Hers To Keep (Servite Academy #2)

Prologue

Prologue

ACE

F rom the early age of seven, merely a boy amongst the most infamous of men, I’ve known what was to be of my life. I knew who and what I’d become, and it was exactly what I wanted - power, influence, privilege, prestige, amongst other glorious things. The most important of them all was purpose.

I had a purpose.

To rid our town of the evil that threatens to destroy the empire my family had long built. A mantra I recited day in and day out, to remind myself and those around me of the importance of my purpose. Evil lurks within the walls of my home, my city. What I’d later come to find, is the most destructive of forces, lives within me. Those I thought I was protecting would turn out to be the very forces that would destroy me.

Though I would be the one to destroy her.

My uncle tells me I must remember my place in all of this, what I was born for. To wash away the sins of those who poison our world. To rid our town of the evil that threatens to consume it. To cleanse our empire from sinful forces on the outside who want to control it, or worse, destroy it.

Though that’s not what I value anymore, if I ever truly did.

I still don’t understand how I was so blind before. How I didn’t realize that he who turned me into this fiend, into what I am, is the one who needed to be destroyed. He’s the villain, a ruthless monster, but he’s also a con, the most cunning of devils who fools us with his trickery.

I was made into a weapon to use against his enemies. He created the perfect warrior he so desperately needed - loyal, cruel, obedient, and he knows I’ll never turn on him. Before, it was because I looked up to him, and I so desperately wanted to be just like him. I blindly obeyed his orders, no questions asked. I was foolish to think he was all-knowing. But now he knows for sure that I’ll never betray him. That I’ll never try to overthrow him, to bring him down. He knows this because of her and the unfamiliar, but the carnal feelings she stirs inside me.

But it’s a dangerous thing for her to be a part of this world, for her to be so deeply involved, for her to be by my side. If anything were to happen to her, it would destroy me.

And he’s counting on that.

Nevertheless, I’m a selfish bastard, and I have no intention of setting her free.

The Four Horsemen are who he needed, so that’s exactly who we became. The fearless riders of the apocalypse he was about to unleash on his enemies.

Our job was always a simple one.

Loyalty. Obedience. Silence.

Those three simple words were the ideals instilled into every part of our being, embedded deep in our minds, and bound to the very core of our dark souls. A code we faithfully lived by. When we turned sixteen, they finally showed us what they’d groomed us for.

My uncle, and my best friend’s father, Stephan Silver, are at the front of a perilous drug empire. And they’ve relentlessly, and without shame, used us to do their bidding. We are their recruitment officers. We assemble teams of teens from the Academy and the surrounding high schools in a fifty-mile radius, to deal their drug, The Devil’s Kiss.

It’s a synthetic mixture of methamphetamine and cocaine, laced with fentanyl. Highly addictive and in high demand. We round up the poor fools showing them what a privilege it is to be in business with the Wesley Servite, to be at his command. They eat that shit up and jump at the opportunity to make an easy buck and be in his good graces. They become so addicted to the drug and the high it produces, they keep coming back for more.

And those who don’t, are condemned to a life of hardships at our hand. They’ll never get into an Ivy League University or see the inside of a Fortune 500 company. And for those in the pitiful neighborhoods that surround Hillcrest, they’ll never see the light on the outside of their dark, destitute tunnel.

Then, there are those who want out. In our world, there is only one way out.

In a wooden box, down a shallow grave.

So we rough them up a bit, a few bruises here and there, a couple broken ribs, maybe a concussion or two, no big deal, just a warning. For those who still don’t understand, let’s just say I haven’t had the privilege of finding out what happens to them.

But now as we approach eighteen, we were let in on another secret.

The Gallows.

Now we not only go to the parties around the neighboring towns to recruit dealers, but we also recruit his girls. We flirt and toy with the prettiest of girls, painting a real pretty picture of wealth, prominence, and adoration to those we feel are suitable candidates for The Gallows.

A dirty prostitution ring, led by my uncle, using underage girls to attract clientele for his illicit businesses. They’re not forced into doing anything they don’t want to. He assures me that with the amount of money they make, everything is consensual, and apparently, he doesn’t even force them to have sex until they’re of age.

A true saint he is. The money he brings in simply from putting his untouchable toys in cages, dangling above ravenous beasts like forbidden meat, is enough to keep his business afloat.

However, that’s no justification for the sick, vile things that occur at The Gallows, but it isn’t my place to have an opinion. We’re like robots—soulless, emotionless, and mute. We serve, we follow, we act.

The drugs are the least of my worries. The illicit businesses that he and his associates run are each more corrupt than the last. The Devil’s Kiss, being the prominent one, followed by The Gallows, which in my eyes is the most depraved. Then comes The Moxy, one I haven’t yet had the privilege of witnessing. The Moxy is an organized, underground casino, where the younger girls of The Gallows who are not yet at their prime , serve as waitresses and escorts. The Moxy is located in Galen Grove, which is Sin City in the heart of Hillcrest Hills. The original purgatory, run by the king of the underworld himself, Stephan Silver.

Then comes The Citadel, a political sector, run by the mayor himself, Malcolm Smoak, Alek’s father, with the help of Carlisle Prescott, Carrington’s father. The Citadel is the partisan group in charge of the wellbeing of Hillcrest Hills, and Malcolm Smoak, just like his predecessors, has a hold on the police department and other government officials who have dealings with Hillcrest. I’m told they’re the number one clients of The Moxy and The Gallows, and the ledger the Smoak’s hold, would ruin all of them were it ever to be found.

That’s the hold my uncle has on all his associates.

Finally, there are The Calypsos, which I’m sure they all have a hand in. Underground, private sex clubs all around the neighboring affluent towns. In the basements of hotels, office buildings, city halls, casinos, the possibilities are endless. Where the “graduates” of The Gallows can choose to move on to the more illicit clubs where they work for higher wages and engage in more intricate activities.

So here we are, my boys and me. Each of us and our families, a vital part of this wicked world, ready and willing to do anything to ensure the future of this empire, his empire. Our family legacy. Yet this time as we step foot into The Gallows, for the first time since she was here, I see this world for what it truly is.

An immoral, sinful hell.

Two Nights Ago

The Gallows is in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, in a large unoccupied lot amid all the chaos surrounding it on this side of town. The ugly side of Hillcrest Hills hides behind a curtain of pleasure and leisure. Of course my family owns the vacant land around the warehouse and holds documents that show we use it as a storage unit for vintage family heirlooms and other inherited belongings. As members of one of the five founding families, we’re never questioned.

The night is dark and cold. The sky is clear and illuminated only by scattered stars and a full moon. A perk of living high on a hill, is the incredible views of the non-smog infested skies. If only those views stretched out into the depravity of our surroundings.

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable setting foot in this place,” Bass mutters as we walk toward the back entrance of the club.

I shake my head at his confession silently laughing at the absurdity. Bass has always been the cynical one. He thinks with his head and nothing else, unlike the others. He’s sarcastic, scornful, and reserved. A certified manwhore, who shows no mercy for his conquests nor apologizes for his indifference to them after.

Alek is the neurotic one. He’s an arrogant bastard with a pretentious ego the size of fucking Mars. The most loyal to our cause, but deep down the most terrified of what it truly entails. Beckett’s the passive one. He’s disturbed when it comes to the vile shit we do since he wasn’t born into this world, and no one drilled our ideals into his mind from an early age. It wasn’t until about four years ago that we brought in him when his mother Eliza, married Bass’s father Stephan. Regardless, he’s loyal to the bone. He’s the least hated of the four of us, but we blame it on his foreign blood. An outsider from England, with an accent that makes the ladies swoon. There’s no competition, really.

Then there’s me. The king of kings. The unsympathetic leader of Servite Academy. The impulsive one. A selfish, prideful, all righteous bastard. I was a heartless son of a bitch interested in nothing more than what I’m destined for.

Until I met her.

Now she’s all I can think about. She’s infiltrated my soul and claimed it as her own. With an iron rod, she’s branded me hers, and there is no going back now.

The only problem, and it’s quite a big one, she fucking hates this world I’m a part of. She despises it with such an intense hatred, I’m not sure what I feel for her can surpass it. Although, I know she feels it too. When we’re together, it’s electric, and unexplainable. The pull is unparalleled to anything I’ve ever felt before. Her beauty blinds me, makes me vulnerable to her faults and the hatred she holds for me deep down, but there is no denying how she feels. The way her body reacts to my closeness. The way she’s instantly wet the moment I come near. She melts in my hands. She squirms under the heat of my body, and her fight dissolves the moment my lips touch hers.

Not to mention the way she screams out my name as my cock drives into her, thrust for thrust she meets me. Each orgasm is more intense than the last, and fuck, her stamina rivals mine. Scarlett was created for me. Carved by the big man upstairs to be my weakness. My salvation. The last opportunity to redeem myself .

My Hail Mary.

“You’d be worse than him if you ever get comfortable here, Bass,” Beck says, shaking his head somberly. “I swear your dad is one sick son of a bitch, Bass. But fuck, Ace, your uncle has him beat in every aspect.” We’re all dressed in our usual Horsemen attire, what we wear when we are executing one of his tedious, yet meticulous tasks. Dark jeans, black tees, and leather jackets. The dark sons of Servite Academy.

“You guys are fucking idiots. Come on, girls, sex, alcohol, drugs, the only thing better than this… well fuck, I don’t think there’s anything better,” Alek shouts, patting Beck roughly on his back.

“That’s because you’re just as fucked up as they are, Alek,” Beck answers, ignoring him and pushing through the front door.

“My man, Beck, you say that like it’s a bad thing,” Alek retorts. And fuck he’s getting annoying. I can see Beck feels it too. He’s trying his hardest to ignore him but Alek’s pushing every one of his buttons. Beckett Masters isn’t one to get hot-headed easily. His temper, unlike ours, is calm and he holds restraint. But if there’s one thing that irks him, it’s this. Women, young girls, being taken advantage of by fuckers who use their power and influence to intimidate them. I guess it hits close to home.

“It’s fucking sick, man. These girls, they’re selling themselves to these old fucks!” Beck argues back, getting more heated than I’ve ever seen him. But tonight’s not the night to make a scene, so I need to put a stop to this now.

“They’re making their own choices, nobody’s forcing their hand,” I say, coldly, trying my best to sound unconcerned. “We gave them the choice, showed them the green, the lavish life they could live, and they jumped right on board. They’re big girls, capable of making their own decisions. They could get out at any time, if it’s what they wanted.”

“You sure about that?” Bass asks somberly, coming up beside me and resting a hand upon my shoulder in the brotherly way he always has.

“He swore it to me when I agreed to help him,” I reply, not sounding too convincing.

“Well, if you believe him, then so do we,” Bass admits, turning and walking further along the hallway, deeper into this desecrated club.

And it’s at this exact moment when I realize that I’m unsure of what I believe.

But I can’t ignore the fact that Alek is also right. I can’t act like a saint, like I’m not guilty of everything he accuses us of. Were we here under any other circumstance, The Gallows would be a favorite spot of mine, of ours really. Girls, sex, alcohol, drugs, a man’s paradise. Although we should be the only guys these girls are fucking, and not these perverted old fucks, we don’t need to pay for a quick fuck. The girls come ready and willing to us.

But that’s beside the point. We’re not here to indulge. This isn’t a pleasurable visit. We’re here on official Horsemen business, and his name is Eli Hargrove.

According to my Uncle Wesley, Mr. Hargrove appears to have very loose lips that keep getting him into all sorts of trouble. For months now, my uncle’s been acting stranger than his usual anxious self. He’s constantly on edge and suffering from some sort of manic paranoia. His circle of confidants has gotten smaller, and he no longer trusts his best friends and business partners. I’ve seen him stash stacks of cash in and around the house, he steps out of the room when he gets phone calls, and his obsession with my girl has become terribly unsettling and unhealthy. Not to mention the fact that he’s after her mother. But I don’t think Lilith is the reason for this.

There is something else going on and I’m here to find out what. So first I must find Eli Hargrove, and before we send him a message to ensure he does not speak out of turn, I need to question him myself .

The back entrance we came in through, which is mainly used by employees and security, leads to a long hallway with two staircases at the far end of the sterile hospital looking facility that reeks of cigarettes and sex. One leads up to the club floor, the other to the underground rooms used for my uncle’s business meetings and interrogations. The floor we’re currently on is where the girls’ changing rooms are located.

The sound of a door creaking open startles us suddenly as we all stiffen at the sound, ready to react to whoever’s interrupting us.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the golden boy and his pack of savages,” says a shrill voice coming from behind me. I close my eyes, shaking my head undoubtedly knowing exactly who it is.

“Remington Spencer,” I mutter under my breath, as I turn and face the dark-haired harlot, dressed in a sexy black mini dress that barely covers her cunt.

“In the flesh, babe,” she murmurs back, fluttering her lashes tediously and twirling a strand of her brown hair in between her fingers.

I met Remington Spencer and her twin sister Lexington earlier this summer at a party in the town of Lakeview, about five hours away from Hillcrest. We’d gone out there to chase down some stupid fucker who ran out on my uncle with a fat stash of cash and about ten grand worth of drugs. We followed him all the way to a party in a trashed trailer park, when we ran into the girls. They were the talk of the night, well of the town if I’m being honest, with it being their seventeenth birthday party and all. Not to mention they were easy on the eyes.

They were the first girls I brought to Wesley. Their mom was an addict and their dad a deadbeat drunk with a heavy hand. I honestly didn’t really have to sell them on the gig. The moment I mentioned them having an out from the hell they were living they were in. They moved out of their parents’ trailer and shortly after began working at The Gallows. They send their old man a monthly allowance to ensure he stays out of their business and have since become my uncle’s main attraction. Nothing is more tempting to a herd of sick pervs than a pair of sexy as fuck twins.

The thing my uncle doesn’t know, I may have sampled his product before delivering. Both. But that was the old me. Now, Remi doesn’t even warrant a second glance.

“It’s good to see you again, Ace. It’s been a while,” she says, as she walks over to me, her fingers tracing the silver cross hanging from my neck. A cross I hadn’t worn in years but now can’t seem to take it off. I step back slightly, inhaling a deep breath and holding it in, trying not to react to her touch. A sly smirk appears on her face, and I can sense she knows the reason behind my reluctance. “Sad I missed you the other night you were here. Luke said your girl got into some trouble,” she coos, with a cunning grin.

“Fuck Prescott, anything he says is a fucking lie,” I scoff, removing her hand from my chest, and throwing it back at her.

Remi rolls her eyes but doesn’t cower down or walk away at my subtle dismissal. Her dark hair falls upon her shoulders in luscious waves as she stands before me. “So you weren’t here, or she’s not your girl?” she asks coyly.

“Careful, Remi,” Bass murmurs, coming up behind her and moving her hair off her shoulder exposing the tan skin of her neck. He lowers his lips to the exposed skin, lightly licking across it, as her eyes roll back at his physical touch. “Ace is very protective of his little toy. I’d hate to see this pretty little face get hurt for speaking out of turn.”

“Mmm,” she moans, as his fingers grip her neck turning her face toward him.

“That’s no threat to her,” says another voice coming from the shadows. She scoffs, “You know she’d love it if Ace laid a hand on her. My sweet sister is a masochist, thanks to daddy dearest.” Lexington Spencer appears from behind us, donning the same dress as her sister, only hers is white lace instead of black. Unlike her careless and materialistic sister, Lexington is introverted and wary of others. I’ve always felt the only reason Lex agreed to work for Wesley, was to not let her impulsive sister do it alone.

“Oh shut it, Lex, we can’t all be saintly whores like you,” Remi sneers.

Lexi flips her sister off, turning to face her. “No, just psychotic whores, right? Careful boys, this one’s mental.” At Lexi’s comment, Remi charges at her, nearly knocking Bass over. However, he’s quick to pull her back before her hand grabs a handful of Lexi’s hair.

“Alright, girls, enough. As much as I’d love to see where this little cat fight leads us, we’ve got shit to do,” Bass says, effortlessly holding the sisters apart. They both grunt, fixing their hair before turning back to me. They’re fucking identical with dark brown hair, golden tan skin, and big hazel-green eyes.

“Which is actually why we’re here,” Remi says, adjusting her dress. I look over to her, confused by her words, as she rounds me once again placing a hand on my shoulder. She stands beside me, half her body hiding behind mine. “Master felt you’d need a hand tonight with Mr. Hargrove.” She moves to the other side, her hand continuing to roam across my back to my other shoulder.

“So he sent two,” adds Lexi, doing the same to Alek who stands back with his mouth wide open staring at the tempting sisters.

“Then let’s get to it,” I say, turning and heading down the staircase that leads to the basement we keep available for our meetings, ignoring them both trailing behind me.

Outside the door of the room, I find Luke Prescott, Carrington’s older brother, and another of my uncle’s parasites, guarding the door. He straightens up as he sees us approaching, his eyes moving behind me to find the Spencer twins.

“Ladies, gentlemen, Remi, what can I do for you?” he asks as we approach, making a dig at Remi. Luke Prescott is nothing like his sister Carrington. His hair is dark, compared to her blonde, Goldilocks hair. They’re like night and day, the conceited, spoiled princess, and the rebel black sheep .

“You can move the fuck out of our way, Prescott,” Bass orders, taking the words right out of my mouth. I’ve never liked Luke and started liking him even less once he started working for my uncle about three years ago.

“Hargrove already in there?” I ask, stopping in front of him. He nods, moving slowly to grab the doorknob.

“Must warn you though, pretty boy, the sight ain’t too, well pretty.” I glare at him, ignoring his remark as I push the door open.

Stepping into the room, I find it unnervingly dark, with just a dim lamp hanging from the ceiling over the man of the hour, who’s tied up to a chair in the middle of the room. His dress shirt is wrinkled and slightly ripped at the sleeves, the buttons popped open revealing his flabby gut that’s waxed by duct tape, and turned bright red. Not to mention his gray dress pants are grossly stained in the middle. The drunk fucker must have pissed himself from the excruciating pain of the waxing.

I turn back and shout at Luke who stands by the door. “Who the fuck did this to him?”

“The boss said we needed to rough him up a bit for you,” he says, awfully proud of his stupidity.

“A bit? You fucking tortured the bastard, made him piss himself.” My mood instantly goes from impassive to angry as I look at the idiotic look on Luke’s face. How the fuck am I supposed to get Hargrove to talk if he’s already been fucking tortured?

“Some men just can’t handle it,” he mocks, only pissing me off more.

“Get the fuck out, Luke!” I shout, and his smirk quickly disappears.

“But the boss said,” he stutters anxiously.

“I don’t give a fuck what he said. I’m here now, and I say get the fuck out.” I turn to look at Alek and Beck, barking orders at them. “You two guard the door and him, make sure he doesn’t leave your side.” They both nod their heads pushing Luke out and slamming the door behind them. I look to my right and find Remi and Lex standing against the wall looking terrified at the scene before them.

I walk over to Hargrove who sits with eyes bulging out of his sockets, as he watches me approach, looking more terrified than the twins. “We brought you two little gifts to enjoy a bit before the real fun started, but it looks like my uncle’s minion got ahead of himself. The girls aren’t gonna want to play with an old fucker who pisses himself at the show of a little pain.” His body tenses at my arrival before him.

On the table beside him are a few tools used in these interrogations: a pocketknife, a taser, a wrench, and two rolls of duct tape. I violently rip off the piece of tape that covers his mouth, as he lets out a horrifying shriek.

“Fuck!” he shouts, causing the girls to jump back. They don’t need to be witnesses to what’s about to happen. If I’m to question Mr. Hargrove, I need to do it alone.

“Ladies, I don’t think we will need your services any longer. You’re excused.” They both nod nervously as Bass opens the door for them to exit.

I turn back to Hargrove whose head hangs low trying to avoid eye contact with me. “So, Eli Hargrove, what have you done to make my uncle so angry with you?” I say, grabbing a chair from the side and sitting cross-legged before him.

“I… I have done nothing, man,” he stutters nervously.

I sit up, elbows upon my knees, the way I’ve always watched my uncle do, as I berate him. “Sir, you shall call me ‘sir’.”

“Yes, sorry, sir. I don’t know why I’m here, sir. I’ve always been loyal to your uncle, to your whole family. I’ve kept quiet about his businesses, covered up when he needed me to. Transferred money to his offshore accounts; I’ve done it all.” And there goes that loose lip again running like it’s got somewhere to be.

“Who are you exactly, Eli Hargrove?” I ask, confused by his pleas .

“I’m his accountant, your family’s accountant. I’d never blackmail him, sir. I’m not smart enough for that.” And there it is, the mystery behind my uncle’s unusual behavior unveiled. Blackmail. Someone is blackmailing Wesley. He honestly thinks it’s this pathetic fucker. This man isn’t capable of speaking without stuttering, pisses his pants at the show of a little pain, and surely looks like he’d get down on his knees and fucking suck me off and beg were he not tied to this chair. That and the fact that he looks like he’s about to cry.

“Why’d he think it was you?”

“The letters, they came from my office, with stationery that has my office’s name on it. I was out of town, some family affairs I needed to take care of.”

“So it looked suspicious that you weren’t there?” I ask, standing up and pacing around the room.

“Yes, he thought I’d run. But I would never.”

I need to find out who it is that’s blackmailing him, and if this has anything to do with why he’s become so obsessed with Scarlett. “Do you have a list of employees, clients, people who’d have direct contact to your offices?”

“Yes, yes. The list is probably long, but I can give it to you. I’ll have my secretary send it over immediately. I have a sign-in log as well for the time I wasn’t there. I’ll give it all to you, I’ll cooperate. I have nothing to hide, sir, I promise.”

Suddenly, we’re interrupted by a loud commotion coming from outside, the door abruptly swung open.

“Servite,” Luke says, a bit out of breath and clearly enraged. “We’ve got a lurker.” I slowly turn toward the door and find the last person I thought I’d ever see here. The dragon boy in the flesh. Damon Fucking Drake. He’s dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie, obviously trying to be inconspicuous, but failing miserably. His lip is bleeding and there is a minor cut across his right brow. He must have gotten caught trying to sneak in here.

“If it isn’t the dragon himself, Damon Drake,” I yell out walking over to him, forgetting all about Hargrove tied up behind me. “Can’t say I’m surprised to see you. I knew you’d do something stupid at one point. I guess I just didn’t really think you’d be this stupid.”

“Fuck you, Servite,” he says, spitting at my feet while Alek and Beck hold him back. “What kind of sick shit are you involved in? Is this where you bring her? Your uncle is trying to get her to work for him, that sick son of a bitch.” Rage rises in me, and I throw a punch, striking Drake right in the jaw, his head falling to the side with the intensity of my blow.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” I shout, seeing fucking red as he grins, blood clearly visible in his mouth.

“Mr. Servite, it looks like you are otherwise occupied if you’d just let me go.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I shout, rushing back to Hargrove, and slamming my fist into his chin. His head flies to the side, blood spewing from his mouth along with a few teeth clattering on the floor. My anger rages in me like a wildfire with no signs of slowing down.

How did this shit get so fucking out of control?

I rub my hand against my t-shirt, wiping Hargrove’s blood off my knuckles as I walk back toward where Drake now stands, in the room with Alek and Beck still holding his arms behind his back. Remi appears from behind the guys as she walks back into the room, heading over to the table beside Hargrove. All eyes follow her as she grabs the pocketknife. She struts back over to me, handing me the blade, as she reaches up on her tiptoes whispering in my ear.

“In case you want to make him bleed,” she says, licking across my ear as she hisses. “Heard this one’s had your girl.” I turn back to Drake, who is fuming at the sight of Remi close to me.

I grin widely at him, “You made the wrong move showing up here, Drake.”