by Franca Storm
Aside from Ralph, though, I’ve never even leaned on a man. I’ve gone it alone. But Neil is getting to me. I’m feeling things I never have. And as much as I want to deny it for the sake of self-preservation; it’s more than lust and sex. It’s way more intense than that. He’s under my skin in a big way.
As I start on my third beer, my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I pull it out, almost dropping it in the process. Shit, the beer is hitting me even harder than I thought. My coordination is clearly off.
There’s a text: Where you at, babe? Neil.
I’m in too much of a numbed haze to think twice about it and I text back: Rock Hotspot.
It’s a hard rock club in the bad part of Brockford. It doesn’t attract the best crowd, but I didn’t give a crap when I rode in here. I just wanted a drink and it was the closest place off the highway when I got back into the city.
I’m not worried anyway. I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m packing heat.
I almost drop my phone again as I put it back in my pocket and I laugh out loud to myself, musing that I hope I’ll be able to point my gun in my tipsy state if it came to it. Wow. Hilarious if I couldn’t, huh?
I chug the rest of my beer, giggling to myself uncontrollably. I’m enjoying this feeling; the ability to laugh. It’s rare. And so, I order another beer. As the bartender places it down in front of me, I snatch it up and turn a little on my stool, eyeing the couples on the dance floor over on the other side of the club. I’m up at the bar sitting in a dark quiet corner as usual. Normally, I want the peace. I’m not a big fan of people, because they usually mean trouble. But the way I’m feeling now, I kind of want to be out there in the crowd, getting lost in the music.
As I take another sip from my glass, I peer over the rim to see a guy approaching me. I blink hard to try to focus through my blurred vision. He’s a big guy. Not as big as Neil, but few people are. His brown eyes sparkle at me and he flashes me his best attempt at a seductive smile as he sidles up to me. He’s wearing tight black leather pants with a majorly studded belt and a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt that stretches tight across his ripped chest. Mmm. Not bad.
“You wanna dance, baby?” he asks, stopping in front of me and looking me up and down appreciatively. He runs his fingers through his long black hair as he waits patiently for my answer.
Why the hell not? “Sure.”
I hop down from my stool and stumble a little. He grins and grabs my hand to steady me.
“Little bit tipsy there, huh?”
I just shrug.
He laughs and I let him lead me over to the dance floor.
The previous song ends—some Aerosmith hit—and another starts up as we reach the floor. Lips of an Angel by Hinder. He slides his hands up and down my hips and moves us to the slow, seductive beat. I close my eyes and let the music wash over me and lead my body where it wants to move. I turn and the guy pulls me into him, my back pressed tightly against his chest. A faint warning bell sounds in my head as I feel his hands slide along my raised arms and down my body, over my shoulders, my boobs, before coming to rest on my ass.
“I love how you move, baby,” he whispers in my ear.
“Yeah?” I hear myself answer, barely aware of anything but the music now.
“Yeah. You’re making me hard. What’s say you take care of that for me?”
“I’ll take care of it by snapping your fucking dick off, asshole!” a dangerous voice growls from behind us suddenly.
The guy spins around and it takes me a moment and a couple of fumbling steps to do the same. That’s when I see Neil standing there.
“Baby!” I exclaim, excited to see him and completely oblivious to anything else.
His eyes dart to mine briefly and he seems surprised at something…at me? But then he turns his attention back to the guy I’d just been dancing with.
“You put your hands on my woman, motherfucker?” he thunders, stepping forward and getting in the guy’s face.
“It’s called dancing,” the guy fires back.
“Yeah?” Neil snarls. “What ‘bout you tryin’ to get your dick wet in a woman clearly drunk off her ass? What’s that called, asshole? Rape?”
“Look,” the guy says. “I was just—she has a smoking body. Thought I’d give it a go.”
Neil’s fist slams into his face, knocking him onto his ass just from one hit.
The crowd on the dance floor gasps in shock, all eyes on Neil.
Before I know it, his arms are suddenly around me and he’s throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me out of the club in a fireman lift.
He puts me down outside, holding me against the wall with his hands confining my arms.
And I’m giggling uncontrollably.
“Rox,” he says, shaking me.
“Oh my God! You knocked him on his ass!” I laugh, hysterically. “Literally!”
“How much did you drink, woman?”
“I never drink.”
“Yeah, I remember. Made an exception tonight though.”
I nod. “Three beers, I think.”
“Christ,” he mutters.
I gaze up at him. “You’re so hot when you’re mad.” I roll my hips and lick my lips at him. “Mmm…take me, Neil. Just like this. Pinning me like this. Fuck me hard and rough against this brick wall. You know I like it dirty, baby. Give me that monster cock of yours. I wanna feel it pumping inside me. Mmm. Give it to me, Neil.”
“Rox,” he hisses.
“Yeah?” I ask, looking up at him dazedly. “Yeah, baby?”
He blows out a breath. “Nothing.”
“Tell me!” I whine.
“No fucking point. You’re smashed,” he mutters under his breath.
“What? What, Neil?”
“Forget it,” he says. And then he gathers me into his arms. I squeal in surprise and I keep squealing until he suddenly plants me down on a hard surface, my legs straddling either side. I glance around quickly and see I’m on his bike. On the front.
“Stay,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“Cuz I fucking said so.”
I feel him at my back then. He slides on behind me, his thighs pushing tightly against mine, wrapping over my legs.
“Neil. I can’t move!”
“That’s the point. Ain’t having you riding on the back when you’re like this. Too risky.”
He leans over me, his rock hard chest pressing tightly into my back as he grips the handlebars. I’m wedged in between him and them.
He guns the engine.
“Wait!” I yell over the roar.
“What, babe?” he asks, turning his head towards me.
“Townsend Grove.”
“That place on the outskirts of the city?”
“Yeah. Take us there. It’s where I live.”
“I thought the other house—”
“Just a safe house.”
He grunts and mutters something under his breath and then the bike takes off harshly. Oops. He seems pissed.
I have no idea why.
***
Wow, her place is a fucking mansion. The lobby’s at least half the size of the clubhouse with a double staircase right there when you walk in. The house is on three stories and I can’t even imagine how many rooms there actually are. I noticed the massive garage when I pulled into the expensively-landscaped courtyard. At a quick glance, I’d say it could hold ‘bout ten cars. And a hell of a lot more bikes.
The ride knocked her out and I had to search her for the keys to this place. Once I got inside, I laid her down on one of the four wraparound leather couches in the living room. Two seating areas in one living room, along with a marble fireplace, priceless art and God knows what else. Jesus.
She’s loaded.
I’d figured she’d done well for herself when I’d seen that Hummer she’d driven to the tattoo shop. But this is more than I’d imagined.
She played me by bringing me to that other house of hers. It was just a safe house afte
r all. But I get it. She needed to protect herself. She didn’t know me when she brought me there.
But here I am now in her real home.
Another act of trust for her.
I finish making her a coffee in her state-of-the-art ultra-modern kitchen—all sleek chrome appliances and black marble counters and shit.
I walk into the living room and find her stirring on the couch and whimpering to herself. I place the mug down on the coffee table and sit down next to her. I reach out and stroke her silky brown hair.
I was close to losing my shit earlier when I walked into that hellhole and saw that fucker’s hands all over her. He’s lucky all he got was a single fist to the face. Piece of shit slimy prick. No one touches what’s mine and Rox is all mine!
What the hell was she thinking getting so wasted? What if I hadn’t shown up when I had? Shit, I can’t even go there. My hands are still shaking from the rage that’d ripped through me at the sight of another man touching her.
We’re gonna have words when she’s sobered up. No woman of mine lets another man lay his hands on her. Not in any goddamn way. She’s off limits. If she hadn’t been a giggling, drunken mess when I’d pulled her outta there, I woulda spanked her fucking ass right there outside that shit club for everyone to see. If she thinks she can pull this kinda shit with me, she’s in for a rude awakening.
Fuck that. I tell her she’s mine, I claim her…then she’s only mine. Her tight little pussy, her sweet ass, those perky tits…every inch of her hot little body…all mine.
She starts whimpering. It escalates quickly and, before I know it, she’s screaming and crying out in pain and squirming around on the couch.
I shake her gently. “Rox. Wake up, babe.”
She keeps crying out so I shake her a little harder.
I watch as her eyes open slowly. Filled with tears. Shit. “It’s okay. Just a nightmare, beautiful girl.”
She brings her hand to her face to hide her eyes from me. She’s shaking.
I take hold of her and pull her onto my lap, wrapping my arms across her chest and holding her close to me. “Talk to me,” I whisper in her ear.
“They’re all dead. All of them. There was so much blood, Neil. So much. So loud. They wouldn’t stop. They didn’t give them a chance.”
“I know, babe. I know.”
“It’s all my fault,” she cries. “Oh my God, it’s all my fault, Neil! I killed them!”
Christ, seeing her breaking like this is ripping right through me. “Babe, weren’t your fault. The whole thing was a setup. None of us saw it ‘til it was too late. Couldn’t have predicted that shit.”
“Ralph said they died because of me.”
“He didn’t mean it. He was just upset, hurting like you.”
She tries to pull away, but I hold fast. She gives up quickly, too drunk to actually fight me for once. “It’s all because I can’t handle it!”
“Handle what?”
“What he did to me…what Skinner did.”
I turn her in my arms and ask, “What did he do? What went down that day, Rox?” I know I’m kinda a dick for asking her when she’s drunk and dunno any better, but I need to know real bad. My mom died over what happened between Rox and my old man. I need to fucking understand what went down.
She stares at me, her eyes wide and filled with horror. “Neil, I can’t….”
I’m ‘bout to push it when she adds, “Not with you looking at me.”
“Fine.” I turn her back ‘round and just hold her against me again. “That better?”
“Yeah.”
“Good girl. Get it off your chest, yeah?” She shivers in my arms and I kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay.”
She nods finally and starts telling me what happened:
“Dealer’s little princess. Roxana Austin.”
“It’s James,” I told him.
“Right, took your mom’s name a few years back. Ain’t seen you since you were a baby,” Skinner commented as he led me into his office. “Have a seat, sweetheart.”
He closed the door behind me and I took a seat in one of the two high-backed chairs opposite his mahogany desk. I started as I heard the lock clang. I twisted in my seat. He must have read the unease in my expression, because he flashed me a reassuring smile and said, “For privacy.”
That made sense, I figured. Perhaps he had people coming through his home a lot, so he wanted to prevent any potential interruptions. I’d shown up at his personal home address after all and not his office at his compound. As a woman, I couldn’t get inside there anyway. Club rules—no women permitted, except whores at certain times of day.
Rather than taking a seat behind his desk, he perched on the edge.
“What can I do for you?” he asked as his eyes roamed over me. It wasn’t a simple once-over. It was a slow eye-fucking and it took everything I had not to react and shift in my seat. I didn’t want him to know he was succeeding in making me uncomfortable. That would’ve been showing weakness and I wasn’t about to do that.
“You and my dad were really close as I understand it.”
“We were.”
“And you did business together? Club business, right?”
He tensed at that, but answered, “Yeah.”
I decided to stop beating around the bush and get right down to it. “I need to know what happened to my parents. The cops said it was an accident, it looked like an accident from what I witnessed, but I recently managed to get access to all the evidence—finally, after all these years. I’ve gone over it several times since and it doesn’t add up. I think they were murdered.”
He shifted his weight and asked, “You told the cops this, sweetheart?”
“I will, yeah. I just wanted as much info as I could get on what my dad was involved in prior to his death. He kept everything very private. But you knew him really well. I figured if anyone would know, it would be you.”
He slid off the desk and smiled—a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He approached my chair and leaned into me, his hands gripping the arms, boxing me in. “Thing is, princess, involving the cops in this ain’t a good idea.”
“Why not? They were murdered.”
“Cops ain’t no friends to guys like me. We don’t mesh well. They complicate our business. You feel me?”
“I’m not stupid, Mr. Barron. I get that much. But I don’t give a crap. Whoever did this will pay.”
His eyes bore into mine intensely. “Let this go. Your father was a piece of shit. A killer. Whatever happened, you can bet your ass he had it coming anyway.”
“My mom didn’t!” I yelled, my eyes flashing with fire.
He released my chair and stood back up straight. “She married into the life. She knew he was Prez of Black Thorns when she got involved with him. She knew the risks. End of story.”
Rage was seeping through me then. I could barely keep it at bay. I shot out of my seat, my fists clenching. “How dare you?” I stepped into his space. “Was it you?”
“You accusing me of murder?”
“Should I be?”
His hand shot out so fast that I didn’t even see it until it wrapped around my neck. He slammed me against the wall, making me choke from the force of it. “You fucking bitch! You track me down, come here demanding answers, talk ‘bout going to the cops and then accuse me of murder!”
“Let…go,” I struggled to get out against his suffocating grip.
“Stupid little girl. I knew you were coming. Got eyes everywhere. I drew you here when I heard ‘bout you asking questions. I set this up. You won’t be leaving here, princess. End of the road for you. Should’ve stayed outta my business.”
All the training I’d had over the years since my parents’ murder kicked in and I thrust my knee into his groin. He roared in agony and loosened his grip. I used the opportunity to rip his arm off my neck and dodge past him. I lunged for the door, fumbling with the lock, my hands shaking with adrenaline and making it a difficult task.
I don’t know where the hell it came from, but he suddenly had a blade in his hand. He’d drawn it so damn fast. Instinctively, I reached for my glock. But he was faster and he slammed my right hand down onto the desk so hard that something cracked. I ground my teeth to stop myself from crying out.
I struggled against him as he ripped my jacket off my shoulders. He climbed onto the desk and pinned my legs with his knees, my hands with one of his own above my head. I struggled violently, but his full weight was bearing down on me.
He moved the knife towards my shoulder.
“I like to mark before I kill.”
I bucked against him wildly then, but it was no use. He drew the blade across my flesh, tearing so deep, ripping open my shoulder in a torturous, slow pace that just prolonged the agony. I couldn’t help it. I screamed at the top of my lungs. The pain was so severe.
He laughed and pulled back the blade.
“For you, though, princess, let’s make it a little more memorable. I wanna remember this one—Dealer’s daughter.”
I didn’t know what the hell he was getting at.
And then he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and popped the fly.
“No!” I bellowed. “Don’t! Don’t do this!”
“Mmm…yeah, I bet you’re a sweet one,” he snarled as he ripped open my pants and slid his hand inside, feeling me up with his rough fingers.
“Stop! No!” I screamed, trying desperately to twist away.
“Shut up!” he bellowed, raising his blade and slicing my shoulder deep.
I cursed and screamed, bellowing frantically at the top of my lungs.
And then a gunshot rang out. The door flew open and a woman I’d never seen before barged in anxiously. Her eyes were wide with shock as she took in the sight of me pinned beneath him crying, screaming, half-dressed and bloodied on the desk.
She cocked her shotgun and spat at him, “You sick, demented, piece of shit! Get off the girl now!”
