48 Mac (A Junkyard Boys Novel)

by SH Richardson

  Useless in its actual execution.

  I laughed again.

  Otelia wanted my head on a pike and my balls in a sling. As much as I wanted to put off this little confrontation until I at least had one cup of coffee, I knew I had to deal with this pathetic display before things got out of hand. I made as much noise as possible so she knew I was coming, jingling keys, coughing to clear my throat, shuffling my feet, anything just short of announcing, “Here I come, ready or not.” The second I stepped inside, she went for it, using the overhead method. On the downswing, I hooked her arm holding the lamp behind my back and grabbed her securely around the neck with my free hand, not enough to choke her, but enough to hold her in place. Her breath left in a whoosh of surprise; her eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she caught my sinister stare. The more she tried to wiggle out of my grasp, the harder I squeezed, restricting her airways so she knew I meant business.

  “Tsk, tsk, Otelia. What did I say about going along, hmm?” I sneered inches from her face. “Did you really think you could pull this shit with me, woman? Shoulda stuck with trying to scratch my eyes out, kitty cat. This was just plain stupid and ill advised. Now, what am I going to do with you?”

  I saw a flash of fear in her eyes, a spark of unease. My cock hardened behind my silk sleeping pants, but she still wasn’t where I needed her to be.

  “Let me go, you bastard, or I swear to God I’ll scream,” she threatened.

  “Scream?” I growled, pulling her closer. “Now, that’s something I’d like to hear.”

  I grabbed the arm still holding the lamp and twisted it around her back until she dropped it to the ground. I knew the higher I lifted her palm, the more pain it would cause, but I needed her ass moving in the direction I wanted her to go. I pushed her backwards until her knees hit the edge of the mattress, spun her back to my front, secured both her wrists, and nudged her forward with my hips until she was sprawled out flat on the bed on her stomach. The weight of my body kept her in place as she flailed helplessly beneath me.

  “Let me go!” she yelled. “I fucking hate you!”

  “Like hell, woman.” I leaned in and took her earlobe between my teeth. “My dick is in its happy place.” I swiveled my hips to show her what I meant. “No way am I giving that up. If you close your mouth and open your ears, you can hear it crying for you. A sad melody of repression and desire it’s never had to sing before. I never deny my dick what it wants, Otelia.”

  Otelia stopped squirming once she realized the awkward position we’d landed in, my cock perfectly aligned with the crack of her ass, seeking entrance. Great fuck, that felt like heaven. The only thing that would’ve made it better was if we were both naked. I liked that idea a lot, and judging by the way her lips parted and her breaths deepened, I’d say she liked it too. The tingle at the base of my ball sack was a quick reminder that her being here wasn’t a fucking tryst and she needed to fall her ass in line if she wanted to live.

  “You’re disgusting. When I get my hands on you, I swear…”

  “You swear WHAT?” I hissed. “I fucking own you, woman. For the next thirty-six or so hours, your tight little ass belongs to me. Get that shit through your fucking head. I alone determine if you live or die, and right now, I’m thinking it would be a lot less trouble to put a bullet in your fucking head than to deal with your silly-ass stunts.”

  “You can’t keep me here against my will. You have no right.”

  “I have every right,” I seethed. “Your cunt friend and her bitch-ass man stole from me. By all accounts, they should already be dead, but I happen to need him. The only thing I give a fuck about is my goddamn money. Consequences and repercussions, Otelia.”

  Her breathing became choppy, uncontrolled.

  Finally, I had her attention.

  I leaned upward, placing most of my weight on her ass while pressing her face firmly against the mattress. How easy it would be for me to smother her in seconds, stuff her in a plastic bag, then toss her in the river with the rest of the trash. Mecken would want proof that she was still alive before the match, definitely a complication. Maybe I was going about this all wrong.

  “I have a proposition for you, Otelia Mae,” I whispered in her ear. “One that could be beneficial to both of us. All I ask is that you listen carefully to what I have to say.”

  “Why should I, dick stain?” she replied.

  “Because we’re both out of options.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Otelia

  MY PLAN HAD epically backfired, and like most things in my life, I was the one left with a hard dick in my ass, vowing never to let it happen again. Men have always caused me a great deal of grief—they take and take until there’s nothing left of you to give. This man was no different from the rest; he just so happened to be a lot more dangerous. How the hell did I get myself into this situation? If it wasn’t for that douchebag Drew, none of this shit would be happening right now. I’d be at home tucked safely in my own bed, living ghetto fabulous, minding my own fucking business while eating a bowl of ice cream. Instead, I was being manhandled into submission by some goon with a god complex. The second I got out of here, Drew’s ass was mine. Maribel would just have to get over it, along with everything else he’d put her through. The fight inside me waned the longer I lay prostate, pressed against the pillow beneath my face, but that was only part of the problem.

  A very small part.

  I felt a tingling sensation followed by a rush of dampness between my thighs so fiercely primal, I ached to rub my knees together. The touch of a man was my one true weakness. Sadly enough, my body wasn’t as immune to thugs as I hoped it would be. The feel of MacCabe along with his heady scent was wreaking havoc on my senses. I couldn’t think with him being so close. If I couldn’t use my brain, I couldn’t plan. If I couldn’t plan, I’d never get out of here alive. If I didn’t tread carefully, I’d end up dead. What was that he mentioned about a proposition? I took a deep breath to settle my raging hormones.

  “I’m listening,” was all I could muster.

  “If I let you up, do you promise to behave, Otelia?” Hell no, asshole.

  “If you mean by behave, do I plan on ripping your face off, then the answer is no. Consider yourself safe for now, Mac. Can’t speak for later though,” I hissed.

  “I look forward to that, kitty cat,” he deadpanned.

  The bastard gave one last roll of his hips before rising to his full height and taking three huge steps backwards. The distance gave me much-needed breathing room and ample space of which to turn over and face him head on. Sweet Mother in heaven. I took in his sexily disheveled bed head and silk sleeping pants. His muscled chest was bare, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips at the plains and valleys on full display. Fuck me, this guy could give Channing Tatum a run for his money if he ever wanted to pursue stripping for a living.

  I thought about giving it one last shot, attack his weak spots, like I once saw in a self-defense video on the Internet. The challenging look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what I was planning and was daring me to jump bad. He folded his arms over his chest, causing his pectoral muscles to clench and bunch together. His stance widened in preparation for battle. I wanted to slap that arrogant scowl off his face so badly my palm itched. Instead, I settled for giving him one of my own in return.

  “Smart,” he mumbled once he realized violence on my part wasn’t happening. Curiosity got the better of me, so I asked.

  “How did you know about the lamp? Were you spying on me, creeper?” I accused.

  “Cameras.” He pointed them out as he spoke. “Suites are wired for video, not sound, all except the bathroom. Must say, though, I enjoyed the little show you put on, but word of advice…choose a better weapon next time. Lamps are far too clunky.”

  “I’ll remember that, asshole,” I snarled. Still pissed he foiled my plan.

  “Let’s you and I review the facts of our little predicament and come to some sort of arrangement that creates a win-
win for both of us. I don’t have time to play games with you, Otelia. By way of importance, your life hovers somewhere towards the bottom of my list, just above brushing and flossing my teeth. The only thing I want to hear coming from your mouth are rational solutions, nothing more. If you insist on acting like a child, I will put you over my knee and spank your sexy little ass until it turns pink, am I understood?”

  Was this asshole serious?

  He spoke of ending my life so matter-of-factly, if he were holding a nail file, he’d almost look bored. He really couldn’t see how this whole thing was completely fucked up and that I wanted no part of it.

  “Rational decision?” I screeched, tossing a pillow towards his feet. “Did I ask to be here? No, I did not. Did I kidnap you from your place of business? No, I fucking didn’t. Did I threaten your friends, if you had any, with bodily harm if they didn’t fight to the death in your stupid Hunger Games? No. I. Didn’t. Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with me, so why should I have to be the rational one, hmmm? Riddle me that, Einstein.”

  He mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out before he addressed my mild hysteria. “Facts, Otelia. Anything else is a waste of both our energies. Now, try again without your feminine emotions getting in the way.”

  I inhaled sharply at his condescending tone. Mac was spot on, much to my chagrin. No one would come looking for me. I wasn’t expected back at Nipsy’s since I had the next two days off, and Maribel was busy dealing with the same bullshit I was, in a slightly different way. Add that up, and it could only mean one thing: I was well fucked without the courtesy of a reach-around.

  I couldn’t help but home in on his bare chest lightly sprinkled with hair, that delicious V as his hips tapered down into those sexy sleeping pants, and that hefty package lying languidly against his thigh like a third leg. I’d tried it my way with zero results. Perhaps if I just asked the mouth breather what I wanted to know, he would tell me. What other choice did I have?

  “What are you, some kind of a loan shark?” I fished.

  “I’m a business man, Otelia. It just so happens that my area of expertise is underground fighting. The men come and go of their own free will. They seek me out, not the other way around. I provide the venues, trained security agents, and take my cut of the purse.”

  “How much?” I pushed.

  “Excuse me?”

  “How much is your cut? For someone who doesn’t take any of the risk, I assume it’s minimal unless, of course, you’re a greedy bastard who only cares about himself.”

  “Then you’d assume wrong on both counts. As for my cut, it’s none of your business.”

  MacCabe seemed overly agreeable to my line of questioning. Then again, if he planned to kill me, who could I tell? The Almighty? I inadvertently shivered at the thought of meeting my end at the hands of this handsome stranger. From what I’d heard shouted through the walls last night, I wasn’t the only one being asked to make sacrifices. Marcus had agreed to the fight in order to save me. He didn’t have to do that, not really. I wasn’t his woman, merely a friend, and a new one at that. My tough girl perseverance crumbled before I knew what hit me, causing big fat buffalo tears to stream down my cheeks. Sure, Maribel and I were tight. We’d known each other for over five years, spent time together outside of work. But to have her man risk his life for a virtual stranger? That took guts, more than I’d ever had, that’s for sure. How amazing it must feel to have a man willing to do so much for the woman he loved. Someday, I told myself.

  Someday.

  “Stop that shit right fucking now,” MacCabe ordered. “Think about the situation and pull yourself together. Less than two days, that’s all it is. Fuck, I’ve stayed awake cramming for finals in college longer than that. This doesn’t have to be painful, trust me.”

  “You went to college?” I sobbed. “What did you study? Kidnapping 101?”

  “Concentrate,” he barked.

  “Easy for you to say.” I sniffled. “You’re not the one in fear for their life.”

  That asshole quirked his brow and hooted out a laugh so loud it scared me. “Fear for their life? Woman, please, you’re not afraid. A second ago, you tried to bean me in the head with a lamp. Does that sound like someone who’s quaking in their boots?”

  He had a point there.

  But still.

  “Are you going to kill me, Mac? I heard you threaten Marcus if he didn’t do as you said. I only just met him yesterday. He doesn’t even know me.”

  He thought about if for a second, seemingly conflicted, before he settled on an answer.

  “That decision rests solely in the hands of Marcus Mecken, Otelia. Let’s hope he makes the right one…for both our sakes.”

  I searched my mind for everything I remembered from the few stories Maribel used to tell me about Marcus. She was mostly tight lipped about the mysterious boy with whom she fell in love as a teenager. Occasionally, she felt nostalgic and reminisced about that time in her life before shutting down and moving on to the present. She must be worried sick about losing her one true love for a second time. I couldn’t let that happen, not when there was something I could do about it. Going up against MacCabe when he held all the cards would only make things more difficult for my friends.

  Two days, and I’d go free.

  I believed that to be true.

  Steely and without reservation, I faced MacCabe, who stood silently across the room, expectantly, and sealed my fate. Two days, I repeated to myself. Two days till freedom.

  “I’ll behave, I promise.”

  The words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  CHAPTER 5

  MacCabe

  I SIPPED MY morning coffee at the dining room table, laptop open, and watched my willing guest ready herself for the day. She hadn’t wallowed in self-pity after agreeing to my terms. No tears or counter offers, she just went with it. I was prepared to force her if I had to, tie her little ass up and lock her in the bathroom if she continued to give me grief. What made her agree so readily? I wondered. It was too quick, too easy, almost as if she were trying to play me for a fucking fool. That would’ve been her final mistake. I wasn’t any woman’s fool, not anymore. That caption was claimed years ago by someone who pledged their undying love for me. I trusted the golden vixen was smarter than that. I alone held the power to break that delightful little flower’s spirit if she so much as hinted at a double-cross.

  She’d nearly had me, though, when she looked at me with those big blue eyes flooded with tears. Something tightened in my chest painfully until I’d reeled that shit in and buried it. When she confessed to being afraid, I knew then that it was all a bunch of bullshit. She wasn’t afraid of anything, especially not me. The woman was a conundrum, for sure, but she’d have to try a lot harder to get one over on me. I blamed the momentary onslaught of sympathetic feelings on lack of sleep and killing whiplash. It happened.

  It was safe to say that Otelia was going to make the next few hours very fucking interesting. My cock prayed she did. I ordered it to stand down. She didn’t want to be here anymore than I wanted her here, so I tried to make her stay as uncomplicated as possible.

  In preparation, I asked my personal stylist to pick out a few pieces she would need, as women often do. Of course, I had the final say. Everything from feminine hygiene products to the top-of-the-line cosmetics, no stone was left unturned once I made up my mind to go ahead with this thing. Kidnapping wasn’t a part of my business model, but desperate times and all that had backed me into a corner. Once the forty-eight hours were over, I’d return her in the same condition she was found, disgustingly common yet strikingly beautiful in her dingy white uniform. I thought it truly was a waste, the first time I’d seen her.

  I’d noticed her straight away when I entered that grease bucket called Nipsy’s. She was shamelessly flirting with Mecken at one of the tables, tits on full display, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, so intent on gaining his attention, she never even bothered to look up when I arrive
d. It mattered not that he wasn’t listening to a damn word she was saying. She kept right at him like a bitch in heat. Her eyes glowed like a serpent preparing to sink her fangs into her prey, the chase more satisfying than the catch itself. She was the sort of woman who’d leave her man high and dry the minute there weren’t enough steaks in the freezer. The kind that chose the eldest son and heir to a mob empire instead of the man she professed to love. A woman like…

  He, on the other hand, kept his gaze firmly fixed on one woman and one woman only: Maribel Laine. The tiny brunette wiped down the counter with a knowing smirk on her face. She didn’t seem to mind that her friend was trying her damnedest to fuck her man right out in plain sight. What’s a little thing like loyalty anyway?

  I’d had a feeling that Mecken and his boys would close ranks around his woman. All eyes would be on her until my payment was delivered. It was the smart move, typical of those hero types who only thought with their dicks. Using Maribel to get to him was not an ideal assignment and could ultimately backfire in my face. The trick was finding just the right amount of motivation to push his boundaries far enough without forcing him over the edge. I didn’t need his thoughts preoccupied with what was happening with his girl to not give the fight his careful attention. That’s where she came in, the sexy blond bombshell, and the next best thing.

  Otelia Mae.

  The ultimate pain in my ass.

  I watched as she browsed the choice of selections hanging in the closet. She moved with both grace and curiosity as she took in the tags from top designers. She showered and donned a Dolce & Gabbana lace paneled silk kimono I’d chosen because of its unique colors, blue with purple flowers. Her long blond hair was still damp and hung seductively over her shoulder as her head tilted ever so slightly upon examining each outfit. She tried to hide her excited smirk once she found just the right ensemble and laid it out on the bed. Watching her demeanor change by something as simple as new clothing warmed my chest from the inside out. The women I knew wouldn’t hesitate to suck a dick for a pair of those shoes with the red bottoms. Most were ungrateful gold diggers looking for their next sucker to get over on. Not Otelia Mae. She stared at the tiny bounty in complete awe, barely touching the fabric so as not to wrinkle it. She would make some man a fine companion one day, if that was something you had an interest in.