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Closer: A Blind Date Bad Boy Romance

Page 21

by Cassandra Dee


  Just as she reached a private door, Joy looked back at him, purring, “Come on big boy, let’s get a private room,” and with a swish, they were through the entryway.

  I pranced behind them, winking at customers along the way, pausing only when we got to the long, dark hall. But Joy was already at the far end, still pulling Jimmy along with her pussy, tantalizing him, clamping down to keep his fingers locked in her cunt.

  And with a smooth move, she opened the door, ushering him in.

  “Come on,” she breathed. “Karlie and I will show you a good time.”

  And that was my cue. I signaled and in a flash, Colt and Cain appeared, hurtling into the small back room, their massive bodies moving at light speed despite their bulk, shoving Jimmy in before the door clanked shut, leaving Joy and I gaping at each other on the outside.

  Within a few seconds we heard a howl of anguish, the cry of a frightened man. And was it my imagination, or did liquid start to run from under the door, pooling wetly on the concrete floor, the smell pungent with fear? Oh yeah, my steps had made Long pee in his pants, literally soak himself … and he deserved it.

  Because Jimmy had wronged us in a bad way and vengeance would be ours. My steps were there to make sure of it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Colt

  I probably shouldn’t get into details about what happened in that room. I mean, it wasn’t like we were waterboarding Jimmy, but two football players versus an equipment assistant slash cafeteria cashier? No contest, no bullshit, the pain only goes one way.

  We beat him, yeah, that’s obvious, and we know how not to leave marks. Football is a contact sport, we know how the body works, where to strike, when to pull our punches, how to triple the terror so that your mind’s screaming with pain even as your throat clenches silently in agony.

  There are non-violent ways to solve problems but Cain and I don’t preach that story. We’re about action, going for the kill when necessary, and Jimmy Long’s number was up.

  So yeah, when he came out of the room, he was worse for the wear. The dude was almost unconscious, his head lolling back and forth, supported between my twin and I. It was a joke. He was so scrawny that either of us could have slung him over our shoulder except that neither of us wanted that kind of physical contact with the loser.

  We lowered him into a wheelchair Karlie had waiting, her eyes big.

  “Brothers, is he going to be okay?” she breathed. I could tell why she asked. Although there was neither blood nor bruises, the small man was lethargic, the whites of his eyes visible, his breathing labored.

  “Oh yeah,” grunted Cain. “Trust me, he’ll survive because he’s gotta testify before the NCAA.”

  And that was the second part of our plan. Jimmy was about to write a letter to the NCAA retracting all his claims, stating that he’d made the whole thing up as a misguided effort to blackmail Karlie. Our favorite girl had already ghost written the letter and she pulled it out now.

  “Come on Jimmy,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Time to sign.”

  And I was merciless. I grabbed the dude’s limp wrist, helping him form a fist around the pen.

  “No cameras around here, right?” I growled, scanning the walls and ceilings.

  “None,” confirmed Karlie.

  And that was that. With his hand in mine, I signed the letter with Jimmy’s name, topping it off with a flourish. Okay, it was a little shaky but what needed to be done had to be done.

  Karlie whipped the letter away and stowed it into her purse, to be mailed to the Commissioner himself. In the meantime, Cain went outside to find the dude’s car.

  “We’re going to drive him home?” she asked timorously.

  “Yeah,” I grunted. “Our job’s not over yet. This fucker’s getting a ride with us as his chauffeurs.”

  And that’s what happened. We wheeled him into the car, positioning him in the backseat, even strapping him in with a seatbelt. So close to the end zone, there was no sense in risking his life.

  Slowly, we pulled into a shitty neighborhood, the yards overgrown, the houses dumpy, the bark of pitbulls audible behind rotting fences.

  “Man, he’s from here?” growled Cain, his eagle eyes scanning the scenery. I knew what he was thinking. Poor Jimmy Long, he must have been from some trashy family, if he even had any family.

  But pretty soon, we pulled up to a duplex, the paint fading, the shutters sagging on their hinges.

  A woman ran out when she saw the car pull up with Jimmy slumped in the backseat. Her hair was in curlers, dark roots with the most awful bleach, too much make-up, dressed in ripped denim shorts.

  “Jimmeeeee!” she screeched. “What ya done now, ya fuckwad?”

  “Who are you lady? His mom?” grunted Cain, eyeing her with disgust. I’d gotten a glimpse of her teeth and they were rotted, open sores on her face. Yeah, she was probably a meth user.

  “His mom?” screeched the woman. “Fuck you, I’m his baby mama! Me and Jimboy, we have two kids together.”

  The three of us stopped in our tracks, gaping at each other. Shit, Jimbo was sleeping with this? Even worse, he had kids with her? Life was tougher for Jimmy than we’d previously thought. No wonder he’d thrown himself at Karlie, hoping for a piece of her delicious ass, going so far as to blackmail my brother and I. His life was so twisted and depressing that he was willing to risk anything for a high, pretend he was someone else.

  But Cain and I were done with the douchebag. I was tempted to leave him on the sidewalk, let the witch get him inside, but Karlie’s eyes pleaded with me silently. Oh yeah, our sister was too nice, too giving, and I nodded my assent.

  “Come on,” I said to my brother. “Let’s go.”

  And we hauled his scrawny ass inside, leaving him right inside the door. Heartbreakingly, we could hear a baby crying, its howls loud and angry even as the sickly smell of marijuana hung heavy in the air.

  “Listen bitch, stop toking with your kids here,” growled my brother to the woman, who’d followed us with her bare feet.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” she screeched. “What you done to my man? You owe us money for this damage!”

  I looked around the home skeptically. The furniture was broken down, the carpet with obvious burn marks, a pile of something indescribable in the corner, the windows papered over.

  “There’s no money that can help you,” I ground out. “But I’m tempted to call Child Protective Services.”

  “You take my baby away from me and you’ll regret it!” screeched the woman again. Looks like threats and blackmail ran rampant in this family unit.

  I just shook my head at her, my massive form taking up way too much room in the tiny, dank space.

  “Come on,” I said to my brother, “Let’s get outta here.”

  And we were back outside, our sister waiting for us, her eyes big as she watched.

  “Everything okay?” she asked quietly.

  I loved Karlie for that. She hadn’t questioned our tactics, she understood the value of quick action and a “Shock and Awe” strategy. Because yeah, we’d completely overwhelmed the enemy, pounding him into the ground as necessary.

  “Fine,” I said, slinging my arm around her tiny shoulders. “Let’s beat feet.”

  And holding her close to me, her slight form pressed against my big body, we made our way out of the trash … and into the light.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Karlie

  I wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, everything football-related was resolved. The letter from Jimmy retracting everything set the ball in motion, and Colt and Cain were cleared after a hearing.

  We’d been at the NCAA’s local office, sitting in a chilly conference room as an inquiry took place. Jimmy was being questioned by officials and it was the twins’ right to observe, to confront their accuser.

  “So you made all this up?” asked a dude in a slick suit, his hair combed back. I hated lawyers but evidently one was necessary, and m
y brothers had retained the best in the business.

  “Yeah,” answering Jimmy nervously, his voice trembling a little. I noticed that he hadn’t looked at the twins since entering the room, that half of the room off-limits, his head turned at a forty-five degree angle the entirety of his testimony.

  “Why would you do that?” asked the attorney. “Please speak to the panel, the allegations are serious.”

  Jimmy shook even more, his narrow shoulders visibly trembling as he looked down at his hands.

  “I wanted to date their sister,” he said in a small voice. “She was so tempting and I figured that if I blackmailed them, she’d go out with me.”

  “And who is this girl?” continued the lawyer.

  “Kar-Karlie Jones,” stuttered Jimmy.

  “Is she here today?” asked the lawyer.

  “Yes,” said Jimmy, pointing to me.

  “Please note that the defendant has pointed to one Karlie Jones, seated to the right of podium,” intoned the attorney.

  And my heart curdled as a roomful of observers turned to stare at me. Not only were our parents present, but there were coaches, recruiters, reps from different athletic departments, anyone who might be interested in Colt and Cain’s football careers. This was serious business.

  I was dressed in a somber navy suit, my hair pulled back in a tight bun, but I dreaded what was sure to follow.

  “And what did this plan for blackmail consist of?” asked the attorney. “Remember, you’re under oath.”

  I took a deep breath. Here’s where it would all come out. My escapades as a Donkey girl would be revealed, my penchant for dancing nude, displaying my body for dollars. Here’s where everyone would find out on the record that I’d had sex in public, and with my brothers to boot.

  But Jimmy committed the equivalent of perjury.

  “I figured she’d do anything for Colt and Cain, she’d date me if I helped them win, so I deflated footballs pre-game thinking that she’d like me more,” he mumbled.

  “And that’s it?” asked the attorney skeptically. “What was all that about the … let’s see here, ahem, the so-called Donkey Club?”

  Silence for a moment.

  “It was fake,” Jimmy mumbled.

  “Excuse me?” asked the attorney. “You made it up? Why would you do that?”

  “It was all fake, okay?” Jimmy said, his jaw clenched. “I made it up so that Karlie would be humiliated. She wouldn’t go out with me, she wouldn’t even give me the time of day, so I made it up to hurt her. That she was a stripper, that she made money on the side dancing, that she took off her clothes for money. To humiliate her, to humiliate her brothers.”

  “So there is no Donkey Club?” asked the attorney.

  Another pause. What was he going to say now?

  “I mean, yes, there’s a Donkey because I looked it up on-line, the place exists,” said Jimmy tightly. “But whether Karlie danced there, I can’t say,” he said.

  “So she did?” asked the man again. “I’m sorry, please answer the question.” Man, my head was already spinning with confusion from the web of questions and answers, being a lawyer isn’t easy.

  “She didn’t,” said Jimmy again, looking down. “At least, not that I know of.”

  And that was that. The attorney led Jimmy through another series of questions, this time about whether the balls were deflated, and of course Jimmy said he’d made it all up. The whole story had been a hoax, he’d been looking to hurt me via my brothers, and had succeeded in the worst way.

  “So in conclusion,” pronounced the lawyer to the Commissioner and assembled panel, “Jimmy Long is a misguided boy, someone who needs help. He did this all because of a woman, but is that really so surprising? Troy fell because of Helen, and here, our equivalent femme fatale is Karlie Jones.”

  My heart sank again, this ordeal had been painful and I hated the comparison, the allegation that I was some kind of seductress. But all things considered, I was getting off easy. My secret life as a dancer was still secret, my brothers’ football careers were still intact, and most importantly, no one knew I was sleeping with my steps.

  But I was confused, the whirring in my brain on max because I didn’t know what to think about the twins anymore. On the one hand, I hadn’t protested when Colt and Cain proposed physical harm to Jimmy. It had turned my stomach, but I recognized how important it was to reverse the situation, letting the allegations linger and stew would damage them forever, their reputations, their integrity, their ability to lead the Eagles.

  But on the other, what happened made me shrink back with horror, the thought of physical violence terrifying. And the twins … they’d been experts in that little room, I’d heard the screams myself, the dazed confusion of Jimmy once he exited, the flicker of undisguised horror in his eyes. Maybe the damage hadn’t been visible, but he was clearly never going to be the same again.

  And so when Colt and Cain had reached for me after that fateful night, I’d drawn back a little, shuddering a bit.

  “Brothers, I don’t know,” I said softly.

  “Don’t know what?” growled Colt, eyeing me hungrily. If I wasn’t wrong, the beating they’d administered had made their testosterone crest judging from the bulge at his crotch.

  Cain was even bolder. He unzipped and whipped out his dong, the full fifteen inches already hard, pulsing with arousal, his glans deep purple and leaking with pre-cum. And god, I was tempted to forget everything, to act like nothing had happened.

  “Taste it, sister,” he invited, looking at me with a gleam in his eye, already pressing down on my head with one big hand.

  But I squirmed away, squaring my shoulders.

  “I can’t brothers,” I said firmly. “Not right now … maybe not ever again.”

  That stopped them. Colt and Cain eyed me warily.

  “What’s wrong?” ground out Cain. “You love cock. You love our cocks,” he clarified.

  “Yes,” I replied slowly, “but after what’s happened, it’s just too much, you know?”

  “No, we don’t,” rumbled Colt dangerously. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  I looked at them straight, taking a deep breath, rehearsing the answer I’d practiced.

  “I know you had to do what you did to Jimmy,” I said, my voice stumbling even though I’d replayed this scene in my mind countless times. But I had to finish.

  “I’m just not sure I’m okay with it,” I said. “I mean, I’m a photographer but I’m not a war photographer. I take stills, portraits, sports, animals, babies, you name it. There’s never any blood or violence, and I … and I’m not sure I know you anymore,” I finished helplessly.

  “What is there to know?” ground out Colt, shaking his head. “We’re simple guys and besides, you already know everything about us. You know us inside out, our bodies, our lives, where we’re headed, where we’ve been. What’s causing this?”

  God, this was an impossible task.

  “I guess I just never thought I’d be dating men who hurt others,” I said slowly. “Jimmy’s never going to be the same, you know.”

  My brothers were silent, looking at me.

  “Damn right,” said Cain. “That fucker deserves it.”

  But Colt was a little more understanding.

  “Sister, we get it,” he said soothingly, his hand reaching for mine. I let him hold my hand, my palm swallowed in his giant one. “Take your time. You need to work things out.”

  I shot him a grateful glance, thankful that someone understood my dilemma, the way my heart felt like it was torn in two. Because I loved them, Colt and Cain were my everything, but I wasn’t sure I could be with them, not after seeing how they’d beat Jimmy so badly. I guess true love isn’t perfect, there are so many nuances and I wasn’t sure how to navigate this.

  “Karlie,” interjected Cain with a dark look, “how long is this going to go on?”

  I understood what he was saying. Men like the McKessons are alphas, they didn’t have forev
er, they wouldn’t wait forever.

  But I was only me. I took a deep breath because I wasn’t sure about anything at this point, whether there was a timeline, whether I would ever get over my distaste. But I would try.

  “I don’t know brothers,” I said soberly. “I’ll do my best to figure it out, I really will, but I’m confused inside. I just don’t what to think, everything’s jumbled.”

  And my brothers gave me searching looks, their bodies still hard even after my confession. Because what could they do? If you love someone, let them go, but would I come back? Or were our lives going separate ways from now on?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Karlie

  “Mom, I don’t know,” I said helplessly. “I just don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know?” asked Karla, her voice pleading. “Why haven’t you applied to school? Are you not going to college at all now?”

  “It’s not that,” I said helplessly, “it’s just that ….” My voice trailed off.

 

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