by K. S. Adkins
I was swinging on the lira, enjoying myself, when two men dragging a very unconscious woman caught my eye. The second I untangle myself from my current position, Macy does the same, sensing my mood. Knowing the boys were outside, I yelled at Macy to follow me, asking Micha to watch our stuff. Macy has marathon long legs, only she doesn’t run, so I had to trust she would catch up. When she did, I told her to find Rogan, and to be very fucking quiet about it.
I’ve seen some shit out here, but abducting a woman in broad daylight? Are you fucking kidding me? Had I been using the silk for that cocoon move I’m trying to perfect, the woman would be long gone, with me none the wiser. This pisses me off; the boldness of these assholes has my fuck-shit-up meter in the red zone.
I needed to wait until the men were focused on getting the woman into the van before I struck. I had to play this smart seeing as I’m unarmed so I decided to do it quickly. I took thug one out with a quick blow to the head, and he went down easy. Thug two, now having all of the woman’s weight, fell forward, and my right foot connected with his jaw. He was down, but not out, and he was also really pissed. He let her go and came at me, and his eyes let me know he was high as a motherfucker.
I let him rush me, and my luck paid off when he took me to the ground. Both knees took turns meeting his balls, and then he finally let go of me to hold himself. He got me pretty good a few times, but I wasn't impaired. Holding his nuts, there wasn’t much to stop me when I took my right fist and connected it to the side of his head. Playing it safe, I also picked his head up, holding him by the hair and bashed his head into the pavement, twice. Okay, now he’s out.
Coughing, I forced myself to stand, only to see a stunned Rafe followed by a furious Rogan. The woman needs help first, so I sit her up and immediately see she’s been heavily drugged. I start tapping her face to wake her up. Nothing. I open her eyes, and see that they are fully dilated. I lean in to listen to her heart, and everything in me freezes. The boys are standing over me, wanting answers. Rafe fishes out his phone.
“Don’t make that call,” I wheeze out.
“Why the fuck not?” he says, incredulously.
“Macy!” I yell. “Get over here! Rogan, check around here for a needle. Rafe, you check the van.”
Both have no luck in their search. Meanwhile, Macy and I check over the girl, NOT a woman, who was given far too much of a dose for her small body. We look at each other with horror.
“It can’t be,” she says.
“Then give me another option, Macy,” I say. “I know this girl. She comes in every Friday, like clockwork.”
“It just can’t,” she counters. “No one else knows except you, me, and the lab. But even the lab doesn’t know exactly what it is. I haven’t told anyone.”
“I count my doses, Mace,” I say. “I also clean up after myself.”
“Shit. There was this guy who came in while I was working a few weeks ago, asking all sorts of questions that I didn’t answer, because I knew he didn’t belong there. I’ve been so fucked up I forgot all about it,” she exclaims.
“We’ll talk about this more later,” I say. “We need to get her to a hospital.”
“This isn’t good,” she says.
I look up at Rogan, who knows exactly what I’m thinking, how this coincides with the missing girls, because I know somehow it does. To my count, I’ve got Rhonda, Peaches, Baby, and now this club girl. I can’t tell her that, though. She would flip the fuck out.
“I want you to call in for the next few days, yeah? Switch up your routine. Give me some time to figure things out,” I demand.
“Dammit,” she says. “Fine.”
Rafe confirms the ambulance is on its way and that we need to go before the uniforms show up.
“Macy, I will fix this,” I promise her. In my mind, I promise to protect her, too.
“You can’t fix everything Venessa,” she says quietly. “I should have been smarter about this.”
“Fuck that! You’re the smartest person I know.” I whisper to her “This is my fault, let me take care of it.”
When she stays silent I motion Rafe over, giving him the nod to step in and take Macy.
“Rafe, you’re going to take Macy home, and make sure it’s clear,” I say, and he nods back again. Macy looks miserable, and I can’t say that I blame her.
“Come on, Macy let’s go get our stuff and get you home.”
“What the fuck is going on right now?” Rafe demands.
I can’t blame him for being pissed. I’m not sure if he’s put two and two together yet, but I am going to have a nice long talk with her when we get home. That’s if I don’t spank her first. Sometimes, I have to wonder if she’s that fearless or, just flat out insane?
“We’ll talk later,” I say. “But, first and foremost, you don’t take your eyes off Macy. Where she goes, you go, but this is business, so stay the fuck out of her sight. If someone is after her, you can’t be seen,” I emphasize.
“Let me get this straight. Macy makes the drug your crazy girlfriend's been using on the perps, someone found out, got their dirty hands on some, and has been using it to steal women. How am I doing so far?”
“Call her crazy again, and I’ll knock your teeth into the back of your fucking throat,” I growl. “I don’t know if this is coincidence or not, but you’re gonna shadow her until we figure this out. And you don’t tell her shit, you feel me?”
“Like she doesn’t already fucking know?”
“Obviously, she knows what happened here today, but Venessa doesn’t tell her the bad shit, and neither will you,” I demand. “If you do, I’ll find someone else.”
“She’s rubbing off on you, partner,” he says. “You gonna run this by the Captain?”
“I’ll handle the Captain.” I sigh. “You just handle Macy.”
“She got a new boyfriend or anything I need to be prepared for?”
“The only guy I know she hangs with is her partner at work. Don’t know his name.”
“Well this just gets better and better.”
“Listen, you wanted answers from Venessa as much as I did,” I say. “You in this, or what?”
“Fuck yeah, I am,” he says. “That girl of yours is going to get herself killed, hope you’re ready for that. I got the friend, you take care of captain insano.”
“I intend to,” I say. “I’m also gonna assume you meant that as a compliment.”
“She scares the shit outta me. You love her?”
“She scares the shit outta me, too.” I laugh softly. “Ain’t no name for what this is.”
At that, the ambulance stabilizes the girl, Macy hugs Venessa, then leaves with Rafe. As for me, I’m going to have a coming to Jesus talk with my girl.
Rogan is pacing, which I’ve come to realize is his ‘tell’. He’s pissed. No doubt, my Lone Ranger trick today pissed him off, but he was outside, on the opposite side, so I should have waited? I had Macy find him, didn’t I? I’m also on the fence about Rafe. Especially how he looks at Macy. The fact that those two are partners makes no sense to me.
Mind fuck aside, the bigger issue isn’t those two and their weird relationship, it’s the link with these girls. Rhonda is still a mystery, Peaches and Baby ditching me, some drugged out teenager, and Macy’s ‘special sauce’ being used on these girls. I don’t believe much in coincidence, and I also need some time to put it all together. There’s a big piece missing and I intend to find out what it is.
Today was out in the fucking open, in a populated area. It just doesn’t make sense. I should probably hit Miguel up. He’s been straight at the club so far, but I know he’s still in the trenches. Maybe Max, too. Not Tony, if I can help it. The club is where I need to be. I’m too distracted – sex is getting in the way. Shit, Rogan’s getting in the way, and it pisses me off that I feel like I can’t have him, the sex, and my justice.
“Do you know why having a partner is important?” he asks and, yep, I was right.
“To watc
h your back, yeah?”
“To watch your back, to strategize, and support you,” he says. Before I can say anything, he continues. “A partner is someone you trust with your life, and they trust you with theirs. A partner is the one you wait for when shit goes down. A partner is the one person on this whole god damned planet that you fucking care if something happens to them. You would fucking kill for them.”
“I---“ I begin, before I’m cut off.
“You don’t know the meaning of the word partner, because you’ve never had one. Now you do. You will learn what partners do, or you will get yourself killed. That don’t work for me.”
“But Macy—“ I try again
“Is not your fucking partner!” he screams at me. “I am! I ain’t gonna watch you kill yourself because you’re fucking blinded by revenge! Get your head out of your ass and be my partner, Venessa! I was right fucking outside! You could have yelled, or fucking waited! You are one woman. One tiny woman, who wouldn’t stand a fucking chance if a male ever got a real hold of you! You’ve had luck on your side so far, that’s it! Luck and surprise, but it won’t last. You want to make a difference? Then you work with your partner! You work with me!”
“I’m not—”
“Shut your fucking mouth, and listen,” he cuts me off again, and now I’m getting angry. Clenching my fists and focusing on my breathing, it’s all I can do not to smash his face in. “You are my partner in all things. I hope you fucking get that. If something happened to you and I wasn’t there…how would you feel if something happened to me because you weren’t there, being my partner?”
“I wasn’t trying to—“ Fuck, this is frustrating.
“You aren’t alone anymore. You have a partner now,” he says, stalking towards me. “You own me, or don’t you get that yet?”
With that, all the fight leaves me. I look him in the eyes and I get it. He’s upset because he cares. Doesn’t he see that I’m trying? That I care, too? I’d end it all if he wasn’t sharing air with me. Taking the final step to him, I wrap myself around him and make the only concession I can.
“You own me, too,” I say, not breaking my stare. “I’ll try harder. For you, for us.”
“Fuck.” He sighs rubbing the side of my face. “When I watch you work…fuck, I mean when I saw him hit you…you can’t take risks like that anymore, Angel.”
“Rogan,” I begin. “I said I’ll try harder, and I will, but you have to at least try to understand that to me that wasn’t a risk. It’s just what I do.”
“Angel, no,” he snaps. “You can’t keep this up.”
I take a step back, then another, followed by another.
“I can keep this up,” I say. “I was living for this long before I started living for you, fuck this is happening too fast!” Panicking, I head for the door, because I have to get the fuck out of here.
“Stop,” he says, blocking my escape. “Look at me.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I live for you too,” he says gently, and I can’t do anything else except stand there and wonder why he bothers making the effort. “You make me question everything now. I’ve never given a fuck about anyone until you. Let me live for you, too, Venessa. But I need you here with me, safe.”
“I’m not a cop,” I remind him. “I may come from one. I may know a few. I may be attempting to sleep with one. But I am not a cop. I don’t live by the same code you do, and I probably never will. You accept that, I’ll accept being your partner.”
“That’s what you think this is?” He laughs, but it’s not with humor. “You think this is about sleeping together? We’re the same god damned person! We both walk that line, every fucking day! I’m not fucking playing at ‘sleeping with you.’ I’m the only guy you’ve ever let fucking touch you,” he snarls, grabbing me and wrapping his hands around my waist. “I’m the only guy you’ve let kiss you,” he grazes my neck and bites down on my shoulder. “I’m the only guy you share your nightmares with,” he says, pulling my head back to meet his bright eyes. “I’m sure as shit the only fucking guy who’s ever been, or will ever be, inside you,” he growls and takes my mouth. I crawl up his body and wrap my legs and arms around him to give myself over to him. I want to be his partner, in all things. More than anything I want to be good enough for him “I’m the guy that was fucking made for you.”
“Show me,” I say, grabbing his beard with both hands.
“I’ll fucking show you,” he says, attacking my mouth and neck. He carries me to my bedroom, our bedroom, holding me up with only his hands under my ass. When he lays me down and looks at me, I realize we’re beyond words again.
He strips off my workout clothes and shoes, and in return I damn near Hulk Hogan his shirt off and use my feet to push his jeans down. The shoes, he handles himself. When he hovers over me trying to spare me his weight, I make a decision to have him in all ways starting right now. His weight on me is the least of my worries. Not having him is. I pull him onto me and, though he hesitates, he must see that I’m with him on this. When I do finally have his full weight on me, I have the urge to run, but the bigger urge is to wrap myself around him and hold on forever. We’re still clumsy, and that’s okay, our hands go everywhere and nowhere. We bump teeth, and I probably grab his beard too hard, but he never complains. His hand makes it between my legs, and I don’t know or care if it’s the right way, it’s our way. Just his touch alone makes me wet instantly. I reach for his big cock, causing him to shudder. I like that. What I like the most is the way we watch each other. I can’t imagine being with him any other way.
“Do you want the lights off?” he murmurs to me.
“No,” I decide. “Leave ‘em on.”
“I thought women liked the lights off?”
“I’d know this how?” I laugh.
“I like seeing you anyway. They stay on.”
We don’t really know what to do next; we gradually undress each other so we’re both naked. He crawls up the bed, and I open my legs to welcome him. I start to feel nervous, because as much as I want his weight on me I don’t want to believe I’ve come further than I really have. He’s on his knees, running his calloused hands up and down my legs, and it’s obvious we’re clueless, but we’re too far gone to stop. I want more, need more but I have no idea what to do, what to ask for and I’m pretty sure the panic is showing on my face.
“Keep talking,” he demands softly.
“I’ll keep talking if you keep looking at me. I’m starting to get—“
“Can’t take my eyes off you.”
“I need you to move up some, so I can touch your cock.”
“Fuck, Venessa, it’s yours,” he groans, crawling up my body. He doesn’t need to hand it to me, it knows the way. Like our bodies are two magnets. “Open wider,” he tells me.
“Again,” I say, and he looks confused. “My name, say it again.”
“Venessa, open those legs for me,” he says. “I want to touch you deep, Venessa.”
I start to shake, but not from fear. I open my legs as far as they can go, confident that I’m safe.
“Grab your cock for me,” I whisper and beg at the same time.
“Open yourself for me,” he retorts, and I’m mesmerized by his rhythm, so I begin my own. I take my hands from his body, put them between my own legs, and I spread myself for him. When Rogan moans, I start touching myself. I’m not shy or self-conscious, and I know that’s because of him.
Watching him work his cock, but holding onto me at the same time, grounds me. It must be grounding him, too. I didn’t know feeling like this was even possible. I’ve heard about it, read about it, and called bullshit on all of it. But it is possible, and it’s fucking life changing stuff.
I’m holding myself open with my left and rubbing myself with my right, and it’s impossible to keep still or quiet. We watch each other like that for a time, but I’m getting close and impatient. I have all the time in the world to touch myself when I’m alone, I’m not ab
out to waste a hard cock when it’s staring me in the face. I need his eyes on me, his mouth on mine, and that cock buried deep. I have no doubt it’s going to hurt, but accepting the hurt willingly is totally different than being forced. I’ve waited ten fucking years. I refuse to wait any longer. While most girls used their teen years to party and fuck around, I didn’t. I’m doing it now, on my own terms, with the only man that makes me unafraid.
“I need you now,” I say, panting.
“Don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’ll be a good hurt, I promise. It hurts more to wait.”
“I need you bad,” he says “We need a rubber?” We both freeze at the same time.
“Uh…”
“Fuck!” he yells.
“What are the chances you have one?”
“I never thought—“
Pulling him back to where I need him, I decide to tell him that I don’t want anything between us because it didn’t seem right.
“Fuck it,” I say. “I know we’re both clean, I have to feel you with nothing between us.”
“Don’t want to use ‘em either,” he growls. “Nothing comes between us. Nothing.”
“You should know I can’t have kids.”
“You want ‘em?”
“No,” I say. “I just felt that you should know.”
He puts his hands on me, effectively ending all conversation on my end.
“Never had shit that’s mine, got you now. Don’t need nothing else.”
My god, I have never heard anything so fucking beautiful before in my whole miserable life.
He runs his huge hands over my belly, focusing on my scars that are where a normal woman’s child would one day grow. I’m not sad about it; the fact is, you are supposed to love your kids more than you love yourself. I don’t love myself very much, so to love a child like that, then lose it, isn’t something I could ever deal with. Besides, after what was done to my insides that night, a child would not grow there, no matter how much I wanted it to. Good thing I don’t. Just because you’re given a womb doesn’t mean you have to fill it.
