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Her Devils: Devil's Regents MC Books 1-3

Page 41

by Sarah Bale


  I pull back and look up at him. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “This place has bad memories for me. Things we still need to talk about. But I want you to help me make new memories here.”

  “Oh?”

  Reaching between us, I unbuckle his jeans and slip my hand into his pants. “I want you to fuck me, Razor.”

  When I grip his cock, air hisses from his lips. He captures my mouth in another kiss, but his hands move to my shorts, unbuttoning them. I shimmy my legs so they fall down and then kick them to the side. Without breaking the kiss, he reaches between us, cupping my mound. I’m already wet for him and he runs his finger through my arousal.

  A whimper escapes my lips when he rubs his thumb over my clit.

  “Come here,” he murmurs.

  He walks me to the desk and spins me so I’m facing it. I’m already bending over the cool metal, holding onto the sides. Using his boot, he pushes my legs apart, which is so fucking sexy. The air is cool on my skin, but then I feel the tip of his cock against my opening and all thoughts fade away. In this moment, it’s just the two of us.

  He brushes my hair over my shoulder and whispers into my ear. “You have to be quiet or Agent Hill will know what we’re doing in here.”

  I’m about to give him a sassy reply when he enters me in a slow, torturous thrust. I grip the desk and bite back a moan as he fills me inch by inch. He pulls back and thrusts harder this time, knowing exactly what it takes to get me off. Arching my back, I rock into his next thrust. He’s the one moaning when I swivel my hips.

  “Fuck,” he pants out.

  I grin, but he soon has the upper hand as he slides into me again. He pulls my hair, wrapping it around his fist. At the same time, he uses his free hand to rub my clit. It’s the right amount of friction and pain and I gasp as my orgasm blooms.

  “Razor,” I moan. “I’m so close.”

  His thumb works my clit as he pounds into me. The sound of sex fills the small room and it’s like music to my ears. When his thrust become shallow, I know he’s close too. Reaching under my shirt, I cup my breast and tweak my nipple, imagining it’s his rough palm instead of my smooth one.

  There’s a knock on the door and Agent Hill calls out, “Liv, we need to go.”

  More wetness floods my pussy at the thought of being caught. I glance over my shoulder and see the devilish glint in Razor’s eyes. He knows my dirty little secret now. The thrill of getting caught has always turned me on.

  “We’ll be right out, Agent Hill,” he answers, barely even sounding winded. To me, he whispers, “Unless you want him to come in here to watch?”

  I whimper. God. I’m so close.

  He nips my earlobe. “Maybe we can get Saint in here. Let him see what I’m doing to you?”

  While the thought of Agent Hill watching doesn’t excite me, the thought of Saint does. I let out a deep moan right before I reach my climax. My pussy pulses around his cock until he lets out a grunt, coming in me in hot waves. We rock blindly against each other as we chase the last bits of pleasure we can find.

  When Razor pulls out, I miss him right away. I turn, so I’m facing him, and wrap my arms around him.

  “I know we can’t be together now, but promise me we will be soon.”

  “Liv, I can’t promise that. Not until I know you’re safe.”

  I know he’s right, but it hurts like hell. We stand there, in each other’s arms, as evidence of our love drip down my leg. Finally, I pull back and grab my panties from my shorts and clean myself up. Razor snorts when I toss them into the trash can.

  “Someone’s going to know we had a good time in here.”

  “This room deserves happiness.”

  There’s an understanding that settles between us as we both get dressed. I’m about to reach for the door when Razor pulls me into his arms, kissing me.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispers into my ear. “I hope you know that.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “I promise I’m doing everything in my power to get us all back together.”

  I believe him, too.

  I brush my lips against his. “I love you, Zayn Smith.”

  The grin on his face is so big that it takes my breath away. “Fuck. I love hearing you say my real name. Feels special, since no one uses it anymore.”

  He was embarrassed to tell me his real name at first, but after Bash told me his, Razor felt obligated. For me, it was like getting a present. No one in the club except for the club officers know his real name. And now I know it.

  I say, “It’s our special secret. No one else gets to call you that but me. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  We kiss one last time before leaving the room. Agent Hill is waiting just outside the door. I hope to god he doesn’t know what we were up to, but he’s a sharp man. Plus, my hair is a total mess. And Razor has a huge, shit-eating grin on his face.

  Agent Hill says, “Come on, Olivia. It’s getting late and I need to get you home.”

  Razor brushes his lips across my cheek and says, “Take care of my girl, Agent Hill.”

  “Will do.”

  I give Razor one last smile before following Agent Hill.

  “Would it be possible to stop by the ICU? I want to talk to the nurse taking care of King.”

  He shakes his head. “No. We need to get you out of here.”

  It’s barely noticeable, but the slight hitch in his voice raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “What is it?”

  “Everything is fine. Just act normal.”

  Now I’m really freaking out. Everything is fine. Just act normal. Are you fucking kidding me? How am I supposed to act normal after he tells me that?

  He walks past the elevators, to the stairwell.

  I whisper, “Are you sure this is safe?”

  “Yes. We’re going to the third floor. From there, we’re going to take the skybridge to the connecting building. We need to get out of here. Now.”

  Oh my god. He’s here. My father is here.

  “Olivia. Listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Razor? He’s going to walk right into whatever trap my father set.”

  “I didn’t tell Razor because we need to get you out of here. Once you’re safe, an officer will get Razor out.”

  “What about King and Saint?”

  “Olivia, I promise they’re safe. You’re not. Come on.”

  He opens the door and I pause, just for a second. I’ve always hated stairwells. They tend to smell and I’m pretty sure every horror movie has one in it. But there’s no telling what my father has planned for me, so I follow Agent Hill.

  When we reach the third floor, he motions for me to wait as he opens the door. I don’t miss his hand is on his gun, ready to draw it if needed.

  “We’re clear. Come on.”

  The floor of this building is empty, which I’m thankful for. We cross the skybridge, which is empty as well. Below us, I spot at least three police vehicles. Are they here to look for my father or do they normally patrol this area?

  Agent Hill says, “When we get to the other building, we’re going to take the elevator to the basement. One of the unmarked cars will be waiting. Get in as fast as you can and lock the door.”

  I nod. I can’t even reply because my throat is dry. How did my father know I was here? And what in the hell does he have planned? Was he really going to try to take me in broad daylight? My mind races with unanswered questions and terrible scenarios.

  Agent Hill opens the door, peering in. “Come on.”

  He speed-walks toward the elevators. There are more people here, which scares the shit out of me. They all look harmless enough in their business attire, but what if one of them works for my father? This would be the perfect place to hide someone in plain sight.

  The elevator doors open and we step on. Agent Hill presses the button for the second floor
and then the basement.

  “Just in case.”

  We stop on the second floor and an older woman gets on, smiling. She’s definitely not the type to work with my father, so I’m not too worried about her. When we reach the basement, we get off, going the opposite direction from her. Tires squeal somewhere in the garage and Agent Hill’s pace increases.

  I’m out of breath as we come to a stop in front of a station wagon. A woman a few years older than me gets out, handing the keys to Agent Hill.

  “You’re clear. We believe the suspect left when you didn’t go to the ICU.”

  “Was it my father? Did you see him?”

  She doesn’t answer me, but says to Agent Hill, “We caught two men in the hospital. They were hanging around the ICU.”

  My breath solidifies in my throat. “Did anyone check on King?”

  “Get in the car, Olivia.”

  I debate arguing with him, but the steely look in his eyes assures me I won’t get answers this way. Not this time. I get in the car, locking the door behind me. He does the same and starts the engine, pulling out of the parking spot.

  “To get to the ICU rooms, you have to go through three secure doors, all requiring access to enter. We’ve got two agents sitting outside King’s room as well as one inside with him.”

  “Have you heard from them? I need to make sure he’s okay.”

  “I haven’t heard.” I make a sound, and he says, “Olivia, no news is good news, I promise.”

  I don’t believe that though, because I’ve seen the face of the devil firsthand, and it’s my father. Agent Hill knows some of the terrible things he did to me, but not all. Hell, I’m not sure anyone can comprehend the evil that is my father.

  “If it will make you feel better, I’ll have someone check on King.”

  “It will. Thank you.”

  We ride in silence as Agent Hill takes the long way home. For once, I’m glad for the delay. If my father knew I was at the hospital, that means he doesn’t know where I’m staying. If he did, he’d try something instead of risking being seen in public. I guess I should be thankful for Agent Hill’s paranoia right now. Silver linings or some shit like that.

  “What do you think he was going to do? If he got me?”

  Agent Hill is silent before saying, “I’m not sure. He’d be crazy to try to take you in plain sight, but-” He shakes his head. “I just don’t know.”

  I look out my window as the city passes by. Maybe I’m nuts for staying here, in Savannah. I should have left the state when I turned eighteen. Savannah is too close to where he hurt me, so I’m sure it wasn’t hard for him to find me. I should be trying to get out of here, but I don’t because of the men I love. Deep down I also know that if I run now, I’ll be running for the rest of my life.

  We turn down the street where my apartment complex is. It’s crazy – nothing seems out of place, and yet my body is screaming to turn around.

  I let out a shaky breath. “Why does it feel like someone is watching us?”

  Agent Hill picks up the handheld radio on the dashboard and says, “We’re approaching.”

  Someone on the other end answers, “You’re clear.”

  We park and get out of the car. With each step that we take I know that this is a mistake. That I should run. That I need to get out of here. Agent Hill has his hand on his gun as we go up the stairs. I’m about to tell him we should leave when I see it.

  “He was here. Oh my god. He was here!”

  In front of the door is a stuffed animal similar to one I used to have as a child. On it is a note.

  Livi, I can’t wait to see you.

  It’s a twisted message letting me know that he is, indeed, back from the dead. But it’s more than that. This is a power play. A reminder of how he hurt me when I was too weak to fight back.

  Agent Hill lets out a curse and he pulls out his phone. “I want all of the cameras pulled. The fucker was here, and I want to know when and how.”

  My hand shakes as I reach for the doorknob, but he stops me.

  “No. We’ll send someone to get your things. I’m getting you out of here.”

  The familiar sense of numbness settles over me as he leads me back to the car. My father is getting bolder. It’s only a matter of time before he makes his move. And I don’t think anyone will be able to save me this time.

  4

  Bash

  Every breath hurts.

  Living hurts.

  Is it even worth it?

  I’m starting to think it’s not.

  Fuck.

  Dying would be easier.

  The flames from my bike are finally dying down. At first, the heat was too much.

  Now?

  Now I wish I was lying right next to the charred frame of my bike just so I could be warm.

  Something moves in the dark, but I don’t feel fear. If it’s a predator, then it’s already smelled my blood and sensed how weak I am.

  If it’s a person, then I might be saved.

  Or not.

  A fox darts out of the brush, heading to another brush grouping further away.

  Tears prickle my eyes as I try in vain to blink them away.

  This is my punishment for killing that punk-ass college kid.

  I could have stopped and let him live.

  But I didn’t because I fucking liked it.

  And now I’m going to die out here all alone.

  The real kicker? No one will even know what happened to me.

  So, I do the one thing I can.

  I close my eyes and wait to finally die.

  5

  Olivia

  I go through the motions over the next few weeks as Halloween comes and goes, and I watch all the trick-or-treaters from my window. I don’t even pass out candy. It’s too dangerous and, to be honest, I’m not in the mood anymore. Hell, I’m not in the mood for anything. Depression wraps around me like an old, familiar friend, and I welcome it. That, and my predictable schedule keep me going.

  Online classes in the morning.

  Therapy in the afternoon.

  Back to my new place to study some more.

  Bed.

  Repeat.

  My new apartment is…well, the roof doesn’t leak and the doors close without gaps. Those are about the only good things I can say about it. I guess Agent Hill thinks hiding me in the shady part of town is going to protect me. So far, so good, I suppose.

  Still no signs of Bash.

  Still nothing on Lucy’s disappearance.

  Still no word from Saint, Razor, or King.

  Hell, my father doesn’t even try anything, which leads me to believe he doesn’t know where I’m being kept now.

  Agent Hill looked at the security camera footage at my old place. It revealed that a kid living in the complex put the stuffed animal at my door. When asked about it, he said a man paid him five bucks to do it. He then identified my father in a series of photos. But the little mind-fuck message from my father did it’s intended job, and now I’m living in fear. Again.

  By the first of November, I’m going fucking stir-crazy. Grabbing my phone, I call Dr. Cross.

  “I’m not feeling it today,” I say when she answers. “Is it okay if we cancel our session?”

  “Of course, that’s fine, Olivia. Is there anything you’d like to talk about over the phone?”

  I bite back a groan. For fuck’s sake. No! I don’t want to talk about my fucking feelings. Or about my fears. Or about anything!

  Forcing myself to smile, I say, “Thank you, but no. I think I’m still not at one-hundred percent. I just want to get under a warm blanket and take a nap.”

  That part isn’t a lie. Who knew it was possible to get strep as an adult? I, for one, didn’t, especially since I’m not around kids, but a week ago I was diagnosed, which explains why I was feeling like shit.

  “Are you still taking the antibiotics? It’s very important to finish the entire course.”

  “I’m still taking the
m.”

  Even though they tear up my stomach. Seriously. Who knew something that was good for you could also make you feel worse? My throat is starting to feel better, so that’s good. And, I’m not as tried as I was last week.

  “Okay. Well, you have my number if you need it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I end the call, tossing my phone on my couch. I’m going out of my mind in this apartment. I can’t go outside because it’s not safe. I can’t visit King, who’s not in a coma anymore; or Saint at the hospital because it’s not safe. I can’t go wherever Razor is because it’s not safe. Class – not safe. Being around classmates – not safe. The only safe things are the beige walls that literally make me want to scratch my eyes out.

  Getting up, I pace. There are exactly twenty-two steps from the living room to the bedroom. Twelve to the bathroom. Four to the kitchen. I’m like one crazy train away from counting the tiles in the bathroom or naming my plants. It’s too early to go to bed, and I don’t drink, so it’s not like I can even do that.

  Sighing, I pad to the kitchen and open the fridge. Nothing sounds good, so I move to the pantry. Nothing there either. Ugh. Fuck it. I’ll just go to bed. Eleven hours of sleep is healthy. Right?

  My phone buzzes in the living room and I grab it.

  Agent Hill: You have a visitor.

  There’s a knock on the door at the same time. My heart pounds in excitement. It’s got to be one of them. Agent Hill wouldn’t let them up otherwise. I look through the peephole and throw the door open.

  “Saint!”

  He’s pulling me into his arms, kissing me before I know what’s happening. I wrap my arms around his neck and he makes a sound in the back of his throat.

  “Saint?”

  “Give me a second. I’m in some pain right now.”

  He’s downplaying it though, if the sweat beading on his forehead is any indication.

 

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