“You vow,” Prickett announces. “We vow,” they say in unison, and then he shoves her underwater, where he places his foot on her back, holding her face down to the bottom.
I look back at Gunner, and he’s checking his watch again. “Have somewhere to be?”
“Sarah will be up in about thirty,” he answers.
Ahh, I nod. He’s drugged her, and it’ll be wearing off soon.
I hear the girl gasping as Prickett brings her up from the water, and immediately, he pulls her out and goes to town on her ass. I’ve seen enough Lords take their chosen ones over the last three years that I could go without seeing them anymore. I couldn’t care less who and how they fuck.
Now that I’ve picked mine, I could do without everything else. I want to live in my bedroom with her. Fuck that, I want to move out of the house of Lords and go somewhere remote with her. Just us, no one around for miles. Then I wouldn’t have to gag her, and I could listen to her scream my name for hours.
Prickett and his girl finish up, and he pulls her out of the water while she sobs. We make these women think they have a choice to be chosen. But not all are. We are given a list of names that must be chosen before senior year even starts. Manipulation isn’t hard. If you have someone repeatedly tell you how great something is, you eventually want a taste.
One more.
Pulling out my cell, I pull up the live feed on my app. Blake is still in the same spot I left her. Just like I thought she’d be, but it still doesn’t hurt to look. I have ten cameras set up in my room, so I can see her from any angle. Plus, two in my bathroom. The house is littered with them. Every Lord has the same app and chance to watch his chosen one. She’s not struggling. I wouldn’t be surprised if she passed out. It’s been a long day, and I’m about to make it a very long night for her.
“I vow.”
Closing out the app, I drop the phone to my lap and look up at the loft. Matt stands in the water with Ashley. “You vow,” he growls.
I smile. Sorry fucking bastard.
“We vow,” they say, and he grips the back of her neck, shoving her into the water facedown. She struggles, the water splashing around. He’s got her hands zip-tied behind her back, and her ankles are also tied together. There is no rule on how you restrain your chosen one. As long as it’s done. Being held underwater will have anyone fighting, so the restraints help keep them from clawing our faces off. Plus, it’s just another way for us to dominate them. She’s naked, and he’s already put a collar on her.
I sit up straighter when he continues to hold her underwater. He’s baring his teeth like he’s mad at her. As if it’s her fault he fucked up and lost his toy.
She slows down, her body going slack altogether. What the fuck …？ I jump to my feet. “Matt!” I shout in warning.
Everyone in the cathedral turns to look at me. I can’t see their faces because of their masks, but I’m sure their eyes are wide. A Lord never tells another member how to treat his chosen one. Matt gives me a go to hell look and then yanks her up from the water by her hair. Her head hangs back, and she’s completely still for a second before she spits water from her mouth. Sucking in a breath, she proceeds to cough.
Being a Lord isn’t about harming our chosen ones. They are a reward. If you break it or kill it, you don’t get to replace it with another one. He knows this.
Not going to say it’s never happened because it has. More than once since I’ve joined. These women go down as missing persons and are never looked for. When the public isn’t even aware your organization exists, no one suspects you committed the crime.
I turn and walk out of the cathedral, going back to play with Blakely. My cell rings when I fall into my car. “Hello?” I answer, letting the Bluetooth pick it up while I take off down the gravel road.
“Who did you end up with?” my father asks in greeting. He is a Lord. Most members got here because of their bloodline. My son or sons will one day be a Lord and so on. It is something that was not a choice but required of me. But I was more than ready and willing to accept.
“Blakely,” I answer, pulling out onto the road.
“Good job, son,” he says with a heavy breath.
“Did you ever doubt me?” I ask jokingly.
He chuckles. “No. Just make sure you do what needs to be done.”
“Always.”
“I’ll see you this weekend.” He hangs up, satisfied with our chat, and “Everybody Gets High” by MISSIO immediately fills my car.