Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)

by M. N. Forgy

  Dolly scoffs, crossing her arms. “You’ll be coming back to me. You watch.”

  I point at my head, conveying how fucked-up this chick is. “Unbelievable.”

  “Alright, Dolly, let’s go. I think you’ve caused enough of a scene today,” Mac interferes, wrapping his arm around Dolly’s waist before escorting her back down the hall.

  “What kind of candy are you sticking your dick in, brother? Seems all the bitches want a taste of it.” Bones chuckles.

  “You always did attract the crazy ones,” Aunt Carola adds, shaking her head.

  “She’ll find another mattress to warm, I’m sure,” I state.

  “I think that girl has a sex addiction and enough insecurities to fill the cavernous vagina she’s sportin’,” Aunt Carola spits, shaking her head. Felix nearly shoots orange juice out of his nose from laughing so hard.

  “What the hell, Ma?” Bones chuckles, pushing his plate of eggs forward with a disgusted face.

  “I don’t know where she comes up with this shit.” I shake my head with a raised brow.

  JILLIAN

  The day has been long, but thankfully uneventful. If I move just right, I can feel the ache between my thighs that was caused by Zeek. It’s both an amazing reminder and one that brings guilt. It’s bittersweet. When I’m with him, it’s as if nothing outside of the walls that confine us matters. He’s not the bad guy, and I’m not the good girl. We are just us, totally lost in one another. But as soon as I step outside of that safe box, reality hits me and guilt riddles my mind.

  Hitting up the old highway, I reverse back into my spot. I go here often when I hunt. Nobody can see my car surrounded by random shrubbery and rocks, making it easy for me to catch speeders.

  Turning the lights off, I sit back and sigh heavily. Man, it’s been a slow day. I look at the clock—one more hour before I’m off work. A motorcycle passes and hits its brakes. I quirk an eyebrow, curious why the motorist has stopped. Sitting up in my seat, the bike turns around illegally, heading right toward my cruiser.

  “Shit,” I whisper. The bike pulls off into my alcove, and that’s when I spot the insignia on the leather jacket—‘Sin City Outlaws, Zeek’.

  Whipping off his helmet then turning off the bike’s engine, he smirks. “So it’s you who sits in this little spot every time.”

  “You mean to tell me you know I’m here?”

  He laughs.

  “Sorry to break it to ya, but everyone knows that a sheriff car sits here at night.” I think Christmas was just ruined. I surely thought nobody knew I was sitting here.

  Setting his helmet on his bike, he drops the kickstand and climbs off.

  “What are you doing?” I murmur.

  Ignoring me, he strides to the other side of the car and gets in.

  “What are you doing?!” I nearly shout.

  “Sitting.” He starts playing with dials and buttons on the dash.

  “You know…” He shifts in his seat, looking into the back. “I’ve never been up front before.”

  I can’t contain my laughter. “How many times have you been arrested?”

  He twists his mouth like he’s trying to concentrate.

  “Shit, I don’t know. I lost count.”

  “Well, to answer your question, it’s been a slow night. Mid-week is usually like this.”

  He relaxes into his seat, his head dropped back onto the headrest.

  “If I was smart, Jillian, I wouldn’t be here. Actually, if I was smart, I would have never touched you.” His words sting, the truth in them feeling like a double-edged sword.

  “Why’s that?” I shrug, his words angering me.

  “Because I’m going to hurt you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He chuckles, like I just said the stupidest thing in the world.

  “You’re a smart girl, don’t be dumb.”

  My mouth pops open, words of fury ready to spill.

  “But then again, I’m street-smart and I’m still not strong enough to walk away. I can save you from a lot of things, Jillian, but I can’t save you from me.”

  I don’t know how to feel or respond to that.

  Silence fills the car. I wish I was strong enough to walk away, too. But I’m not.

  “Wow, it really is a slow night.”

  I nod in agreement. “Yeah, told ya.”

  “You want me to get on my bike and speed past, give you something to chase?”

  “Ha! When I catch you, then what? Take you into custody just so they can release you again?”

  He turns and starts fiddling with the frays on his torn jeans.

  “Nah, that won’t happen.” He looks up, a playful gleam in his eyes. “‘Cause you won’t catch me.”

  “Buh… huh…” I stammer. “I bet I can, I’m pretty good at driving.”

  He bursts into laughter, little dimples forming at the corners of his mouth.

  “A girl who carries a gun, can drive a car like she stole it, and fucks like a lioness…” he mutters to himself. “I should just hand my balls over now.”

  “Fucks like a lioness, huh?” My cheeks flush to the point I have to look away.

  “You’re so strong-willed, yet so vulnerable and innocent at the same time.” Taking my eyes off the road, I risk looking at him and find him staring at me with hungry eyes.

  “I’m not so innocent,” I insist. I mean, I did just sleep with the enemy.

  “Compared to where I come from, you’re a fucking angel, Jillian.”

  Leaning in, he tucks his hand behind my head, bringing my mouth to his. I resist for a brief second before giving in. His mouth is soft, warm. I caress his tongue with mine, tasting him while inhaling his ragged breaths. The way our mouths feel together, it’s an addiction that outweighs any guilt that tries to surface.

  He breaks the kiss and runs his lips along my jaw. My head tilts back, my eyes struggling to stay open with the lust glazing them to the point I can barely see straight.

  “5Paul69.”

  Zeek stills.

  “Shit,” I breathe heavily.

  “What is it?”

  “That’s me.” Zeek moves back so I can grab the radio.

  “5Paul69,” I respond, the words coming out strained and breathy.

  “We have an officer who is seeking backup. All other units are currently out of service.”

  Looking at Zeek, he’s pulling at his jeans, adjusting his apparent erection. I hate to leave him, but I have no choice. It’s probably better if we split up anyway; someone could see us here.

  “5Paul69. En route.”

  “5Paul69, copy.”

  “I gotta take that,” I inform Zeek.

  “69? You have 69 in your handle?” He laughs, sitting back in his seat. Using both hands, he brushes his hair back, the muscles in his biceps flexing.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Do you know what 69 is?”

  I furrow my brows. “Yes, I know what 69 is, and I didn’t get to pick my number... it was handed to me.”

  He squints, his lips rolling against one another like he’s trying not to say what he’s thinking.

  “Say it, what?” I laugh.

  “Have you ever 69’ed?” My breath catches in my throat.

  “Um, no. I haven’t,” I reply meekly.

  He nods, looking out the windshield. His jaw ticks, his face unreadable.

  “All right, I’ll see you later, Rookie.” He taps the dashboard and gets out.

  ***

  Glancing at the MDT, it looks like the police officer needing assistance is Alessandra, so I turn my lights on and fly toward her to make up for lost time.

  Driving onto the strip, I find a crowd circled around part of the sidewalk and road, lights flashing. That must be her. Pulling over I get out, hand on my weapon, and head toward her.

  “Sir, get out of the fountain!” Alessandra shouts.

  “Hey, what do you got?”

  She turns toward me, her face full of pure aggravati
on.

  “This.” She gestures toward a guy wearing a flamingo costume, a revealing one, sitting in the fountain of the Flamingo.

  “Why didn’t you get him out?”

  “I tried, but he got violent.”

  “Where is your partner?”

  “Fuck if I know. He went to the bathroom and apparently fell in!” She throws her hands all around like a mad woman.

  Looking over my shoulder, the crowd has their cell phones out recording.

  “Sir, you cannot be in there. This is your last warning to get out of the fountain!” I shout.

  “Leave him alone, he ain’t hurting anybody,” one of the citizens yells from the crowd.

  Pinching my brows, I know this isn’t going to end well. I hate when citizens get involved.

  “I’m about to pepper spray his ass,” Alessandra mutters under her breath.

  The man turns, flapping his… wings, and half of his ass and balls reveal themselves. Old, wrinkly balls.

  “Ooh,” “Eww,” and “I’m going to barf,” are all heard from the crowd.

  Oh, now everyone wants us to do our jobs.

  “Please don’t make me go in there.” Alessandra swallows, her face pale.

  “You go left, I’ll go right.” I laugh.

  Stepping into the water, my shoes are instantly soaked. The man notices us closing in on him and tries to run. I grab one arm as Alessandra grabs his other.

  “No, I need to be free. I am pink, and I am nimble. I am a FLAMINGO!” the man hollers.

  Oh good lord.

  We wrestle him out of the fountain, and he starts trying to pull from us. The face of a crazy person is quickly turning to fury.

  Alessandra loses her grip and the man takes a swing, hitting me square in the lip. Adrenaline spikes my mobility; the pain in my lip gone, I kick him behind his legs, dropping his ass to the ground. I dig my knee into his back, and Alessandra pulls her cuffs out.

  “I know my rights!” he yells. “You can’t do this!”

  “Stop resisting or I’ll taze you!” I warn. He stills at that.

  Finally getting him cuffed, we read him his rights as I bring him to his feet. “Pinkie doesn’t feel like walking anymore.” The guy pouts like a child and his legs give out. He drops to the ground unexpectedly and I go with him, my knees biting into the concrete.

  “Seriously?” I complain, getting back to my feet.

  “I’ll grab his feet, you get his arms,” Alessandra huffs.

  Struggling, dropping his head on the ground twice, we manage to get him in the back of her cruiser.

  “Sir, have you had anything to drink tonight or taken anything?” Alessandra asks before shutting the door.

  He smiles big, but doesn’t answer. Pulling my flashlight from my pocket, I shine it into his eyes. He squints, but his pupils are dilated.

  “He’s high on something,” I add. “We should check him for drugs.”

  “Oh, yeah, let me just look under his left wing.” Alessandra sneers. Taking her eyes from him to me, her attitude subsides and concern crosses her face.

  “Jillian, you’re bleeding.” She points to my face. Bringing my fingers to my mouth, there is a lot of blood.

  “Shit.”

  “We need medical assistance,” Alessandra calls in.

  “Hey! What happened?” Another police officer runs up to us.

  “What the fuck, man?” Alessandra shoves him in the chest, and he looks at me with wide eyes.

  I point to the back of the car. “We had to wrangle that out of the fountain.”

  “No more Chipotle for dinner, Harrison!” Alessandra points at him, her face serious.

  ***

  Sitting in the back of the ambulance, an EMT cleans my split lip.

  “I think you should probably get stitches,” the young lady suggests.

  “No, it would be pointless. They’d be pulled out in a day.”

  “If you insist, but at least let me put a butterfly on it.” I nod, and she climbs in the back of the ambulance. My eyes sweep across the way, landing on Sin Casino.

  There are a bunch of girls sitting outside, some smoking, the others just being loud and obnoxious. I wonder if the club is having one of their notorious parties. The girl from the other night catches my attention—Dolly. She’s wearing a revealing glitter dress, and her hair is down. She looks slutty, but a pretty slutty.

  I tense when Zeek walks around the corner, and Dolly takes up his side. Her hands are all over him. He grabs her by the hair, his other hand sliding down her side before he grabs at her ass. Turning, he pins her against the wall of the casino in front of everyone. My mouth fills with a bitter taste, and I realize I’m biting my cheek.

  The lady slaps the butterfly on my lip, but all I can see is red. Jealousy stains my thoughts. Stupidity fills my chest. I guess I thought Zeek being with me meant he wouldn’t mess around; that was very obviously very dumb of me. He’s a player, women are at his disposal… and I just became one. I should have set boundaries, made it clear it was me and only me. Now, I’m not sure I can kiss him and not see that skank on him.

  “Hey, you heading to the diner?” Alessandra asks, walking up to me. “You okay?” she questions, but I just stare at Dolly and Zeek.

  Dolly’s hands grab at his back, her leg wrapped around his waist, and I have to turn away, my chest filling with humiliation. Why did I think he wouldn’t return to his club hoes? Risking a glance, I look back.

  Zeek turns and wraps his arm around a girl with short blonde hair, and Dolly quickly catches up to claim his other side. He dips his head down, whispering something into the blonde woman’s ear, one of his hands cupping her ass.

  “What a whore,” Alessandra mutters.

  “The one with the black hair, she has it bad for him,” I state, my voice carrying an unfamiliar tone, one of anger, hurt, and lust. As angry as I am to see him with other women, it turns me on in a way. To know he’s that wanted, and he was with me not so long ago… it does something to me. I wonder if his skin smells of me when he’s with those floozies. I hope it does. I hope they smell me and it hurts them as much as I’m hurting right now.

  I risked so much being with him. I thought after sharing a common risk, he’d have a little more respect for me.

  “You know, we got two minutes left on our shift. We can arrest her,” Alessandra says.

  “Yeah, what for?” I step off the back of the ambulance.

  “For being a whore,” she scoffs, as if I’m clearly missing the picture.

  “Just leave it.” I swallow, my brain yelling, He warned you he’d hurt you!

  The crowd skims as the ambulance drives away, leaving me, Alessandra and Harrison standing at the curb.

  I can’t seem to avert my gaze from Zeek and his group. Dolly’s eyes catch mine, and she does a double-take. Stepping away from Zeek, she widens her stance and flips us off with both hands. She doesn’t seem to recognize me, though. She’s not very smart.

  “Oh, that’s classy,” Alessandra huffs.

  “I was so stupid.” My lip curls, my hands balling into fists.

  “Can we please arrest her now?”

  Pulling out my phone, I snap a picture of Zeek and his crew of hoes.

  “No, it’s not worth the paperwork.”

  NINE

  JILLIAN

  Looking at the butterfly strip on my lip, I scowl. I can’t believe I allowed that to happen. I feel distracted, off my game lately. Bringing my hand up to my lip, I pull on the strip then wince with pain. I didn’t think it was necessary to have it, but apparently I’m wrong, ‘cause blood is starting to seep from it.

  “Shit.”

  Wiping it up, I throw the cotton ball in the trash and turn the lights off. Climbing into bed, I call Jinx.

  “Men suck, buddy. You’re the only man I need.” He purrs and I bring him closer. Just as I close my eyes, the familiar sound of a motorcycle comes from outside. My eyes pop open, and I freeze. Moments later, a knock sounds at the doo
r and I clench my eyes shut, willing him to just go away.

  I can hear his boots shuffle on the porch. Maybe he’s leaving.

  A fist pounds on the door.

  “Jillian, open up.” Shit, he must have seen my cruiser in the garage.

  Seconds later, my phone chimes on the nightstand.

  Sitting up, I grab it.

  Ignoring the text he just sent, I send the picture of him and his ho posse.

  “I never said I was exclusive, Jillian!” he hollers. I don’t respond. What an asshole.

  My phone chimes.

  I don’t do relationships, I thought you knew that. You knew who you were getting into bed with Jillian, don’t be naive. - Z

  “Gah, I was so stupid,” I whisper to myself, my fingers digging into the cell phone.

  Go away. There’s no way we could work anyway. It’s best we end it now, before it gets out of hand. - J

  I toss it on the bed and stand, tugging on my hair at the roots.

  I can’t believe I was so stupid to think Zeek would only want me. Men like him, they don’t want just one woman. They get bored quickly with one; they need to feel wanted by all.

  A fist slams on the door, startling me. “Goddamn it, open the fucking door!” A dog across the way starts to bark from the commotion.

  He’s angry? Ha! What does he have to be angry about?!

  Pushing the curtains aside, I open the window and lean out. His eyes stick on my chest, my tank top riding up my midriff, before slowly raising to my face.

  “What happened to you?”

  Ignoring his question, I go in for the kill, releasing all the humiliation and hurt I feel.

  “I need a man who is satisfied with what I have to offer, not what every woman who walks past him has to offer.” He tries to talk, but I cut him off. “I am not one of those girls who is waiting for your attention, who feels like it’s my lucky day that Zevin fucking Deluca picked me to warm his bed.”

  “Just let me the fuck in so we can talk.” His tone is angry and harsh. He is always mad, or brooding. A piece of me used to like that about him, but now I find it arrogant.

  “You know, we have a saying where I work. The citizens are the sheep, the criminals are the wolves, and we law enforcement are the sheep dogs.” I shake my head. “I got too close to the wolf and got bit.”