Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Thirty

Isabella

I lick my dry lips. “Do you know where Carter is?”

The nurse in the room checks the IV drip and gives it a firm shake. Then she peers at it, her dark eyes giving nothing away. “I haven’t seen Mr. Blackthorne in a few hours, Ms. Julis.”

I sink back against the bed and twist a loose thread between my fingers. When she’s done checking the drip, I look back at the dark-haired nurse with some silver in her hair and sigh. “Do you have any idea when I can leave?”

“Once you’re done with the IV drip, I can ask them to prepare the discharge papers for you,” she replies, pausing to write something down on the clipboard. “Are you sure you’re feeling well enough? You can stay for another night if you like.”

But I’ve already been here for three days, and I’m itching to go back home.

Back to the penthouse I share with Carter, where the world feels like a million miles away, and nothing bad can touch us. Slowly, I sit up straighter, the covers falling to my waist, and clear my throat. “Actually, I feel better. Can you get the discharge papers ready for me?”

I want to surprise Carter by showing up at his door.

Even though I have no idea how I’m going to do that yet.

The nurse nods, adjusts something in the IV drip, and takes a step back. Without responding, she leaves the room, and the door clicks shut behind her. As soon as I’m sure I’m alone, I get up and stretch my arms over my head, a yawn passing through my lips. When I’m done, I step into the bathroom, pausing to pick the bag up off the floor. Slowly, I set it down on the counter, unzip the flap, and let it fall open with a soft banging sound.

Carter has packed an assortment of things, including a set of racy lingerie that makes me blush.

With a smile, I hold them up to the mirror and imagine his hands all over me, making every inch of my body shiver in anticipation. Humming to myself, I step into the shower and wait for steam to fill the bathroom. When I come back out, I pat myself dry and rake my fingers through my hair. In the room, my phone is vibrating incessantly and falls onto the bed.

As soon as I pick it up, the world spins and falls into the background.

I perch on the edge of the bed and read the brief article about Carter and Lilian, and bile rises to the back of my throat. Frowning, I read the article one more time, tears pricking the back of my eyes. Then, I scroll through my contacts and dial Carter’s number. It rings a few times before going straight to voicemail. Panic and fear bubble up within me as I try Carter a second and third time.

But he remains out of reach.

And I start to pace the room, wondering if the article is true.

I’ve already seen the picture of Carter in our playroom at the club, with Lilian scantily clad in my lingerie. Although I don’t want to keep picturing it, I keep replaying the scene in my head, this time imagining the two of them on the couch in the corner, doing all sorts of things to each other while the lights are dim and soft music plays in the background.

The image is so upsetting that I find myself staggering into the bathroom to empty the contents of my stomach. When I’m done, I splash cold water on my face and gargle. Then, I grip the edge of the sink and count backward from twenty. As soon as I feel steady enough, I hoist my bag onto my shoulders and return to the room. My hands shake when I sign the discharge papers, and I avoid the nurse’s gaze.

In the hallway, I don’t see any of Carter’s men.

So I hang my head low, weave in and out of the people rushing past in either direction, and make a beeline for the elevator. Outside, a brisk wind has started, and a heaviness settles in the center of my chest. I begin walking in the general direction of the penthouse when I hear a pair of footsteps behind me. Fear slams into me as I quicken my pace and round a corner.

The man races past me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

It lasts until another man emerges from the shadows and advances on me. “You’re right where Lilian said you’d be.”

I stumble back and hold my arms up on either side of me. “Stay away from me. You have no idea who you’re messing with. Carter Blackthorne is not going to be happy about this.”

In the moonlight, I see the man’s expression shift and turn pleased. “That’s exactly why we’re doing this. You’ve caused enough trouble as it is.”

I duck into an alley and break into a sprint, my heart hammering uneasily the entire time. Once I reach the end of the alley, I throw myself at the wall and try to climb it, but I’m dragged away by the back of my hair. Little pinpricks of pain dance behind my eyelids. I throw my head back to disarm the man, and he hisses. I fall to the ground and scramble away from him, but his meaty hands close around my ankles.

“We have all sorts of plans for you, little bird,” he says, his putrid breath in my ear. “You’re going to be worth a lot of money.”

I squirm and thrash against him, but it’s no use.

My last thought before he places a rag over my mouth is of Carter and how the fuck he’s meant to find me now.

***

Carter

“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone?” Before the SUV comes to a complete stop, I push the door open and race up the stairs to the hospital, barely seeing anything around me. When I burst through the double doors, my hands clenched into fists at my side, several people nearby jump back as if I’m going to unleash my anger in their direction.

With the way I’m feeling, I’m not sure that I won’t.

I’m vaguely aware of Ernesto hurrying after me and saying something in a low voice, but I can’t make out a word he says. All I know is that I left for a few hours to take care of pressing business, and the next thing I know, one of my men is placing the call. As soon as I reach the hallway where Isabella’s room is located, I make a beeline for the man in question.

He barely has time to straighten his back before I slam him against the wall hard enough to make his teeth rattle. “You had one fucking job, and you couldn’t even manage that. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end you right now.”

He tries to stay something, but my hands are tight around his neck.

Tristan appears next to me and places a hand on my shoulders. “Boss—”

“Don’t say another fucking word,” I snap, without looking at my cousin. “Someone has to pay the price for this, so unless you’re volunteering, I suggest you stay out of my way.”

Tristan withdraws his hand so quickly it’s as if he’s been burned. Then he takes a few steps back, and I press down harder, seeing nothing but red in my field of vision. Eventually, when the man starts to sputter and marks blossom around his neck, I release my grip. The man crumples into a heap on the floor, and I push past him and into her room.

It’s as if she was never there, except for the lingering scent of her perfume.

I tear the whole room apart, leaving the sheets and pillows in a complete state of disarray. I’m so consumed with rage that it takes the blonde-haired nurse coming in and making a low squeak of horror to pull me out of my rampage. With a growl, I brush past her and take the stairs to the bottom floor, the movement doing nothing to quench the worry and panic clawing their way inside of me.

Where the hell is Isabella?

And why didn’t she come home?

By the time I reach the bottom floor, my phone won’t stop vibrating. When I take it out and see the messages from Isabella, my stomach dips, and I feel worse. Outside, I punch a hole in the wall nearest the emergency room door, droplets of blood following me down the pavement and into the SUV. Ernesto puts the car in reverse and speeds in and out of traffic, charting a direct path to the penthouse. As soon as he pulls up outside, I rip off a piece of fabric and wrap it around my bleeding knuckles. In the elevator, it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to break the whole thing down.

The red-hot anger pulsing through me only intensifies when I step into the penthouse and find Lilian draped over the kitchen counter, barely wearing any clothes. Her blood-red lips form a surprised ‘O’ as she slides off the counter and saunters toward me.

“You’re late. I expected you home a while ago.”

I give her my most menacing look. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lilian? How did you even get in?”

She places a manicured nail against my chest and purrs. “Have you forgotten already, baby? I can be very persuasive when I want to be, remember?”

I push her hand away and growl. “Get the fuck out of my house. Now.”

Lilian tosses her dark hair over her shoulders and places both hands on her hips. “Is that any way to talk to the woman who cleaned your house and made you food?”

I wasn’t in the mood to play house, especially not with fucking Lilian, of all people.

She has no idea how much control I’m exerting right now. Or how much I want to hurt her for all the pain and damage she’s inflicted.

The world would be a better place without a journalist like Lilian fucking things up.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Lilian bridges the distance between us and bats her eyes at me. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

I take Lilian’s wrist in mine and drag her away in the direction of the door. Before I slam the door shut, I catch a brief glimpse of her stunned face. Then, I fish my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts.

Rich Donahue answers on the fifth ring, his voice pitched low.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m at an auction. I’m looking for my sister.”

“I don’t care what the fuck you do with your spare time, but Isabela is missing, and I need more men out looking for her.”

“Fuck.” The loud cacophony of voices disappears as Rich moves somewhere quieter. “I’ll make a few phone calls and see what I can do.”

“You better.” I end the call without waiting for his response and throw my phone away. It crashes against the wall opposite me and breaks into a million little pieces. Then I grip the kitchen counter, throw my head back, and let out a loud, blood-curdling scream.

Whoever did this is going to wish they’d never been born.

***

Isabella

“I don’t know how to thank you.” I fidget in the backseat of the car and fold my hands in my lap. “I’ll find a way to pay you back, Rich.”

He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I was able to put my money to good use.”

I shiver and try to push away the image of what could’ve happened.

If Rich hadn’t shown up when he had and bid on me using all the money at his disposal, I have no idea what would’ve become of me. But I know it wouldn’t have involved a hot meal, a clean shower, and being handed a pair of clean clothes.

Fuck.

Just the thought of what those men almost accomplished sends another tremor through me, and tears prick the back of my eyes. Hastily, I wipe them away and sit on my hands to hide my tremor. Outside the car, the world rushes past, barely distinguishable in the waning light of the moon. I swallow, bow my head, and squeeze my eyes shut.

“I go there sometimes to look for my sister,” Rich says in a low voice. He refuses to meet my gaze in the rearview mirror, and I don’t know why. “I know it’s stupid, and I know my chances of finding her are slim, but I can’t help myself.”

Both eyes fly open, and I lean forward in my seat. “How long has it been since your sister has gone missing?”

“A few years.” Rich’s voice is thick with emotion when he says this. He turns the wheel and pulls onto a small, well-traveled path that leads through a cluster of trees. The path stops in front of a pair of wrought-iron gates where a large house sits, bathed in the silver glow of the moon. Wordlessly, Rich rolls the window down and twists sideways to punch a number into the screen.

The gate shudders to life, allowing us passage.

Once the car rolls to a stop, I push the door open and stumble out of the vehicle. I wince when my foot catches on something uneven, and I stumble forward. Rich hooks me by the waist and helps me right myself. In silence, he leads me through the front door and flicks the light on, revealing high-arched ceilings, a balcony with glass doors overlooking the woods, and an open-concept kitchen with modern appliances.

“I’m going to take a look at your wounds,” Rich murmurs before disappearing through a door on the right. Through the slit, I make out a bathroom, catching a glimpse of a sink and a glass shower stall. Rich reappears with his hair in tufts on top of his head and a first aid kid. Slowly, he takes my hand and leads me to the couch.

I don’t realize that I’m crying until he hands me a pack of tissues.

“I’m sorry.” I blow my nose and wince when he touches a piece of cotton on my raw skin. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Because what they did to you is horrible,” Rich replies without looking up. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he cleans the wounds on both arms before looking up at me. “It’s okay to be a mess right now, Isabella.”

I sniff, another ripple of goosebumps breaking out across my skin. “When can I see Carter?”

“There’s a storm coming, so I haven’t been able to reach him,” Rich replies. “I was able to call ahead while I waited for them to release you, so the house is stocked. Don’t worry.”

I swallow. “I’m going to be staying here?”

Rich picks up the dirty rags and the bucket full of blood-tinted water and walks away. “You don’t have to see me if you don’t want to. You’re safe here, Isabella.”

I curl my legs underneath me and run a hand over my face. “Thank you.”

I hear the sound of running water and sink further against the couch. “I don’t know who they were or how they found me, but they knew exactly how to get to me.”

As if they’d been lying in wait, stalking me like prey.

I know Carter has a lot of enemies, but nothing like this has ever happened before.

And I’m a lot more rattled than I want Rich to know.

All I want is to curl up on the big bed next to Carter, tuck myself into his side, and fall asleep with my head pressed against his chest. Wave after wave of emotion builds within me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. When Rich returns to the living room, I force my eyes open and give him a weak smile.

“Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head. “Not like that. Thank God they didn’t get the chance.”

Rich looks relieved. “Good, why don’t I make us something to eat? Any allergies I should know about?”

I stand up and sway a little on my feet. “I can help you.”

Rich studies my face. “Why don’t you keep me company while I cook?”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “I can handle that.”

Gingerly, I follow him into the kitchen, where he pulls a bar stool out for me. I hop onto it, my legs dangling over the edge, and lean over the counter. “I’m sorry you couldn’t find your sister tonight.”

Rich opens and closes several cupboards. “I’ll find her eventually. I just have to keep looking.”

“She’s lucky to have a brother like you,” I whisper to his back. “Sometimes, I wonder what it would’ve been like to have siblings.”

Rich spins around and sets down a pan and a pot. He fills up the kettle with water and takes some vegetables and a package of chicken out of the fridge. “I actually wanted to be an only child, but I honestly can’t imagine my life without my sister.”

“What’s her name?”

“Lorna,” Rich replies before averting his gaze. “I can’t even remember what I said to her the last time we spoke, but I know it was something stupid.”

“It won’t be the last thing you say to her,” I offer, forcing my lips into a smile. “With the kind of money and resources you have, I’m sure you’ll be able to find her, and I’m pretty sure you could ask for more help now.”

Although I have no idea if Carter would be willing to offer it, considering how thin he’s spread.

Still, considering the kind of fate Rich just saved me from, I know it’s the least Carter can do.

Rich chops up the vegetables and cracks open two eggs. He places all the ingredients in a bowl and spins around to face me, the whisk moving steadily in his hand. “Speaking of help, how are things going with Carter? The last time you spoke, you were… concerned.”

I snort. “That’s an understatement. That journalist won’t stop coming after us.”

“After you,” Rich corrects apologetically. “She doesn’t actually want to hurt Carter. It seems like she’s just trying to lure him back or something.”

I sit up straighter. “Carter is not going to fall for it. He knows better now.”

Because I know what we have is real, in spite of the vicious voice inside of my head telling me otherwise. The last thing I want is to give Lilian that kind of power over us, to make her feel like she’s gained even one inch. Yet, a part of me can’t help but wonder what Carter is going to do while I’m gone.

Or who he’s going to do.

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I banish it and gesture to the bowl in Rich’s hand. “Why don’t I whisk, and you focus on the chicken?”

Rich smiles. “You’ve got it. I know this isn’t how you want to spend your time, but as soon as the storm clears, I’ll take you back to Carter.”

I don’t want to think about how long that will take.

Or the kind of damage I’ll find when I do make it back home.

Instead, Rich and I sit down to eat, and the lights flicker off. By the light of a candle, we sit across from each other, fierce winds howling outside. When it starts to rain, Rich and I carry the dishes to the sink, and he washes them while I dry them. There is a low whistling sound outside as Rich leads me up the stairs a short while later.

He leaves me in the middle of a large room with a terrace, holding a pile of clean sheets and pillows. When I crawl into bed at night, I keep going over my stay in the hospital, but everything is hazy, like I’m looking at it through a dirty camera lens.

I know I can’t trust my memory, especially not with the amount of drugs in my system.

Rich wasn’t in my room professing his love for me; he couldn’t have been. Not when he only wants to help me and stay in business with Carter. For his mom’s sake.

By the time sleep comes for me, I’m convinced it was all the medication making me hallucinate.

In the morning, I wake to the of Carter. Will I be able to connect with him today? Hopeful that the storm has passed, I take a quick shower and get dressed. When I head downstairs, Rich has made eggs, pancakes, and coffee.

I spend the day wandering around the house and checking my phone for a signal.

On the fourth day, the storm starts to clear up, and I find Rich by the balcony, peering out at the sky. “It looks like we’re finally going to catch a break.”

I nod and shove my hands into my pockets. “Thank you.”

Rich spins around to face me, and there’s a strange twinkle in his eyes. “Isabella, there’s something I want to tell you, but I’m not sure if I should. It’s about the reporter, and this article—”

I hold my hand up. “Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it when I go home.”

Rich hesitates, then nods. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this. I know you’ve got Carter, but if you ever need anything… anything at all, I want you to know that you can come to me.”

I nod and lapse into silence.

A few hours later, Tristan and Paul pull up in a car outside Rich’s house. In silence, I get into the car and twist to watch Rich lingering in the doorway, a crestfallen expression on his face. I push the expression out of my mind, lean back, and promptly fall asleep. When I stir awake, I have no idea where I am or how long it’s been since I left the Donahue house.

All I know is that Carter is carrying me in his arms, the familiar smell of him washing over me.

I stare at him, taking in the days’ old stubble peppered across his chin and the dark bags under his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten in days, and my heart twists inside my chest as he carries me into our bedroom and sets me down on the mattress. As soon as he does, I sit on my hind legs and throw my arms around him.

Carter stiffens but doesn’t pull away. “You never should’ve left the hospital, dove.”

“I know, Carter. I’m sorry…”

He draws back, and his face is haggard, his eyes bloodshot. “Take off your clothes, and don’t move.”

Without waiting for a response, he disappears out of the room, and I hear his feet walking down the hallway. With trembling fingers, I hurriedly take off my clothes and drape myself over the bed, my heart thumping unsteadily the entire time. Carter returns without his shirt on, a belt in one hand and a toy in the other. He ties my hands together, pulls me up to my feet, and runs a single finger down my backside.

I shiver in anticipation and fear.

When the belt connects to my skin, I make a low noise in the back of my throat. Carter draws the belt back and hits me again, harder this time.

“Don’t ever leave me like that again.” Carter’s breath is hot in my ears, and my legs tremble, but I don’t move. “What the fuck were you thinking by running off like that? What the hell were you thinking by sending me those messages, huh?”

I swallow. “I didn’t mean anything, I—”

“Who told you that you can speak?” Carter hisses into my ear. “I’m not done talking yet, dove. It seems like I still have a few lessons to teach you.”

He places a hand on my back and forces me to lean forward so my arms are braced against the mattress and my ass juts into the air. Then a finger darts between my wet folds, and he places the strange object there. Wave after wave of desire builds up within me. As soon as he removes his hand, my muscles clench, and I exhale.

I hear Carter licking his fingers, and it sends another jolt through me.

Carter shoves two fingers into my mouth and growls. “Taste yourself, dove. You taste even better than you did before.”

My tongue darts out to lick his fingers.

He pushes his fingers in further and makes another guttural sound in the back of his throat. Abruptly, he spins me around and frames my face in his hands, his grip a little too rough against my skin. “When I tell you that I’m not going to leave you and that I don’t want to be with another fucking woman, I expect you to believe me. Got it?”

My eyes widen, and I nod.

Carter’s eyes darken as he releases my face and pushes me down until I’m at eye level with his waist. He kicks his pants away so his erection springs free. “Let’s see you put that mouth to good use, dove.”

I lick my dry lips, and my mouth parts. Carter doesn’t wait for a response as he thrusts forward. I take him all the way in, so he’s at the back of my throat. My fingers itch to touch him, to soothe the turbulent emotions away, but I know I can’t.

Not in the way I want to.

Not yet.

First, Carter needs to assert his control, and I know that having me on my hands and knees in front of him, tied up on a whim, is what it’s going to take to make him feel better. I run my tongue over him, sucking and moaning as I do. Carter eases out and slams back into me, his deep growling making my entire skin erupt into goosebumps.

A part of me loves unhinged Carter, the kind who would fuck me just as wildly and passionately in the middle of a restaurant as he would in our bedroom. I cling to that thought as Carter winds his fingers through my hair and presses hard, sending little pinpricks of pain through my scalp. Suddenly, I feel something between my legs, and the device comes alive.

I falter and stop moving.

Carter’s grip returns to my head. “I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?”

I shake my head and whimper.

The device between my legs sends little pulses through me, the kind to make my blood turn molten. Sweat forms on the back of my neck and slides in rivulets down my skin. I lower my bound hands and press down on them. Then I tilt my head back and look up at Carter’s enraptured face.

It’s the face of the man I love, and it is glorious.

Every last scarred and flawed inch of him.

He tilts his head forward, looking directly at me, and his eyes narrow slightly. Then he pulls me back up to my feet. When Carter presses his lips to mine, he kisses me so thoroughly and so savagely that it leaves a little bruise. With a growl, Carter spins me around and pushes me onto the bed. I fall, and he advances, pausing to tie my hands to the bed on either side of me.

Another thrill of anticipation races through me.

Carter’s eyes move steadily over my face while he spreads my legs open and ties them on either side of the posts. After he’s done, he gives them an experimental tug and climbs off the bed. He retrieves a remote off the ground and switches it off, causing the little vibrations between my legs to stop. A whimper falls from my lips before I can stop it.

I don’t recognize the expression on Carter’s face as he climbs back onto the bed and settles in between my legs. He positions himself at my entrance and looks down at me. “Tell me you won’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave you, sir.” I gasp when he thrusts into me and places his hands on either side of my head. I wriggle, eager and desperate, wanting to touch any single part of him but unable to. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Carter eases and slams back into me this time, and the bed creaks underneath us. “Fuck, dove. Do you have any idea what you do to me? Or how ready I was to go to war for you?”

Tears prick the back of my eyes. “No, sir.”

Carter gives a few more thrusts, and his breathing grows labored. “You need to stay where I can see you, where I can feel you and touch you. Understand?”

I give him a tight nod.

Carter buries his face in the crook of my neck and lets out a wounded sound. I shift and try to draw him closer, but I’m completely at his mercy. All I can do is stay there while he pumps in and out of me at a fierce and animal-like pace, like he’s trying to outrun something. The force of my orgasm rips through me, leaving me panting and gasping for breath.

I lift my hips off the mattress, and Carter slaps my ass with his bare hand, sending another jolt through me. When I lower myself back onto the bed, I pant, and spots dance in my field of vision. Carter shifts and moves down so he’s at eye level with my dripping wet sex.

I lose all sense of time and reason when his tongue darts into my center.

Over and over, it moves, and I meet each thrust with one of my own. Eventually, Carter sinks his fingers into my waist and pins me to the mattress, so I’m unable to do anything. Another orgasm washes over me, and I call out his name like a prayer. Carter quickly replaces his tongue, his movements quick and precise as he seeks his own release.

When it finally comes, he looks up at the ceiling and empties himself into me.

As soon as Carter unties me, I pull him to me and bury my face against his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worried.”

Carter’s fingers glide over my bare back. “I have no idea how Donahue managed to get to you in time, but I’m glad he did.”

I stir and look back at him. “I’m not going to leave you for him, Carter.”

Carter doesn’t meet my gaze, but his hand stops moving. He gets up, pulls his clothes back on, and leaves the room. I have the sheets pulled up to my chin when he returns with a tray of food. He watches me eat in silence until I’m too tired to keep my eyes open.

My last thought before I fall asleep is how much I want to comfort him.

Because what kind of chance do we have if Carter still thinks I’m going to leave him?