Beautiful Devils (Filthy Wicked Psychos, #2)

by Eva Ashwood

Because if that’s how they see me—if that’s what they’re telling people about me—then I don’t want to be anywhere near them. How could I ever have trusted them?

All my fear is for Willow. For the gorgeous angel who fell into our laps and then became so much more than a loose end. She’s stronger than she looks, I know that. But up against someone like Ilya… I’m not sure if it’s going to be enough.

One of my parents was still alive all that time ago? One of them wanted to find me?

I have a grandmother. A family. A real one.

“I’m done,” I tell them, my voice shaking a little. “You can find someone else to use and spy on and whatever else. Ilya is dead, so there’s no reason for you to watch me anymore. The threat is gone.” I lift my chin, staring at each of them in turn. “Kill me if you want, but I’m not coming back.”

I keep turning what she said over and over in my mind, pressing my foot down on the gas as I methodically merge into another lane. She saw the video. She saw the note I wrote to X, calling her a whore. Calling her worthless. From the very beginning, it didn’t sit right with me to write those words about her. But I knew it was necessary. We all did. X was so attached to Willow being delivered to him as a virgin that the only way to break his interest in her was to remove what he found so valuable. To turn her into trash in his eyes. But that was just for the ruse. She was never trash to us. She was never worthless. Willow was never supposed to know about any of it, but she found out, and now everything feels fractured and out of control in the way that makes my skin hum unpleasantly.

“And at least it means our plan worked,” Ransom puts in. “He doesn’t want Willow anymore.” There’s a note of satisfaction in his voice, but it’s mixed with something dull and heavy. Something like pain. Because even though our plan worked and we managed to protect Willow… We lost her too.

“Your bruises are almost gone,” he says. His voice is rough, and he sounds almost… relieved. Like he actually cared that I was hurt. His voice snaps the tense silence, and I swallow hard, stiffening my spine. I can’t afford to get dragged into this mess with him again. I can’t afford to let my guard down. When I told them all I was done before, I meant it, and I have to stand firm to that. I call up all my anger from the night I saw that video, letting it burn hot and bright in my chest. “Yeah, they are. I’m lucky I got out with just some scrapes and bruises,” I tell him coolly. “No thanks to you and your brothers.” Malice’s jaws clenches, a flash of anger darkening his gray eyes. He stalks toward me slowly, not looking away, staring me down the same way a predator watches its prey. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Solnyshka,” he murmurs. “We did everything we could to find you. As soon as we realized you were fucking gone, we all lost our shit. Vic was scrubbing through footage, Ransom and I were trying to track you on foot. Don’t you know that we would have protected you if we could have? We were going out of our fucking minds trying to get to you before Ilya could hurt you.”

“Why the fuck would I stay with people who think I’m worthless? Who fucked me like a whore and treated me like one too? Worse than one, because at least whores get paid. You three just saw me as nothing but a hole to stick your dicks in. You used me. You lied to me. Of course I couldn’t stay there. Why the fuck would I?”

“Why are you here?” I demand again, turning around to face him. “This thing between us is over, don’t you get it? Ilya is dead. There’s no reason for you to be here. There’s no fucking reason for you to be in my life anymore!” “You’re right.” Malice nods once, his gaze never leaving my face. “There’s no reason for me or my brothers to be in your life anymore. We shouldn’t be in your life.” The simple honesty in his voice twists like a dagger in my gut, even though I just said the same thing. I cross my arms over my chest, goosebumps scattering over my skin as I hug myself tightly, clenching my jaw as if that could keep out the pain. “Then go,” I tell him, jerking my chin toward the door. But he doesn’t move. He stays right where he is, rooted to the spot and still staring at me. “There’s no reason for us to be in your life,” he repeats. “Except I can’t fucking stay away.” My breath hitches, my mouth falling open slightly. “What are you—” “I’ve been watching you all week,” he continues, stepping toward me. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself.”

They may not think I’m trash, but they treated me like an object.

ME: Do you think it’s possible to love someone when you know they’re not good for you?

“Who was that man you were talking to?” I don’t exactly mean for it to come out like an accusation, but it does anyway. There’s a hard edge to my voice, agitation still churning under my skin. “It’s none of your business,” Willow whispers back, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead. “That’s not true.” Her scent invades my nostrils as I breathe her in, and it feels like a fucking drug. My voice drops low as I add, “Everything about you is my business. It became my business when you begged for my cock. When you let me put my mark on you.” She goes even more tense as she takes in those words, and I can almost feel it when she swallows hard. She doesn’t turn to look at me, and her fingers curl against the thick marble railing like she needs to hold on to something. “Yeah, well, I’ve been looking into tattoo removal,” she mutters.

“Listen to me. There’s nothing wrong with you,” he says emphatically. “You don’t have to believe anything else my brothers or I say, but believe that. If you want to be in this life, to be a part of this world, then they’d be fucking lucky to have you.” He hesitates for a second, shaking his head like he’s debating whether or not to say more. Finally, he continues on. “But you shouldn’t let anyone try to change you. You shouldn’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not already good enough. Because you are. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. And the sweetest. You’ve held onto your kindness, even when the world has no right to expect that from you. You’re already perfect.”

“Do you ever wish you had a life where you didn’t get hurt so often?” I whisper. Malice huffs, making a noise in his throat. “Nah. I don’t know how I’d function if I had a quiet life like that. How the hell would I know I was alive if I didn’t brush up against death every once in a while?”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to memories of you,” he groans. “But nothing… nothing could ever compare to the real thing.”

“You keep looking at me like that, pretty girl, and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

VICTOR: You’re beautiful.

“You’ve watched me with your brothers twice now,” I tell him, switching my gaze from one camera to another. “This time… I want the show to be just for you.”

“I want to hear your voice, Vic,” I whisper. “Not just read your texts. Will you call me?”

“Beautiful,” I murmur. “Such beautiful chaos. Like a butterfly.”

“I am so sick of your non-answers and your lies. The way you avoid telling me anything, avoid letting me in, but then show up whenever you need my help. That’s not fair. It’s bullshit!”

And they didn’t tell me. Because of course they didn’t. They never tell me anything until it’s too late.

“Don’t act so fucking surprised. You’ve known from the beginning what kind of men we are,” he mutters angrily. “If you can’t handle that, fine. But we never lied to you about who we are. Unlike you, who’s been lying to yourself about who you are since the day I fucking met you.” It’s like a slap in the face to hear that, and I take a step back, stung. I have enough trouble with the constant war going on in my head, caught between what I want and what I feel like I should want. I remember Ransom telling me that I’m a bad girl, trying too hard to pretend to be good, and it feels more like a condemnation than a teasing comment now. I swallow hard, my own hands curling into fists. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I say coldly. “But I’m done being lied to. Next time, just leave me out of this. If you can’t even be honest with me, then don’t come asking me for any more favors.” With that, I turn on my heel, storming out before Malice can say anything else. My emotions are a churning mess, and I practically throw myself into my car and drive home as fast as I can. As if that will somehow help me leave it all behind.

“You don’t know anything. And you have no right to tell me what to do. I don’t belong to you or your brothers, so you can all just butt out!” Malice makes a noise in his throat, low and rough. He stalks toward me slowly, making my heart beat harder with every step he takes. “You’re wrong about that,” he says evenly. “You’re ours.” I shake my head, my hair shifting around my shoulders. Tears burn in my eyes, and my chest aches as I force out the words. “I don’t want to be. I don’t want to belong to you if you lie to me and treat me like a pawn.”

“You’re not a pawn,” he tells me, his voice lowered. “You never have been. You’re a fucking queen. You’re the only person in this whole goddamned world who could bring me to my knees. The only person who’s ever crawled inside my soul.”

It’s black and short, with a slit up one side, and even though the top is more modest, it will definitely show off the scars on my leg when I walk. “Here,” he says. “Put this on.” I make a face, wrinkling my nose. “I forgot I even bought that. It’s… a little revealing, don’t you think?” Vic just raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to explain. “It’ll show my scars. I’m not sure if that’s the one.” “You’ll look beautiful,” Vic says. He doesn’t say it the way Ransom would, all charm and flirtatiousness. With Victor, it’s just open honesty. He says it like it’s a statement of fact, and it stops me in my tracks, making me swallow hard.

“Jesus. Only the two of you would have this much sexual tension while standing several feet apart, fully clothed.”

“Everything I ever did was for you. Everything I did was to try to keep a roof over our heads and food in the fridge. I don’t know why you hate me so much for that. For trying to take care of you.” It’s the same song and dance, and I try to harden my heart against it. Every time I get close to cutting her off or telling her we’re done, she comes up with some way to keep me here. To keep me thinking that she cares about me and she’s done all of this for me instead of her own selfish ends. “Stop lying!” I shout. “Just for once, stop lying to me. Olivia offered to pay for your rehab. What about that? What about how you said you were going to get clean?” She rolls her eyes, resting her hands on her hips. “I told her no. I don’t need some hoity toity bitch who doesn’t know the first thing about me telling me what I have to do. She could’ve just given me the money and I would have used it to get clean. But I’m not going to be treated like a child.” My hands curl into fists at my sides, and I can hear the blood rushing in my head. “You always have an excuse, don’t you?” I whisper, my eyes burning. “So many fucking excuses. So much bullshit. People try to help you, and you throw it back in their faces.” “Don’t talk to me like that.” Misty scowls. “I’m still your mother.” “God, stop! Just stop it. I’ve given you so many chances. Even after everything you’ve done! You’ve lied to me, you’ve stolen from me, you’ve let me get hurt. But I’m always fucking there for you! When you’re pass...

“I took care of you,” she says, her voice turning a bit plaintive as she takes a step forward. “Without me, you’d be in foster care somewhere.” “Yeah? Well, maybe that would’ve been better,” I say, my voice cold and hard. “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to spend my childhood babysitting an adult who could never keep her shit together. But you know what, Mom? I’m finished. I don’t want you in my life anymore. I’m done cleaning up your messes and playing damage control. I’m just done. And you know what? It’s not because I finally found a real blood relative. It’s because you’ve always been a horrible excuse for a mother.”

“Sometimes… sometimes I still feel like I don’t belong in my grandmother’s world. Olivia has done so much for me, so much to make me feel welcome, but there’s always a part of me that just feels like I don’t fit there.”

My eyes lock with Victor’s, and when he reaches out to swipe a tear away from my cheek with a single knuckle, I shudder, grinding harder against Malice. It’s so little, just a barely there touch. But it means so fucking much.

“It’s okay to mourn for someone who doesn’t deserve it,” I tell her, settling at the table beside her. “To feel the hole they left in your life. Your mother was a constant, in a way. And now that constant is gone.”

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” she says, her voice firm in the dimly lit kitchen. “I think you’re so strong. I think you’re amazing, Vic. Your father was horrible to you, and you’re still here. You’re smart and resilient, and it always seems like there’s nothing you can’t do. You shouldn’t have had to go through all that, but you’re not a freak and you’re not broken.”

Her mouth is right there, and I can’t resist, pressing my lips to hers softly. The reaction is instantaneous. Sensations explode inside me, overwhelming and powerful. I can feel Willow’s breath against my lips as she kisses me back, and when she makes a soft noise in the back of her throat, I tug her roughly closer. I surge to my feet, standing up so suddenly that my chair nearly topples over as I pull her up with me. My fingers dig into her skin, as if now that I’ve touched her, I’ll never be able to let her go. I kiss her harder, nearly bowing her backward with the force of it, slipping my tongue into her mouth and tasting syrup and peanut butter and the intoxicating flavor of Willow herself. I can’t get enough. It all goes to my head… and straight down to my cock. It’s a hard, throbbing line in my pants, and I groan against her lips, only pulling away long enough to suck in small snatches of air. Her arms wrap around me, her delicate fingers sliding over my shoulders, the muscles of my back, my neck... And it’s too much. The surge of arousal coursing through me peaks in a sudden, uncontrollable rush. My hips jerk, my cock swelling and pulsing as I come in my pants, wetness soaking the front of my boxer briefs. I rip myself away from her, breathing hard as I stagger backward a step. For a second, Willow and I just stare at each other. My emotions are a riot, out of control. It’s so much. More than I can handle. I can’t take it.

“You never told me what the 24 means,” I murmur, clutching the couch cushion with one hand as the burn of the needle jabbing into me starts up. For a second, I think he’s not going to answer. His eyes are focused, his hand steady as he moves the tattoo gun over my skin. Then he starts to speak. “After that prison gang tried to kill me, I went after their leader and killed him,” he says. It comes out matter-of-fact, and I’m struck all over again by what brutal lives the Voronin brothers have lived. “That’s what saved me in prison. I made a name for myself, made people realize they shouldn’t fuck with me. After I killed him, I spent twenty-four days in solitary. It was fucking awful, but when I got out, people respected me.” “Oh,” I breathe, tightening my grip on the couch. “So that number must mean a lot to you.” He nods. “It’s a symbol of that moment. The day I decided I was never going to be a victim again and took my shit into my own hands.”

“I never wanted a woman to be mine before,” he murmurs gruffly. “Never wanted a woman to be ours. Until I met you.”

“People like that aren’t worth your time,” he says finally. “You’re worth a hundred of her, and you would be even if you didn’t have a penny to your name. I hope you know that.”

So as tempting as it is to say yes to Olivia’s offer… I can’t. I want to build my own life. I want to make something that’s truly mine.

“If they would have simply brought you to me when you were a virgin like I asked, things would have been easier. But alas, your friends seem to be just as willful as you are.” Olivia’s gaze flicks toward the brothers as she speaks, and she smiles, but it doesn’t get anywhere close to her eyes.