by M. N. Forgy
I slam the window, ending the conversation. Turning, I climb into bed and curl in on myself.
“Open up!” He pounds on my front door, my heart seizing that he might burst through it any minute.
Everything stills for a minute before he slaps the door one last time, his boots thudding on the porch as he walks away.
***
Two days go by, and I hear nothing from Zeek. It hurts, but not like you think it hurts. The fact that I was so naive to think Zeek wouldn’t screw around haunts me. The fact that his smooth words and the way our bodies spoke to one another in bed made me forget who I was really dealing with.
I pull into my driveway at the end of a long shift and spot Zeek sitting on my front porch. I’m surprised.
Opening the garage door, I quickly pull in and click the button to close it, hoping it closes before he has a chance to get up and come inside.
No such luck.
My car door is ripped open, my arm gripped roughly.
“What the hell?”
He shoves me against the car, his face right in mine.
“I tried to be nice. I tried to do it your way.”
“Nice? You call dry-humping a bunch of girls right before coming to see me nice?” I laugh in his face.
“Don’t you get it? I fucking came here, Jillian. I didn’t sleep with those girls. This…” He pulls away, running his hands through his hair as if he’s annoyed. Dark strands slip through his fingers like silk. I love it when he does that.
“It’s fucked. Whatever we are doing is fucked. We’re stupid, and the way you make me feel is—” he shakes his head.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I spit out. Slamming the car door, I head inside. I try to close the door and lock it but he shoves it open, his face tight with irritation.
“You’re going to let me talk.”
“No, I’m not. I don’t need to hear your lies. I was stupid once, I won’t be again.”
I head into my room to change and he follows.
“Stop walking away from me.” He’s getting angrier. Good, I want him angry. I want to hurt him.
He growls, and before I can turn around to look at him, I’m lifted into the air and thrown on the bed.
“What do you want to hear? What will make you shut your mouth and open your pretty little ears?”
I sit upright, pushing him off me.
“Yes, I wanted to fuck those girls. I wanted to fuck them both at the same time, and then come over here and fuck you.”
Biting my lip, I slap him across the face. His head whips to the side, his eyes closed.
“Get the fuck out,” I breathe heavily.
Shoving him out of my way, I try to make my way off the bed but am stopped short, his hand gripping my upper arm.
He slams me back on the bed, grabs me by the ankle and pulls it to the bed post.
Reaching forward, he grabs the cuffs from my duty belt and hooks my ankle to the bed.
Disbelief floods my face. I pull at the cuffs, and they bite into my flesh.
Quickly, I open the pouch to my keys, but he grabs them before I can.
“Let me go, Zeek!”
“I tried to be nice, but you had to fucking push me.” He crawls on the bed, lowering me to the mattress, both of his fists on either side of me.
“You think you have everything figured out. That you and I being together is great and some fairytale with a happy ending. Well, wake the fuck up, princess. You and I are fucking stupid for even talking to each other, let alone screwing. Now you’re in my goddamn head, which makes it even worse.”
I don’t respond, just stare at the wall.
“None of this makes sense. It’s driving me mad trying to figure out why I am so attracted to you. Why you, out of all the women I’ve been with, have me by the balls.”
He grabs my chin, making me look at him.
“I like fucking women. That kind of control makes me feel…” He stops, his eyes digging deep into mine. “But when I was with you the other night, you unlocked something I didn’t think I was capable of, and it scared the shit out of me.”
“And what was that?” I breathe heavily, my nostrils flaring with every harsh breath.
“Feeling. I felt alive. I felt human.”
He pushes himself off the bed and rubs at the back of his neck.
“You walk away from me again, you’ll get worse than bit, Rookie,” he threatens before walking out of the room.
“Let me out of these cuffs, Zeek.”
He doesn’t respond. The front door shuts, and moments later, I hear a motorcycle driving by.
That asshole cuffed me to my own bed, with my own cuffs, and left me.
***
The front door to my house opens, waking me up. My bladder protests, and my stomach growls. Turning over on my stomach, I look at the alarm clock. I’ve been cuffed to this damn bed for ten hours.
The door shuts, startling me.
“Zeek?”
“Jillian?” It’s Alessandra. Oh, God, no. I fall back onto the bed, praying it opens up and eats me whole.
“Hey, you haven’t returned my texts all day, and you missed our gym session this morning. You okay?” Her eyes drift down my body, finding the cuffs.
“Um.” She points, her eyes going wide.
“Don’t ask.” I shake my head.
“Did Zeek?”
Sitting up, I narrow my eyes on her.
“I’m guessing you two didn’t kiss and make up.” She tilts her head to the side, a smirk on her face. Flexing my hands, I want to pull her hair out.
“Can you please just find some keys and get these damn things off!”
She turns and starts looking around the dresser.
“Did you tell him what you saw? Or I mean, what happened?” She darts into the living room.
“Yeah, and he was pissed.”
“Why was he pissed?”
“I don’t know, probably because I’m the only woman on the planet who isn’t happy with the little scraps he gives me,” I respond sarcastically.
“Found them.” She rushes back into the bedroom, holding up the keys. “He put them on the desk.”
“Just get these things off, I’ve got to pee so badly.”
She quickly deals with the cuffs, and as soon as my ankle is released I slide from the bed… immediately falling to my ass, because my foot is fast asleep.
“That asshole!” I scream in fury, my fists so tight my nails press into my palms.
“He sounds like a charmer.” Alessandra laughs, sitting on the bed.
“More like repellent.”
“Good thing I came by. After I didn’t hear from you, I got worried.”
Pulling myself off the floor, I hobble to the bathroom.
“It smells like a man in here,” Alessandra states, walking into the bathroom. Propping her hip against the door jamb, she looks at me. “Something spicy; cologne maybe.” Then her face goes serious, her eyes widening. “Oh, my God, did you sleep with him?”
I don’t answer her; instead, I wipe and flush.
“Oh, my God, you did!” I push past her and wash my hands. “Was he a Quick Dick? Is he big?”
My chest pangs with jealousy. I don’t want to share how big he is, even if I want to claw his eyes out right now. I hate that he does this to me. I hate him, and I want him. He makes me a crazy person. I need a room with padded walls, and shock therapy for the kind of things I feel for that man.
“I’m so not leaving until you give me something.” She blocks the doorway childishly. Stopping, I loll my head back and groan in irritation.
“I’m starting to rethink your BFF role right now.”
“Liar. Now, tell me, was he big?”
“I mean, yeah. It’s… you know,” I try to be evasive, but it’s not working.
“Oh, my. He’s hung, isn’t he?” She laughs, and I push past her. Heading into the living room, I fall onto the couch.
“How big was he? Are we talking banana size, or cucum
ber?” She sits down next to me, and I eye her awkwardly. Where does she come up with this shit? She’s relentless, not to mention frustrating.
She grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. “Give me something, woman!”
“Oh, my God! Yes, it’s big. I could barely walk the next day,” I finally give in to her, my nerves fully shot. She kicks her legs into the air in hysteria, and I can’t help but laugh at her reaction. You’d think she just got laid or something.
“A Cock-A-Saurus Rex.” She shakes her head. “You lucky bitch.”
“A what?”
“You know, as big as T-Rex, but it’s a cock!”
I can’t contain myself, bursting into a fitful of laughter.
“You had sex with him, so you must like him. Miss ‘I swear off men altogether.’”
I really hate her sometimes.
“Yes, and it was stupid of me. He’s like forbidden fruit, and it feels wrong being in the same room, let alone together like that.”
“Oh, it is bad, but it’s a good bad.”
“How?” I respond dramatically.
“It’s good because…” She pauses, her stalling not making me feel any better. “Because he’s hot, he’s obviously into you, and I know you. Clearly, you see something reputable that nobody else sees. If he’s what makes you happy then screw what anyone else thinks.”
“I don’t know how I feel. When he’s around, I forget to think, and my body reacts on its own. But after last night, I feel like I was just shoved underwater and am unable to breathe,” I ramble. “Before Zeek, I was okay not having butterflies. I was fine not having sex. Sure, it wasn’t ideal, but it didn’t hurt. Knowing Zeek was the bad guy and I was the good guy was something I could accept, but now… I’m a fucking mess. I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Whoa.” Looking up under my lashes, Alessandra is staring at me like I’ve lost it. Maybe I have.
“I just don’t see how we’ll ever work. I’m the pig cop and he’s the ruthless outlaw.”
“Hmm.” Alessandra makes that sound when she disagrees but doesn’t want to voice it. Or when she has nothing to say, which is rare.
“Besides, he likes to have dozens of gorgeous women on his arm, and I’m not okay with that. Not to mention he’s pig-headed, arrogant, and controlling,” I huff. Just thinking about him storming in here and handcuffing me to the bed makes me angrier by the second.
“So, what all did he say before he cuffed you to the bed?”
I flick my eyes to hers and frown.
“I don’t know. Something about the way he’s drawn to me scares him. That he used to like being with lots of women, but after me things don’t seem so simple. He said I made him feel alive.”
“Wow.” Her voice comes out in awe. Great, even she’s falling head over heels for him.
“Don’t you side with him!” I point at her. She holds her hands up in surrender.
“I mean, he’s not in a short supply of women, Jillian. It’s not as if you’re not replaceable. So him coming here, making you hear him out? That has to stand for something.”
“Maybe,” I mutter, looking down at my hands.
“You guys went into this without any boundaries. I’d say now that guidelines are forming, go for it. Oh!” She holds up her hand. “But make him work for it. Don’t forgive him right away. Nobody ever remembers those who give in easily, it’s those who make you work for it.”
“Right now, I want to kill him.”
“You at work tonight?” she asks, changing the subject effortlessly.
“Yup. You?”
“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “I gotta go. Details when we go on break if he shows up again?”
“Maybe.” I smirk.
“You better. It was me being threatened in the dark by him that started all this in the first place, remember? You can at least give me the dirty details.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle. I almost forgot he threatened her.
“Bye!” She laughs, heading out the door.
ZEEK
Sitting on the couch at the club, I glance around and watch everyone as they begin planning for the party.
I’m really not in the fucking mood for this shit.
Pulling out my phone, I look to see if Jillian has replied to any of the twenty texts I’ve sent, which she hasn’t. It started out as one text, but then I had more to say, so it went to two. Then I got angry when she didn’t reply and sent a shitty third text, which was followed up with a nicer one. Before I knew it, there were twenty fucking text messages. I’m not proud. In fact, I’m about to ask Siri where my balls are.
I’ve never felt like this before. That thought keeps circling in my head, and it’s driving me insane. I have been around dozens of girls, yet never felt the need for more than a fuck, pushing them out the door before they can correct me on their name. Candy, Sasha, Lizzy—they’re all the same. Only reason I remember Dolly is because she’s insane and won’t move on. But Jillian, she’s stuck. Maybe it’s because she’s not a girl, but a woman. Maybe it’s because she’s the only one with an IQ higher than her age. Either way, when I’m not around her all I can think about is her… and, of course, her body. But this shit with her not replying back to my texts? It has me twisted up worse than words can explain. I’m angry… and horny.
“Need a drink?” Machete asks.
Sitting up in my seat, I exhale slowly. I could drink. It would take a lot to get rid of this shit circling in my head, but it’s a start.
“You should take a drink, or get laid. Something, brother, ‘cause you’re angry on any normal day, but the last two days you’ve been fucking insane.” He glances over at the dartboard. I got pissed and ripped it and half the drywall down yesterday.
“I’m fine,” I grumble. I’m not, though. I’m far from fucking fine. One sheriff made me lose my mind. One woman brought me to my knees. One blonde-headed beauty has me changing every aspect that makes me me.
I tried to leave her alone after that first night, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I can’t. I warned her, told her not to give in and kiss me. I told her to tell me no, because I knew once I had her I wasn’t going to let her go.
Commotion at the entrance catches my attention. A couple of prospects, plus Bones and Cross, are talking in a circle. Fucking Cross. He’s wearing dress pants and a maroon button-down, his brown hair slicked back and shining. He’s shorter than any of my men, but has muscle.
“What the fuck is that about?” Pointing toward the guys, I lift a concerning brow.
“Not sure, brother.” Standing, I stomp over to them, and Cross stops talking immediately.
“Zevin, how good of you to get up and come over.” His tone is condescending, and he’s not even looking at me.
“What’s this about?”
“This?” Uncle Frank steps into the doorway. He’s a few inches shorter than me, his dark hair resting at his shoulders. He’s wearing an expensive black suit with a pink tie.
He rubs his clean-shaven face and bobs his head, his mouth twisted as he looks my men over.
“I was informed we have a pig out of place in our sheriff’s department.” His eyes finally meet mine, and my heart stomps with panic.
“What do you mean?” I swallow hard, trying to get my shit together.
“You were arrested?” His tone urges me to answer.
“Yeah, but it was handled.”
“Apparently, we need to remind them who they’re dealing with. We paid them, right?”
I sigh, running my hands down my chin.
“Jesus Christ, yes, they’ve been paid.” The Las Vegas Sheriff’s Department is dirty; we pay them to keep the fuck out of our business. When one arrests us, the deal is off and war is on.
“I was told otherwise.”
“Yeah, well, your ‘otherwise’ is bullshit.”
Machete, Felix, and Mac stand behind me. Three men I trust in this club with everything I am.
“So, what’s your plan then? What
are you getting at?” Felix questions.
“I rounded up a few men, and we’re going to handle this little bitch who seems to be out of place. Something tells me she’ll jump in our pocket rather quickly.”
Blood boiling, I stomp forward at his mention of Jillian.
“These are my men, in case you forgot. You have to run this shit by me first!”
“Easy, brother,” Felix whispers behind me, trying to keep me calm.
“I do?” Frank tilts his head to the side, squinting at me.
“Fuck that.” Cross slides his slimy tongue along his bottom teeth, his eyes dilated with the urge to maim me.
“Are you protecting this bitch?”
I think all the blood drains from my face with that one question.
Stepping back, I recoil in disbelief. “You come into my club, take my men without asking me, saying to ‘fuck with the rules,’ then turn around and suggest I’m protecting a fucking pig?” I turn my head, glaring. “You better choose your next fucking words carefully.” Pulling my gun from my waist, I load a bullet into the chamber, my blue balls and anger overriding my thinking. I can feel the veins in my face and neck protruding with pent-up energy.
“I see.” He lowers his head, his chest rising with a breath. “Well, I’m taking some of the lower ranks, and Bones. I was informed by a deputy that this girl is working tonight and where she’d be during her shift. The boys are already heading there as we speak.” Looking over his shoulder, I notice the prospects and Bones are gone.
My fists flex, my chest nearly exploding with the urge to burst through the door and race toward Jillian.
“Got it,” is all I can say, and I can barely push those words out.
Cross grins wickedly then turns and leaves.
“Dude, what the fuck—”
“Give me your keys.” I hold my hand out to Felix.
“What for?”
“Give. Me. Your. Fucking. Keys.” I grit each word, my stare bearing down on him. I could take my bike, but it’s getting an oil change by one of the prospects.
“Yeah, fine.” He pulls his keys out and drops them into my palm.
Pushing my way out of the club, Felix and Machete are hot on my tail.
“Why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?” Felix shouts.
“You ain’t going alone, brother!” Machete adds.
