Cutslut

by Kim Jones

  His damp, dirty blonde hair is combed back on his head. A shade lighter than the full beard covering his square jaw. His nose, slightly crooked after having been broken several times, is prominent yet complimentary of his face. Even sinister and evil, he’s good looking. Strikingly so.

  “Get my pussy off that motherfucker’s cock,” Cain growls, his hand tightening around his pistol. I slide off Jimmy’s lap and sit next to him on the couch. Though I appear completely at ease, my gut is telling me something is off. And it’s never been wrong.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask with a practiced calm.

  His expression doesn’t change, but he tilts his head slightly. I can’t tell if it’s in warning or surprise. “You don’t know?” Confused, I shake my head. My answer must not be the one he wants because his jaw tightens in anger. He stares at me as if contemplating whether I’m telling the truth or not.

  When his gaze becomes even more lethal and cold, I know he’s decided in his head I’m lying to him. The muscles in his jaw twitch. His nostrils flare. Hands curl into fists so tight, I’m surprised the skin on his knuckles doesn’t split. Then he speaks a single word and it all becomes clear.

  “Pierce.”

  My vision blurs. Stomach free falls. Heart hammers out a hard, unsteady beat. My throat tightens and my tongue feels thick. I’m paralyzed with fear. Stunned by shock. Gutted by memories. All at the mention of his name.

  Pierce.

  My brother.

  The one I betrayed.

  “That’s right. Your brother. In my. Fucking. Town.”

  Pierce is not just my brother. He’s the president of the Devil’s Renegades MC West Coast chapter. And the one who forbade me to have anything to do with anyone involved with Madness MC. They were the bad guys. The rivals. The ones who gave MC’s a bad name. But not even the threat of being eighty-sixed from the Devil’s Renegades or my brother could stop me.

  I was eighteen. Young. In love. I didn’t care what MC Cain rode with. To me, he was just Cain. But in the six years we’ve been together, he’s changed. I can’t remember the exact moment he became a stranger to me. The transition didn’t happen overnight, rather over time. I

  t was the little things I noticed at first—the lack of passion in his kiss. Desire in his eyes. Heat in his gaze. I became nothing more than a possession. A reminder that he owned something that once belonged to the enemy.

  He found pleasure in my suffering. A sick sense of satisfaction in my humiliation. He wanted to express his power through me. He’d made the sister of a Devil’s Renegade his cutslut—a girl he used to get what he wanted.

  Cain’s eyes slide from mine to Jimmy’s. “And he’s doing business with this backstabbing motherfucker.”

  Jimmy’s hands rise in defense. “Cain, wait. I can explain.” He starts to say more, but Cain cuts him off.

  “You betrayed me.” The words are barely past his lips before he pulls the trigger.

  2

  WINTER

  The sound of a bullet exiting the end of a silencer is shriller than I ever expected it to be. It resembles more of a loud crackle like a bottle rocket, rather than the muffled “thump” I’ve heard on T.V.

  I don’t know why I’m not screaming. Panicking. Freaking out about the man whose body leans heavily against me. Whose head rests on the back of the couch only inches from mine. His open, lifeless eyes. Parted mouth. The small trickle of blood oozing from the tiny hole in the center of his forehead.

  Cain looks terrifying, holding the still smoking gun in his steady hand. So different from the man one who once wore an easy smile. Had an infectious laugh. Blue eyes that had the power to melt me. Who was gentle and caring when I was upset. Rough and passionate when he made love to me. The man whose touch was my charge.

  The Cain I fell in love with was young and free. Fearless. A bad boy with the desire to be an outlaw. A thirst for danger. A hunger for me. He was my everything. Now he’s just a cold hard killer with a desire for blood and an appetite for revenge.

  An icy fear runs through me as he glares at me once again. “You fuckin’ knew, didn’t you?”

  I shake my head. “No, Cain. I swear…”

  He lunges, grabbing my throat in his hand and placing the barrel of his pistol so close to my head I can feel the heat from it. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Winter! You planned this, didn’t you?”

  His grip on my throat is tight, but not suffocating—allowing me plenty of air to speak. But it wouldn’t do any good. He thinks I’m in on whatever Jimmy and Pierce had working. And when Cain gets something in his head, there’s no truth I could tell him to convince him otherwise.

  “I’ve been watching every move that motherfucker makes,” he says, curling his lip in disgust. “Ever since you pulled that little stunt of yours.” An involuntary shiver wracks through me at the reminder of that night nearly two years ago.

  I’d escaped. Ran from Cain and made it all the way to San Diego—home of the Devil’s Renegades West Coast Chapter. I knew my brother was on a national run, as was Cain, so I took the opportunity to break into Pierce’s house and steal every cent he had in his safe.

  I was going to use the money to get out of the country. Maybe Mexico. Some place warm. Far away from any MC. I barely made it to the end of Pierce’s driveway when Cain found me. Under the impression that Pierce had given me the money, he lost it. Vowing to kill Pierce if I ever spoke to him or saw him again. And the price I paid for running was far worse than death. Cain promised me I’d never forget it.

  I haven’t.

  I begin to realize that once again I’ll have to endure a pain like that. I’d probably be better off if he just shot me. Because there’s no doubt that very soon, I’ll be praying for death. I guess that’s what you get when you sell your soul to the Devil—a life of never-ending hell.

  Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering why I don’t just kill him. Wait for his most vulnerable moment—mid-orgasm, maybe. While he’s too absorbed by the feeling of ecstasy to notice, why don’t I just shove a pencil through his ear. Cut his throat. Drive a spoon into his heart. Something. I shouldn’t be scared, right? It’s not like I have anything to lose.

  Well, here’s the reason.

  I lack balls.

  Maybe someday I’ll find them, but chances are I won’t. Until then, I’m going to continue to be a coward. You continue to judge me. It’s a free country. Being an asshole is your right. Just like being a chicken shit is mine.

  “Cain,” Theo says, coming closer to get his attention but making sure not to touch him. “Jimmy’s guys are in the lobby. We need to bounce.”

  With a squeeze to my throat, Cain narrows his eyes. “I’ll deal with you when we get home.” I’m jerked from the couch and shoved toward the other room. “Get your shit. We’re leaving.”

  It takes a moment for my legs to work, but I finally make it to where my things are. Cain doesn’t follow, but I can feel his eyes on me as I slip my robe over my shoulders. Grabbing my purse, I discreetly tuck the key fob from my garter inside. I’d love another drink, but before I can pour one, Cain has me by my arm and is pulling me along beside him.

  His grip on my arm tightens as we walk down the hallway. Theo walks in front of us. Rut and Swipe behind. Every eye is open and alert. Already anticipating signs of trouble. We don’t find any until we’re at the doors leading to the parking garage.

  Standing in the breezeway is a small army of Jimmy’s men. Cain shifts beside me and I notice his hand disappear inside his cut. The other tightens around my arm.

  “Where’s Jimmy?” one of the men asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Haven’t seen him,” Cain says with a shrug.

  “He’s supposed to be meeting with your bitch here.” His eyes move to me. “Don’t see how that’s possible if she’s with you.”

  “There a problem here?” Two security guards enter from behind us. Behind them, I can see more are on their way. Cain looks down at me an
d gives me a nod before releasing my arm. Understanding his unspoken demand, I cross the floor to where Jimmy’s men are standing.

  My walk is slow—deliberate. Crossing my ankles on every step, I wear a sultry smile until I’ve closed the distance and am standing only a hairsbreadth away from the one who was doing all the talking.

  “Jimmy’s sleeping it off,” I purr, dragging my nail down the front of his shirt. “He proved his loyalty to Cain and in return, he got me. Do the same, and you’ll get me too. Now…” I move my finger down his stomach toward his crotch—feeling his cock swell from beneath my touch. “Tell these nice men there’s not a problem and I’ll make it extra good for you.”

  His gaze shifts to over my shoulder and I know he’s looking to Cain for reassurance. He must get it because in a throaty voice, he tells the guards, “No problem here.”

  “Good boy,” I whisper on a wink. Turning to look over my shoulder, I flash a smile to the guards but it falters when I see additional security has arrived.

  “I think it’s time you guys called it a night,” a guard says. Cain bristles when he claps him on the shoulder. My adrenaline spikes at the contact. I know what’s coming.

  “Get your fucking hand off me,” Cain growls, his rage barely controlled.

  The guard’s hand curls around Cain’s shoulder. “Come on. Get to movin’.” Already anticipating Cain’s reaction, I slide my heels off my feet while everyone else is watching Cain. When he turns and pushes the guard away from him, I see my opportunity and take it.

  Ducking around Jimmy’s men, I bolt through the door and into the garage. Behind me, chaos has ensued. Someone pulled a gun. The guards are radioing for backup. Jimmy’s men are shouting threats. Theo is promising death to them if they take one step closer. And above it all, rings one word that is more chilling than any other.

  My name.

  “Winter!” Cain shouts, his wrath reflected in his tone. He screams my name again and again—throwing in a couple, “Get the fuck off me’s” and some “Let me go’s.”

  Heavy feet sound from behind me but I don’t turn to see who it is. I keep running. Scanning the painted concrete columns in search of F17—the spot where, according to the receipt in his room, Jimmy’s car is located.

  I duck through an opening too small for Theo or any of Jimmy’s men to fit through. My relief is short-lived when a car speeds toward me from the entrance of the garage.

  It could be another of Cain’s men. Or one of Jimmy’s hoping to capture Cain’s cutslut for leverage to use against him. Hell it could be a bookie Cain owes money to. The cops. Feds. The possibilities are endless.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” I pant, sliding between another barrier that’s almost too narrow for me to fit through. Once I’m on the other side, I climb up a set of wire cables separating the levels to the next floor.

  Though the footsteps have ceased, I can still hear the sound of screeching tires as the car turns the corner. Figuring I can climb to the top faster than he can drive there, I grab the cables and haul myself up several more stories until I reach F—a level below the roof.

  The lot is eerily quiet and pretty vacant leaving me nowhere to hide. Only a handful of cars are parked up here and I jog toward the Lexus in the back of the lot. As I near it, I’m temporarily blinded by headlights. The high beams have me stopping in my tracks and throwing my hands up to block the light.

  Before I can turn and run, I’m grabbed from behind. “Where you going, cutslut?” I struggle against the sweaty arms that trap me. “You promised me some fun.” The voice belongs to Jimmy’s guy who I’d spoken to downstairs. But his voice is drowned out by Theo’s threat as his words echo across the empty garage.

  “That doesn’t belong to you.”

  That.

  Me.

  Like I’m an object instead of a fucking human being.

  In my struggle to get free, I end up taking an elbow to the temple from Jimmy’s guy. Sparks blur my vision and everything sounds far away for a few moments. I’m on my knees now. I hear gunshots in the distance. And the screeching sound of tires. Several men shouting. Then it’s silent and I’m hauled to my feet. Thrown over a shoulder. Darkness starts to take over but not before the unmistakable scent of leather fills my senses.

  Theo.

  He’s taking me to Cain. To where I belong. Where I’ll no doubt live out the rest of my life being tortured and wishing I were dead. It’s been years since I made that stupid decision to throw away everything good for a taste of something bad. And I got way more than I bargained for. Now there’s no escape. No chance of redemption. This is my life. I sold my soul, and I’m paying the penance.

  I, Winter Tews, living dead girl, belong to Cain Malcolvich. I am and forever will be his.

  His property.

  His possession.

  His cutslut.

  3

  JINX

  The stench of another man’s blood permeates my senses as I take another pull from my cigarette. Even in the darkness, I can make out the dark stains on my hands. I should’ve killed those motherfuckers. But I knew my club would say it wasn’t worth it. I think it was. And that’s coming from the man who hates that bitch more than anyone.

  Winter Tews destroyed me. What she took might’ve been only pennies to her, but to me it was a new beginning. A lifeline. A way for me to get the fuck out of the dark alleys I ran at night, cope with all the terrible shit I’d done and finally find some semblance of peace in a life filled with regret.

  Maybe that’s why I snapped. Because nobody has the right to hurt her more than me. It would explain why seeing Jimmy’s guy put his hands on her, rattled my beast’s cage. But when the piece of shit referred to Winter as that, the beast inside me shredded through the iron box I keep him locked in.

  I sure as fuck hope it wasn’t because I wanted to be the one to break her soul. That would make me just like them. A monster. I thought I’d left that life long ago. That I was better. But doesn’t me wanting to hurt her, witness her fall, see her stripped of all that fancy jewelry and designer shit she likely purchased with my money make me a monster, too?

  Even now, when she’s tied up, gagged, unconscious and barefoot, I feel some sense of satisfaction. Like this, in my care, at my mercy, it’s easy to imagine how she’ll be in the weeks to come. How she’ll act like a spoiled brat—fussing over her lack of luxury. Playing the role of entitled princess and demanding she be treated with respect. Threatening me with her big, bad boyfriend. I grow excited at the broken image of her—un-showered. Unkempt. Imperfect.

  But I didn’t see her as a privileged cutslut who’d fallen from grace in the arms of that man. She wasn’t a cold-hearted bitch who’d been knocked unconscious and thrown over the shoulder of Cain’s Sergeant at Arms. And it wasn’t satisfaction I felt at the sight of her like that, either. It was sympathy.

  As I made my way to them, my sympathy brewed to rage. By the time I got there, my wrath consumed me. So I gave them a taste of what they took from her. They may still be breathing, but it’s not without pain.

  Her head lolls from side to side and she whimpers—dragging me back to the present. To what has to be done. To what I’ve waited so fucking long for. She pulls at ties that bind her hands and I look down to find them visibly pale in the darkness. My thumb brushes over her fingers. They’re cold.

  I grab a knife from my pocket and pull on my gloves. After freeing her, I rub the warmth back into her hands while she continues to sleep. Listening to her soft moans as I do. Her muttered string of unintelligible words. Eyeing her long, blonde hair that’s tangled around her face. Her thin, tattooed arms that are limp and lifeless. Her satin robe that barely covers the tops of her thighs, and offers an impressive view of her cleavage.

  “Cain,” she mumbles, crying out for that motherfucker. It’s just what I needed to hear to get my head back in the game.

  Immediately, any warmth I might’ve felt toward her vanishes. I smile as my plans for her resurface. Of cou
rse she’ll have the option to make this easy for herself. But that’s not who Winter is.

  She’ll test my patience—test us all. And she gives zero fucks about the destruction she’ll leave behind. This selfish, cold hearted, beautiful betraying goddess will do whatever it takes to get ahead. Or at least she’ll try. There’s just one little problem.

  One thing she didn’t consider.

  One play she hadn’t anticipated.

  One person she doesn’t even know exists.

  Me.

  4

  WINTER

  When I come to, the first thing I notice is that my hands are free. So are my feet. But as I begin to fully wake, I realize something is in my mouth. I push against it with my tongue. It doesn’t yield in the slightest.

  I move to free my mouth as I lazily open my eyes. My hands freeze in the air when I make out a large figure across from me. His knees are bent with his elbows resting on them. His big, gloved hands dangle in the space between his legs. He wears nothing but black—including the ski mask that hides everything on his face except his eyes and his mouth. Even partially hidden from view, there’s no denying that this man is not Theo. Which confuses me more because he isn’t wearing a leather cut, either.

  A bookie?

  Jimmy’s guys?

  I survey my surroundings and find that I’m in the back of some type of cargo van. The only light comes from the two windows on the back doors. Beyond them is a concrete wall. My best guess is we’re still in the parking garage. Is this the same vehicle that blinded me with its headlights?

  My gaze moves back to the man across from me who hasn’t blinked since I woke up. He just stares back at me. The only things I can really make out about him is that he’s big, quiet and uber scary. I’ve seen my fair share of bad guys. Killers. Thieves. Gangsters and bikers. But none of them are as intimidating as this one.