by Rachel Leigh
The sink faucet has been running for ten minutes. Granted, I haven’t busted a nut in a few weeks, but it couldn’t have been that much of a mess to clean up.
“I need a different pair of shorts,” she hollers from the other side of the door.
“What’s wrong with the ones you have on?”
The door slowly opens, causing me to straighten up. Her head pokes out of the crack. “Mine are all wet.”
“So dry them and hurry your ass up.”
“I can’t, Talon. I really soaked them. I can’t wear these downstairs.”
“Come on.” I grab her hand and walk her down to the other end of the hallway to the door to the next level. Cupping my hand around the keypad, I punch in the code then open the door.
“I’ve never been up here before,” she says, as we reach the top.
“No one has.”
This level is my space. No one comes up here. Aside from one time that Blakely came up to check on me because she thought I was on the verge of suicide—which I wasn’t—no one else has seen my lair. The boys, the ladies, the guests, they can have the rest. This is mine.
“Wow. This is nice,” she says, looking around. “I didn’t even know this part of the house existed.”
“Good. Because this is the first and last time you’ll see it.” I walk over to my dresser, open the drawer, and pull out a pair of boxer shorts, then toss them at her. “Put these on.”
She holds them up. “Umm, I’m not wearing your underwear.”
“They're clean. Quit bitching and put them on. You’re welcome.”
“You expect me to thank you.” She laughs sarcastically. “There is no way that I am putting these on and going back downstairs to a house full of people.” The boxers fly back at me.
“Guess you’ll be partying in your panties. That, or your cum-soaked shorts. Your choice.”
Steady steps lead her over to me as she grunts and groans in agitation with each movement. “Seriously, I’m so tired. Can I just go to bed?”
I drag my teeth over my bottom lip as she stands there with one hand on her hip in just a pair of underwear and the hoodie she’s been wearing all night. “Fine. You’re sleeping in my room tonight.” There are too many people here, and I don’t want anyone fucking with her. I don’t need to dispose of another body any time soon. “Don’t even think about trying to leave. The door will be locked, and the alarm will be set. I’ve kept people out of this part of the house for a year, I can keep you in it.” I bend down and grab the boxers then push them at her chest. “T-shirts are in the bottom drawer. I’ll have the housekeeper wash your dirty clothes, just put them in the basket.”
I give her one last glance before I leave. Shutting the door behind me, I walk down the stairs and step back into the main hallway, before setting the alarm.
“Where is she?” Zed comes stalking toward me. His boots heavy on the hardwood floor.
“She’s here. Don’t worry about it.” I push past him and start walking back toward the staircase when I see Tommy and Lars.
“Killer party, man.” Tommy holds his beer. He’s already three sheets to the wind, not surprising.
Zed joins us at the top of the stairs. “Why is she up there?” he asks. All too concerned about the way I’m handling the situation.
“She’s safe up there. She can’t leave and no one can touch her.”
“Including you.” Zed pokes a finger in my chest. “Or was that your plan all along? You think you’re gonna get her all to yourself?”
My hands meet his chest, shoving him forcefully backwards. “Fuck you.”
‘Woah, woah. Knock it off you two.” Lars steps in. “It’s only night one. You can’t start this shit already. We have a deal. No one touches her.” He looks between the two of us. “Got it?”
“No one is fucking touching her, including me. A deal is a deal.” I hold my fist out to Zed, who bumps it back.
“Deal,” he agrees.
I’ll make damn sure no one lays a finger on sleeping beauty. If they do, I’ll kill ‘em with my bare hands.
“Do you think she suspects anything?” Tommy asks, as he sways back and forth with a now empty beer bottle.
“She doesn’t know a damn thing. And she never will.”
5
Reality hits me like a glass of cold water to the face when I wake up. The silk black sheet that tangles around my body is not my own. Pushing myself up as my back slides against the wooden headboard, heavy breaths from someone beside the bed warn me that I’m not alone.
Without looking over at him, I acknowledge his presence. “How long have you been here?” I ask, watching as he stands up in my peripheral and steps beside the bed.
“Long enough to know that you sound like an eighty-year old man with sleep apnea when you’re sleeping.” He fists the black sheet and jerks it off of me in one swift motion. “Get your ass up. We have shit to do.”
Hugging my legs to my chest, I catch a glimpse of him. Fully dressed in a pair of black jeans, black boots that lace up to his ankles, and a solid gray tee that hugs his muscular form. His hair is swept over to one side of his head and a brown cigarette filter peaks out from above his ear. I divert my attention quickly and resume staring at the closed door in front of me. “It’s the day after Halloween. Everyone skips school the day after Halloween.”
His hand wraps around my wrist as he pulls me off the bed. My feet hit the floor next to his while I fight to avoid eye contact. “I never said we’re going to school. I said we have shit to do. We includes you.”
Dragging me like a ragdoll, he takes me over to his dresser where my shorts and underwear sit neatly pressed and folded. He finally releases his hold on me when he tosses them at me. “Put these on.” I catch the shorts as they hit my chest and wait for him to turn around—to leave and give me some damn privacy. “I said put them on.” He taps his bare wrist. “We ain’t got all day.”
I start walking to the adjoining bathroom, but he stops me. “Uh uh. Right here.”
“You’re delusional. I’m not taking my clothes off in front of you.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes slide down to my bare legs. “Fine, you can wear my boxers to your house. Hope Daddy doesn’t mind.”
Hope washes over me, and I’m sure the smile on my face gives me away. “I’m going home?”
“Just to pack your shit and get some pants. We’re taking a little hike today. Might wanna dress the part.”
Any hope is quickly diminished. “A hike? Why?”
His shoulders steel, and agitation gets the best of him. “No more questions. Change. Now.”
He stands there with his eyes glued to me, and I have no choice but to slide down his gray and white checkered boxer shorts. Thankfully, my hoodie hangs down low enough to hide the parts that I don’t want him to see. I watch him as I kick them to the side. His gaze following every move I make. Like some sort of sick pervert who gets off on watching me strip out of his clothes.
Unfolding the shorts, I give them a shake. “Where’s my underwear?” I look up and see him twirling my pink thong on his finger with a shit-eating grin on his face. My stomach churns when he shoots them toward me like a rubber band. “Seriously? Was that necessary?”
Tugging the corner of his lip between his teeth, he smirks. “Might wanna pick those up.”
Closing my eyes, my cheeks fill with air. Puffing it all out at once, I pull the hem of my hoodie down over my ass and turn around, then bend to pick them up. Glancing at him behind me as my head hangs low, his arms are still crossed over his chest. He bends at the waist; his head hangs forward and his eyes meet mine. But not before skimming every part of my body beneath the hoodie. He curls his lips upward. “Nice. But I’ve seen better.”
Such a fucking asshole. Quickly snatching up my underwear, I tuck my shorts under my armpit and slide them on before even turning around. “I don’t even have a toothbrush.” I wiggle into my tight jean shorts and zip them up.
“Use your finger. Or you can use mine.”
“Gross, I’m not using your toothbrush.”
“I know you're not. I meant that you can use my finger. I’ll even let you suck the toothpaste off.”
Pulling my hair out of a ponytail, I comb my fingers through my hair and snarl at him, “Are you always this much of an asshole?”
“Not always. Sometimes I’m a dick, too.”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “Let’s get this over with.” Pushing past him, I head for the door, but he beats me to it. Grabbing the handle and pulling it open as he watches me out of the corner of his eyes.
“No funny business, got it. We go get your stuff. You tell your dad exactly what I tell you to say.”
We step out of the room and start walking down the stairs. Then out another door, where Talon begins punching in a code to set the alarm.
“What about school?”
“You’ll still go to school. But don’t think that you won’t be watched, because you will.” He hooks an arm around my neck, pulling me close, like we’re old friends. The scent of pot and cigarette smoke no longer lingers on his clothes. He actually smells good. Really damn good. Like cedarwood and citrus—pineapple maybe. I catch myself sniffing him, and when he looks down at me with a cockeyed stare, I look down the long stretch of the hallway and see his henchmen waiting at the end.
“Oh yeah, do you have an army of men lined up to keep track of me now?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Who? Them?” I laugh, but I really don’t find it funny because, the truth is, these guys probably will be watching my every move. I just hope no one else plans on me stripping down in front of them. The one and only reason that I didn’t slap Talon and lock myself in the bathroom is because he already learned, and probably memorized, every fold and curve with his fingers anyway. I’ve never been self-conscious about my body. In fact, I’ve done things that most would call deplorable—though I find it satisfying in a weird way. But still, it’s different when it’s not by choice.
“Amongst others,” he finally says when we reach the guys. “You can’t be trusted.” He gives me a push into the arms of Lars. “Until you can, you’ll be handled in the way we see fit.”
Gulping air, I peer up at Lars who has his lips pressed into a firm line. He looks down at me, and my stomach twists in knots when I feel his dick harden against my thigh. His dark brown hair, about the same color as Talon’s, hangs down on his forehead. He throws his head back to brush it out of his eyes while still holding me tightly in his arms. “You hungry, pretty girl? I’ve got something for you.”
“Eww, get away from me.” I push off of him and sneer with disgust.
Talon begins walking down the stairs, and Lars gives me a gentle nudge to follow. All the while Zed is staring at me like I’m some sort of meal that he plans to cut into and devour. I wanna say something. Ask him why the hell he’s looking at me like that, but if I know Zed like I think I do, he won’t even answer me, and if he does, it will be all lies. I’m starting to think that all these guys know how to do is withhold information, lie, and prey on women like their dicks are a gift to us all.
“Come on, shithead. We have to get this over with,” Talon barks at Tommy, who is still standing at the top of the staircase, too busy tapping on his phone to even notice that we were walking downstairs. He quickly sticks his phone in the pocket of his black cargo pants and jogs down. Jumping over the last three steps.
Tommy has more of a babyface than the other three. With ash blonde hair that is shorter on the sides. His eyes mimic the blue sky, dappled with specks of green, and I can see how it would be easy to get lost in them. He offers more of a surfer vibe. Minus the array of black ink sleeving his arm, the small tattoo on his neck and the silver chain linked from his back pocket to his front.
I lean closer and notice that the tattoo on his neck is the same symbol as the box and the door, then it hits me that it’s the same one on Talon’s forearm too. I never even noticed it that first night here when I overhead the guys talking. I guess it didn’t dawn on me until now. I give Zed and Lars a onceover, curious if they have the tattoo as well.
Lars lifts up his shirt, turning his side to me. As if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Staring back at me is a distorted face—half-skeleton, half-girl covering his entire side. On her neck is the snake infinity. “We all have them.” Even more than the tattoos, I notice how well-defined his body is. A six-pack, maybe even eight. A v-line that leaves nothing to the imagination. I already know what it leads to, I felt it digging into me only moments ago. Needless to say, it doesn’t disappoint.
Shaking my head, I try to dismiss the image that is now engraved in my mind. Yes, these guys are all sexy as hell, but they are obviously psychopaths.
“Let’s go.” Talon walks back in the room. I didn’t even know he had left. “Get the car and meet us at the spot in one hour.” He points to Zed. “Do not fuck this up.”
Zed smirks, tossing his hands out in front of him as he walks backward. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Talon’s eyes burn into him, and it makes me wonder if there is some sort of animosity between them. “I know how you are. Reckless and careless. One wrong move and we all go down. Got it.”
Zed salutes him then proceeds to flip him off. Talon shoots daggers at him one more time, before grabbing me by the hand and pulling me toward the kitchen.
“And don’t you forget our deal,” Zed hollers when we round the corner.
Entering the mud room, Talon pulls open the door that leads to the four-stall garage. Three black vehicles are inside. A car, a pickup truck, and an SUV. Opening the passenger side of the SUV, he nods for me to get in. That reminds me, I still don’t know where the hell my car is. Talon stands outside the driver’s side door for a minute, tapping on his cell before he gets in. His eyes catch mine for a moment and there is a calmness I haven’t seen before. It feels so weird to be alone with him like this. Granted, we were alone on the ride last night, and again this morning. But this feels different.
All those feelings wash away as soon as he speaks. “When we get to your house, I’ll walk you in. You tell your dad that you’re staying with a friend for a while. The fucker probably won’t even give a shit, he’s never home anyway.” He turns the key and the engine purrs.
“How do you even know that?” I question. Talon barely even knows me.
“Are you forgetting that we live in the same small town. And that I fucking hate your brother. I know a lot more than you think.”
His words send chills down my spine. I wonder how much these guys really do know about me. I’m sure they’ve done their research. The idea that they have been digging into my past so that they can control my future is painfully surreal.
“Where’s my car?” I ask, as the garage door slowly opens in front of us. My question is immediately answered when I see it parked on the side of the driveway. As we pass by it, I inspect the white paint quickly for any dings or dents, but it looks just like it did when I left it yesterday evening.
The garage door closes behind us as we make our way down the long-paved driveway, hidden by trees on either side of it. Talon’s house isn’t visible from the road, and it’s apparent that a guy like him would prefer privacy. After all, he seems to have a lot to hide. Once we turn onto the main road, I shield my eyes from the sun as Talon flips down the visor in front of me and slides on his black Ray Ban sunglasses.
Engulfed in silence, I internally beg him to turn the radio on to drown out the sounds of my galloping heart. Taking deep breaths, I try to calm myself, but it’s impossible. I have no idea how I will ever convince my father to let me go stay with anyone for a couple weeks. He all but had a stroke when I went and stayed in LA with Axel at the end of the summer. He’s always kept me on a much shorter leash then my brother. He tightened that leash when my mom passed away last year. There are times that I feel like he is choking the life out of me by trying so hard to keep me safe.
We pull into my driveway, and Talon kills the engine. When he reaches for the handle, anxiety kicks into high gear. “You’re coming in?”
“Of course, I’m coming in. You think I’m gonna risk you walking in there and running your mouth?”
“My dad will never let me pack my things and leave with you. It won’t work. You can come, but I’m telling you, you’re gonna ruin your own plan.” I open the door and hop out, shutting it behind me.
Dry heat fills my lungs as I take a deep breath, suddenly parched. As soon as we walk in the house, I go straight to the kitchen and grab a bottled water. Talon stands by idly, watching me as I slam it.
Ruby, our housekeeper, walks into the kitchen. “Good morning, Ms. Thorn.”
I set the empty bottle on the counter. “Ruby, have you seen my father?”
She begins rubbing the rosary that hangs in front of her heart, mumbling something in Spanish as she looks Talon up and down in distaste.
“Ruby.” I snap my fingers until she shifts her attention to me. “My father?”
Rosary still in hand, she scoffs while eyeballing Talon. “Mr. Thorn is in his study.”
When she continues to glance back and forth from me to Talon, out of sheer concern for my safety, I excuse her. “You may leave.”
Ruby is extremely religious, and I get the feeling she thinks that Talon is part of some sort of cult and he’s here to take me prisoner. Actually, that’s exactly what is happening. Let’s hope her little prayer just now has spared my soul from the reapers.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Talon, but he grabs my arm before I can even attempt to step past him.
With his face mere inches from mine, he narrows his eyes and shakes his head. His way of telling me that I will not be going anywhere alone. I huff, “Seriously?”
“You have no idea how serious I am.”
Jerking my arm away, I lead the way. “Fine. But remember what I said. He’s not going to be happy.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He smirks then slaps a hand to my ass.
