by T. L Smith
Until Lucas.
“You know Brody’s right. He is old enough now to help. To pitch in. You were what? Seventeen, when you started?” I nod my head. It’s been years, and I stopped for a while, then started back up again. The money was good, and in the end, it was the only way. It’s like a hit of some drug. You tell yourself it’s only once, but you keep going back for more, and more.
“I don’t want the same for Brody,” I tell her. “You know this.”
“Brody isn’t going to sell his body.” Merci waves a hand, dismissing me.
“No, just his soul to the damn devil,” I complain, already knowing the truth. I bite the inside of my cheek as I look at her.
“That may be true, but I think that devil wants your soul more than his, hunny.”
I have a feeling her words are true—that it’s me he wants, and I don’t know how I feel about that. Will I be another girl on the news they find dead? Or maybe he’ll keep me and play with me longer. Which fate is worse, I don’t know.
I’m not even sure I want to find out.
But I doubt I’ll have much of a choice after tonight.
I don’t think Lucas gives anyone choices.
5
Lucas
That little honey. All the ways I plan to fuck her have been on my mind since the moment she shut the door in the back room of the bar. I had to watch and assess just to see what type of woman she was, and to say she didn’t disappoint would be an understatement. Just thinking about her makes my cock hard. And the way she smells…fuck! I could’ve come on the fucking spot. That’s sweet fucking pussy.
I’m a taker. That’s what I am in this life. I see something, I fucking take it. And if anyone stops me, I’ll end their fucking life.
I wasn’t raised with a silver spoon in my mouth—mine was motherfucking gold.
Yes, you read that right. Because not only am I a mommy’s boy with daddy issues—which I will happily tell you about—I’m a fucking spoiled brat and always get what I want.
But let’s make no mistake.
I play dirty.
Just because I had a helping hand, does not mean I didn’t work for everything I have.
I’m not trusted to run the area I do just out of luck. I built it up, made them fear me, then I came to own them. And I did a lot of bad shit to get here.
Some would be ashamed, feel guilt.
Not me.
I could give two flying fucks what you think. You see me giving you the finger. Good, sit on it and motherfucking spin for all I care.
Because not only could I buy you too, but I would slice your throat and have you begging for my cock at the same time.
Want to know why? Because I’ve done it.
But not once have I had the same thing happen to me.
Until her.
I haven’t seen her for weeks, but I’ve been watching. Stalking her.
The door opens to my bar, and I see the young guy walk in. The little brother, who I’m pretty sure she told to stay far, far away from here.
His hands are in his pockets, and he looks around as he closes the door behind him. When he glances up, he sees me sitting at the bar with a glass in my hand and walks over to me, his head down.
“Do you have any work?”
Goddammit! This kid has balls.
Does he know what his sister did to get him out of here? I guess not, otherwise he wouldn’t be standing right there.
Unless he plans to kill me.
Which I highly doubt.
I eye him up and down. He’s not scrawny, he’s got some muscle on him, and he is dressed in clothes that are probably bought from a thrift shop. His shoes have holes in them, but somehow, he radiates confidence. I wonder if he gets it from her?
“Do you have a death wish?” I retort.
Mario walks out from the door to the bar and stops when he sees the kid and me. I wave him off and he goes back from where he came, leaving us alone.
“I need the money.”
“And what do you need said money for?” I ask him in return.
He scratches the back of his hand, like he needs to think about that answer. A smart boy. “What is it you need done?”
“That isn’t what I asked you,” I bite back.
He nods and lowers his head. “Anything but fuck a guy.”
“Have you ever done that? You never know, you may enjoy it.” His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head infinitesimally. “Relax, I won’t ask you to fuck anyone, kid.”
“I’m an adult,” he replies. “Just turned eighteen today.”
“Is this why you’re back, instead of listening to your sister?”
He nods.
I don’t understand their relationship as I’m an only child. It’s probably best that’s the case anyway. The closest people I have to brothers are Keir and Joey, but even those two have their own stupid fucking bromance. Keir may want to kill him most of the time, just like I’m sure he wants to kill me too.
“She doesn’t have to know.”
“Oh, I think she’ll find out.” I stare at him, and he says nothing. “I can’t have your sister in here threatening my people. She may end up fucking dead otherwise.”
He swallows and then nods his head. “I got it.”
“You can start tomorrow. We have a game on. Same as last time.”
“Thank you, Lucas.”
I grind my teeth. “It’s sir, not Lucas,” I snap at him.
“Sorry. Sir, yes… of course.”
I hate it when people use my name, it’s one of my biggest fucking peeves. Only my family can get away with it, and even then, it grinds on everything in me.
He turns and starts to make his way to the door.
“Kid.”
He stops mid-step and looks back.
“Tell your sister I expect to see her later tonight to speak with me, because we both know she will.”
He nods again and hurries to leave.
Now it’s just a matter of time before her sweet ass walks through that door.
And I’ll wait.
For something that sweet, I’ll play any game.
As long as I win, of course.
And we all know I will win.
6
Chanel
Fucking hell.
I swear, it’s just that I don’t usually swear this much. But with him, I just can’t help myself.
It’s the similar scene, different day. Lucas is waiting out front for me, his back leaning against his car with that stupid cigarette in his mouth. I walk straight up to him and pull it from his lips, throwing it to the ground. Guns are pulled on me from either side and aimed at my head, but I take no notice. Because I have a feeling he doesn’t want me dead, not just yet anyway.
“You really had to hire him?”
Lucas’ eyes skim me, then he licks his lips. “Yes, you are late.” That’s the extent of his reply.
I’ve gone a week without seeing him.
I would rather go a week more.
No scrub that, forever would be better!
But Brody is eighteen now, and legally, he can work. So why am I trying to stop him? It’s not like the money won’t help us.
“Fire him,” I demand, my hands crossing over my chest.
Lucas waves and the guys who had the guns trained at my head lower them and walk away, leaving us by ourselves outside the front of his club. It’s dark and no one is on the streets because everyone knows what danger lurks here.
Him.
It’s him they are all afraid of.
“What will I get in return?” he asks, the question pulling a smirk from his lips.
“I won’t fuck you. I know what you do to women you fuck.”
“Do you, now?” He quirks a brow. “What do I do?”
“Most wind up dead.”
“Only the bad ones.” The sick bastard winks. “Are you bad?”
“Yes. So what do you want?”
“Nothing. I’m not firing him.” He mo
ves around me to go back into the club, but not before taking his time to give my appearance a thorough once-over. I’m dressed pretty much the same as I was the last time I saw him. I didn’t plan to work today, but someone offered me over five hundred bucks cash that I couldn’t refuse for a hand job. He was desperate. And it seems, so am I. But I plan on purchasing Brody a pair of Nike Air Force 1 shoes he’s been eyeing for months that we could never afford.
“Fire him.”
He spins and is in front of me in the blink of an eye. He’s taller, so his eyes look down as they lock on mine. It really is like entering the woods when you lock eyes with him; you know you should look away and run toward the light, but you’re stuck in there, lost in the dark.
“No one tells me what to do, not even my mother,” he spits out at my face in anger.
“Keir,” I state, knowing full well who his boss is.
“He knows better. Only when I’m with him do I listen.” I say nothing in return. “Even then, I choose not to. Remember that.”
“My brother’s just a kid,” I plead giving him my best doe-eyes.
“As I’m sure you were the first time you spread your legs.”
Damn! He’s got me there.
“I’ll do it.”
“Do what, please say?” Lucas asks, then he backs away from me, putting distance between us.
“Whatever it is you want.” The words leave my mouth in such a rush I feel lightheaded.
“Don’t act like it would be a chore to fuck me. I saw your reaction the other night. You want it, but you’re afraid.” He steps back up to me takes a strand of my hair and pushes it behind my ear before he leans in and whispers in my ear, “And you should be.”
Then he pulls away, and heads right back toward the entrance, yelling over his shoulder. “Offer denied! Tell your brother I’ll see him tonight. And not to be late. I once cut a man’s finger off for tardiness.” With that, he strides through the door to his club, leaving me standing on the street to wonder what’s next.
The asshole.
Trailing after him, I slide through the closing door and watch him disappear through the hallway to the back.
It’s then the bartender walks out, holding a carton of beer with a name tag that reads Marcus. He stops when he sees me and shakes his head. “You totally have a death wish, girl.” His eyes assess me, though.
“Or, you know, he’s just an asshole.”
“Oh, that he is. But most women don’t come back several times unless they’re fucking him. Which, clearly, you are not, considering you have no marks on you.” I look down over my body. I’m wearing a small red dress that shows plenty of skin. I got it from a thrift shop where Merci and I go once every few months, so we aren’t wearing the same things continuously. I don’t wear dresses unless I’m working. But when I do, it’s usually all the same style—short and sassy.
“He kills them,” I state.
“Amongst other things,” he says, laughing. “Like I said, death wish.” Then he walks off to where I have no care and I realize I’m not in the mood to deal with him any longer today.
When I get home after making a quick stop, Brody is about to leave. He throws on his jacket then slides his wallet into his pocket. He told me earlier he’d be heading to the bar to work, and to say I was furious would be an understatement.
“You can quit your second job now. Do the other full-time.”
“Not going to happen, because you can’t work for him,” I declare.
“Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you earlier, Lucas said you need to come in and see him,” Brody tells me.
I reply with, “I’ve already seen Lucas once to many times today, so no, I won’t be coming in.”
Brody says, “When you see him, you need to call him sir, not Lucas.”
Ha! Not fucking likely. I’ll stick to that asshole.
“I got you something,” I say, handing him a bag.
Brody looks at it and pulls his brows together. “Um… we don’t do presents.”
“I know, but this time it’s special. The big one eight,” I say, smiling.
With that he nods and opens the bag. When he sees the box, he pulls it out like a kid at Christmas time. “Shit, sis.”
“Brody,” I warn him.
He smiles so big at the shoes that all I can do is smile right along with him when he pulls me in for a hug. I hug him back before he pulls away, takes a seat and changes his shoes. When he finally has them on, he stands in front of me. “Badass.” He nods his head.
“Totally badass,” I agree with him.
“Don’t be mad, okay? But I heard he’s actually good to work for. He pays well if his employees listen. And I’m a great listener.”
Instantly, I want to argue with him that he isn’t, but I keep my mouth shut. Because he does have to do things on his own. It’s time for me to stop mollycoddling him. He’s an adult now, as he so likes to remind me.
“Good luck,” I manage to say. “If you get yourself killed or hurt, I’m afraid I’ll be going down with you.”
Brody nods and pulls on his jacket, and when the door shuts beind him, I’m left to worry if I will see my baby brother after tonight.
Merci lets herself in about an hour into my attempt to distract myself with a movie. “So, where’s Brody?”
I’m sitting on the couch with my legs tucked under me when I answer her. “He’s at work,” I reply, not taking my attention away from the television, and she plops down next to me.
“You let him go? Wow! Didn’t think you would, and he would have to sneak out.”
“I thought about it, not letting him go,” I tell her honestly. “I went to see Lucas.” She reaches for the remote and switches off the television. My cell starts ringing, but I ignore it as I wait for her to say something.
“He’s dangerous. And…he is clearly interested in you.”
I go to argue, but I can’t because he is.
“What happened when he was here?” I look away and back to the dark television screen.
“He made me bend over in front of him.”
“Okay, that’s not too bad.”
“Then he smelled me.” Her eyes go wide and her head juts back, in a kind of disgust versus curiosity look. “Between my legs…while I was naked,” I say on a whisper.
“That boy has some kink, and I think that kink may be you.” She chuckles.
My cell starts ringing again, and this time, I get up to answer it. I have one of those cheap flip phones, not the iPhones everyone else uses. I can’t afford one and see them as a waste of money.
“Hello.” Music blares over the line and then my brother’s voice comes through.
“Come down, they’re throwing me a party.”
Okay…I look to the phone in confusion, then to Merci.
“He says they’re throwing him a party and I should join them,” I tell her, my brows furrowing.
It doesn’t take long before she’s standing with a smile on her face. “Right, let’s go.”
“You literally just said he’s dangerous.”
She claps her hands together. “But sometimes we all need to take a walk on the wild side, don’t we?” She heads to the door and calls over her shoulder, “I’m going to get changed, and you and me…we’re going to drink while the night is young.”
“I’m not changing,” I yell out to her but she’s gone.
I sit back on the couch and wait until she walks back in. She does a twirl and shows off the gorgeous yellow dress that sits at her knees and has a slit up the side. Yellow looks amazing on her. I get up and pocket my cell as I walk to the door.
“You really need to step up your style.” She flicks her braids behind her head, and I hold back the laughter itching to burst from my mouth. It was a struggle to get me into those dresses she made me wear to begin with. But the bonus about dresses is that they’re faster to get on after the sex, so I wear them. But when I’m home, it’s jeans, track pants, or just a shirt long enough to cov
er my ass.
“I look fine,” I reply and smile as we get into her beat-up car. She turns the key, and it doesn’t start. I sit there as she hits the dash, then does it again. This time, it starts and we both sigh in relief.
It’s late, and I figured Brody would be home by now, but he’s eighteen and it is his birthday so I have to cut him some slack. And Merci says he needs a little fun in his life.
“I got him those shoes,” I tell her.
“So you took a job today?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Thought you were quitting.”
I shrug and look out the window into the night.
“Do it. You hate it. And I know you have some money saved, so use that if you have to.”
“Why don’t you stop?” I ask, in a genuine effort to get the heat off me.
“Because, unlike you, I like the job.” She puckers her lips. “The money, the sex, every single part of it.”
“Has one ever made you come?” I ask, thinking of how it felt to have Lucas near me.
“Only this one man who, might I add, pays the best. Always asks for me, usually once a month, and I never, ever, turn him down. Then, after him I will turn everything down for a week, so as to not ruin the memory.”
Finally, she comes to a stop out front of Lucas’ club. It looks dead, but with the window down I can hear the music blaring out here from inside.
“Are we really doing this?” I bite my cheek as the nerves hit me at the thought of seeing Lucas after our interaction.
“We are. It’s Brody’s birthday and he wants you there.” She gets out first and I follow. I pull at my hair bun to tighten it as we walk to the entrance, but as we go to step in, the doors are pushed open and the same guy from earlier is standing there.
