Hope of the Future

by Ariana Browning

  The one she had slammed into held a scent that tickled her nerves. Hope found it difficult to stay calm. It didn’t just sink inside, begging for a deeper inhale, but there was an air of power to him as well. A man in charge. Had to be one of The Associates.

  Either way, it wasn’t anyone she should stick around and get to know. Unless he was one of those idiots who lived in one of Scott’s high-priced condos. This man’s entire demeanor gave off a formidable vibe.

  The guard by mister power’s side was bulky in his own way and eyed her too close. The guard seemed perplexed. His brain seemed to work at remembering some vital piece of information. When the guard opened his mouth, the one Hope walked into held up his hand.

  “Have I seen you before?” the dark-haired man asked.

  Hope pulled back and straightened. Never a good sign. She adjusted stance and risked a quick glance at her chest. Yes, her hair remained safe in the confines of the hood. She studied the guard. Zane. Now she remembered. Zane was one of the men she narrowly escaped from once upon a time.

  “No, you haven’t.”

  Zane’s brow unfurrowed. He figured out who she was, time to get out of there. Mister power studied her closer. The heat of his gaze swept over her, making her nerves awaken, and she unconsciously held her breath. His aura wrapped around her in a warm cozy blanket. Hope didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay and get to know this man, let him touch her as he seemed interested in doing.

  “You’re sure?” The man asked, not letting it go.

  Her eyes flashed in the dim light. She shook the thoughts away, then ducked for a moment as she tried to calm down before either of the two men noticed. What am I thinking? Her breaths came faster and her body roused by his nearness.

  Hope raised her face, hiding the way he affected her. “I’m sure, get out of my face.”

  When Hope stormed off, mister power called out, “I will remember you. We will see each other again.”

  A shiver ran the length of Hope’s spine. Fear, yes, but interest as well? His voice chased her around the corner, calling her back to him.

  Hope swore Zane said, “Sir?” but figured it was, “sure” instead. Otherwise that meant. . . . No, not possible. He didn’t wander the street. At least . . . she didn’t think he did. Not in Scott’s zone.

  Darrok.

  “Sir?” Zane said.

  “Leave her,” Darrok ordered. The woman turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Her scent hung around long after. It wasn’t the scent of a human, or Amaranthine. Not a Freebird, either. She was something else. Older, stronger, far more powerful. The scent that surrounded that woman, drew him in.

  Her footsteps echoed in the silence, loud and clear. She kept her steps light, but Darrok heard the sound long after anyone else. Sure-footed and cautious. Before that woman had left, he almost had a hold on her. Her heartbeat had quickened when he studied her. She responded to the caress of his aura.

  “I want information on that woman,” Darrok said.

  Zane cleared his throat. “I know a bit about her, sir.”

  Darrok cocked an eyebrow and surrounded the guard with his essence. The guard paled. Darrok’s veil of power tightened. Zane cringed.

  “That woman was the one who killed Carn,” Zane sputtered. “Out on patrol, we encountered her and I turned my back for a second. She turned the tables.”

  Darrok’s eyes darkened in anger. “You’re telling me that woman, killed one of my Amaranthine Guards?”

  Zane was reluctant to be the messenger. “Sir, she’s killed a few of your Guards.”

  The alley grew darker than normal. Zane fell to his knees. Blood dribbled from his nose. He moaned when the intense pain pierced his head. Darrok’s power sizzled through the man’s brain, slowly adding pressure. Zane’s hand flew to his temple, hoping to stop the pain. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, couldn’t even move.

  Darrok turned and stared into the alleyway. The woman’s footfalls had silenced a while ago. All traces of her were gone, nothing left to go on. She erased all signs of herself.

  Darrok turned back to Zane and calmed. Zane rose to his feet, then wiped the blood from his nose. The guard returned to his ramrod stance. The muscle in Darrok’s jaw worked.

  It’s her . . .

  His lips twitched. His gaze darkened further when he turned to Zane. The man paled. “Find her.” Zane’s head almost broke off with the speed that his head bobbed up and down. “I want her . . . now.”

  Arriving at Scott’s, the vvvrrrrrr of the Cleaners heightened as they drew closer. The Cleaners were doing a second sweep of Scott’s zone. Hope had been wrong. The Cleaners hadn’t moved on. Hope flew down the stairs to the door. Unable to shake the weight of the dark-haired man’s analytic gaze. Time to keep a lower profile. Something about Mister Power scared her.

  Pure evil.

  If Scott accepted her—when didn’t he?—Hope would have to get a new look for a while. A new everything. Time to move on and become a ghost. This zone was no longer safe.

  Nearly colliding with another female stumbling down the cement steps, Hope stopped next to the woman. “Alyson,” she whispered.

  The woman stopped and turned. “Hey thar’ Hopers!” Alyson slurred. Long black hair draped over her face, the woman shoved it back a few times before it stayed. Known on The Streets as Aly, only the closest called her, Alyson.

  “How’r yooz t’ngh’t?” Alyson gave Hope a goofy grin.

  Hope shook her head. “Let me guess. Scott?” One of his favorites. Scott loved to get Alyson wasted off the newest craze: fantasy. A new alcohol that made people far too happy. Many had died from the drink. They couldn’t say no. Beyond that, people risked stupid things for the pleasure the alcoholic beverage gave.

  Alyson’s eyes had the glazed look of a drunk. “Howja know?”

  Hope gave a slow shake. “Wild guess. How about we get you inside?” Alyson nodded, too eager to please.

  The moment Hope’s arm wrapped around the woman’s waist, Alyson became dead weight. With a grumble, Hope lowered Aly’s limp body to the steps. When she faced the entrance to Scott’s Sex Club, she did six sharp raps on the metal door, paused, then repeated twice. Scott had dark humor.

  A slit in the top popped open and dark blue eyes peered out. A deep voice rumbled, “Pizza?”

  Hope was supposed to make a crude reference to the toppings, but wasn’t in the mood. “Open the door, Daz. Alyson passed out on the steps. I’m not carrying her damn ass inside.”

  Daz’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t know any Alyson. Fuck off.”

  Hope glared at Daz, then stabbed her hand through the slit before Daz could shut the peephole. The reward of a squawk filled her ears.

  “Know who it is now?”

  FIVE

  THE SLIT CRASHED SHUT, the locks disengaged, the door opened. As wide as the door, Daz was pure muscle, covered in tattoos. Seeing that giant standing there was enough to make most men turn and run. Daz crossed his arms with all the malice in the world, causing his muscles to bulge.

  “Really, Hope,” he barked. “What was that for?” He rubbed his eyes. They were all red from the good poke he just received.

  Hope shrugged. “Should’ve opened the door.”

  She had known Daz far too long to be afraid. There were times this man was the only wall between her and Scott’s anger. They went back. Still, he was crude and revolting and pushed her last nerve. Then again, Daz considered Hope a cold-hearted bitch. Could be why they were a semblance of friends.

  “Where is she?” Daz muttered, moving past Hope.

  Hope cocked a thumb toward the stairs as she moved out of his way. The distant whir of the Cleaners grew ever louder and she had to raise her voice. “Not hard to spot.”

  “Scott is in the back with Becks. I’m sure he will be happy to see you. I know I am. Wanna feel?”

  Hope slammed her hand into his crotch, squeezing until Daz gulped in pain. “Hard to tell.”

  “Okay! Shit, woman.
Got the point, you’re pissed. What’s new?”

  Raising an eyebrow, Hope agreed with a curt nod. True. Hard for anyone to stay on The Streets long without being a hard case. “Thanks, babe.” Hope tapped him on the nose when she left.

  As Hope strolled through the club, familiars called out, “Hey Hope,” while others who had never met her tried to hit on her. Those few individuals were lucky she had to speak with Scott; otherwise, she’d teach them manners.

  Not wasting time to knock—she never did—Hope burst into Scott’s office in the back. Scott was on the phone and went to tell her to get out. When he saw who it was, he froze.

  “Get—oh, it’s . . . one of my girls. I will have to call you back. Understood. Sorr—right.” Sliding the clear plastic phone back into the flattened state on his desk, Scott’s brown eyes slid over Hope’s body. A slow smile curved his lips. “Been a long time.”

  Scott never found it hard to find a woman to warm his bed at night. Hope had met Scott soon after the world had crumbled. He took her in when Hope had nowhere else to go.

  A man on The Streets told her of a place she could go, brought her to Scott, but hadn’t said a word about the Sex Club part, or that she was his currency to get in. Having found Hope so rare and interesting, Scott had given the man an extended length of time in one of the high-rise condos. A luxury suite that few had ever experienced. From day one there had been an interest between Scott and Hope.

  It took a long time before Scott convinced her to give in to him. He almost forced himself on her in the beginning, but Hope had learned. Not only of Scott’s hunger for her, but of his temper.

  When Scott was younger, The Associates recruited him to join the Amaranthine Guard. The unit who remained forever at Darrok’s side. The Associates banished Scott when they found out he lacked control over his temper. He was a sociopath, what he lacked kept him beyond wild.

  Hope tried to run a few times before she gave up the fight. She was young. Not yet having learned of her true potential, or what she could do, Scott had every advantage. He was dangerous, and she, a frightened child.

  When Hope finally got away from Scott, she swore never to come back, but whenever she needed a place to hide, the door to this club opened without a word. Scott’s only rule: she stay in his bed. She agreed with great reluctance. There was no admittance to his club without it, no admittance to safety. After all, there was only one thing that ever calmed Scott’s temper.

  Women.

  Hope, especially.

  Unless Hope told him “no,” then all hell broke loose. Scott didn’t think twice about throwing a woman across the room, yet he found Hope addictive. He was a strong man who learned long ago how to manipulate Hope into giving him what he wanted.

  There were many times because of Scott’s ability to manipulate Hope that she avoided coming back to this club. It never failed that the feeling of being caged hit her once she was there a while. By that time she left, yet each time, she had to trick him into letting her go, or find a new way to escape.

  Scott himself was an attractive man. Dark brown eyes, dirty blonde hair soft to the touch. A body built for fighting and the stamina to match. What gave him away was that gaze. Far too intelligent, those eyes could scorch, or seduce.

  The stare was too much. She clenched her teeth and focused. The encounter with that man in the street had her aroused. Hope meandered around Scott’s desk and Scott turned his chair to welcome what she wanted.

  Hope straddled his lap and kissed him. Scott’s hands swept up her spine, caressing her, returning the kiss and deepening it. If there was one thing that could keep her coming back to this man, it was his kiss. Hope purred and dragged Scott closer, relaxing into the pleasure.

  A whisper of a voice came from the side as the door opened, “Whoopsie.” One of Scott’s girls came in, and then backed out, clicking the door shut.

  Hope needed to find out who the man from the alley was. As much as she didn’t want to, she pulled back. Flicking Scott’s upper lip with her tongue, she climbed off before he stopped her, then went and stood in front of the desk again.

  Scott’s temper blew. “Come on!”

  “I need to ask you something.” Why was he so mad, Hope mused? Who did he think taught her that move? There were many times Scott left her wanting, until her body ached so bad that she came begging him for sex.

  “I need a place to crash. Also curious if you could help me remember someone.” She waited.

  “You believe you are so important that you can work me up, then leave me hanging, and I will jump to help you?”

  He picked up a pencil and it cracked under his pressure. His knuckles were white. The anger didn’t bother Hope. He would help. Scott had a soft spot for her.

  “Good. There is a man who can’t be allowed—”

  “Why would I prevent business from coming in?” he interrupted, throwing the broken pencil onto the desk. He leaned back, regarding her with a wary eye.

  “Oh come on,” she said. “I wouldn’t ask unless it was important. He tried to kill me.”

  Scott grinned and held up a hand. “Who hasn’t?” He motioned for her to continue, then tapped his finger on the desk.

  “Well,” she dragged out, then told him everything, leaving out the man in the alley. At least for the moment.

  Scott was staring at her mouth by the time she finished. “Will you be here a while?” He grimaced. “You look grungy.”

  “A month maybe. That is if you allow me that much.” Hope pushed the hood from her head and gave him her most infectious smile. He grinned and shook his head. “Maybe longer. I’m not sure. I’d be inclined to stick around if you granted that favor.”

  Scott ogled her while Hope removed her coat, allowing his mind to wander. She shook her hair free, and Scott’s pupils dilated. A soft smile caressed her mouth. The thoughts in Scott’s mind were obvious.

  “Done. Stay as long as you like. Other question?”

  Hope nodded. “A man. Tall, dark, reeks of power. Has this pure evil vibe. Dark eyes, too. I swear I’ve seen him before, but can’t place it. Don’t know why.” At the huge grin Scott gave her, she asked, “Do you know who I’m referring to?” Scott chuckled. Hope leaned over his desk in clear threat. “Knock it off. Who is he?”

  “Down, girl.” Scott shook his head. “Leave it to you to run into him. And yes, you’ve heard me talk about Darrok before. Evil vibe? Sounds like ‘im.”

  “What?” she said, her voice rising a notch. Scanning Scott’s office, Hope shook her head. “You can’t be serious. Why the hell would he wander around The Streets at night? In your zone of all places?”

  Scott shrugged. “To think, this is the man whose guards you’ve killed a few times. Priceless if you ask me. And I bet you piqued his interest, babe.”

  “Don’t call me babe. There is a chance he hasn’t thought twice about me,” she said, not believing her own words.

  “Sure. You walk past him, I can promise he would want a second look.”

  Hope glared. “I didn’t walk past him. I walked into him. Big difference. Bitched him out for it, too.”

  “Typical Hope. Good thing you came by. Best you keep a low profile for a while.”

  Hope nodded. “Don’t believe for one second I’m yours.” She pointed a finger at Scott. “Think you can keep me here to yourself and I’m gone. Understood?”

  “Understood,” Scott said. He was lying. Unease settled inside of her like a hard lump of reality.

  “I mean it, Scott,” she said, warning him not to try anything. Scott merely smiled.

  Scott led hope to his place in the back of the club and told her the clothes she left were still in the closet. There was never reason to throw those dresses out. Despite how many times she told him she wouldn’t, Hope always came back with the belief that this was her safe-haven. Scott went to great pains to make that true for her because it benefitted him. Then Hope always came back to him.

  Once Scott finished with Hope, he went b
ack to the office to call Darrok. Praying that the man didn’t take it personal that Scott had to hang up when Hope entered. It wasn’t as though they could continue the conversation about Hope, while she stood there in the room.

  Darrok called to gain information on the mysterious female he ran into out in The Streets. Because of the connections Scott had, that was among Darrok’s first calls. That was the thing with running a sex club. If it involved women, Scott was always at the top of everyone’s list of numbers to call.

  Once connected, Darrok was curt. “Explain.”

  “The woman you asked about. When I went to say her name, guess who showed up? Hope came here seeking a place to stay.”

  Darrok’s anger changed into interest. “Tell me more.”

  “Hope told me about an attack from a few of your guards. Men she dispatched. Then asked about you. Or a man she ran into. Curious if I knew him. Seemed interested. I gave her a month.”

  “Can you keep her there longer?”

  Scott hesitated. “You’re not going to come get her?”

  “No. There are a few things I must have done first. I’m sure you can take care of her until then?”

  “Sure.”

  “You said she seemed interested. How so?”

  “The way she mentioned you.”

  Darrok paused and grew silent for a moment, considering Scott’s words. “I will send a few men to come and get her in a month. Keep her close. You’ll get your money after.”

  “You should know something.”

  Darrok remained silent.

  Scott took a deep breath. “When she says she wants to stay a month, I doubt she will. Hope gets restless. Can’t stay in one place for long. Also, you’ll want to add a couple extra men to the list. Let’s just say the woman doesn’t tolerate being told what to do, or being forced into anything.”