by M. L. Beeson
Fuck, this spitfire really is good with a blade. Turning back to me, Ginger smirks a cocky shit eating grin, and asks Riley for another shot. I try to ignore the whispers and laughter coming from my men behind me.
“Sweetheart,” Dozer interrupts, “don’t you think you should slow down? Your shift starts in five hours, you will need time to sober up a bit.”
“She is fine Dozer. She isn’t working at the Devil’s anymore. She is our new club bartender,” I inform, gauging her expression waiting for a response.
“Fuck no, you can’t do that shit Blade. I am not working here, the strip joint is just fine,” she snarls out at me as she crosses her arms with an annoyed as fuck expression. She is in for one hell of a fucking reality check.
“I’ll tell you what, you beat me two out of three, you can work at the club. But after the little stunt you pulled last night, you will go nowhere near a fucking pole. If I beat you, you bartend here.” I wage, leaning in and almost kissing her as I softly whisper, “do we have a deal, sweetheart?”
Looking towards Dozer and my other men, Ginger looks deep in thought trying to make a decision, looking up at me with her dark brown eyes she glares, “deal.”
I chuckle to myself because she actually thinks she has a fucking chance at beating me. No matter what, I always win.
GINGER
Taking a deep breath, I swallow down the bile that is attempting to make its way to the surface. I can hear all the men talking, and I am feeling the pressure under Blade’s intimidating gaze. Do I really want to work at the strip joint that bad? No, I feel safer under this roof, but I hate the fact that Blade barks orders out at me like I am his damn property.
Taking Blade’s heavy knife in my hand, I grab the cool steel between my thumb and pointer finger, I take aim and breathe out a long breath as I throw the knife as hard as I can towards the dart board across the bar. Hearing the cheers of the men, I finally pull myself together and look at the bullseye that I just threw. Taking the other two knives off the bar, I repeat this action and make all three bullseyes.
Satisfied with the first round of this competition, I shoot back another shot of whiskey to ease the anxiety that keeps building. I turn to Blade and give him a genuine smile. I am letting loose and probably having the most fun I’ve had in years.
Blade is quick to bark out orders to Marcus to go retrieve the knives from the board. Holding all three knives in his left hand, he takes one and flings it towards the board with ease. Making quick work of all three knives, he manages to make three bullseyes as well. Shit.
Marcus is fast to run across the bar to retrieve the knives again. I bite my lip and smile to myself; I can’t help but compare him to a well-trained puppy. I feel like I should be handing him a treat and patting his head in appreciation. When he makes his way over to hand the knives to me, I thank him and hold them while I gather my wits about me once again. This is nerve wracking; having the entire club watch you go up against the boss.
Steadying my hand, I hold the steel between my fingers taking aim, before I am able to throw the knife, Blade throws three small bar knives at once making all three in the red. What the fuck just happened? Did Riley seriously lay out the knives he was using to cut lemons and limes to stock the bar? I stand there completely confused. I can hear whooping and hollering as they are fisting the air and congratulating Blade on his win.
“Sorry sweetheart, I win.” Blade leans over me, “I’m not known to play fair.”
I turn away from Blade not willing to give him the satisfaction of his bullshit win. I take a seat on the bar stool and slap the bar signaling Riley to pour me another drink.
“Hit me again, handsome,” I flirt with Riley. He really is a good-looking kid, but too much of a pretty boy for my taste.
“You’re playing with fire Ginny,” he speaks not willing to make eye contact with me. What in the flying fuck? No one is allowed to call me Ginny. That just set a fire under my ass. I grab the shot that he just set down in front of me and toss it back, throwing the empty glass at the back of the bar, breaking the mirrored wall behind all of the bottles.
Ignoring the chaos that breaks out when the glass shatters, I reach up and grab Riley’s shirt. “Don’t you ever call me Ginny. I will not hesitate to cut off your fucking balls,” I scream out. Normally whiskey is my go-to, it makes me a happy drunk but between Blade’s shit and being called Ginny, I was in fight or flight mode and there was no way I was backing down from these men.
Feeling big strong hands grabbing me by the waist, I am being ripped off Riley.
“What the hell Ginger?” Blade barks at me as he nonchalantly throws me over his shoulder, making his way up the stairs and into his room.
Putting me on my feet, he asks, “are you ok? What the shit was that about?” I don’t give him a reply as I slip out of my shoes and crawl into his bed and lay down. It doesn’t take long for my heavy breathing to level out, and I am starting to feel my eyelids feel heavy.
“Please leave me alone,” I beg as I try to turn away from the man who is running his large fingers up and down my thigh. It is my seventeenth birthday, it should be a time of celebration, but instead it is turning out to be the worst day of my life.
Ross Huntington is a powerful man, and he gets whatever he wants whenever he wants it; being the governor of Texas has its perks apparently. It doesn’t matter that my mother is right downstairs, she is probably too drunk to even notice her husband is in my room making inappropriate gestures towards her daughter. After daddy’s death, mom married the first man who gave her the time of day. I hated having Ross as my step-father, he has always given me a weird vibe, but I always ignored it assuming he didn’t know how to handle kids, as he had none of his own; until now.
I don’t know why all of a sudden, he thinks it is ok to come into my room after I have gotten out of the shower, but here we are. I am trying to hide myself as much as I can from him, but he is getting more aggressive the more I shy away from him. “Please get out of my room,” I yell out, “I need to get ready to meet my friends—”
“You’re not going anywhere tonight you little bitch.” He yanks my towel off of me. Jolting to the sudden chill that I am exposed too, my hands fly to cover my breasts and my sex. “You will not hide yourself from me.” He grabs my arms as I try my hardest to fight against him.
“MOM! Help!” I try to scream at the top of my lungs, but before I can get the rest of my scream out, Ross slaps his hand over my mouth and picks me up and slams me down on my bed with his overpowering strength. He holds all his weight against me, immobilizing me. With his right hand, I can feel him moving and I hear the buckle of his belt coming undone. It takes him a minute to wiggle his slacks and boxers down. I feel his bare skin against mine and it makes me stomach turn and can I feel the burning stomach bile making its way up my throat.
Holding me down and forcing himself between my legs, he thrusts his penis into my sex with such force I try to scream but he holds his hand against my mouth even tighter, making it almost impossible to fill my lungs with the air I desperately needed to breathe.
“My sweet Ginny, you are tighter than I imagined. I cannot tell you how many times I have dreamed of the day you would finally give yourself to me…” he purrs out. I have tears streaming down my face as he continues his assault. He is thrusting in and out of me so fast and hard that I feel like I am being ripped in two and am praying to God that I just die. I am starting to feel numb as he keeps going.
I don’t know how long it has been but it feels like a lifetime. With a grunt, Ross spills himself into me as his thrusts start to slow. I can feel his warm liquid starting to seep out of me. As he continues to fill me with every last drop, he lays his forehead on mine as he says “I can’t tell you how good it finally feels to make you mine Ginny, I love you sweetheart.”
I jolt awake as my subconscious assaults my memory of the past, sweating profusely. I sit up and take in my surroundings. I am in Blade’s bed alone; the bathroom
light is on and it appears to be dark outside. I try to calm myself down from the nightmare, it has been months since I have dreamt about that dreadful night, but with Ross finding me and breaking into my apartment, I am more scared than I want to admit.
Breaking me out of my thoughts, I see Blade come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah. What time is it?” I ask.
Pulling his phone from the nightstand, he responds, “its ten, you’ve been out for a while.”
Without saying another word to Blade, I pull the blanket back and free myself of the sauna I had been sleeping in. Getting up, I look down at the bed and see that the area I slept was damp. “Fuck. Where are your sheets? I will change them,” I yawn. Not giving me an answer, Blade just looks at me with a stare that would take most people to their knees. Trying to ignore him, I walk towards the bathroom peeling off my clothes. I need a cold fucking shower to rid myself of the sweat and the dirty feeling of being violated.
Turning on the shower, I open the door and step in. I am in the middle of adjusting the temp to cool the water down, when Blade reappears and steps into the shower as well. He grabs me by the waist and brings me towards him, smashing my chest to his. With this action I can’t stop the emotions that flow through me. I start sobbing into his muscular chest; he doesn’t say a word; he lets me cry as we stand under the cool water.
I don’t know how long we stand there for, but once my sobbing starts to subside, he loosens his grip on me and reaches over and presses the power button, turning off the shower. Opening the door, he grabs a towel and reaches around me, wrapping me in the soft material before doing the same for himself. Picking me up he carries me to his room and sets me on the stripped-down bed. For such a rough and tough man, he sure is being gentle with me right now and it is pissing me off; I don’t need his pity.
CHAPTER NINE
BLADE
After Ginger’s assault on Riley for calling her Ginny, I know what happened at her apartment must be getting to her. Once I was able to peel her off of the prospect, I brought her to my room to demand answers on who Ross Huntington was and what kind of shit storm this will bring to her and my club, but she walked over to the bed, laid down, and passed the fuck out. The whiskey must have gotten the best of her.
Sitting in one of the chairs, I decide I want to do some more of my own digging to see what I can find. Messaging Leo, I ask for an update about who this Ross guy is.
Blade 4:08 p.m.: What do you have on Huntington?
Leo 4:10 p.m.: Boss, I think you should come to the chamber and see for yourself.
Fuck, it must be bad if he wants me to go see for myself versus just fucking telling me the details.
Standing up, I walk over to my bed to check on Ginger, I feel an overbearing sense of protectiveness towards this small wildcat. As I stand there gazing at her sleeping form, she rolls over and sighs. For the first time, I notice she has a tattoo on the back of her neck just below her hair line; it displays R.I.P 6.29.2013. That is an odd tattoo.
Making my way out of my room and downstairs, I walk through the bar and out the front door. I head towards the back of the building and take the outside stairwell down to the chamber. I pull out my keys and unlock the heavy steel door.
Only a select few of us have keys to the chamber because it is where some of our most incriminating evidence is concealed. We named the basement after Dante’s Nine Circles of Hell, as it just happens that there are nine rooms down there; each specifically meant for different jobs. Each person that has been brought down to the chamber is judged by their actions and the severity of those actions, determining which room they have the opportunity to experience.
We gauge our offender’s punishments by the levels of Daunte’s Inferno, ranging from Limbo, the least offensive, to Treachery being the most punishing. My favorite room is the one that represents anger, I get to punish and do my most dirty work there. Briefly revisiting this morning’s meeting, I can’t wait for Draven to be shackled and awaiting my wrath.
Locking the door behind me, I make my way to Leo’s layer. He is the best hacker I have come across so we have given him his own room where he keeps all his computers, servers, abundance of monitors and external hard-drives.
“What did you find?” I take a seat next to Leo, looking up at his many computer screens as he starts pulling up different articles.
Reading some of the headlines, I find that Ross Huntington is the former governor of Texas. There are articles about how his stepdaughter went missing after her car turned up in New Mexico. Leo pulls up news videos of Huntington pleading for his stepdaughter’s return and if anyone has any information to contact his office or the police. At one point he was even offering a reward; a half million to whom ever found her and returned her home.
“What is his stepdaughter’s name?” I ask Leo.
“Boss, her name is Ginger Rose Huntington.” My eyes widen when I make the connection that Ginger is Ross’s stepdaughter. Is she a runaway? Did she get kidnapped? I have so much shit I need to piece together. I can feel my rage starting to build. I need fucking answers.
Leo pulls up articles that create a picture of Ginger as a rowdy party girl in school. According to the articles Ginger was in and out of jail as a teenager and it flawed the governor’s image so he did little to help her. Some question if she is alive or dead, other theories swinging around are that she ran off with a teenage boyfriend to Mexico.
Ginger seems like a well-guarded person, after today I can see that she liked to indulge a bit but some of these articles are extreme with what they paint her out to be. Could they be true?
“Boss, do we really want her working for us, if the whole state of Texas is looking for her? We don’t need that kind of heat.” His comment sparks irritation, causing my heart rate to speed up and my nostrils to flare. He may be one of my officers but he is crossing a line and speaking out of turn.
“She stays. She works here. She doesn’t leave without an escort.” I make sure to get my point across. “Her apartment was trashed last night. She will be staying here under our protection.” After I stare Leo in the eyes and give him my orders, he finally nods his head in confirmation.
I make my way back up to the bar. Sitting at the bar I order a beer. Rolling it between my hands, my mind is swirling back to Ginger and the articles that I just read. I need answers. Pulling me from my daze, Shay is trying to take a seat on my lap. With a nudge I usher her away from my knee.
“Shay, I am getting tired of this shit. If you don’t keep yourself in check, I will send you to another charter.” I huff out in irritation, I have too much shit on my plate.
“Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you Blade? We’ve been actively fucking for months! Now you just shut me out! For what? Some dumb charity case?”
Standing, I tower over her. “That is what being a club whore is, I fuck you for a while and when I get bored, I pass you to someone else,” I laugh. “For a matter of fucking fact, I am the president of this club. I do not have to explain myself to anyone, let alone some dumb fucking whore who can’t take a fucking hint.” By now, our little spitting match has caught the attention of many of the members and the other whores.
“Shay, baby. Mel and I would love to have some fun. You in?” Riggs asks breaking the tension that filled the bar.
“Yeah, I would love that. I have needs that someone else isn’t willing to fulfill.” She snaps as she looks over at me and flings her hair to the side. Such a dramatic cunt.
I feel relief as Shay follows Riggs and Mel to his room. Thank fuck. I normally wouldn’t pass up willing and easy pussy, but the shit with the Aryans and Ginger has got my mind in a fucking knot. Plus, Shay’s desperation is a fucking turn off. She obviously thinks that because I was fucking her for a few months that we are exclusive. When will these whores understand that they are only here for us to sink our dicks into? I provide them with food, clothing, and a roof over their heads withou
t a fucking demand other than to please my men.
I need my men’s heads on right going into sticky situation. It’s easier to have women here to satisfy their needs rather than getting themselves or all of us killed in a situation because they are sexually frustrated or some other shit. I make sure my men are taken care of in every way possible.
I spend a few hours at the bar, shooting the shit with a couple of the guys and enjoying a few beers, then find myself heading back up to my room to shit and shower. I walk into the dark room to find Ginger in the same position as when I left. Leaving her to rest, I head to the bathroom to do my business.
Coming out of the bathroom after my shower, I find Ginger sitting up in bed looking like she had seen a ghost. She was pale and had sweat dripping down her beautiful face. After giving her the time when she asked, she jumped out of bed and started to curse as she looked down at the bed. She sweat through her clothes and the sheets. I can recognize that from a mile away. She had a nightmare; it is all too familiar. I used to have nightmares after the shit that went down with my parents as a child. Before I could give her a reply to where clean sheets were, she bolted to the bathroom.
After I stripped the bed of the blankets and sheets, I made my way into the bathroom to find her standing in the shower in a complete and utter daze; she was not moving or even blinking. Ignoring all the warnings my brain is telling me about getting close to this chick, I step in the cold as shit shower and pull her to me. It doesn’t take her more than two seconds of being in my arms before her knees start to shake and she breaks into pain filled sobs. I know she needs this, so I hold her until her sobs and tears are at bay. Without saying anything I turn the water off and wrap the both of us in towels and carry her to my bed. Setting her down, I kneel on the floor and look up at her puffy face.
