Rebellion of a Kingdom by G.N. Wright
Chapter 6
LINCOLN
Ihaven’t felt this out of control in years. Not since I was a child. Not since I watched my father murder my mother. It wasn't the first time I saw him kill somebody, but it was the first time he killed somebody I cared about. Something in me snapped that day, broke, and it hasn’t been the same since.
Now the girl I swore I would protect with my life is gone and I have no idea how to get her back. Well, that's a lie, I have plenty of ideas, but none with enough merit to implement. I trail behind Asher as he limps from Zack’s office, he’s a mess and there’s nothing I can do to help him, either. All I know is that I want to.
Max told us to rest, clearly, he doesn’t know me very well. I couldn’t rest even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. All I want to do is get myself alone in a room with Elliot and Greg Donovan. Dragging out every second as I show them all the skills my daddy taught me. I’m looked upon as the quiet one, the one you don’t need to worry about. What they don’t realize is that’s exactly how I like it. I was forged in the shadows and it's in those shadows that I hunt and kill.
I watch as he staggers to the kitchen, grabs a bottle of vodka, some towels and a first aid kit before he slips away. I continue to trail after him until I find him in the guest room on the ground floor attempting to open the pack with one hand. I watch him as he seethes in pain, taking heavy breaths as he fights against it. Has anyone other than Elle ever been there for him? Has anyone ever just looked after him, offered him more than the fucking darkness that surrounds him? Elle would die for him without question, but his demons run deep. Even her unconditional love doesn’t change who he is inside.
The dark prince of the Donovan name.
I stalk inside, breaking the silence. “Let me.” I attempt to take the supplies from his hand, but he snatches them back.
“I don’t need your fucking help, Blackwell,” he spits at me while taking a step back, and I don’t miss the grimace on his face in the effort it takes for him to do so. I know his anger isn’t directed at me, not really.
I grip the wrist holding the first aid kit making him hiss in pain. He doesn’t relent though, locking those dark, stormy eyes with mine. “You wanna fight me, Donovan? Then do it. You wanna hit me, then hit me. I’m not fucking going anywhere and believe me when I say that I can take it.” He stares at me intensely until he sees I’m not going to give in.
He snatches his wrist back. “Fine.”
I take the kit from him and start laying it out on the bed as he opens the bottle and takes two big gulps. I try not to watch his throat swallow them down, but I can’t help it. Asher Donovan is a fucking masterpiece made to be looked at, explored, fucking worshipped. I can’t help but admire him. He must be in agony. He took on four guys and came out on top, his daughter has been kidnapped and somehow, he is still fucking standing. He was brought up by a sadistic father and yet he has honor like no other. I won’t let the darkness overtake him and win.
“First, take a shower, then I’ll get you patched up.” I nod to the bathroom behind him before adding, “I’ll get you some clothes for when you’re done.”
I don't give him a chance to respond before I stalk out, leaving him there. I make my way back to the main living area. Max’s guys are sitting around the island as Helen passes out drinks to them. She looks distraught but is still doing what she does best and taking care of everyone else. I can’t see Max or Elle so they must still be talking, and my brothers are nowhere to be found. I head to my room and grab some gray sweatpants and a pullover for Asher to wear, we are about the same size so they should fit okay.
I’m heading back down to the guest room when I bump into Logan. “Shit, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” His voice is flat and nothing like the flirty tone I have become accustomed to. I can’t even imagine what he is going through. His brother might die, his niece has been taken, and he's waiting for his twin to get here before she can be used for collateral too. What a fucking shit show this is turning out to be.
“You alright?” I ask even though I know the answer.
He looks up at me and I can see every single one of his fears right there on his face, but he doesn’t speak, just shrugs. What good will words do at this point? We have been putting everything on the line for Cassie and Elle and we failed. I failed. How could I let this happen? I know better than this. I am better than this. I’m the one who sees everything, knows everything, and doesn’t let anything slip past our fucking defenses. Yet Greg not only slipped past, but he also waved a fucking red flag while doing it. How? I’ve been keeping so many tabs on him, watching his every move, and dissecting his every bit of communication, so how the fuck did I miss this?
I should have fucking known when I saw him at the ball. Should have planted a bullet in his skull the second I placed my gun against his temple. Clean up would have been a fucking nightmare, but at least we would still have Cassie. Without her, I fear this thing we are creating here is all going to fall apart. This house is the only place that has ever felt like a home to me, yet now it's cold and tainted in blood. A family made by choice, now ripped apart at its center. I can’t bear the look on Logan's face, the pain, the fear, it guts me to see it. Not just on his, but on all of their faces, Asher, Elle, Helen, Arthur. All of them barely holding it together.
Five months ago, I didn’t know any of them, it was just me and my brothers. Now I would lay my life down for every single one of them. Die, if only to save that young girl. If that isn’t true family then I don’t know what is. It’s not like I’ve ever had one. Not since my mother.
I take a deep breath and nudge him. “Come on, I could use your help patching Asher up.” He needs the distraction and I need the help, he has more medical knowledge than I do.
He hesitates, thinking about my words before he nods and turns to follow me. “Yeah sure, okay.”
We enter the room together but find it's now empty and I panic. Fuck. I should have known he’d leave, he’s the loosest fucking canon here. “Donovan,” I yell with a little bit too much force to be casual.
“Yeah?” He stalks from the bathroom in just a towel, and I falter. My gaze falls to the large angel tattoo on his chest that is still glistening with water from his shower.
“I erm…” I can’t speak as I take in the dark coating of bruises across his ribs and the cuts to his face. None of it diminishes his attractiveness, but it does remind me that tonight could have been even worse. What would have happened if those guys got the better of him? We could have lost him as well. That thought churns my gut, harder than it should.
“Fucking hell Donovan now isn’t the time to seduce us,” Logan teases, but his voice doesn’t hold the same hint of humor and sexual tension that it usually does. He’s trying to pretend everything is fine, we all are. Asher barely glares at him and doesn’t even bother to roll his eyes, nothing like his usual reaction. I know Logan is just trying to focus on anything other than what's happening and distract us, but it’s not working.
He walks towards me gesturing to the clothes in my hand and when I still don’t say anything, he asks, “Are those for me?”
“Yeah sorry.” I hand them over to him and he nods in thanks before heading back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
“Is now an appropriate time to jerk each other off over what we just saw?” Logan asks, staring after Ash. I huff a small laugh which is all I can manage then cock my brow at him. “What?” he muses. “Don’t act like you weren’t thinking about bending him the fuck over, because I certainly was.” He swipes his hands down his face and I can see that despite the attempt at flirting, he is breaking.
I clear my throat, ignoring the image he just painted in my head. “I think we can both agree that now isn’t the time for that.” I didn’t wanna add that I don’t think it would ever be the time for that. Logan might be down for the guys, but Asher seems uninterested in any human being, let alone have a specific taste in gender. “Let’s just get these supplies sorted so we can sort Ash out and then make a plan.”
“Thought Max was making the plans.” He frowns rifling through the first aid supplies on the bed, and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“You really think I’m gonna leave the fate of Cassie's life in the hands of some fucking stranger who only just showed up?” I thought he was getting to know me a little, but clearly, I was wrong.
“Max isn’t a stranger; we have known him for years.” He tries to defend him, but I really don’t give a fuck.
“Yeah, you have, not me. The only thing that concerns me is getting that girl back alive and safe.”
“For once we agree on something, Blackwell,” Asher responds in a flat tone. I don’t even hear the words because I’m too focused on the sight of him. Asher Donovan in fucking gray sweatpants is not what I should be focused on right now, but I cannot pull my eyes away from him. Lord have fucking mercy on my black soul.
“Ugh don’t start, Asher. You’ve never given Max a chance,” Logan scolds him.
“Why would I give him a chance? The fucker hates me,” Ash grunts in disgust.
Logan sighs, “He doesn’t hate you, just everything you stand for. Your money, family name, upbringing.”
“Yeah, well that makes two of us,” he mutters under his breath in response.
“What’s the deal with him anyway?” I ask, gesturing for Asher to sit on the bed so we can get his face cleaned up. Now that he’s showered, the only thing that really needs attention that we can help with is a split eyebrow. His right eye is swollen, and the left half of his face is covered in purplish bruising already, but we can’t do anything about that. I’m hoping Logan can set his wrist before any permanent damage is caused.
He flops down onto the end of the bed with a groan and Logan and I both halt. He looks at Asher, then me and I just know he is thinking about the sounds he just made as he sat down. Fuck, who made the dark prince of the Donovan family a fucking walking temptation?
“Zack knows him from school, I think.” He groans again and it’s clear that the vodka isn’t doing much of a job of numbing his pain. I rifle in the first aid kit until I find some painkillers and toss them to him. He accepts them without argument and that's how I know he really is feeling the pain.
Logan huffs. “There's a little more to it than that.”
“Well, it’s fucking irrelevant at this point. As long as he doesn’t get in the way of me getting my daughter back, I don’t care.” The deadly tone of his voice cuts us off effectively, silencing the room as he knocks back a handful of painkillers with a swill of vodka.
Logan takes a deep breath and then drops down to the floor at the end of the bed, silently starting to fix Asher’s face. I see him start to relax slightly and I know what he took is starting to take effect.
Logan must sense it too because he breaks the quiet, “Told you, I’d be on my knees for you one day, psycho.” He purrs with a teasing glint in his eye, clearly trying to ease the tension, I can still see the pain that hides there though. I see right through his defense mechanism, just like I do with Jace. They are one in the same. They use their good looks and jokes as a weapon to keep people from digging deep enough to uncover their trauma.
Asher smiles a dazzling, sinister smile as he flashes his eyes to me and then to Logan. “Yeah, well we all know how much you enjoy being a bottom, Lo.”
I almost choke. Never in my life did I think I would hear something like that come from his mouth. I didn’t even think him capable of being human enough to make a joke, let alone make one in a situation like this. I can’t hide the smile it brings to my face, and as his eyes lock onto my mouth, I can’t help but lick my lips before responding to the taunt.
“Does that make you a top, dark prince?”
His gaze flicks to lock with mine. “I’m a top in everything I do.”
Neither Logan nor I know what to say to that. Mostly because he is right, but also because we know we would both drop to our knees if he asked. Not that he would. Lusting after Asher Donovan is like lusting after a celebrity. Unrealistic and unattainable. The only time they are ever in reach is in your fantasies. But what fulfilling fantasies they are.
He may not have the upper hand right now, but I still wouldn’t bet against him. I know he is capable of getting his daughter back and I want to be right there to help him. That’s the only thing that matters right now. Bringing Cassie home. I don’t care who I have to kill or what I have to do. I won’t fail her again. Fail him.