chair and collected a pile of clothes from the seat.

I blinked at it. “That was there all along? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Perhaps I prefer you sitting around naked.”

He left me to get dressed, and I pulled on the shorts that must’ve come from one of the women who lived here and a t-shirt that was a little too big and needed tying into a knot at my waist. I took a minute in the bathroom to comb out my hair and brush my teeth using supplies from a visitor’s pack. There was no kind of hair product or tie, which was a pity because my shower yesterday had left my hair an unfortunate frizzy mess.

Not the best first impression, then again I’d showed up last night in just a man’s t-shirt and spattered with blood.

It spoke volumes that his friends hadn’t been fazed.

Outside the bedroom, Arran waited in the living room. The house was clearly centuries old, but the furniture more modern, like someone had redecorated recently and gone with what they preferred over the style of the house. I liked it. I also liked the image of the powerful man on a cream couch, taking up all the space.

His gaze settled on me. Desire curled in my belly once again. My need for him was getting stronger, no matter my intention to deny it.

Out in the wide hallway, with a marble floor and oil paintings here and there, we walked together. Last night, I’d barely noticed the detail. Now, I soaked it all in.

“What do you mean that something forced your hand?” I asked.

“You’ll see.”

Infuriating man. “How do you know the people who live here?” I tried. “Last night you called them your friends. Then earlier you said family.”

“Found family, not blood. I don’t have any family by DNA left.”

“What happened to your parents?”

He shot me a look. “What happened to your mother?”

I shut my mouth. Point taken—we weren’t friends. I didn’t need to know his emotional baggage, and there was no reason to trust him with mine. Even if his check on me was tantamount to snooping.

Changing the subject, I moved on to the next question on my list. “One thing I don’t get about last night and the game. How did you know I was in there?”

We took a corner, the echoing entranceway ahead. Thankfully empty. For some reason, nerves flew as butterflies in my belly.

“The real Natasha showed up, and the doorman called me. I was offsite, but I checked the cameras and saw you.”

I pieced over that. He hadn’t been watching, then. “Why did you come for me? Why not just leave me to the fight?”

“I was already planning to find you. There was something I needed you for.”

“Beyond warming your bed?”

He gave a short laugh. “Is that what you’re doing?”

If he’d wanted me for something, it had to be regarding Cherry, then. I joined the dots, some strange disappointment forming that it wasn’t because he’d liked me and knew I shouldn’t have been in there.

But the version of Arran I’d crushed on for a whole minute had nothing in common with the reality of him.

The doors to the entranceway ahead opened with a crash, and a petite woman appeared. She swung her gaze around and sighted us. “Holy shite, Arran. Summer said ye were back.”

She sprinted and leapt for him, enclosing him in a full-body hug, her hair a wealth of wild black curls, and her features exquisite with her perfect little upturned nose and pouty red lips. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Young, too. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen.

Arran absorbed the hit with a smile. He banded his arms around her. “Hey, Cass.”

They fitted together so easily.

Pure and uncomfortable envy made its presence known in my heart.

Beaming, the woman hopped down, turning her attention to me. “Oh my God. Not only is Arran home but he brings a girl. That boy is an ignorant pig man for staying away for so long.” She swept a look up and down me with unhidden interest, her rolling Scottish accent so pretty. “Whereas ye, my new friend, are a sight for sore eyes. Welcome to our home.”

The way she spoke to him was the same as I did to Riordan. My jealousy simmered.

“Did ye do that to his face?” She jacked a thumb at Arran.

He chuffed a laugh. “She wishes. It’s courtesy of your brother.”

“Did your dumb arse just stand there, close your eyes, and let Jamieson hit ye?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much. Also entertaining that you knew it was him and not Camden.”

She laughed then grinned at me, her curls bouncing with her movement. “Aren’t men idiots? What’s your name?”

“Genevieve.”

“I’m Cassiopeia. Cassie for short. We both got hit with the fancy name stick.”

“Your mother was a wild child, too, then?”

Her smile dimmed. “I wouldn’t know.”

A buzz sounded. Arran collected his phone from his pocket and scowled at the screen. “It’s Shade. Cassie, can you take Genevieve to introduce her to the family? I need to talk to my crew. Explain what happened. None of them know where I am.”

I chewed my lip. They would’ve seen him arrive at the warehouse, fast, judging on his parking when we’d come outside, then raid his game and speed off with one of the contestants. “Did I cause trouble?”

“In all areas of my life? Yes.”

Cassie looked between us then slowly backed away. “I’ll just grab my bag from the car. Be right back.”

Alone with Arran, I folded my arms. “Can’t you just say you decided to enter because you felt the animalistic need to claim me?”

“You forget, nobody from my team, including myself, can be involved. I’m going to badge it as a misunderstanding. The woman I’d been seeing accidentally put herself into the competition assuming I’d be participating. Spotting you on the cameras, I realised what happened and had to save you, losing my head once I was in there. With any luck, outsiders will accept the sentiment. It goes with the vibe. The possessive need. My crew is another matter.”

I twisted a toe on the marble, an unpleasant memory rising. “What about your gang buddy who was in there?”

“No one from my crew enters the basement while the game is in play. Aside from me this time.”

“That isn’t true. One of the men from your office was hunting me. I recognised him.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“I’m not. He wore a mask like everyone else and had black face paint across his eyes, but he’d also tried to paint out a tattoo on his wrist. It was a snake wrapped around his arm. The paint must’ve got smudged because the snake’s head was there as clear as day, right above his wrist. I also recognised the way he held his head at an angle. He was taunting me, calling me ‘little rabbit’, and trying to get me to run.”

Arran’s focus hardened, no hint of humour to him now. “You’re certain of what you saw,” he stated more than asked.

“Entirely. I’ve no reason to make it up.”

“I believe you.” He yelled to the front door, “Cassie?”

I’d known him a matter of days but I was starting to pick up telltale signs of the man. He was stubborn, yet I’d just provided the evidence to counter a fact he believed, and he accepted me. Simple as that.

I tucked that information away for later use. He hadn’t believed my side of events on why I was in the basement, but taking emotion out of it, I’d make another attempt.

Cassie skipped back inside, clutching a small suitcase. Arran went to her and murmured in her ear.

Then he looked at me. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Two hours or under,” I remarked.

He strode away, not smiling at my quip.

I watched him go then turned to his friend. “Did he tell you not to trust me?”

She had no reason to answer, but her face lit. “Something like that. Don’t leave her alone,” she put on a deeper voice and an English accent, then linked her arm through mine and directed me up the stairs.

“Arran’s keeping me prisoner here,” I blurted.

“Ooh, what did ye do?”

“Nothing!”

“Feels unlikely, but go with that if it’s working for ye. Or maybe it’s him. All the men around here are a bit cray-cray. Jamieson chases Summer through the woods sometimes.”

“That’s awful.” I kept pace with her on the stairs.

“Uh, no. It’s a mutual thing. Not every couple is polite conversation and a sensible car. In case it needs stating, don’t try to make a run for it. I might be small but I can crack a skull without breaking a nail.” She waggled her head. “We have sensors and cameras around the grounds, too. You won’t get far. Now come meet everyone.”

Getting her alongside as an ally was a losing battle. This woman was as nuts as Arran. “How many of you live here?”

We reached the upstairs landing. Family pictures lined the walls, the frames not matching and the spacing unequal, but it added to the effect of the place being a home and not a museum.

Cassie drew my attention to a huge picture with a group of people in it. Rapid-fire, she pointed at faces and gave a name to each. “A whole load, but half of us aren’t here. This is my oldest brother, Struan, and his wife, Thea, with their two kids. Thea’s a social worker. She got pregnant while doing her degree, so Struan did a lot of the childcare, mostly which involved being outdoors. Their son, Wulf, is just like him. A wild boy. They have a daughter, too, named Selene. That’s her at the front. She’s a perfect angel. Next to them are Sin and Lottie. I call them my parents, though Sin’s also my brother. All four of the men are.”

A surprised laugh flew from my lips. “I have one brother. He’s a pain in the ass. I can’t imagine having four.”

Cassie blew out a breath. “Ye get me then. The overprotective gene is no joke. Now, Lottie’s birthed four babies, so far. I don’t think she’s done. Conall is the oldest of all the tribe. He’s ten and ridiculously tall for his age. Then there’s Llyr and Daphne, their girls, and Magnus was last. Lottie took a baby break to study for a couple of years, but she’s just finished, and I bet there will be a new bairn soon.”

My mind spun with all the names.

My tiny replacement captor wasn’t done. “Everyone I’ve mentioned so far is away. Struan’s mother got married this summer, and we all went to the wedding, then half of us stayed on and half returned. I jumped in my car the minute I heard Arran was here.” She made jazz hands. “No kids, much more agile.”

The rest she named quickly. The other two brothers were Camden and Jamieson. Camden’s wife was Breeze, and they had a girl called Wren and a younger boy called Raven. Jamieson’s wife was Summer, and they had Ember, Blaze, and Seraphina.

At the last grouping, Cassie grinned. “The youngest of my brothers has a not-so minor obsession with fire, hence the names of his children. He burned half of this place down, once.”

“He did what?”

“Oh, it was needed. Our father, who luckily for everyone is dead now, did terrible things in this house. Fire is cleansing, no?”

She continued along the brightly lit hall, the sounds of family life filtering from further down the corridor. Overwhelmed, I followed more slowly and trailed my gaze over the rest of the pictures. Arran was in one, a much younger version with his arm slung around one of Cassie’s brothers. His hair was shorter, almost military-level neat. He had it longer now, the strands in his eyes when he wore his mask.

The photograph below his caught my attention.

A toddler posed in rainbow dungarees, with scruffy fair hair and the biggest smile stretching chubby cheeks.

“Who’s this?” I asked.

The answer was at the edge of my mind, but I couldn’t quite reach it. I recognised the youngster, but from where?

Cassie trotted back. “Interesting that you picked that. That’s someone Arran’s trying to find. I’ve always called him the lost boy, though we don’t actually know if it’s a boy or a girl, and it’s the only picture he’s ever seen. He’s been hunting for that child for ten years, hence the duplicate picture in his office that he shows everyone. Arran’s mother…” She stopped her mouth. “I need to shut the hell up. Arran can tell you his story himself.”

“How does he know the missing child?” I asked.

She wrinkled her nose, clearly not about to talk. “Ask him.”

I hurried on. “I’m sure he won’t mind you telling me.”

Her perfect, arched eyebrows shot up. “Thought ye were a prisoner? Doesn’t sound like he’s ready to trust ye.”

I sighed, losing the will to fight for this. I didn’t care if he was looking for that child. They were undoubtedly better off without him. “Whatever. I’m not his girlfriend. I don’t trust him either.”

“Why not? He’s the best.”

I stared at her. “He runs a strip club and a brothel. He earns his money by hurting women.”

Cassie’s cheeks reddened. “How can you say that? Do you even know him at all?”

“Not really, and neither do his friends by the sounds of it.” I wasn’t going to lie to protect him.

“Wrong. We know everything about what he does and why. We’ve even helped. All the shite you’re assuming is wrong,” she retorted.

My blood heated. “Is it? How? Arran runs women. He deals them out by the hour and lives off the profits of them opening their legs for any paying customer. It’s not him on his back doing the work. He’s exploiting vulnerable humans for money. In my world, that makes him a pimp. Not even in a good suit.”

Down the hall, a door opened, and the woman who’d been on the steps last night popped her head out. “Thought I heard voices. Are you coming in?”

Cassie held up a pausing finger to her then turned back, those pretty features twisted in hurt. “In my world, it makes him their protector, and ye have no idea how important he is.” She took a step, pint-sized but menacing. “You’re wrong that he owns them. They own themselves. You’re wrong that he lives off their income. Any cut he takes is only to pay for the warehouse where they work in safety. It also pays for housing, therapy, outreach, and the bribe he pays the police. And that judgement you’re laying at the women’s doors can fuck right off, too. My mother was a sex worker. Same for my brothers’. How’s the view from that high horse now?”

I breathed through my nose, unwilling to believe her but at the same time seeing no reason for her to lie.

“Yeah, right. He’s so noble. You’re delusional,” I finished. But it was weak.

“And you’re not good enough for him, so I’m glad you’re not dating. I’ll have Summer take ye back to your room.” Cassie shot me one final look of disgust then strode away, her heels stabbing the floor in hard clicks.

Good enough for him? I didn’t even want him. And he definitely didn’t want me. Except for the fact of the chemistry between us, I could almost have believed myself.