DIRTY ALPHAS: The Alpha Bad Boy Collection

by Franca Storm

  I nod. “Yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

  He smiles and leads me out of his office.

  “You feel like watching the game with me?” He glances at his Rolex. “It starts in ten minutes.”

  I can’t believe it. We haven’t done that since I was a kid. Before all the disappointment kicked in and we grew apart. This is a major peace offering from father to son here and it’s not lost on me.

  “You got beer?” I ask, grinning at him.

  “I do.”

  “Then I’m in.”

  He laughs and slaps me on the back as we head into the kitchen.

  Chapter 37

  ~Nicki~

  Smiling, I gaze down at my upper left arm. It’s wrapped up right now but knowing that my brand new tattoo is beneath it makes me really happy. It’s a fist with arching black text that reads: It ain’t about how hard you hit.

  Ever since I heard Balboa utter those words to his son in Rocky Balboa, I’ve wanted to incorporate them into a tattoo. It sounds cheesy, but the words spoke to me. I’ve had to get back up after several nasty blows—metaphorical and real—and every time, it’s made me stronger. I haven’t let it break me. And this tattoo is a reminder that I never will. I love it.

  As I make my way back into the waiting room, I’m surprised to see that Chloe isn’t where I left her on one of the three oversized black leather couches by the window. That’s odd.

  I walk up to the counter and pay, both for the tattoo and the tattoo goo they give you to protect and speed up the healing. I hate the healing process. Although not everyone’s skin crusts during it, mine did last time and I’m sure it will again. But it’s well worth it once it heals.

  I’m about to leave when Chloe calls out to me.

  “One second, babe.”

  I spin around and find her also paying at the counter.

  “What did you get?” I ask.

  As she makes her way over to me, she sticks out her tongue and I can’t help the shriek that erupts from me when I see the silver stud there. “No way!”

  She grins. “Yes way. How hot is this, huh?”

  “Holy shit. A tongue piercing?”

  “Imagine what I can do with this?”

  I screw up my face. Urgh. Gross.

  She wraps her arm around me and leads me out of the shop. “Nicki, you’re such a prude.”

  “I am not a prude!” I fire back.

  “Yeah? Then tell me something,” she challenges.

  “Like what?”

  “Anything about sex.”

  I think for a moment. My only sexual experiences have been with John and I’m not talking or thinking about him right now. We’re in a fight and I’m trying to remain strong. So, he’s off topic. So, it’ll have to be something about Chloe’s sex life. Aha! There is something I’ve actually been curious about for a while.

  “Um, well, is it true…about Mitch?”

  “Say it,” she presses.

  Oh my God. I can feel my cheeks warming just thinking about it. “You already know what I’m gonna say.”

  “I know, but I’m not gonna answer until I hear the actual words.”

  “Argh! You’re infuriating.” I struggle to get out the words, “Does he…is his…dick…really pierced?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow! Does it feel weird?”

  Her eyes light up. “It feels amazing. So much so, that I hit on one of the guys in that tattoo place. Has his dick pierced too. We’re going out in a few days. He’s gonna let me go to town on that. And…” she pokes her tongue out, flashing her stud, “I’m gonna try this out.”

  We both burst out laughing.

  Wow, being with Chloe really brightens up everything around me. I’ve always held back with her before. She’s so free and she’s really experienced when it comes to sex. And, until a little while ago, I’d never even had sex, so I was always self-conscious around her. But now everything is different. I feel…freer now. And she’s right. I can talk about it with her now.

  I touch the bandage on my arm and my smile fades. I want to show John my new tattoo. He’d get it right away. He knows me so well. But I can’t. He won’t apologize and I’m sure as hell not going to. I really miss him, but I don’t want him to think he can get away with flirting with all his groupies when we’re supposed to be together.

  Stay strong, Nicki. Don’t think about him.

  Chapter 38

  ~John~

  I glance at the shit all over the kitchen table. Junk food everywhere. It looks like Mitch is having a movie night.

  “What’s all this for?” I ask him as he walks into the kitchen.

  “Shit, sorry, I didn’t think you were gonna be back until later. You said you were hanging with your dad again?”

  Yeah, ever since our talk in his office, we’d broken through all our years of bullshit and we’ve actually been spending some father-son time together recently.

  “Yeah, man. I’ve been gone for most of the day.”

  “Right. Sorry,” he struggles. He looks as uncomfortable as hell. “It’s just…Nicki and Chloe are coming over for movie night.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Chloe and I are trying to get back on track as friends after our slip up. This is my peace offering. She’s bringing Nicki as a buffer.”

  “Oh.” I can’t believe it. She’s been skillfully avoiding me these last few weeks. Ever since I spoke with my dad about her, I realized I needed to be the bigger person and end this shit between us. But she won’t pick up her phone or answer her door. So fucking stubborn! And now, she’s coming here, to my apartment?

  “Look, I’ll cancel it. I really thought you’d be gone all day. If I’d known, I never would’ve—”

  I hold up my hand. “Nah, it’s cool. I’ll go for a drive. Text me when they’re gone, yeah?”

  He nods. “I’m sorry, John. I didn’t mean—”

  “Mitch. It’s fine. Really,” I say, reaching for my jacket.

  I feel his hand on my arm suddenly. “You got new ink? I wanna see.”

  I pull my arm away.

  “Come on. Don’t be a pussy about it.”

  “Fine,” I grumble turning so he can get a look.

  He gasps as he sees what it is. “What the hell? When did you get this?”

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  “A couple of weeks ago? The day your dad basically told you to drop out of school?”

  “Simple way of putting it, but yeah. I’ve just had it covered up waiting on it to heal and shit. It’s why you didn’t see it until now. Why?”

  “It’s around the same time Nicki got new ink. Man, you guys are alike. You clearly even think alike.”

  “She got another tattoo?”

  I wanna know what she got, but Mitch distracts me by grabbing my arm again and scrutinizing my new tattoo.

  “Yeah. Listen, stay and show her yours when she gets here. She takes just one look at that and it’ll fix everything between you guys.”

  “Nah.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Because.”

  He shakes his head. “Listen, your normal avoidance bullshit isn’t gonna work here, man. You gotta deal with this head on. I know you hate drama. Me too. But it is what it is.”

  “Yeah, I get that now. It’s not that. I don’t want our drama ruining your peace offering for Chloe. I already fucked you over once, right?” Not to mention, the last thing I want is Chloe around when me and Nicki get into this bullshit. I just know she’ll interfere like usual and make me come off as a total dick and rile Nicki up. It’s hard enough getting her calm when we’re in a fight as it is. Nah, not the right situation to sort our shit out in. I shrug on my jacket. “See you later.”

  “Okay, dude.”

  My phone starts buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans. I stop before I make it out of the kitchen and pull it out. I don’t even check the number before I answer.

  “John here. What? He’s where? When? Yeah…of course…I’ll keep a
n eye out. Uh…thanks.”

  “Fucking hell,” I breathe as I pocket my phone.

  “John? What’s wrong?”

  I must look how I feel; white as a fucking sheet. A rush of adrenaline rips through me.

  And right then, the stupid fight that’s been going on for the last three weeks between us doesn’t matter for shit. I don’t even need to second guess it as I hurriedly dial Nicki’s cell number. It rings and rings and rings. She’s not picking up! Right, because she’s mad at me. Dammit!

  “You know where she is?”

  “Nicki?”

  “Who else, Mitch?” I snap.

  “Down on campus picking up some ice-cream. Didn’t trust me to do it myself. Claimed I’d pick up the wrong one.”

  “Shit. I have to go. Now.”

  “What? Where?”

  “I just got a call from one of my dad’s guys. Greg’s on campus.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. I gotta go. Now!” I say as I bolt through the apartment.

  ***

  “Dammit,” I mutter.

  The ice-cream tub is freezing my hands. I’m such an idiot. I should’ve just paid for a plastic bag to carry it. Me and my stupid principles. Refusing to fork over a few cents for a grocery bag. I’m too hard-headed sometimes.

  I make my way across campus towards the path through the little parkette that leads to the main road where I can hail a cab to take me back to my apartment building. I’m really looking forward to our movie marathon tonight.

  “Nicola!” a voice calls out.

  It sounds familiar. My body reacts immediately as my mind struggles to play catch up. White-hot adrenaline rips through me suddenly. A serious warning. Instinctively, I pull my leather jacket closed over my tank top—a defensive reaction—as I turn around.

  Fucking hell.

  Greg.

  My breath hitches. My adrenaline levels spike even more and my entire body starts shaking as though I’ve suddenly caught a chill. But there’s no physical chill in the air. It’s a warm late afternoon.

  My brain is trying to rationalize what my eyes are seeing—who they’re seeing. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? But my body won’t cooperate to do either. It won’t move.

  I’m frozen.

  “What…what are you doing here?” I just about manage to get out.

  He looks me up and down. Just his gaze on me makes me feel dirty and sick to my stomach. I try to avoid those awful black eyes of his; to push the memories of them boring into mine away. The memories of what he did to me.

  His hair is grayer than I remember. It’s a mass of disgusting shoulder-length grease. And he’s wearing that dark green wax jacket he always used to with a pair of dirtied jeans; basically his entire wardrobe.

  “My, my. You’ve grown up good,” he says, that rough, grating voice of his curdling my insides as he zones in on my boobs, lingering there like the sick pervert he is.

  I know I should get the hell away from him, but my feet won’t move. I silently pray for the ground to open up and swallow me away just to escape this; just to end this awful confrontation. It’s the stuff of my nightmares. But I’m not dreaming now. He’s here and no amount of trying to blink him out of existence with my thousand-yard stare is gonna make it a reality.

  He takes a step towards me and I tremble.

  He snickers. “Time to pick up where we left off. And the way you look now….this is gonna be all the sweeter.”

  “Stop,” I say, my voice wavering.

  He ignores me and takes another step closer. “We never did get to finish up last time, Nicola. Time to remedy that, don’t you think?”

  Oh my God.

  It’s been years. I’m stronger now. I can defend myself better than most people. But seeing him here now, it’s like I’ve been transported back to four years ago. I’m that weak little girl again.

  He closes the distance between us and I whimper in terror as he reaches out to touch me.

  But he doesn’t get the chance to make contact as two powerful hands slam into his chest, forcing him away from me.

  John.

  “You don’t fucking touch her!” he thunders at Greg. “Do you hear me, you piece of shit?”

  Greg’s eyes narrow at him. “John,” he seethes. “You and I have some unfinished business.”

  “You’ve violated the restraining orders by coming anywhere near her.”

  Greg scoffs. “Do you really think a piece of paper is gonna keep me from the two of you? I can handle a couple of paper cuts, kid. You two put me in jail. Do you know what it’s like in that hell hole for a guy charged with sexual assault and battery?”

  “Exactly what you deserved.”

  I’m faintly aware of sirens blaring in the distance.

  “Looks like they know you’re here, asshole,” John says.

  “Then we’ll be picking this up later,” Greg says; his parting shot before he takes off quickly.

  I feel John’s hands on me then, pulling me against him. I barely hear his words of comfort; I’m in such deep-rooted shock. I barely even register the cops arriving on the scene. John does all the talking to them. Everything is just a blur of motion and incomprehensible chatter to me.

  It’s not until we arrive back at the apartment somehow that I find myself a little more lucid. How did we even get here? John…he must have driven us home in his truck.

  I’m in John’s arms as he carries me through the door of his place. Mitch is sitting on the opposite couch. He smiles kindly at me, but if he says anything I don’t hear it.

  John doesn’t loosen his tight hold on me. He lowers me onto his lap and I bury my face in his chest as he keeps his arms held protectively around me.

  “It’s okay, Nicki. It’s gonna be okay.”

  Chapter 39

  ~John~

  I storm into the campus pub and scan through the crowds searching for her frantically. After scaring off that shithead, Greg, yesterday and taking Nicki back to my place she’d fallen asleep on the couch. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. I figured she went back to her apartment to get away from me. We’re still in that stupid fight after all. But when I’d knocked on her door a couple of hours ago, she didn’t answer. And I freaked out. Greg’s still out there. It had taken me ages and dozens of text messages to everyone I know on campus to finally locate her.

  My entire body tenses and anger flares up within me as I spot her. Fucking hell. She’s dressed to kill. Damn. The black skirt she’s wearing barely covers her ass and her white top is no better. It’s so low cut that I can see the tops of her red lacy bra. Mmm…lace. At least she’s wearing her leather jacket so that’s something, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, she looks so fucking hot, but looking like that in front of other men is not flying with me. That’s for my eyes only. Christ, Nicki! She’s sitting up at the bar with two preppy assholes all over her. They’re flirting. One of them has their hand on her right thigh. The other is playing with her hair. I can tell right away by her wild gestures that she’s been drinking. Hell, no.

  I storm over there.

  “Let’s go,” I command, ignoring the guys and eyeing her right in front of me.

  “Hey, man. We’re in the middle of something here,” one of the guys, with way too much gel in his hair tells me.

  “Yeah, I can see what you’re in the middle of. Now, back the fuck off.”

  “No, John!” Nicki cries. “We’re having fun. Go away.”

  “Get your ass off that stool now,” I growl at her.

  “No,” she says, pouting at me like a little kid who’s just about to get her candy taken away for bad behavior.

  “Nicki, last chance,” I warn.

  The guys move to say something, but I cut them off by snarling, “She’s mine.”

  They obviously see the wild look in my eyes, because they hold up their hands and back away. Yeah, they know what’s good for them.

  “I’m not…yours,” Nicki tells me, slurring her words. “You’re
every girl’s. Not just mine.”

  “Yes I fucking am. If you’d just listen to me instead of being so stubborn, you’d get that!”

  She shakes her head and turns back to grab her beer on the bar top.

  That’s it! I lunge at her and grab her waist. She squeals as I throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of the bar in a fireman lift. I ignore her slurred protests to put her down.

  By the time I have her buckled into my truck and start the engine, she’s calmed down a bit. I pull out of the parking lot and head back to the apartment.

  “That was fucking stupid, Nicki. Greg’s still out there. What if he found you in this state instead of me?”

  “He’s going to anyway, John. Better that I’m drunk than sober for it. Maybe I won’t remember it this time.”

  “What?”

  Her voice is barely above a whisper as she says, “When he rapes me.”

  Her words rip right through me and before I can stop myself, I’m making a dangerous sharp turn and pulling the truck off the road. I bring it to a rough stop and cut the engine. Nicki gasps in surprise. I unbuckle my seatbelt and rush out of the truck around to the passenger side. I haul open the door and command, “Get out.”

  She’s too shocked to argue and I watch her struggle with her seatbelt in her drunken state before she finally manages it. She stumbles as she gets out.

  As soon as she’s out, I push her against the side of the truck, my hands holding her arms hostage beside her.

  “Listen to me. I stopped him last time around, okay? What makes you think I’d let him do anything to you this time around? He’s not fucking touching you! You got me? No man is gonna lay his hands on you, but me!”

  She shakes her head back and forth. Tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m scared.”

  “You’re stronger now. No one can hurt you now.”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  I shake her. “You do know! You do!”

  It takes a while, but she finally nods slowly and bites her lip. “Okay.”

  “Tell me what you need to put you at ease.”

  “I…will you…train me?”