by Grace, Hazel
___
I’m alone again in the basement, where I prefer it from now on. After I lunged at Paige, while in my chair, they moved her somewhere else. And I hope it was down a dark and deep hole. When Levin’s two men tore us apart, Wyatt was already gone. And I was scared and happy about it. I’d never be able to look him in the face while my best friend, the one that I bragged about so much with him, just indicted me as the murder for his sister’s death.
Nothing made sense, none of it. My mom was a killer? She ran an underground prostitution ring? Had an affair with Wyatt’s father. Let’s get real here, it sounds like a badly written movie.
The basement steps squealed that someone was approaching, and Noah’s frame showed up at the bottom of them. He’s holding a plate of food and another water bottle, both things I don’t want right now.
“Hey Nov,” he greets me softly as he kicks the other chair Paige condemned me in closer to me. I don’t answer him, too pissed and scared to speak, so I just stare at him. “You need to eat.”
Back to this shit again.
“Get a reality check,” I shout. “Would you eat if you were just accused of some bullshit?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then get rid of it.” I push my chair back against the cement and avert my stare.
“I need to make it look like I’m doing something so that I can talk to you for a minute,” he replies, using his fork to move the food around.
“About what?”
“About how we need to get you the fuck out of here.” He forks up some mashed potatoes and practically shoves them in my mouth. “Don’t talk because if someone is in that other room, they’re going to think something's up,” he whispers. “Just continue looking defeated as shit and you’ll be fine.”
Taking another fork full of food, I follow his instructions.
“Paige pretty much threw you under the bus, pegged you at the murder scene. Says you’re here to watch Wyatt and Levin before your mother makes her move. What I don’t buy is how Paige knows their sister’s name. Lev thinks he may have said it when he kidnapped her, but something feels off.”
“Join the club,” I mutter.
With another scoop of food, he continues. “Lev is talking to Wyatt about what they are going to do. Last time I checked, they were going to lure your mother in. Using your phone to bring her down here from New York. But Lev is livid pissed, and I think he’s going to convince Wyatt to do something else.”
“Like what?”
He doesn’t answer but keeps feeding me. “I’ve already cut one of your zip ties but don’t tug on it yet.” I freeze but want to test the theory. “You’re going to have to wiggle out of the other set, I see you almost have. I was able to do it while they took Paige out of the room.
“You’re going to wait an hour before you slowly pull your hands out. When you get to the top of the stairs, make a left. At the end of the hallway, make a right. You’ll see the door. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere right now, but Lev keeps his keys in his truck.”
“You want me—”
“Stop talking. And yes, he’s the only fucking idiot that does it.” I shake my head instead of telling him that he is fucking nuts.
“Nova,” he presses. “Levin is going to kill you or worse. Go south down the dirt road, you’ll come to a crossroads, turn right. You’re going to want to hit a city called Thelmas. 174 Rasbin—my mother lives there. Tell her that I sent you, I’ll be there in a few days.”
“No,” I mumble.
“I’ll be fine, Nov.”
“Come with me.”
“You can’t go back to Delpha County,” he cuts in. “The guys are there; one phone call, and they’ll already be waiting for you. Wyatt will have me freeze your bank accounts or withdraw them to keep you penniless.”
“Is he fucking crazy?” I vent, waiting for the words to soak in, but this is like a bad fucking mafia movie.
“Stop talking,” he growls. “And right now, yeah. I’ll follow up with you in a few days. Gotta go.” Noah sounds, straightening and coming around the back of my chair to tie my hands. “One hour.” I dodge the next fork full of food. “If you care for me at all, just do it.”
“I do care,” I undertone. “But this sounds like a suicide mission for you.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He casts his gaze down at me. “You owe me something I’ve wanted for a long time.” I furrow my brows. “Get out of here alive and you’ll see.”
Turning on his heel, he gets to the stairs and disappears in the darkness. The soft click of the door tells me that I have one hour to make a move. The only move I have to play right now.
Sliding down the creaky ladder, I tred back inside the quiet house, needing to confront her. I’m butt hurt right now, as much as it pains me to think it, but she just tore my heart out of my chest. All while she is fucking one of my best men, plotting against me and my brother and murdering my sister.
I didn’t want it to reside in me, and I attempt with all my might to dismiss possible alternatives on Paige’s accusations, but it settled the more Paige talked.
Rora was sent here to keep an eye on us.
She scouted me out to get closer to me.
Reported back to Lydia.
And was just waiting on the “call” to move.
Reaching for the doorknob, I squint my eyes because in my drunken state, it’s got me seeing two of everything right now. I twist the knob and halt mid step to see Rora standing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I bellow, taking a step closer to her. She rears back, careful to stay out of my reach. Smart fucking girl. “Get back downstairs.”
Rora quickly turns around, taking the steps with ease as I follow behind her. The lights are off, but I hear her feet hit the cement floor. Problem is, I have no fucking idea where the light switch is in this dump so I can see her face to face as I spill out my findings.
“Turn the lights on,” I order, making it to the bottom and feeling the wall for a switch.
I’m rammed forward from the force of an object, shoving me to my knees—thanks to the tequila. Footsteps scurry up the stairs again, and I’m stunned for a moment that she just hit me to take me down.
But that makes the whole heartless killer thing set in a little more.
Pushing myself up, I climb the stairs, using my hands to help balance me as I hear the front door close, knowing I only have moments before she either sprints across the moonlit field or she’s going to get lucky with Levin’s truck. Which is conveniently the first car she is going to come to, parked right next to the house. I clear the front door and hear the ignition buzz as Rora starts up the truck. I sprint toward it, seeing the white reverse lights illuminate off my car.
The truck kicks back dirt as she hits the gas, moments after my hand clutches the rear view mirror. My shoes skid across the dirt while she whips the truck around, my hip slamming into the door. Kicking the car in drive, I reach for the door handle, pulling it open.
“Wyatt, let go,” she yells, surprising me by not hitting the gas and sending me on my ass.
“Get out of the car, Rora,” I growl, latching my arm around the rolled-down window portion of the door. She taps the gas harder, sending the door snapping shut. I’d reach for her, but I’m afraid I might lose my grip and slide off the truck, so I don’t.
The speedometer reads twenty-five miles per hour, but I’m gambling on how much time I really have before she really tries to lose me. Glancing over at the bed of the truck, I estimate my chances of being able to loop my leg over the edge of the truck bed. It doesn’t look good, and it’s another gamble.
“Last chance,” she advises, making the truck speed up. I fumble my arm inside the car, trying to reach for the door handle to open it again, and that’s when she starts to roll the window up. Bracing myself on the side of the truck, I pull the lever, opening the door again, while my arm is being raised in the air.
“You trying to kill me?” I ask. I have two options, drop off and chase her down with my car or lunge again.
Knowing I’m about to get us both killed, I lunge for the steering wheel with my free hand, sending the truck to the left, skidding the tires along the gravel. Rora pulls it in the opposite direction, straightening out the truck when I yank on it again. That’s when she slams on the brakes, banging the side of my head against the side mirror. I don’t feel a sting, but due to my buzz, I know I’ll feel it later.
Grounding my feet to the ground, I jerk the door open, grasping her shirt and leaning in to put the truck in park. Rora elbows the back of my neck and brings her knee up to catch my chin. She hits her mark, and I’m about ten seconds from ripping her out of this truck by her damn hair.
Biting my tongue, I wrench back, tugging her out of the car. She stumbles, hitting her knees on the ground and throwing all her weight under my muscles.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” I yell, bringing her to stand.
“Let go of me,” she hollers, attempting to lurch away from me. I haul her close to me, crushing her chest to mine to get a better grip on her.
“You’re staying with me, you damn trouble fucking maker. How the hell did you get free?”
“A fucking fairy came down and let me out.” Rora kicks my shin, and I stifle back a moan. The little monster I’ve been wanting to break free for weeks now is finally wanting to come out and play but definitely at the wrong time.
“Sure, you didn’t fuck your way out of it?” I growl back, pulling her toward the back of the truck.
My envy creeps back in, followed by memories of her underneath me, moaning my name from her sweet lips. All while she was doing the same thing to Beast. I clench my eyes closed, trying to wipe them away, but her skin along my palm does nothing to help.
“The hell does that mean?” Rora shot back. I turn on my heel, wanting to see the look in her eyes when I unleash what I found. What she lied to me about and led me to believe—that she was mine.
All fucking mine.
“You said Beast and you weren’t a thing,” I sneer.
“We weren’t.” She yanks her arm so hard that I feel like she is going to pull it out of its
socket.
I clench my teeth. “I found the text messages in your phone. How good it felt for him, how nice your pussy felt around his dick while he fucked you.”
“You’re out of your mind. We didn’t—”
“Stop fucking lying to me. I know how to read. I saw it, seethed at it because all this time I’m thinking that it was just you and—”
“It was you and me,” she seethes. “Now we’re not shit.”
I jerk a to stop, smelling the faint scent of her shampoo. “No? Because right now it looks like I’m calling the fucking shots right now.”
“Then kill me right now, Wyatt, because I’m not going back to the basement. I’m not going back to your crazy ass brother who thinks it’s fun to smack me around.” I take a better look at the bruises on her check. The dark purple shades along her skin and under her eye. Glancing down at her hand, that gripped my forearm, I see dark red blotches of blood around her wrists. Her fingers are dark, not creamy white like I remember them being.
My blood begins to boil, I didn’t know Lev went to see her, I ordered the fucker not to. Another fucking reason for me to beat the living shit out of Beast. I told him to watch my brother, keep him out of the basement. This turned into the biggest failure and disappointment of my life, and I’m ready to just knock the hell out of everyone.
“He won’t touch you again,” I tell her, wanting to graze my thumb along those bruises.
Guilt eats at me, but it shouldn’t be there. I don’t know if she deserves it or not. Even if she did what Lev thinks she did, my heart latches on to her.
“He said you knew he was down there,” she retorts.
I shake my head. “I didn’t know.”
“Yeah,” she hisses. “Apparently, I didn’t know a lot of fucking things too.”
I raise a brow. “Such as?”
Rora narrows her brows. “That you were in prison.”
“Not something you go walking around and telling everyone.”
“No, you just wanted me to bear my heart and soul to you without getting the truth back from you.”
I point to my chest. “I never lied about anything. You fucking did.”
“I haven’t lied about shit. I’m being set up.”
“From who? An invisible man named Jerry?” Rora lets out a harsh breath, then surprises me by punching my cheek.
Full fisted, bare knuckles hits me.
Turning my head back toward her, she shows no remorse.
Her brows are snapped together as she glowers at me. “Fuck you.”
Seizing her bottom jaw, I ignore the pain in my head, but I can’t overlook the deceit. “I am going to fuck you,” I concede. “Just like you fucked me over. And I’m going to make you remember me one last time. Because after tonight, I’m never going to see you again. I can’t stand to even be around you another day. Not after what you did with Beast and God knows what other shit you’re involved with. I’m going to reminisce on this moment, you underneath me, screaming my fucking name. Noah will never be able to appease the sexual hunger burning inside you because I’m going to suck it dry.”
“You couldn’t hurt me if you wanted to,” she taunts, raising her chin. “Too late, I already saw your text message.”
I give her a dirty look. “What, the one where I said I loved you? Don’t read too much into it, baby.”
She closes the inches between us, drawing me back in. “Then fuck me, Rugged. Just like one of the little whores you play around with at your races.” She shrugs. “Should be easy for you to hit it and leave. No need to announce it because I’m going to enjoy watching you break.”
Swinging my leg around the back of her knee, I bring her down to her knees and clasp her hair. I want to meet those perfectly colored blueish-gray eyes staring up at me. No matter how much I try, I’ll never forget her, but it’ll come with the bitter feeling.
“Undo my jeans,” I order, seeing how much I can push her. The defiance in her eyes hardens my dick, and she doesn’t even bother to push the few strands of hair that have fallen into her eyes away. Instead, she locks her eyes with mine, reaching for my zipper and forcefully tugging it down.
“Like this?” she asks, her tone thick with spotless innocence. Her finger grazes the obvious bulge in my pants as she works the edges down. My fingers loosen on her hair, and I can’t help but want to feel her skin along mine.
“You know what you’re doing,” I growl, tightening my fingers around the locks of her hair. My jeans and boxers trail down my ass, springing my cock free in front of her face. I’m waiting for a cocky remark, a glare, one last word, but she takes my dick straight into her mouth, weakening me at the knees.
Her tongue works my length slowly, using her wet lips to torture me. My eyes close on their own, as I focus on the fact that my girl, a possible killer, liar and con, is sucking my dick like a pro. She’s the only one who can make me lose control, the solitary being that forces me to be a normal man. One who feels, dates, shows interest, moves on with their life. I want all of it, with her, but not like this. Not on her knees after I just ordered her there or that she’s trying to prove a point that she can take it like some whore I just picked up at a race.
I want us.
I want three days ago when she was underneath me in her bed and told me she loved me.
I want her to know that I meant it.
Rora lets out a soft groan that I can feel shudder up my shaft and to my balls. I can feel the buildup in me, and I don’t want this. She means to much, even though she shouldn’t. And I’m already exhausted by the tug ‘o war playing out in my head.
Hunching down, my thighs engulf her frame until we’re eye to eye. Her blues are glossy, and I don’t know if it’s from deep throating me or that she�
�s been crying. I’m hoping it’s not the latter. Everything is hard enough as it is right now.
Leaning in, I kiss her lips. I can feel her stiff posture, the way she makes sure she doesn’t touch me at all. I comprehend it all too well—the built-up walls, just fucking and no intimate touching, she’s playing the whore role too well, and it’s not helping my nerves any.
“Kiss me,” I mumble against her lips.
She pries from me, face blank. “You kiss your whores like that?”
“Don’t ask me stupid questions,” I rumble, toying with a lock of her hair and using it to bring her back to me.
“Don’t forget what this is,” she retorts, giving me her cheek when I go to kiss her again.
“Rora,” I press, letting her decide if she is going to listen or not.
We’re at a crossroads. Actually, more like a trust issue. Mine with her and the evidence I’ve seen, and her with me and the fact that I’ve locked her in a basement. Thing is, I can’t just drop her and not protect her.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she rasps. “You took everything. And then some. I have nothing else to say.”
“Good because I’m done fucking talking.” I swarm her, urging her body with mine to the grassy field. A memory we had together that was sweet and carefree. Now she’s my prisoner, and I need to take advantage of this moment just because I want to and for my sanity’s sake.
Rora lays on her elbows, letting me kiss and suck on her lips with a hunger more powerful than my free will. The idea of not being able to live with her and not being able to live without her tears at my soul. It rips apart everything in me to where I feel like I’m going to collapse and never be able to rise again. Even if it does solve Isla’s murder, I’ve lost another thing that I love. Whether she was a victim or suspect in the manner, she’s still mine.
“You always taste amazing,” I tell her, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Did Noah ever tell you that?”
“Not in this lifetime,” she returns.
We battle each other, trying to right wrongs, trying to come back from this nightmare, but she can’t deny what I found.
