Taking Meghan: Disciples 5

by Sweet, Izzy

  My day is catching up to me.

  “That was nice of you,” Lily says, her smile still in place.

  “I’m sorry, I probably should have asked your permission first…”

  She waves me off, as if it’s no big deal.

  “More coffee?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  Nodding, her gaze drags down me, taking in my ruined wedding dress. “We should probably get you changed before someone else mistakes you for a princess.”

  8

  Meghan

  It’s dark by the time we leave the compound. The sky is overcast, the moon smothered beneath a blanket of clouds.

  I don’t know exactly what time it is, but it must be late, and I’m beyond exhausted. The dinner I was forced to attend with my new ‘family’ felt like it dragged on forever, and I have no doubt hours and hours have passed.

  In the comfort of the car, my eyes struggle to stay open as we drive to only God knows where. It doesn’t help that the seat I’m sinking into is extremely soft, the leather like butter, or that Gabriel has the heater cranked up to full blast with all the vents pointed at me.

  “Warming up?” he asks, his deep, rumbling voice jolting me awake.

  Sitting up a little straighter, I mumble, “Yeah.”

  I wasn’t sleeping, teacher, I swear.

  Reaching up to rub the sand out of my eyes, I glance over at him, catching him looking down at my now bare legs.

  “Good.”

  That’s like the hundredth time I’ve caught him looking at my legs tonight.

  Sensing my attention, he jerks his gaze away, focusing on the road.

  The air in the car suddenly grows thick and heavy with uncomfortable tension.

  I watch his fingers flex and relax against the steering wheel, flex and relax.

  And for the umpteenth time, I curse myself for not accepting Lily’s offer of pantyhose. After swallowing my pride and accepting a dress from her—a very nice, very flattering designer black sheath dress—I couldn’t bring myself to further impose on her.

  Stupid pride. I totally should have imposed on her. If I did, I wouldn’t have had to endure Gabriel’s little touches all night.

  The man can’t seem to stop touching me. Little touches that could be confused for being innocent.

  But I know they’re not innocent, dammit.

  Throughout dinner, he found every reason and excuse to brush his skin against mine. He was constantly reaching across me for one thing or another, brushing his hand against my arm. And when he wasn’t doing that, beneath the table he was rubbing his thigh against my thigh.

  I couldn’t escape his touch or his heat, and it was beyond distracting and frustrating. At a time when I should have been focused on learning everything I could about the people around me, all I could focus on, all I could pay attention to was what the man beside me was doing.

  Eyes still on Gabriel’s hands, I shift closer to my door to put a little more space between us.

  His fingers squeeze around the steering wheel and his body visibly tenses.

  I don’t know what’s up with him, but I don’t like it one bit. The way he’s acting is alarming, and more than a little bit disturbing.

  Out of nowhere, the worst realization ever dawns on me. My tired brain putting the pieces together.

  He was locked up in prison for ten years…

  When was the last time he spent any significant time with a woman?

  Oh god…

  And now he’s married to me.

  I shift closer to my door and Gabriel glances over.

  With a look of concern, eyes narrowing and forehead creasing, he asks, “Everything okay?”

  I nod my head and lean against the door. “I’m just a little sleepy. Where are we going?”

  He looks back to the road.

  Rolling the tension out of his shoulders, he seems to relax. “To a safe house. You can sleep if you like.”

  Yeah, not likely, buddy.

  “I don’t want to sleep.”

  I can’t sleep. I need to remain awake and alert so I can pay attention to where the hell he’s taking me.

  Peering out the window, I try to make sense of the dark landscape passing us by. It’s nearly impossible though, and the fact that I’m completely unfamiliar with this city is seriously not helping.

  “Do you want some music?” he asks.

  I really wish he would be meaner or something. The way he’s being so damn… accommodating is becoming annoying.

  “Sure,” I reply, my eyes squinting at a sign I’m trying to make out in the distance.

  The radio comes on, too loud at first, and I nearly hit the roof.

  “Sorry,” Gabriel mutters after turning the volume down.

  He begins to flip through the stations until finally settling on one playing classical music.

  Really?

  I took him more for a heavy metal kind of guy, but whatever.

  Mentally shrugging my shoulders, I try to concentrate again on the landscape. After a few minutes though, the combination of music, the warmth in the car, and the darkness begins to affect me.

  My eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and it’s becoming harder to stay alert. I shift in my seat, close the vents, and try my damnedest to stay awake.

  But it all seems to be an exercise in futility.

  Outside, the landscape blurs into a dark smear, no matter how many times I blink my eyes.

  And I swear we’ve passed that same sign two times now…

  Are we driving in circles?

  The last thing I can remember is a soft, fleeting touch against my cheek as I fall asleep.

  Gabriel

  While driving around, it’s just as much of a challenge for me to stay on my side of the vehicle as it is for Meghan to stay awake. I know she’s freaked out about being in the car with me again, not that it’s her fault. She’s been forced into this and it sucks for her. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t. Meghan’s got a shitty lot in life right now. Her shitty dad and his connections fucked her over.

  The Irish and the fucking Russians are going to be putting up a hell of a fight now that they’re working together. Alexei’s a fucking psycho bastard whose just got a strong foothold in a neighboring city.

  How the fuck have they gotten so damn big? They must be trucking in some serious bankroll to keep the shit they have afloat.

  We’ve knocked out a huge circuit of their slave trade ring. Their drug trafficking has come to a crawl. Lucifer and the boys were thwarting them at every turn until they bombed the shit out of us. I’m betting we got a shit ton of false information when we looked into who did the bombings.

  The Irish were surely a part of it, not the fucking Yakuza. Irish love blowing shit up, but they’re taking too big of a step forward by aligning themselves with the Russians.

  They brought me out of the cage to get shit back under our foot. Get everyone off our backs. Cause enough chaos and destruction that we forever cement ourselves as the top fucking dogs. I’ll kill every motherfucker I have to, but what’s going to be the cost?

  Looking over to Meghan’s perfect legs, I can’t help myself and reach out to touch them. I have to. I have no choice in my body’s reaction to her. She’s like some fucking bright star and I’m a planet that’s orbiting her so closely for the warmth and life she gives off.

  Ten long years in a fucking cage, every single touch I felt there was a matter of life and death… But not with this girl.

  I’ve been driving around the city in circles just so she’d fall asleep. We’d have been home thirty minutes ago if I had driven straight there, but I don’t want to get into any confrontations with her right now. I’d rather just be with her than fighting and answering questions that will only fuck things up. Not to mention taking her into a house that’s soon to be our home might freak her out a bit.

  The rough skin of my knuckles feels so fucking abrasive compared to the silky flesh it brushes up against. A soft moan comes fr
om her mouth as she shifts in the seat, not away from my side but closer. My breath heaves unsteadily as I switch from my knuckles to the tips of my fingers. She shifts again, but I have to pull away from her. She’d fucking kill me for taking liberties with her, and I wouldn’t blame her.

  Fuck. I’m not Alexei and I don’t need to fucking force my way onto a woman like that worm does.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Turning off the freeway, I push the SUV I’ve been driving back onto the road going home. I need to get out of this fucking vehicle. Being this close to her is driving me fucking insane with desire.

  Desire to touch her no matter the consequences.

  Meghan’s not going to be easy to protect, I can feel it. She’s got this spirit in her that’s nearly unbreakable. It fucking turns me on so fucking badly when she fucking stands up to me. Like I couldn’t dig a chick more than I do her.

  I couldn’t ever be with a weak-willed woman. I want one who is as tough as fucking nails when it comes to what she wants. She’s got that in her, I can see it. I just need to direct her wants and needs to line up with my own.

  Slowing down to find the house that Lucifer and Simon have set up for me, I have to force myself to internalize the fucking laugh bubbling up inside me as I pull into the driveway. It’s a huge fucking house in one of the more affluent neighborhoods.

  This place is fucking big, and I guess some would call it attractive. If this is one of the normal-sized safe houses, as Lucifer put it, I want to see the fucking big ones.

  Fuck me, they’ve got me in the fucking Ritz practically.

  It’s definitely a far cry from the roach motel I holed myself in last night. I figured I didn’t need a house for just me. Didn’t deserve anything really. But with Meghan by my side… I need more. I need things for someone besides myself.

  Pushing the button for the garage door, I watch as it slowly opens up to reveal my new truck. It’s a pretty nice garage, even if it’s void of anything except our two vehicles. Meghan’s going to need something to drive eventually, and I’m not giving her my truck, so she gets this behemoth SUV.

  Meghan moans quietly in her sleep as I lift her up out of the seat. Tucking her head under my chin, I’m struck by how damn small she is in my arms. I like it. Not going to lie about it. She’s small and fucking meaty in the right places. I love how her ass pops out of the black dress Lily loaned her. Her fucking curves make my mouth water.

  She’s a hot bundle of sexuality. Fuck. I can feel myself getting hard just holding her this close. Her hair smells like fucking heaven.

  Walking through the house, I curse my long strides as I want to spend as much time with her in my arms as possible. The thought of setting her down is almost unbearable. But when I finally find a room on the second floor that feels safe and secure away from my animalistic cravings, I know it’s for the best.

  Removing her heels, I drop them to the floor. No need for her to sleep in those torture devices. Fuck, I bet she’s even shorter than me now that they’re off.

  Staring down at her body, my eyes slowly trail up to those beautiful lips and my heart starts to pound in my chest. I kissed those plump lips and it fucking felt like something I didn’t deserve.

  Nothing as good as her should be near something like me.

  Shutting off the lights, I head back the way I came. After today, I need a shower and a beer.

  Meghan

  Warmth surrounds me. As I come to, I realize I’ve somehow been cocooned in a soft, fuzzy blanket.

  At first, I don’t want to wake up. I’m warm, comfortable, and so very tired. It feels as if I haven’t slept in weeks.

  But then the memories rush over me like a bucket of ice water.

  I’m not home, I’m not safe.

  Oh shit, where am I?

  I struggle to sit up, fighting off the blanket wrapped around me. Once I have the blanket kicked off, my eyes strain against the darkness.

  It takes my eyes several seconds to adjust, and I can only make out that I’m in a room, on a big bed. The first thing I do is stick my hands out and check the bed beside me.

  It’s empty.

  Next, I check myself. All my clothes are in place. The only thing I seem to be missing is my shoes, and maybe a little bit of my sanity.

  I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that Gabriel didn’t fuck with me in my sleep. He had every opportunity. I must have been dead to world if I didn’t wake up when he carried me here from the car. I didn’t even wake up when he tucked that blanket around me.

  Speaking of Gabriel… where is he?

  The need to know has me carefully sliding out of the bed. My toe bumps into something hard and it takes me a second to figure out that it must be my shoe. Nudging the shoes out of the way, my bare feet sink into a soft carpet.

  Good. The carpet will make it easier to sneak around without getting caught.

  Slowly, quietly, I make my way to the door.

  When I finally reach it, I find myself holding my breath as I try the handle, half-expecting it to be locked.

  Thank fucking god, it’s not.

  The handle gives easily, and I almost can’t believe it. Why didn’t he lock me in? Does he want me to escape?

  This is too damn easy.

  Still, I ease the door open and peer through the crack I’ve created. Only more darkness awaits me on the other side.

  I wait, holding my breath again, ears straining.

  Faintly I can make out movement, but it sounds like it’s coming from the floor below me.

  Gathering up my courage, I open the door all the way and step out into the hallway, expecting Gabriel to jump out of the shadows at any moment.

  All is quiet though as I make my way to the landing next to the stairs. No surprises. No one jumping out to scare the shit out of me.

  Gripping the rail, I lean forward, watching and listening again.

  A faint light comes from somewhere, illuminating some of the darkness. I can make out a living area. A couple of couches, chairs, and a big entertainment center.

  No Gabriel, though.

  After a couple of minutes, I decide to try my luck and quietly make my way down the stairs.

  When none of the boards creak, I can’t help but wonder if this is a dream. Again, this is too damn easy. It should be harder.

  I creep across the first floor and finally stumble across a door with a stream of light beaming out from beneath it.

  I instantly still, listening.

  Someone is moving around inside. Then I hear the unmistakable sound of a shower curtain being pulled back, followed by the sound of a faucet being turned on.

  I have to assume it’s Gabriel, who else can it be?

  And he’s about to take a shower. My luck couldn’t get any better tonight. I wait until I hear the shower curtain again then I quickly make my way to the front door.

  My legs ache to run, to flee as fast as I can, to get the hell out of here. It’s everything I can do to force myself to walk slowly, to not to give myself away.

  But once I reach the front door, all bets are off. I hastily undo the lock and yank it open.

  I run out into the night.

  The cold hits me, and I quickly remember I’m barefoot. The morning dew chills my feet as I run through the grass of the front yard.

  My breath puffs out in white clouds in front of me, but I don’t care. I’m free. Finally free.

  I can go anywhere I want.

  I run all the way up the street until I reach an intersection and stop.

  Left or right?

  It should be an easy, simple choice, yet it’s not. I have no clue where I am. I have no clue where I’m going.

  I need to reach a phone, but who the fuck am I going to call?

  Panting in the cold, I start to spin in a circle, trying to figure out what to do. I can’t reach out to any of my family, not even my mother’s side of the family. Nor any of the Irish. I guess the only people I can ask for help is my friends from school…
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  But do I really want to drag them into this mess?

  Shit.

  Doing that will probably get someone killed.

  What the fuck am I going to do?

  I guess I can try to hide on my own…

  But with what money? What identification? What car?

  Fuck!

  I grab at my hair, tugging and pulling on it, as I try to figure out what the hell to do.

  Just as I feel like I’m going to scream in angry, helpless frustration, Lily’s words pop into my mind, unbidden and un-fucking-welcome.

  Gabriel will protect you. He’s your best chance at staying alive.

  Goddammit.

  I hate it, but she’s right.

  He might be the only person I have in the whole world…

  Spinning back toward the house I just ran from, I stare at the open front door while I try to think up an alternative.

  I waste precious seconds determining I have none.

  It doesn’t mean I have to accept things as they are right now, though.

  Making up my mind, I run back to the house, hoping I get back before he realizes what happened.

  By the time I reach the open front door, my feet feel frozen and my lungs ache. Closing the door, I have to lean against it a moment to catch my breath.

  I don’t have much time, though, so I straighten my shoulders and make my way to the kitchen. Steeling my resolve, I grab the biggest, sharpest knife from the block on the counter and make my way to the bathroom I passed earlier.

  The light is still on and the air smells faintly of soap and water.

  I try the handle, it gives easily.

  Does he have something against locking the door or something?

  Pushing the door open, I discover the room is not a bathroom like I expected. Rather it’s a bedroom with a bathroom attached to it.

  The door to the bathroom is cracked open. Steam pours out and I can hear the water still running.

  Feeling like a psycho serial killer from a bad horror movie, I stalk toward the bathroom and decide to hide the knife behind my back at the last second.

  Thankfully, the door doesn’t creak as I push it open until I can squeeze past it. A blast of warm, steamy air hits me in the face as soon as I step into the bathroom, and after the cool night air it feels downright oppressive.