Knocked Up and Punished

by Penelope Bloom

  I grab a biscuit, not caring that it’s so hot it burns and take a bite out of it that’s so big my cheek puffs out like a squirrel stashing nuts for winter. “Stupid men,” I say through a thick mouthful of food.

  More like stupid me, though. I already made an appointment to get tested for STDs this morning, because I was reckless enough to let him inside me without a condom. It was so easy to justify in the moment. My brain felt like it was floating on a cloud of white light, like the real world was miles and miles away. I told myself the chances of getting pregnant or catching something were so minimal, that I’d regret it if I stopped him and made him find a condom. Now that sunlight is pouring through the windows? I feel like the world’s biggest idiot. He could’ve gotten me pregnant, for all I know. And if what Kyle said about him is true, there’s no way I could let a guy like that into my life, let alone my baby’s.

  My baby.

  Excitement mingles with a strong, strong dose of anxiety, making me feel so nauseous I can barely swallow down the huge bite of biscuit I took. I made my choice, however reckless it was. But if by some cruel twist of fate, I am carrying his baby? I owe it to myself and my potential unborn child to go back to the club and ask questions. My decision to continue working at the club or not just became an easy one. I need to know if there is any truth to what Kyle said about Jayce.

  4

  Jayce

  The music of the club pounds through the air, ringing in my ears and vibrating in my chest, but I hardly notice. Ever since last night, my mind has been laser focused on one thing and one thing alone. My princess. Miley. I probably should be embarrassed that I had to dig that up in the club’s employee records, but fuck it. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I wanted to know her name.

  I’ve spent my whole life searching for the right woman. For years, it felt like something was wrong with me. Every relationship seemed shallow and pointless. Sex felt like a stiff exercise, an obligation, even. Then I happened to learn about my older brother Leo’s interest in BDSM. I wondered if maybe that was the missing piece, if maybe the reason I never seemed content with my relationships was because they weren’t the right kind.

  So I dove in. It felt right for the first time, like the world resonated with me. The only problem was I quickly developed a sense for what I wanted in a submissive. The bigger problem was as much as I knew there was something specific I was waiting for, I couldn’t put it into words. It was just a knowing that nothing and no one was living up to my desires. It became a dull ache in my chest, a longing that never seemed to go away or subside. I tried a few relationships after I stepped into the world of BDSM, but nothing was ever right.

  Then I saw Miley last night. It was like the fucking room stood still, like everything stopped mattering in that moment except making her mine--completely and totally. I knew there wasn’t anything to stop me from taking her, from showing her the power of what we could have together. I just wish I had the self-control to use a condom. I’ve always told myself I never wanted kids. My mom got sick shortly after she had me and passed away. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve always blamed myself, like bringing me into this world is what killed her, or at the very least what weakened her enough that she couldn’t fight.

  If I got Miley knocked up, I’d be scared to death something would happen to her. As much as I might want to become a father, I wouldn’t ever risk the woman I love for such a selfish reason. I couldn’t survive having everything I want snatched away because of me.

  Letting her leave was the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time, but it was the right move. I could see the pain of Miley’s past etched in her eyes. I saw how she’s put her trust in the wrong men and had that trust betrayed, how she’s been abused, taken advantage of, and forgotten. She needs to understand that she’s free. I can’t snare her with force. The only way is to let her realize for herself how badly she wants to be mine, to be owned by me.

  So I have to wait. And now the wait is almost over, because she’ll be coming in for her shift in a couple hours. But I don’t plan to let her get much work done.

  The club is busier than usual tonight, but I spot Miley’s brother, Kyle, as he comes through the front. He’s tall and built like he might have been a football player in high school or college. He notices me and changes directions, heading straight for me.

  “Jayce--ah, Mr. Carlyle,” he says, correcting himself but not sounding sorry for the disrespectful slip. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  I size Kyle up, taking in the set of his eyes and his posture, doing my best to measure what kind of man he is. I can see that he probably looks after his sister, but there’s something else I sense about him--something I’m not sure I like. “About?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation. Let him see that I don’t like him. I’ll get a better sense of what kind of man he is than if I fake a smile and shake his hand.

  “My sister.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “She’s already in a relationship. His name is Cade.”

  “Not anymore. She broke things off with him. She told me as much last night.”

  Kyle nods his head, laughing humorlessly. “Yeah, I bet she did,” he leans close like he’s letting me in on a secret. “Look. I love my little sister, but she’s trouble. She likes to watch guys fight over her. She’ll say whatever she has to, and then her real boyfriend will show up one day with a baseball bat when you’re not expecting it.” Kyle mimics swinging a bat at my legs.

  I want to believe he’s lying. I want to believe it down to my fucking core, but a hairline fracture of doubt splits my certainty that I’ve found the perfect woman. I know I won’t act on his words. She deserves more than that, way fucking more. Whatever he says. But I can feel the slight doubt wriggling its way deep into my mind where it will be nearly impossible to pull free.

  “Fuck off,” I growl. “You think you’re protecting her by talking shit about her? You should be fucking ashamed.”

  An emotion I can’t place flickers across Kyle’s face, but it’s gone in an instant. “I’m looking out for her. I don’t want to see her get into any more trouble. Or get any more innocent guys hurt,” he adds before turning to walk over to the bar.

  I wait with white-knuckled impatience for Miley to show up for her shift, but when twenty minutes have passed and she still hasn’t shown up, my instincts tell me something’s wrong.

  I pull out my phone as I push my way to the exit and jog to the parking lot. I call the general manager who runs the accounts and payroll for the club and tell him I need Miley’s address to send over a package that showed up at the club. He reads it off without question.

  I hang up the phone before jumping into my car. I may come barging into her place and make a total idiot out of myself, but she’s either missing work because something wrong, or she’s avoiding me. Either way, I’m going to find out.

  5

  Miley

  “You need to leave,” I say for what feels like the twentieth time.

  I’m standing in the kitchen next to the drawer full of knives and Cade is on the other side of the counter. His hair is disheveled and his eyes look a little bloodshot, but the worst part is the smell. I was only with him a few months, but I quickly learned to associate the smell of booze with danger, and right now it’s wafting to me even from several feet away. I still can’t believe I thought he was handsome when we first met. But I guess I should know how even the worst men can put on a clean shirt, comb their hair, and flash a charming smile for a few hours--just long enough to lure me in.

  “I’m not going to fucking leave without you,” he says.

  “Yes, you are.” My voice is as slow and controlled as I can manage. It feels like I’m trying to talk down a wild animal and even the slightest provocation could be deadly. But I’m not letting him intimidate me into going with him. He’s going to find out what’s in the goddamn drawer behind me if he tries anything.

  “Miley. I know I fucked up,” he says. He
looks at me with a pathetic attempt at puppy-dog eyes, but to me it just looks grotesque, like some kind of monster putting on a mask--nothing in the expression is quite right, almost like it’s practiced and forced. “If you give me another chance I can be better to you.”

  “Another chance?” I ask, voice breaking. The emotion that wells up so suddenly isn’t for Cade. Fuck him. It’s for all the time I’ve wasted with men like him. All the unlucky circumstances and poor decisions up until this point. Maybe it took the worst one of them all to finally wake me up and make me realize I need to change. “Another chance to kick the shit out of me? To beat me? To abuse me?”

  “Careful,” he says, dropping the mask of false sorrow so that the cruelty I came to know from him is front-and-center. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, but if you’re going to be a fucking bitch, well, I know how to get you in line.”

  I open the drawer behind me and yank a knife free, pointing it toward him. “I swear to God. If you come anywhere near me, I’ll do everything in my power to kill you. I swear it,” I promise.

  Amusement lights his eyes. “Everything in your power? You mean jack shit?”

  He takes a few slow steps around the counter, coming toward me. I sidestep, trying to use the counter to keep him as far away from me as possible as we both circle it. We change directions, and the amusement on his face turns to frustration. “You think this is a goddamn game?” He lunges forward, clearing half the counter and putting himself within grabbing distance of me and the knife.

  I take a wild swing, missing his hand by inches so that the knife clinks off the countertop and sends a nasty vibration through my hand. I’m two steps toward the door to the hallway outside when someone knocks so hard on the door it sounds like thunder.

  “Miley!” calls a deep voice from outside. “Are you in there? Miley!”

  “Help!” I shout, but it’s all I have time to do before Cade catches me from behind, pinning my arms to my side.

  With a loud crash, the door swings open, breaking off its hinges a split second later. I’ve never been as relieved to see someone in my life as I am to see Jayce push his way inside with those gray eyes somehow seeming as hot as fire.

  He assesses the situation in a fraction of a second, faster than Cade’s drunken mind can apparently keep up with, and takes one long step toward me before throwing a lightning-fast punch directly into Cade’s nose.

  His grip on me goes slack, letting me rush away from him and go to the wall. I turn quickly, holding my knife up in case Cade tries to come for me again. But he’s already on the ground, lifting his head dizzily and holding his bloody nose. Jayce towers over him, legs planted wide and fists clenched at his side--clearly sending the message that if Cade decides to get up again, he’ll regret it.

  “You’re Cade?” he asks in a voice that sends a chill through me.

  “Fuck you, asshole.” Cade’s voice is thick with what sounds like a broken nose and a mouthful of blood.

  Jayce kneels beside Cade, showing no sign of fear at all. Though I guess a man like Jayce has nothing to fear from Cade. It doesn’t take much strength to abuse a woman, especially one who makes the mistake of entrusting her submission to the wrong person. I see that more clearly now that the two men are side by side. Cade looks weak, pathetic, and frail. Jayce is thick with power and confidence, making Cade look like a small boy by comparison.

  “I saw what you did to her,” Jayce says. His voice is calm and frighteningly quiet. He hasn’t said a single threatening word yet, but the promise of violence is so clear in his tone that I have to fight my instincts to squeeze my eyes shut.

  “I saw the bruises,” he continues. “The first I saw was here,” he says, mercilessly planting a punch to Cade’s eye. Cade’s head snaps back and bounces off the floor. He groans, pulling his hands up to cover his face.

  A confusing mixture of sympathy and disgust fills me. Cade is as defenseless against Jayce as I was against him, and as much as I’ve prayed for this moment, to see him get what he deserves and more… it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. I think to how it felt to be hit like that and know I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. All I really wish is that Cade and men like him would never hurt anyone else. So how can I stand here and feel good about watching him get beat senseless?

  “Jayce…” I say. “It’s enough, it’s--”

  “The second was here,” says Jayce, who pulls back his leg and kicks Cade hard in the ribs.

  Cade folds in on himself, squirming and groaning. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

  “Jayce!” I shout, dropping the knife and running to pull back on him, to stop this before he ends up killing Cade.

  Jayce turns on me suddenly, and for a moment it’s like he’s not even there--I only see wild rage in his eyes. But in a few moments, he seems to wrestle back some control, features softening as he looks me over, putting his hands to my cheeks, my shoulders, my sides--searching me for any sign of injury.

  “I’m okay, Jayce. He only grabbed me.”

  “You’re sure?” he asks.

  “I’m sure. Thanks to you,” I say.

  Jayce turns to look at Cade again, and I see some of the inhuman anger start to creep back into his features. I take him by the cheeks and turn his face to mine, standing on my tiptoes I kiss him. It’s the first thing I can think of to stop him from exacting more revenge on Cade, but even as the passion of the moment threatens to sweep me away, I know I’ve made a mistake. I can practically feel Cade’s eyes burning into us. When I pull back from the kiss, Cade has already shuffled toward the door, face bloody and hands clutching at his side.

  “I’m not done,” he says before stepping over the broken door and into the hallway.

  “I could kill him,” Jayce says lightly.

  I look at him in disbelief until I realize he’s joking.

  He flashes a half-smile back at me. “Sorry. Too soon?”

  “Yes,” I say with a small laugh. “How did you know I was in trouble?”

  “You didn’t show up for work. I was waiting all day for you to come, then…” He looks slightly uncomfortable for the first time since we’ve met. Jayce clears his throat before he frowns at me, clearly searching for the right way to ask a difficult question. “You and Cade,” he says finally. “Had you really ended things before last night? Before what we did?”

  “Yes…” I say slowly, not understanding why he would ask me something like that. “I told you I did.”

  He nods, but there’s a strange look on his face.

  “Wait,” I say. “Did you talk to Kyle?” I’ve made a habit of keeping the identity of my boyfriends a secret from Kyle in the past, because he has a bad habit of making up stories to sabotage my relationships. Now, seeing the way Jayce is looking at me and the fact that he questioned what I told him last night has me wondering if Kyle is back to his old crap.

  “I did.”

  “Wow,” I say slowly. “What he said about you was probably a lie, too.” I’m talking more to myself at this point.

  “What?” asks Jayce.

  “He said you were charged with human trafficking a few years ago. He was obviously hoping it would spook me into staying away.”

  “Did it?”

  I tilt my head, considering. “Maybe a little,” I admit. “But I was going to ask around at work tonight. And then…”

  “ “And then,” he prompts

  “What did Kyle tell you?” I ask, changing the direction of our conversation.

  “It’s not important. I would’ve only really believed it if I heard it from you.”

  “That’s a lot of trust to put in a stranger,” I say with a small smile.

  “You didn’t feel like a stranger when I was fucking that tight little pussy of yours.”

  I look away guiltily. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  He steps closer, putting his hand on my arm. I hate how the simplest touch from him seems to blast away all my well-laid plans to stay away. “Whatev
er you need, I’ll give it. Just ask.”

  I shake my head, looking down at our feet, wishing I had a magical crystal ball that tells me the right answers. Whether or not I should trust this man when every single time I’ve ever trusted a man, it’s led to me getting hurt--Kyle included. “How do I know it’ll be different?” I ask.

  I think I might have to explain more, but I can see from the look on Jayce’s face that he understands. “Because you feel what I feel,” he says softly. “You do. I can see it in your eyes, princess.”

  I look away, feeling like meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds is dangerous. Looking into those stormcloud gray eyes is like wading out into a riptide. Where every second I stare into them is another step deeper and deeper, until I can feel the tug of the current at my waist, threatening to pull me so deep I’ll be swept away.

  Right now, that scares me more than anything. “Maybe I feel something. But I’ve trusted my feelings before, and look where that got me,” I say, motioning to the few drops of blood on the carpet where Cade was lying.

  “One date,” he says. “Give me just one date. You pick the place, the time, everything. If you still feel uneasy after it’s over, then you gave it a shot and you won’t look back and ask yourself if you made a mistake passing this up.”

  “Passing this up?” I ask with a grin. “Passing you up, you mean?”

  He shrugs. “Sounded better my way.”

  I laugh, then shake my head and sigh. “Please don’t make me regret this.”

  “Not a chance, princess. Just tell me when, and you’re going to have the night of your life.”

  I can’t help smiling a little, because the idea that pops into my head is too perfect to pass up.

  6

  Jayce

  When Miley insisted on driving separately to meet at the place she picked, I wasn’t sure what to think. It was only yesterday that I punched out her sleazy ex, but it already feels like I’ve been waiting weeks to see her again. As much as I’m dying to get her back into the club, or better yet--my personal play room, I know that’s not what she needs. Not quite yet, at least. She needs to see that this isn’t another mistake, and I’ll be damned if I don’t prove it to her.