Spreading your legs for money was a valid career choice, if the girls did so of their own free will, and were protected from the scum that preyed on working girls. It was an entirely different matter when that choice was taken away from them.
The Priestly gang excelled at grooming young impressionable women—women like Ren’s Susie—who’d barely escaped from their snare, and that was far from all right in Ty’s eyes, which brought him neatly back to the woman currently chained up in their cellar. He hovered outside the locked door, on his slow painful progress toward the kitchen
Which camp did Jeanette fall into? She’d seemed genuinely puzzled at his reaction to her living in Priestly territory, and why that should be a problem. No one was that naïve, surely, not with Myrtle as her sister, and living where she did. Ren’s deep rumble galvanized him into action. The boss was back then and would no doubt be able to answer some questions for him. The kitchen door opened, bringing with it the most enticing smell of chicken, and Ty’s stomach made its presence known.
Ace smirked as he held the door open for Ty.
“Good to see you up at last, man, and hungry, too, from the looks of it. I was coming to check on your wounds. How you holding up there?”
“I’m fine, all present and correct. That’s some neat stitching.”
Ace shrugged and gestured to the chair he must have just vacated, and Ty gratefully slumped down.
“Ty.”
Ren’s concerned gaze ran over him, and Ty mustered a grim smile for his oldest friend.
“I’m good. Like I said to Ace, no need to fuss. Ouch, that hurt.” He swung round to glare at the medic, who’d pulled up his shirt, and was probing the wound in his side.
“Stop being a pussy. Just making sure this holds. You ought to be all right to keep the bandage off it, now, but I’m gonna redo your hand.”
Ty frowned at the zigzag wound winding across the fleshy part of his palm. That, too, had needed stitches.
“Flex your fingers for me,” Ace said.
Ty flipped him the finger instead, and everyone in the room laughed.
“Smart fucking ass. You’re lucky it didn’t cut the tendons.” Ace stepped away to grab the first aid kit they kept in the kitchen, and with sure, deft movements proceeded to bandage his hand up again.
“There, only a light dressing, to protect it, and come to think of it. Let me do that to your side, too. Lord knows what you’ll get up to when you actually get to see the cunt in the cellar, so…”
Ty glared at him, but, before he could say anything, Susie plonked a steaming bowl of soup in front of Ty with so much force the contents slopped over the side.
“Pumpkin.” Ren’s voice held a note of censure, and, sure enough, Susie blanched, dipped her head, and grabbed a cloth to mop up the spill.
“Sorry.” Ty almost didn’t catch that murmured apology, and Susie froze when he grasped her wrist with his uninjured hand.
“Let it go, sweet thing. I said I’d sort it.”
“If you can’t be civil about this, I suggest you leave, pumpkin.”
Susie bit her lip and shook her head, and sighing, Ren held out his arms and Susie rushed into his embrace.
Ace rolled his eyes at the display, and Alex and James grinned around their last mouthfuls of soup. There was no sign of Josh, who was presumably on door duty at the club. Huntly had employed more bouncers since things kicked off with the Priestly Brothers, but at least one of the Cleaners was usually there to supervise.
“Have you decided what to do with her yet?” James asked, while getting up and putting his empty bowl in the sink. “That was delicious, Susie, as always.” He smiled at the woman huddled in Ren’s arms, and she offered him a wobbly smile.
Little Susie was so not happy, and that made Ty’s guts twist anew. He hated being the cause of any distress to her, but the whole lot of them had to realize and accept that Jeanette was indeed his to do with as he pleased, and that he’d had his reasons for going into that estate with her.
He sipped his soup slowly, to give himself time to formulate an argument that wouldn’t come across as though he was being led around by his dick.
Ace and Ren had both been at the club, after all, and had witnessed the chemistry between him and Jeanette firsthand, as had Susie, of course.
Crossing his arms over his big chest, James waited until Ty had finished his soup, before he pounced.
“So, how are you going to deal with the Jeanette being Myrtle’s sister issue, then?” He smirked when his brother pushed his chair back and shook his head at him.
“Subtle as always, bro. Let the man’s food go down, at least. He’s been out of it for two days. I highly doubt he has a plan yet,” Alex said.
Susie tensed in Ren’s arms, and Ty barely suppressed his irritation.
“What would you all have me do? Whether she’s Myrtle’s sister or not isn’t really relevant right now. You all know what that scum would have done to her, had I not been with her when she got back to the estate. She crossed the lines, coming to Huntly and asking for a job. He made her my responsibility and that meant I couldn’t just let her walk to certain doom.”
“If that is what would have happened. For all we know she was sent by the Priestlys to infiltrate us. At the very least to draw us out into their territory.” Ren dropped a kiss on the top of Susie’s head as he spoke, and she snuggled in even more. “You made yourself a fucking target, Ty.”
“And like I said to you then, what would you have done had it been Susie?”
The redhead blanched, and Ren looked ready to murder him.
“She needs her lunch, pumpkin. Go and take it to her, while I have this out with the idiot.”
“No stay, Susie,” Ty said when she made to leave. “I’ll be taking it down to her, and you have as much right to hear my reasons as the boys.”
Ren frowned, but he didn’t insist on her leaving further, and pulling out a chair, Susie sat opposite Ty.
“I would have gone in for any of our girls, and I know damn well you would have done the same. Yes, I know, strictly speaking she isn’t one of us yet, but she did come to Huntly, and he offered his protection. I hazard a guess that’s why he hasn’t ordered her killed yet. Besides, we need to know why she did what she did. So, you want to know my plans? I tell you what they are. I’m going to do my fucking job, that’s what I’ll do. If she turns out to be cheating, lying bitch like her sister was, I’ll kill her myself.”
Susie gasped at that, and Ren nodded with a grim smile.
“You saw her at that audition, boss. She was nervous as fuck. And really pissed at you, which makes sense if she’s Myrtle’s sister, but my gut tells me there is more to that then the obvious. She didn’t appear to have any grasp of the danger she was in when we were heading back to that estate, and had she wanted to, she could have shopped me to the police there and then.”
A collective murmur went around the room, and Ren swore under his breath.
“What the fuck happened?” he asked.
Ty shrugged and instantly regretted that move, as his sore side smarted.
“Got stopped by the cops. Not gonna bore you with the reasons. Suffice to say she went along with the cover story I made up, instead of getting me arrested for assault.”
Ren’s eyebrows shot to his hairline at that statement, and Ace chuckled.
“Hell, that’s more like it. Manhandled her a bit, did you?” he asked.
“Something like that. I’d just found out where she lived, and … yeah…” He gave a short laugh. “It didn’t go down well with me, as you can imagine. Anyhow, like I said she kept quiet then, so for that reason alone, I had to go with her, and that’s why I’m asking you all to give her the benefit of doubt for now. I admit I have no fucking clue what her game is, but instinct tells me she’s not with the Priestlys. Just let me do this my way, okay?”
The boys all exchanged a look, and nodded as one. Susie looked less happy as he got up and held out his hand.
“If you’ll give me her portion, I’ll take it down for her.”
He had to smile at the disgruntled way Susie ladled the steaming soup into a dish, covered it with a plate and tore off a chunk of bread. Freshly baked by her fair hands that morning, no doubt. They had all lucked out when Ren claimed Susie for his own, because the Cleaners had never eaten better.
Having put it all on a tray, she handed it to Ty with a frown.
“There, though I don’t know why you bother. She hasn’t eaten a thing since she got here.”
“Oh, trust me, sweet thing, I’ll get her to eat, and talk.”
Susie swallowed hard at whatever she read in his expression. If he looked as murderous as he felt at the news that Jeanette seemed intent on starving herself, then it wasn’t perhaps surprising that she took a step back into Ren.
The head of the Cleaners smiled.
“Welcome back, Ty. Have fun with that, and holler if you need help. She sure is a spitfire that woman of yours.”
Ty grinned and hobbled out of the kitchen.
Hearing Jeanette being referred to as his woman had a far too nice ring to it. He could only hope his gut wasn’t letting him down and she really was a somewhat innocent in all this.
Chapter Six
The locks at the door of her luxurious prison clicked open, and Jeanette roused from her slumber. Her butt had gone to sleep sitting on the hard floor, where she had more or less collapsed earlier. The lack of food was getting to her, but there was no way she was eating anything. She kicked the tray holding the uneaten pancakes Ren’s woman had brought down this morning, and the chains around her ankles clanged.
Chained like a fucking dog. Who did these assholes think they were? Okay, so she could move, thanks to the long chain attached to the runners to the ceiling. It afforded her enough movement to make it to the toilet, and back into this … whatever the hell this was. Her prison held a very comfortable bed, and the attached wet-room was state of the art, but the cellar also held a myriad of BDSM equipment, half of which she couldn’t even put a name to. She’d recognized the free standing X shaped structure from her reading material. The St. Andrew’s Cross was well padded and clean, as was the spanking bench.
She had to give it to them. They clearly looked after this place. The door opened and shut, and the delicious smell of chicken assaulted her nostrils. Bringing her knees up under her chin, she hugged her arms around her legs and willed her growling stomach to stop.
There was no way she would give whoever was coming down those stairs the satisfaction of knowing how hungry she was. She might not have any control over her surroundings, but she could stop eating. Jeanette stubbornly ignored the little voice of reason in her head which told her that she was only hurting herself. Knowing these Cleaners they’d quite happily let her starve herself to death down here.
“I don’t want it, so you can take that right back up there, or stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
It was somewhat disappointing to not get a response from Susie. Not even a gasp. Maybe the woman was simply getting used to Jeanette’s outbursts. Then again, those approaching footsteps were much heavier than Susie’s, and the fine hair on Jeanette’s arms rose when she got a whiff of far too familiar spicy cologne. It made her stomach cramp anew, and not from hunger this time.
Looking up into the mirror on the wall, she flinched seeing her expression. What little makeup she’d had on, had long since disappeared, her hair, devoid of the smoothing products and heavy duty straighteners she used to tame the willful curls, resembled a bird’s nest, and her bloodshot eyes looked too big for her face.
Not to mention her torn, dirty blouse and skirt. In short, she looked like she felt—fucking awful. Not that the man now standing behind her with a clit clenching scowl on his face looked much better. Jeanette gave out an involuntary gasp when her gaze finally connected with his face. Even the much heavier stubble covering his jaw couldn’t hide the bruises on his skin, nor the swollen, cut lip and black eye. Steristrips held together a cut on his left cheekbone, and the white bandage on his left hand made a startling contrast against his tanned skin.
“You’re alive then.” She inwardly grimaced at both the inanity of her comment and the far too breathy quality of her voice, but, really, God almighty. No man had any right to look so damn sexy. The injuries just added to his bad boy appeal, not least because he’d sustained those in his efforts to let her escape to her flat. His hair was still slightly damp, as though he’d only recently showered and fell over his uninjured eye in a jaunty wave, which made her fingers itch to swipe it back for him.
“So it would seem.” Ty’s reply, accompanied as it was by a smirk, made everything south clench in need, and try as she might, Jeanette couldn’t look away from his searching dark gaze. Like it or not, she responded to this man’s presence on a deep, instinctive level. It wasn’t something she could explain with any rationality, it just was. Which only served to make her angrier. She didn’t want to want him. She didn’t want that overwhelming feeling of relief which flooded her system just by being in his presence, by breathing in his scent, and to know that she was safe—for now, at least. He was just as much a criminal as the assholes who’d chained her up, had killed her little sister. Thoughts of Myrtle brought hot tears to her eyes, and she tried her best to blink them away. She’d cried enough to last her a lifetime, and tears never did any good anyhow. Ty’s harsh expression softened slightly, and stepping around her, he put the tray of food down on top of the spanking bench. When he held out his hand in a silent demand it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take it and to let him pull her to her feet.
The sudden move made her head spin, and when she grasped onto Ty’s side to steady herself, his grunt of pain rang in her ears.
“Sorry, I—”
“It’s okay, titch.” Ty’s husky reply interrupted her apology.
What the fuck am I apologizing for, exactly?
His strong arm came round her waist supporting her, and as the world was still spinning, she gratefully leaned into his warm, solid body. She hadn’t really realized how cold she’d felt, until she was in his arms.
“Here, lean on me, and let’s get you over to the bed. What on earth were you doing on the floor?” Ty grasped her chin with his bandaged hand, and a pang of something suspiciously like regret at his injuries went through her. She really had to get a grip of these emotions. It had to be Stockholm syndrome or something, or maybe she was just too starved of not only food, but also human touch to be reacting to his small act of kindness with such intense longing.
The hold on her chin grew painful when she didn’t reply, and her stomach dropped at the sound of his voice.
“I asked you a question, girl. Do me the courtesy of answering it. I really do not want to get heavy with you, but I need answers. They,” he nodded toward the ceiling, leaving her in no doubt, who he was referring to. “They want answers, if you want to live.”
He smiled grimly at her sharp intake of breath at that statement, and when he traced his thumb over her lips in a gentle caress, Jeanette fought the urge to simply let go. It would be so easy to let her walls down, and she couldn’t do that.
“They’re going to kill me anyway, so why should I?”
A short laugh was her answer this time, and she blanched when Ty slid his hand down to her throat.
“I could snap your neck right here, if I wanted to.” His digits dug into her skin in silent affirmation of that fact, and Jeanette didn’t dare move. Not that she could have done so anyway. There were her chains, for starters, and the small fact she was so weak from lack of food, she would probably disgrace herself and faint at his feet any minute now. As it was she was seeing two of him. Her vision was blurry, and she shut her eyes from that far too disorienting sight.
The tight grip on her neck loosened, and before she could grasp his intentions, Ty had hoisted her up in his arms. Another grunt of pain made her open her eyes. He stumbled, and she brought her a
rms round to hang on to him as much she could. Ty had gone very pale, his face a mask of intent, and they both breathed easier when he put her down on the soft comforter of the bed she’d so far refused to sleep in. Ty sat next to her holding his side, breathing heavily. Against her better judgment she reached out to touch him. The process made the chains, which linked her to the ceiling, clank.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I will be. I’ve had worse.”
“Can I see?”
Wordlessly Ty lifted up his shirt, and Jeanette swallowed down bile. His entire side and torso was covered in bruises, with several clear boot marks visible, and she traced her fingers over the dressing. Spots of blood marred the pristine white, and her stomach churned anew.
“What is…”
Ty swatted her fingers away and stood up abruptly. The instant dismissal stung, and the resulting movement of the bed made her feel dizzy all over again.
“It’s nothing, girl. Like I said I’ve had worse, and I’m not here to talk about my injuries, but to talk about your reason for being here. For wanting a job at the club, and to discuss the demise of Myrtle Jones, and so help me you will give the answers, and you will tell me the truth, or everything that has happened to you so far will seem like a picnic in the fucking park.”
Jeanette flinched, and when Ty stalked back to the bench, and brought the tray over to set it on the nightstand, she shook her head.
“I told that Susie I’m not eating anything, and don’t you dare mention my sister. You and that Ren killed her. I saw the fucking pictures.” She wrapped her arms around herself, yanking hard to get the hated chains to cooperate, and the cuffs chafed her skin. Ty’s large hands closing over her wrists and uncrossing her arms made her look up at him.
“If I take these off you, will you promise me to eat something?”
****
Jeanette blinked in surprise, and in truth Ty had shocked himself by uttering those words. Seeing her yank the chains around, the delicate skin on her wrists looking angry and red, coupled with the fragile mental state he sensed from her had made him angry, however. Irrationally so, and Ty had no answers for this overwhelming drive inside of him to take care of her.
His to Punish (The Cleaners Book 2) Page 6
