Carnage: A Dark Revenge Romance

We’re officially Lords. The brand that burns my chest is a constant reminder that the only way out is death.

We’ve all been raised not to fear death. It’s what you do with your life that should terrify you. Once you’re dead, you’ll no longer give a fuck about anything. But being alive? That’s a rush.

I pull up to the house and park my Lamborghini Veneno in the street. Some girl attending Barrington is throwing a party at her daddy’s house. She’s entering her freshman year and wants to make a good impression. They always do, but it doesn’t matter. Daddy’s money can’t buy her everything—not in this town or in our world. Her father owns several businesses, but he’s not a Lord. Therefore, he’s a small fish in an ocean littered with sharks.

“Hey, man,” Haidyn calls out. I turn to see him getting off his blacked-out R1 parked behind me. “Where’s Kashton and Adam?” He unzips his leather jacket, but I notice he doesn’t have his helmet tonight. Instead, he’s got a baseball cap on backward.

“They’re meeting us here,” I answer, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

He nods, walking toward me. “Let’s go in and see what kind of trouble we can get into.” He throws his arm over my shoulders and laughs.

I’m only here for one reason. Surprisingly, it’s not to start trouble.

We enter the house and make our way through the throngs of people. It’s packed. With social media these days, you can fill a large house in a matter of minutes. It’s been going on for a few hours already. Empty beer cans and broken bottles are everywhere. People making out in hallways and practically fucking on whatever surface they can find.

“ARMY OF ME” by In This Moment blasts throughout the house. They’ve got the lights dimmed and strobes on, giving the illusion that I’m constantly blinking.

We head to the kitchen and each grab a drink of our own and then make our way to the back of the house. Walking outside, I take a sip of my beer when I spot her. I’ve been watching her on a fake social media account for the past few hours. That’s how I knew she was here.

She’s in the pool on some guy’s shoulders, and my hand tightens on my beer can. Her perky tits are only covered by white triangles. Her dark hair is wet and sticks to her back, neck, and shoulders. The guy grabs her hands and goes underwater. With her head barely above water, she readjusts herself on his shoulders before he pops up and tosses her across the pool.

The sound of her landing on her back makes everyone cringe before a few laugh.

Gasping for breath, she breaks the surface and pushes her hair back from her face, blinking. “Are you okay?” he asks, swimming over to her.

She nods, laughing. “Yeah.” I don’t need to see her to know she’s drunk. I’ve seen her posts tonight. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way she was misspelling words as if she was slurring her speech. I curse myself for not getting here sooner, but my father needed to talk to me. His idea of urgent differs from mine. It could have waited. Anything regarding her comes first in my world.

“You sure? That sounded like it hurt.” He goes on, grabbing her arm and pulling her into him.

I step forward, but Haidyn grabs my shirt to stop me. “Not now, man,” he mumbles under his breath so only I can hear.

Ashtyn Lane Price belongs to me. She just doesn’t know it yet. But she will, very soon. And once I make her mine, the world will know it too.

She pushes off him and goes underwater. When her head pops up again, she’s over at the stairs. It’s dark outside, but the light on the back patio illuminates the area along with the pool lights, giving us all a view as if it’s midday.

She slowly climbs them, one hand on the railing, the other pushing her hair back from her gorgeous face. Water falls off the curves of her body, and I want to lick every inch of her. The bathing suit bottom covers very little of her bubble ass, leaving nothing to the imagination. I’ve seen her naked before. I’ve watched her undress and crawl into bed from her closet when she thought she was alone.

I’ve watched her sleep and touched her face while hoping she was dreaming of me. I’m a man obsessed with a woman I haven’t been able to have. Some would call it creepy or pathetic. I call it devoted.

Walking over to a table, she picks up a pink beach towel and wrings out her long dark hair. Then she begins to dry off her legs, stomach, and chest. The little bikini she wears makes me hard and jealous. Once she’s mine, she’ll be under my arms with my name carved into her skin. And then I won’t care about her lack of clothes. I’ll show her off to anyone who wants to look at her.

But if I had my way, I’d keep her chained up in the basement until then. Right now, I can see all the guys have their eyes on her ass. Including Haidyn.

I slap his chest, and he just chuckles before sipping his beer. “We all know she’ll be yours, Saint,” he mumbles.

Wrapping the towel around her shoulders, she turns away from the table and walks toward us. Looking up from her cell in her hand, she spots us. Coming to a stop, she gives me a drunken smile before dropping her eyes to the porch. I love that she’s innocent because I can’t wait to ruin her.

“Hey, guys,” she says softly, looking up at us through her wet lashes.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Haidyn asks, his eyes dropping to her exposed chest that the towel doesn’t cover.

I don’t mind him looking. I just want to be the one that shows her off. Like right now, I want to tie her up out here for all to see and offer her to him. My terms. My way. I want to see her beg me to let him get her off. It’s sick, I know. To be so jealous of other men getting to look at her while also wanting to share her. I can only chalk it up to what love and hate feel like. Both are very powerful. I want to control what she feels and when she feels it.

“Not much. You?” She licks her lips, and my already hard cock reminds me just how bad I crave to feel them wrapped around me.

Ashtyn is five-five and currently barefoot. Haidyn and I are both over six feet tall, and we’ve got boots on. She’s got small breasts and a tiny waist with narrow hips and a nice round ass. I love her size. Most women would call me a pig for having a type, but she’s exactly what I want, and I compare every woman I see to her. Not a single one even comes close.

“Where’s your brother?” Haidyn asks.

She frowns as if not expecting him to want to know that. That, just maybe, we had wanted to see her. If she only knew why I was here. “He was inside playing beer pong with Kash last time I saw him.”

“Ash?” a girl calls out, stepping outside. She squeezes between Haidyn and me, and hands Ashtyn a drink in a red Solo cup. “Here you go.”

Ashtyn takes it and brings the rim of the cup to her lips, but I rip it from her hand and throw the cup to the patio. The alcohol splashes her feet and legs.

“Hey?” her friend shouts. “What the fuck, Saint?”

“She’s not drinking that shit. Who knows what’s in it.” You can’t trust those who attend Barrington. They’re just as dirty as anyone else but have the money to get out of trouble. Girls get drugged, raped, and killed here just like anywhere else. But the only difference is their faces don’t end up all over social media because the wealthy daddies pay for their families’ silence. It’s sad what the price for a human life is. Being a Lord has taught me that I’ll fight for my life, but a daughter of a Lord isn’t allowed that same courtesy.

Her friend rolls her eyes, but Ashtyn smiles at me. “You’re always a gentleman.”

Me? A gentleman? She has no clue that I’m going to turn her into a dirty whore who will beg to be treated like a toy.

Her plump lips softly smile and then she surprises me by leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “But you worry too much.” Pulling back, she nibbles on her bottom lip, and my eyes drop to see her nipples are hard through the thin material of her bikini. I want to rip it off and tie her up with the strings. Make her a doll that I can play with in front of everyone. “See you around, boys.” And with that, they take each other’s hands and walk into the house to get a new drink.

ASHTYN

I can feel him behind me once I enter the house. My hands grip the towel to pull it up in the process to give him a better view of my ass. I want Saint to want me. To want it.

I’ve always been one for a challenge. I was raised to be competitive. And getting the man I want is no different.

A part of me wants to drop the towel right now and see what he does. Would he remove my bathing suit or would he cover me back up?

Probably the latter. He can’t touch me. Or any other woman, for that matter right now. But soon, he’ll be given a woman to use, and I hate how much I pray it’s me. Especially considering I don’t believe in God. It’s crazy what we choose to believe is real and fake.

A God? He doesn’t exist in our world.

The devil? Absolutely.

Evil will always outshine the good because it will do whatever it takes in order to survive. The good doesn’t have what it takes. That’s why it’s considered good. It won’t cheat or deceit you. It believes that what happens is what’s meant to be. I want a man who will do whatever it takes to make what “he” wants to happen. Saint comes to mind when I think of that. What would he do if I tried to take another guy home tonight just for fun? Due to circumstances out of my control, I can’t fuck anyone, but I can pretend.

The flashing lights have me stumbling more than I already was outside as I sing along to “cult leader” by KiNG MALA.

We walk up to the island in the kitchen to get me a new drink, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch the back of Saint walking past. My shoulders slump that he didn’t stay. But I know he’s looking for my brother and Kashton.

I know exactly where they’re at. “Surprise me,” I tell the guy holding a new Solo cup in his hand.

“God, Saint is such an ass.” Whitney huffs. I know her from Barrington. We’re friends, but I wouldn’t say we’re best friends. We hang out every now and then. She understands what it’s like to be a woman growing up in the Lords world.

I smile. “I like the way he is.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please. He’s a piece of shit who thinks he rules the world.”

“You just described every Lord out there.” They’re raised to believe that. I’ve seen it firsthand with my father and how he’s raised my brother. A Lord can do no wrong. They’re rewarded for being evil. The more creative they can be, the more they are praised.

“They’re not all the same,” she argues.

I snort. “Okay.” Not believing that. She has a sister and a brother. I don’t feel sorry for Miller. He’s just another Lord who thinks he can do no wrong. But her sister? That’s a different story. Laikyn is a couple of years younger than her, and Whitney’s two years younger than me. I’m going into my senior year at Barrington, and Whitney will be a sophomore. Whitney isn’t as sheltered as her sister is, though. I feel sorry for Laikyn. She has no clue what her life will be like once she attends Barrington. My mother has never hidden my future from me.

You will belong to a Lord, and if you’re lucky, you’ll die young. She once said that to me after finishing off an entire bottle of wine one night when I found her crying at the kitchen table because my father didn’t come home for dinner. I’m always confused as to why she cares about what he’s out doing because they hate one another. They married because their families told them to. Not for love. That’s how relationships work in my world. Two families are combined for power. Marrying because you love someone is unheard of.

“Here you go.” The guy hands me my new drink, and I don’t miss the way his eyes drop to my hard nipples. I’m still wet from the pool, and it’s freezing in this house.

Thoughts of Saint have me looking around to see if he’s in the kitchen, and I’m disappointed when he’s not. He looked so fucking good. He always does. And the way he ripped my drink from my hand? Whew. Maybe I wanted to take the chance of it being laced with something? Bet he never thought of that. It’d give him a reason to take care of me. I’d do anything to be in his arms, even if that meant being unconscious and unable to remember most of it.

There are more ways than one to accomplish that. I toss it back and take a gulp, gasping at the strong taste of vodka and …blackberry? “Fu…ck,” I breathe.

The kid winks at me. “It’s an Aunt Roberta.”

As if I know what the fuck that is. I take another drink, and it throws me into a coughing fit.

Whitney slaps my back. “What the fuck did you give her?” she growls at him.

“An Aunt—”

“I heard you the first time, jackass,” she snaps. “What the hell is in it?”

“Straight alcohol,” he says in a duh voice.

It runs down my chin and onto my chest, forcing tears from my eyes. “I’m…fine.” I gasp, coughing once more. Hitting my chest, I take a deep breath, and the burn intensifies.

“Jesus, Ash, are you trying to kill yourself?” Whitney mutters.

Shaking my head, I cover my mouth with my free hand while the other still holds my drink. Whitney tries to take it from me, but I step back, gripping it tighter. “I’m fine,” I tell her. Getting under control, I quickly look around for Saint, but again, there’s no sign of him.

I’m not the type of girl who waits around for a hero. Or wants a Prince Charming. They’re the good guys—boring. I want someone who I know will fight for me. Even if they have to cheat to win. And that’s exactly what a Lord is raised to do—fight. It’s in their blood. All they know.

I take a sip this time and smile at the kid staring at me expectantly. I nod. “Good. Thanks.” Then I turn and head toward the stairs as Whitney hollers at me. I ignore her, pretending that the music is too loud to hear her. She doesn’t understand what I want or need. Just like me, her future is already set in motion. We can’t stop it, so we might as well make the best of what we have now.

School starts in a couple of days, and I have three weeks before I become someone’s bitch. I hate to think that I might not be Saint’s chosen.

A chosen is given to a Lord. She is his reward for going three years without pussy. She will serve him sexually no matter how depraved his fantasies might be for his senior year. But no one knows just how dirty my thoughts are. How much I crave for him to use me. In our world, we’re brought up to be needed. Most won’t understand it, and that’s okay. But no matter what a Lord says or does, he needs a woman. Those three years of initiation are like you pulling a rubber band taut and holding it. Once you let it go, it’s going to fly. Telling a man he can’t have sex for those three years and then giving him someone to use is just like that rubber band.

Making my way upstairs, I suck down a few more drinks. Each one is so strong that it makes me think I’m going to vomit, but I manage to keep them down. I enter the room and am thankful there’s no strobe light in here. Just dimly lit with blue lights that trim the walls and along the baseboards. Men and women sit around drinking, and smoke fills the large space from those getting high.

I spot Saint immediately over by the pool table. His back is to me. I drop the towel and toss it to a kid sitting in a chair. Haidyn sees me first, and he chokes on his beer. I’ve grown up around all the Spade brothers because of my brother. I’ve spent many summers and vacations with them because our dads are close friends. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about all three of them in my bed with me. But Saint is the one I think of the most. In my dreams, he’s the one who ties me up and lets his friends have their way with me.

Haidyn slaps Saint’s shoulder, who turns around to see what he’s staring at. His green eyes drop to my legs and slowly run up over my body. Goose bumps cover my skin, making me shiver, and my nipples harden. When his eyes meet mine, his already sharp jaw ticks, and I can’t help but smile.

I take another gulp of my drink, and he rushes over. Grabbing my free hand, he yanks me from the room. I giggle when he pulls me into another one across the hall. It’s just the two of us.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“Jesus, Ash. You can’t walk around in just your bathing suit,” he growls. “Where are your clothes?”

“It’s a pool party,” I counter, sucking down more of my drink. I want it empty and barely able to stand. The thought of falling into him sounds like a good time.

He crosses his arms over his chest, and I begin to drool at the way he glares at me. Heat rushes up my spine, and butterflies fill my stomach. I want to feel his hand wrapped around my neck, choking me. I want him to make me beg to breathe while my legs are wrapped around his waist.

I take another drink.

“Where did you get that one?” he demands.

I take another; it’s almost gone at this point, and it doesn’t burn as much, but I still feel that I might vomit. If not now, it’ll happen later for sure. “Found it on the counter…”

“Fucking hell.” He takes it from my hand and sets it on the dresser to his right.

I start laughing, and his eyes narrow on mine. “Last time I’m going to tell you…put some fucking clothes on.” His voice wasn’t as commanding that time, and his eyes are now on my chest.

I like that he thinks he can control me. My already wobbly legs step forward, pushing my body into him, and he stiffens. “Want me to take off my bathing suit?” I arch a brow. “Maybe you can help me.” I turn, giving him my back, and I hold my wet hair for him to untie it.

“Ashtyn.” His low and threatening tone makes me shiver.

“What?” I ask, looking at him over my shoulder. “I didn’t bring anything else to wear.”

He runs a hand down his face, letting out an annoyed breath, and the sight of his Lords ring makes my heart race. It’s their crest—a circle with three horizontal lines through the middle. It’s a reminder of how much power they hold. Every Lord wears them while attending the university. No one outside of the society knows what it means, but I do, and I wish I could explain how much it turns me on. “Find something else to wear, or I’m taking you home.”

I smile, turning back to face him. The alcohol that I’ve consumed tonight makes me more daring than I’ve ever been before. I go to lean into him and stand on my tiptoes, but he stops me when his hand reaches out and wraps around my throat.

A moan escapes my lips when they fall open.

He yanks my face so close to his I bet he can smell the liquor on my breath. His pretty green eyes glare into mine, and I imagine us both naked, him underneath me as he fucks me on the floor, bent over the dresser, or on the bed. My pussy clenches at the different positions he could force me into. “Put some fucking clothes on. Now.”

I manage to smile, but I’m sure it’s lopsided. My lips have gone numb. “What if I don’t want to?”

His eyes slide to the dresser to look at the drink mostly gone, and then back at me. “What’s in that?”

“Not sure.” I shrug, my hands coming up to wrap around his waist. My hands dig into the fabric of his shirt, feeling his muscles, and my eyes grow heavy.

“Goddammit, Ash,” he grinds out.

I lick my lips, tasting the lingering alcohol. “Going to babysit me, Saint? Make sure no one takes advantage of me?” I arch my brow.

He lets out a deep breath, his green eyes dropping to my lips.

“Unless…”

“Unless what?” he asks, his voice now rough. I push my hips into him, feeling how hard he is. My knees threaten to buckle. I crave him so much that it hurts. His fingers are still around my neck, and I wish he’d just squeeze a little harder. Force me to my knees, and I’d open my mouth for him to use.

“You…want to take advantage of me?” I whisper.

The door opens, and he doesn’t release me, but he looks over my head at whoever just entered the room. “Am I interrupting something?” Haidyn asks.

“No,” Saint snaps as my shoulders slump. If only.

Haidyn speaks, “We gotta go.”

“I agree.” Saint releases me, and I take in a shaky breath as he grabs my hand. “I’m taking you home.”

I roll my eyes, but he yanks me from the room, down the hallway, and out the front door. I don’t even get the chance to tell Whitney goodbye. I’ll message her tomorrow.

My brother stands outside next to Kashton, waiting for Haidyn and Saint. He spots me, and his jaw sharpens. “What the fuck, Saint?” he barks. “She’s not going with us to the house of Lords.”

“She’s not,” Saint agrees, opening his passenger car door for me. He shoves me into the car. “I’m dropping her off at your parents’ and will meet you guys there.” With that, he slams the door shut, and I cross my arms over my chest, letting out a huff. But the smell that fills his car makes my thighs tighten. Fuck, I’ve wanted him so long that I’ve imagined him fucking me a thousand ways. And each one ends up with me on my knees begging for more.

I watch him open the trunk at the front of the car and remove something from it. Moments later, I see what it is when he opens his door.

A hoodie. “Put that on,” he orders, tossing it into my lap.

“I want to go to my place,” I inform him when he drops into the driver’s side, ignoring the hoodie.

“Your parents are closer to where I’m headed,” he states, pulling away from the curb.

“My car is here.” I go on. “I drove.”

He gives me a quick look, his eyes going to the hoodie before placing his green eyes back on the road. “I’ll drop it off later.”

Huffing, I lean my wet hair back against his seat, knowing it’ll piss him off even more. The air conditioner is on full blast, and my nipples are hard. I’m no longer soaking wet but definitely not dry and very drunk. A part of me wants to reach over and unzip his jeans. But he’ll just push me away. I’m sure as fuck not putting the hoodie on, though. I’d rather freeze to death first. If he wants me to wear it, he can dress me.

My heavy eyes close as “This Is Gonna Hurt” by Sixx:A.M. fills the confined space inside of his car.