One Hundred & Thirty-Six Scars (The Devil's Own #1)

by Amo Jones

Kicking off my shoes in my bedroom and removing my clothes, I make my way to my bathroom. My apartment is nothing special, but it’s cozy, warm, and everything in it is my own. It’s my safe place, something I never had growing up so I appreciate it so much more.

  Turning on the faucet, I let the steam fill up the bathroom before stepping under the hot scalding water, letting it run all over me, relaxing my muscles one drop at a time.

  I rub my hand over my face and think back to tonight.

  Beast.

  The way his dark eyes pull my blue into his. The way his strong jaw sits perfectly on his face. His dark hair, and olive skin that has a natural tan to it. Even the scar that slices angrily down from his ear and across his neck has my stomach in a flutter. My breathing picks up, but I’m too lost in my memories of him tonight to register right away. The way my hands slipped over his torso when I got onto his bike, feeling his strong abs under my hands that made me want to rip off his clothes to feel his skin penetrate mine. The rumble underneath me from his bike, the power it holds, and the power Beast holds combined, is a toxic combination. My pulse quickens, and before I know it, I’m sliding my hand down my flat torso and over my folds. Swinging my head back, a moan slips out of my lips.

  The way he bit his lip.

  Jesus, if that wasn’t hot.

  I start at a pace that’s both slow and menacing—rubbing over my clit in slow circles. A needy silent scream begins inside of me, wanting something else. So I start picturing what I would have liked to do to him tonight after he dropped me off.

  I would have swung my legs over his bike, handing it back to him. When he bit down on his lip, I would have run my thumb over it, watching as his dark eyes stirred with passion and need. I have seen the way he looks at me at times.

  I pick up my pace. Rubbing circles around my clit, grinding my hands up and down my inner folds where they rub effortlessly over my fingers.

  He would have taken me into his arms and kissed me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, wrapping mine into a blanket of passion. I would have slipped my hand behind his neck as he got off his bike, gripping onto his hair. A moan would slip from my lips naturally from being lost in pleasure and driven by nothing else but need. Need to feel him, his mere presence. His warm skin gliding over mine, his hands running, gripping, and squeezing me everywhere. He would have taken hold of the back of my thighs, pulling my short shorts and my panties down, throwing them to the side. Smirking at me from his knees, he would slowly blow his hot breath across my pussy, intensifying the burning need that throbbed between my thighs. My rubbing picks up as I picture him on his knees in front of me, looking up at me with his dark and devious stare, his powerful body enveloping mine. He would bring his tongue out, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he slowly licked in between my drenched folds. My stomach clenches as my soaking wet finger follows the movements of what his tongue would do. Sliding across the little nub between my legs, I add more pressure as my stomach flips and a throbbing begins to pulsate. “Yes,” I whisper hoarsely, rubbing harder and more forcefully.

  His tongue would slide all over me, flicking my nub with his slick, needy, tongue. His hands would wrap around the back of my ass, gripping onto me, pulling me toward his tongue harder, leaving bruises as evidence. I’d grind on his tongue just like I am my fingers. “Holy shit,” I moan out. The steam filling everywhere as my hand speeds up to an aggressive pace. An almighty tight pull comes from deep inside and I know nothing but to just keep going and don’t stop.

  “Holy shit, holy shit,” I groan out loudly.

  Just when I think I can’t reach any higher, I speed up vigorously, and right before I tip myself over the edge, I picture his eyes boring into mine. The way his tongue would slide across my clit roughly while his dark eyes were pinned on mine, dominating my body with his glare. And before I know it, my body is wracking, my thighs shaking, and my pussy clenching as the first orgasm I’ve ever experienced shatters through me. With sweat dripping from my skin, I bring my eyes and mind back into focus, my legs shaking under the sudden tranquility that’s washing over me.

  Realization sets in as to what I’ve just done and embarrassment rushes over me. Smiling and a little confused, I quickly scrub soap into my skin, before washing my hair and stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around me before walking out to my room.

  Standing in front of my long mirror that sits on the opposite side of my bed, I examine myself. I feel different, I feel alive and energized but at the same time, I feel embarrassed. I don’t know why, it’s not like anyone can see what happens in my mind. Dropping the towel, I climb into an oversized T-shirt before walking back out to the living room to get my phone that’s on the coffee table. My apartment is small with one bedroom. It has a poky living room and open plan kitchen with a little porch that sits outside the living room overlooking the ocean. The walls are a clean white, and my furniture is new. A large television hangs on the wall in front of my three seater sofa. I wanted a big one because I love watching television.

  Netflix and chill—that’s me. Only I, Netflix and chill by myself.

  Picking up my phone from the coffee table, I amble back into my bedroom and slip under my covers. Sliding it unlocked, I see a new text message from an unknown number.

  Unknown - I mean it, Meadow. Carry this phone with you at all times.

  Me - Beast?

  Unknown - Yeah, save this number, babe.

  Me - Okay, only because I want to ride on your bike again.

  Beast - Yeah? That can be arranged.

  A blush spreads itself over my cheeks before traveling down my neck at the memories of my shower fantasy. How am I supposed to look him in the eye the next time I see him with a straight face. I need to change the subject away from the bike.

  Me - When do you guys head back again?

  Beast - In 4 days. What are you doing tomorrow?

  Me - Work. I wish I could say it’s lame, but I love my job.

  Beast - What do you do?

  Me - I work with the kids up at New Home. Kids that come from unfortunate circumstances. Like foster care but with feelings.

  Five minutes pass and there’s still no text back. Just when I thought maybe I bored him with my talk, my phone beeps.

  Beast - Sounds interesting. What time do you finish?

  Me - 3 pm?

  Beast - All right. Get some sleep, I’ll text you tomorrow.

  Me - Okay. Good night :)

  After I hit send, I slap myself on the forehead. What the hell was I thinking to put a smiley face? What a dick. He makes me far too nervous for my liking.

  Beast - Night, babe.

  Babe again, something tells me he doesn’t go around calling every girl babe. Putting my phone on my bedside table, I close my eyes and fall asleep with a smile on my face for the first time ever.

  “Yo. What’s got you glued to your phone?” Hella mumbles from beside me.

  “Meadow. Making sure she’s all good,” I answer, pushing the phone back into my pocket. After I dropped her off, I came straight back to the clubhouse where things were obviously just kicking off in true biker style. I feel at home.

  “Oh yeah? And since when did you give a fuck if a girl is all good?” He smiles from around the rim of his bottle.

  “I don’t, but it’s Meadow. Fuck off, Hella.”

  He laughs, sliding a bottle over to me on the table. Hannibal, Toke, Nyx and Ripper pull out the seats beside me and I laugh. “Oh, come on, I’m not spilling shit.”

  “Who is she? Haven’t seen you like that with any other female, Beast,” Ripper asks from under his blond hair which is spilled over his face.

  I shake my head. “I saved her a few years ago.”

  Hella pipes in, revealing all the info he knows. Fucker.

  After all the boys have been filled in, they shut their mouths. It’s a good thing, but they must know that obviously the girl needed my help, and although she doesn’t anymore by the looks of it, I still want to make sure she’
s good. Must be some twisted bond we have from that one night and probably because she’s fucking banging. Her face and body are out of this world, and what’s better? She has no fucking idea the effect she has on men. Either that or she just doesn’t care, both of which work well for me.

  Pushing the chair back, I tell the boys I’m going to bed before I head upstairs and shut eye.

  We’re at the diner the next day when my phone rings in my pocket. Seeing it’s Zane, I swipe it unlocked.

  “Sup man, any news?”

  “Yeah, they want to have a chat tonight.”

  “A chat?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  “That’s very unlike Russians. Who are we meeting with?”

  “They’re sending Preacher. I don’t know him personally, only know of him. Ade knows a bit about him, said we should be good.”

  “All right, when’s this happening?” I scan the table, resting my eyes on Hella.

  “Tonight. To be safe, we need to bring everyone in on lockdown.”

  “Yeah, where’s the meet?”

  “At the falls. We’ll head out once everyone is at the compound.”

  Nodding my head, I verbally agree before hanging up the phone.

  Leaning back in my chair, I fill in all the boys about the news.

  “So that means we can head home tomorrow if all runs smoothly?” Hannibal smirks from his seat.

  Raising my eyes to him, I nod my head. “Yeah, which is a good thing. We still have shit to sort out, and figure out why The Army haven’t made their move yet. We need to start our plan on how we are going to pull them down once and for all. I’m not fucking waiting for them anymore.”

  Hella nods his head. “Yeah man, I agree. I’m fucking tired of looking over my shoulder all the time.”

  A young blonde walks up to our table. “Hey, you guys need anything else?”

  Looking up at her, I shake my head. “Not for me, thanks.”

  Hella cocks his head to the side. “You look familiar,” he begins, dragging his eyes up and down her tiny frame. I roll my eyes and bring my coffee up to my lips.

  Here we go.

  She places her hands on her hips, nodding her head. “That’s because I was at the compound last night and could have to do with…” she stops talking, her face dropping for a second, “…never mind,” she answers, picking up the plates and stacking them on her hand. I look for a name tag, but can’t find one and now that I think about it, she’s not in uniform like the other little waitress.

  Hella chuckles. “Right. You a sweet butt?”

  She pauses, placing the final plate onto her arm before bringing her eyes to Hella. “No, I’m not. I’m Melissa, Phoebe and Meadow’s…” she runs her eyes over to me before smiling back at Hella, “…best friend. Thanks for making me aware that I look and feel like a whore, though, I appreciate that.” She spins on her feet and walks back to the counter. I look to Hella and shake my head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

  He smirks, popping a toothpick into his mouth. “What? Like you couldn’t call that. You didn’t even remember who she was either.” He turns his head to her again, watching her work behind the counter. “She’s fucking hot, though, you think?” he asks the whole table. Everyone mumbles in agreement, as I stand, pushing my chair back. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Walking toward the counter, she watches me in between placing muffins in the warmer. “You look confused, Beast.”

  “Not confused. Sorry about not remembering you… I was a little distracted,” I answer, smiling at her.

  “I know,” she replies with a smirk, wiping her hands off on a tea towel before placing them on her hips. “It wasn’t you who should’ve remembered me. Anyway, what can I get for you?”

  My eyes narrow briefly at the meaning behind her words before deciding to let it go.

  “The address to Meadow’s work? I’m meant to be catching up with her after, but I might go down there now.”

  Nodding her head, she pulls a paper and pen out from under the cashier before scribbling down the address to Meadow’s work. Folding it up, I nod my head at her and push it into my pocket.

  Just as I’m about to turn on my heels, she calls out, “Beast?”

  Spinning back around to face her, I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah?”

  Her eyes run side to side nervously. “Look. I’ve not known Meadow for as long as Phoebe, but I’ve known her long enough to know a bit about her background, though not all. But there’s one thing that I’m absolutely sure on…” she steps through the little door that separates the workers and the customers, “…she hasn’t been with any men. She doesn’t bat an eye at any men and trust me… she has had loads of opportunity—Tommy for one.” Her eyes narrow as she watches my reaction. I don’t bat an eye, I was built to have no emotions, or to squash any emotion that I may have. Obviously, if she had any sort of feelings for him, she would have made a move by now. I don’t think she has, so I’m not worried. If he steps out of the friend zone, I’ll kick him back into place. Fucking rock stars.

  “Carry on,” I edge her. Her eyes falter for a second before she brings them back. “If you hurt her, I don’t care how big you are. A .50 will cut right through all that bulky muscle.” She eyes my body up and down.

  Jesus, this bitch is crazy.

  “Yeah, I don’t plan on hurting her, you can retract your claws, feisty one.” I chuckle at her attempts of stepping on me. Nodding her head, she turns on her step and walks back behind the counter.

  Pacing back to the table, I nudge my head toward the glass doors as we all make our way out. “Jesus Christ, that bitch is crazy.” I shake my head, walking to my bike.

  “What happened?” Hella asks overly interested.

  “Just saying she owns a fucking Desert Eagle and that if I hurt Meadow, the .50 would slice right through all my muscle. She said all that with a little psycho smirk on her face. There’s definitely more to that feisty little blonde than meets the eye,” I answer, placing my helmet on.

  Hella swings his leg over his bike with a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He glances back to the bakery. “Consider me intrigued.”

  Shaking my head, I kick start my bike to life, and pull the address out of my pocket. “I’m going to head over to Meadow. I’ll meet you back at the compound.”

  The fucker needs to learn to leave his dick in his pants.

  Pulling up to Meadow’s work, I switch off my bike and get off. The place is huge. One large white building built exactly like a motel. There’s a little sign that sits in a garden at the front of the complex that reads New Home in cursive writing. The gardens are well kept, and colorful and the building tidy with a fresh lick of paint. Removing my gloves, I push them into the back of my pant’s pockets and make my way to the front area that reads Reception. Pushing open the doors, a little bell rings ahead of me and I walk to the counter where a young girl, maybe around eighteen is sitting, searching through a stack of papers.

  Her head snaps up at my opening the door, as she straightens her shoulders. “Hi! I’m Cassandra, how can I help you?” She’s wearing a tight bun on the top of her head and a whole lot of make-up.

  “Yeah, I’m looking for Meadow?” I answer, scanning her up and down.

  A deep blush sprawls across her face. “Um, yeah, sure. But can I ask who’s wanting her? I have to for safety reasons.”

  “Beast,” I answer, reaching into my pocket to pull out my phone.

  “Okkaay… I’ll be back in a sec.” She dashes out the back while I open up the text message from Hella.

  Hella - What’s that girl’s name again?

  Me - Who are you talking about?

  Hella - The girl from the bakery.

  Me - For fuck’s sake, it’s been 15 minutes and you’ve already forgotten?

  Hella - Yeah, quick.

  Me - Why quick?

  Hella - Because I think Travis here has a little stiffy for her. I want first dibs.

  Rolling my eyes, I send him ba
ck a text.

  Me - Melissa. And good luck, the girl will probably shoot you before she fucks you. Both of you.

  Pushing my phone back into my pocket, Meadow walks out, her hair up in a high ponytail, her cheeks flushed red contrasting off her milky skin. “Hey!” she smiles, surprised but not bothered.

  “Hey, can you leave early? Zane’s getting everyone on lock down,” I answer, running my eyes up and down her body while trying not to be obvious. But damn… the girl is fine. She’s in nothing but white skinny jeans, a dark tank top, and Chuck Taylors. I’m sure the more and more I see her, the more I see her through different eyes. She could be in old rundown clothes and still be more appealing to me than one hundred ho’s on their knees.

  “Um…” she glances down to her watch before looking up to me, “I guess. It’s a little quiet in there at the moment, and we’ve employed another girl. I’ll just get my things. Do you want to come with?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Come in there? Won’t I scare them?”

  She laughs. “No, Beast. They’ll probably find it cool that you ride a motorcycle. Come on.” She gestures to the door, my feet following her before I can stop them.

  Walking down the hallway, it’s all smooth white walls that smell of flowers and bleach—figures. Clean and sweet—chicks definitely run this joint. She pushes open a door that opens out to one large room equipped with foosball tables, activity tables, and televisions. There are bean bags spread out evenly and the walls are painted in white, blue, and purple.

  There are about seven young kids all playing with something different, the eldest can’t be older than fourteen.

  “Hey guys, I want you to meet someone.” Meadow turns her head to me and I smile at her. Why the fuck am I doing this shit? I don’t give a shit about these little shits.