Brutal

by K. S. Adkins

“I’m no expert but a woman puts her mouth on a man’s cock, he likes it. You put your mouth on my cock, I get a taste of heaven.”

  What else is there to say? He liked it, and that’s all I care about. We showered slow, went to the kitchen and ate slow, too. After that? I was in no hurry to be anywhere else.

  I was on cloud fucking nine until I called the Captain. One phone call put a serious damper on shit. The number of missing girls is climbing, and these are the just the ones we know about. No telling how many unknowns are unaccounted for. Rafe has Macy covered, following her to Eastern Market while she shops. According to him, she shops a lot, and it’s making him hungry. Angel is in the shower, and as much as I don’t want the weekend to start, it has to. We need answers, and that club is where we’ll find them. Macy is due to come into the club tonight with a friend, so I’ll get a chance to touch base with Rafe, plus have an extra set of eyes and ears.

  My piece alerts me to an incoming call to her phone, so I act interested in the files in front of me while she answers from the kitchen. It’s Max, and he wants her to come in an hour early. He never makes a play for her, which keeps him breathing. Coming early doesn’t seem strange for staff, but she’s not staff, she’s the entertainment. I was barely listening until he said to leave me behind. Red fucking alert. She refuses, but Max stands firm that I cannot be in the room where the meeting will take place. She is pissed, so am I, but I’ll still hear what’s being said, whether I listen in or she tells me.

  She disconnects and comes stomping into the room. It’s amazing to see this side of her, too. My Angel has so many sides. In an effort not to smile at her, I pretend to be all business, while remembering that I belong to her. No one has ever liked me, let alone wanted me, more than anything else. That’s fucking major.

  “We have a problem,” she begins. “Max wants me to come in an hour early…without you.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Agreed,” she says. “I want you outside the door.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” she asks. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” I tell her. “We’re partners. I’ll cover you from the outside, and you’ll tell me what happened on the inside.”

  “Huh.”

  “Did you expect a different answer?” I smile.

  “Actually,” she smiles. “Yeah, I did.”

  “I’m very agreeable,” I say, my smile changing into a smirk.

  “You’re fucking hot when you’re agreeable,” she purrs, and I may have blushed, god dammit.

  “I trust you,” I say. “You trust me, right?”

  “Totally.”

  “Fuckin’ a,” I say, shoving my tongue down her throat. She trusts me. That’s right up there with wanting me.

  While she’s getting ready for work, I bring her a cup, setting it next to her. She smiles and points to her phone, letting me know she’s talking. My piece was alerting me, but I figured it was Macy and just recorded it. It wasn’t Macy, it was Miguel, and some other guy I don’t know. Telling her about the missing girls, that some girls from other cities were missing too. No families to look for them, or they're too poor to do it, trusting the cops to bring them home. She disconnects with Miguel, and then comes out to see me. We need answers, but I need her to bring this up to me first, before I blow my cover. I can’t even think straight when she comes strutting in with six inch leather boots, fishnets, a school girl skirt, and corset. Fuck me, but I’m officially a sucker for pig tails.

  “You ain’t wearing that out,” I ground out. “Go change.”

  “I am.” She smiles. “And if you’re really good, you can take it off later…with your teeth.”

  “Fuck. At least put a coat on.”

  “Miguel called,” she says. “Word has gotten back to him on the girls. Numbers are growing, and different cities now, too. It’s escalating. Macy is bringing a friend to the club tonight, but I need cover for her.”

  “I’ll have her covered.”

  “What does the Captain say?”

  “To do what it takes. So I will. Macy will be protected.”

  “By who?”

  “I have Rafe shadowing her.”

  “That’s solid, yeah?” she asks. “Okay, I’m cool with that. Make sure he isn’t seen, because she’ll fucking flip.”

  “Done. Now, let’s get you to work. After you put a coat on.” I smile.

  She rolls her eyes, but complies. Ain’t no way I want every motherfucker on the street seeing her skin or her wings. The club is dark, which takes my jealously down a notch. A tiny notch, but still.

  Meeting early isn’t totally out of character, but we usually stay late versus come early. I text Macy, and she confirms she’s coming with Ben, a friend from school. He’s pre-med, too. I feel better about Rafe shadowing her. I don’t care for him much, but he is a solid cop. A dick, yes, but good at his job.

  The club is getting set up, and the boys are working on my platform. I wave and head to my locker to put my bag away. Rogan is waiting at the bar, and the cop in him is showing. I end up getting stuck by some of the wait staff asking for requests, which I don’t do, so I remind them of it. They pout, but go away. I look for Rogan, and he’s already two steps ahead, waiting on the opposite side of Max’s door. I nod when I pass him, and head in.

  “You are bangin’ in that outfit Baby,” says Tony, smirking like a motherfucker.

  “Damn,” says Max.

  “You,” I say, pointing to Tony. “Don’t start. And you,” I say, pointing to Max. “Start talking.”

  “Girls are going missing. A few have been regulars here, we think,” says Max. “Keep both eyes open up there. You’ve got the best view of the place.”

  “I disagree,” says Tony. “I think the view from my booth is the best view, but he’s right, keep your eyes open.”

  “Uh huh,” I say, playing dumb. “What girls? And why am I just hearing about this?”

  “Because it wasn’t time to tell you yet,” replies Tony. “Now is the time.”

  “Does this have anything to do with who you think may or may not be following me?” I ask them.

  “It’s possible,” says Max. “These girls so far have no family that we know of. Beautiful, young, and not likely to be missed.”

  “You fit the bill, baby,” says Tony. “But you are far from breakable, so until we know how far up this goes, you would be the ultimate prize, and we won’t let that happen.” He gets up and comes over to me. He stops just shy of touching me, thank fuck, but I tense up anyway. Sensing my anxiety, he stays in place, but gives me a serious stare down. “I won’t fucking let that happen,” he growls softly. “You can deny me all you want, for now. I’ll allow it. But you and me will happen eventually. But first, I want you safe.”

  Thank the gods of rock Rogan isn’t in here with me, or there would be mass bloodshed. Feeling uncomfortable, cornered, and panicky, does not a happy Venessa make.

  “Tony,” I say lowering my voice. “You and me? Never gonna happen, so stop baiting me. Max,” I say, turning in his direction “Who, or what, am I looking for?”

  “That’s just it,” he says. “We don’t know yet. You are really fucking good at reading people while working the crowd. For now, get ‘em hyped, and anyone standing around will be suspect until we know more.”

  “Not gonna work,” I say. “People stand around all the time.”

  “It’s a start,” says Tony. “How’s that guard working out for you?”

  “Fine,” I answer. “We’re solid.”

  “Solid, huh?” he asks. “Where is the giant?”

  “Right outside the door,” I snap, getting pissed. “What’s your deal with him? You hired him.”

  “Max hired him,” he says. “I absently agreed. I do not like the way he looks at you. If I thought he was getting away with touching you, he’d be dead or unemployed right now.”

  My vision starts to blur. No one threatens my man, no one. Fuck the girls, the Captain, all t
his other under the radar bullshit, I will not allow anything to happen to him because of me. I’d hate to have to kill Tony, but if he touches Rogan, I will not hesitate.

  “Who touches me is not your concern. Do not make the mistake of crossing me in this, Tony. You want the challenge. You want to be the one who has rights to me, and I promise you, you are not that man,” I say, seething.

  I know a challenge when I see one. Tony is not stupid. If he noticed Rogan watching me, then I need to tread carefully here. I don’t really give a fuck about this pissing contest. There is no contest in my book.

  “I am that man,” he says. “You think some fucking hired hand is going to walk in here and take from me? I’ve got years invested, baby, years. No one fucking takes from me, Venessa. You think about that next time you shake your ass for that motherfucker. We’ll see who’s the last man standing.”

  “Whoa, okay kids, that’s enough,” Max says, stepping in between us. “Tony, cool off.”

  “I’m going to say this once to both of you,” I say, looking back and forth. “Don’t fuck with me. That hired hand is mine. You start interfering in my fucking life, my fucking business, I’ll slit your throat while you sip that pussy wine in that god damned booth you love so much. I belong to no one unless I fucking choose it. You wanna talk shit? Test me Tony.” I step up to his beautiful face. “Test me and see what I’m made of when someone takes from me.”

  “Fuck Venessa take a step back,” pleads Max, making no move to touch me.

  I’m breathing like a dragon and ready to fight, and he knows it. Tony wants me to lose it, the bastard. He’s getting off on this.

  “The same applies to you too, Max,” I say, trying to calm down.

  “No one is going to slit anyone’s throat, or do whatever Tony just said. Damn, man, no wonder you’re single,” says Max.

  “Kharma, Kharma, Kharma,” purrs Tony, and I freeze in place. He has never once called me that, and for some reason it freaks me out. I also get the feeling he’s about to tell me something he knows that I’m wishing he didn’t. “When I do make you mine it will be worth the fight and the wait. Would you like to know why?”

  “No,” I snarl. “I really fucking wouldn’t. Now move, I have to get ready.” I'm making an attempt to walk to the door as his words stop me cold.

  “Did you really think we didn’t know? Kharma?” He confirms my biggest fear. They know. “All these years, we’ve watched you, respected you, and protected you. We do our best to keep everyone away from you. It’s no secret who your father was; it’s no secret what happened to you. What you think you’re doing when no one is watching? I was always fucking watching, baby. Keeping your secrets like you kept ours. I’ve watched you grow from a lost little girl into a fucking killer, and it’s been amazing to see. You can run, you can fight, but when it’s over; I will be the one who breaks you down. You think I fear death, baby? I find solace in the fact that I know when it’s my time to die, it will be by your hand. I’ve known since the day I met you that you’d be the one, and I’m prepared for that. Are you? ”

  With that, he exits the room with his usual grace, leaving me standing there with my mouth open and my heart racing. When I hear him say to Rogan, in a far too cheerful voice, “Thanks for taking care of my girl” I know without a doubt it’s going to be a long night.

  Fuck! They know about her. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. I’m fucking pissed they actually encourage her behavior when they should be protecting her. Listening to Tony basically tell her it’s a matter of time until he fucks her has my blood pressure on ‘explode’. I understand her position, as far as our relationship. She can’t blow our cover necessarily, but what the fuck? She knows I’m here, but doesn’t know I can ‘hear’ so I’m feeling skeptical that she’s going to relay what went down in there, and not cover for Tony’s ass like she usually does. This loyalty shit is pissing me off. Break her? Fucking break her? Then the smug bastard walks by me, smiling, with a ‘thanks for taking care of my girl.’ Well, fuck you, dick. She’s my girl.

  I’m seriously struggling with this whole fucked up situation when she literally explodes from the office.

  She holds up her hand up to say ‘stop’ or ‘not now’, and I have no choice but to wait and hope my heart doesn’t pop.

  “You look pissed,” I say.

  “I am pissed,” she snaps.

  “What happened in there?”

  “What happened is those two fucks have been holding out on me for ‘my safety’,” she says with a sneer. “Now I’m supposed to watch my back, but keep my eyes open. Oh, and Tony would like the opportunity to assist me while I do.”

  “And?”

  “And, they’re looking for a reason to get you to bounce so Tony can do the job himself. Did I mention the part where they’ve known all about my extra-curricular activities?”

  Acting the part, I pretend outrage and anger. Oh, wait, no…that’s real shit I’m feeling.

  “I’m not going anywhere. So what’s next?”

  “What’s next is I have to work, and I need Macy protected when she gets here,” she says. “Rafe is watching?”

  “He’s on point,” I say. “We okay?”

  “We’re more than okay.” She sighs, while leaning up to kiss me “I just thought, outside of Macy, you, Rafe, and the Cap, that no one knew.”

  “They obviously cover for you, so why is this an issue for you?”

  “I’m pissed I didn’t hide it better is all.”

  “They’ve watched your back,” I remind her. “You help their cause, too, so basically you’ve been helping each other out. You’re the only one who didn’t know it. That what’s got you pissed?”

  “That’s part of it, yeah.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  “Tony,” she answers. “He’s pissing me off.”

  “Not if you let me handle him, he won’t.”

  “I’ve got Tony,” she seethes. “Give me five, and I’ll be ready to walk out.”

  “Venessa,” I say as she walks away. She turns, and I notice she looks sad but keeps going.

  “Five minutes,” she assures me, and disappears into the dressing room.

  When she disappears, I feel all sorts of weird shit. I’m pissed big time. But I’m also really proud of her. She not only took care of shit, but she told me about it. She held nothing back. Right now, the only one holding back is me. I know how she feels about privacy, but I’m in so deep with her I can’t just stop listening in. She hasn’t been on the streets lately, which has been a huge relief. That tracker has been invaluable to me, and maybe it’s wrong of me but I have to know if she’s being honest with me, how she feels about me, us, and even that fuckbag Tony. I keep waiting for that other bomb to go off, I can almost hear it ticking. Watching her walk away from me, I know that if she self-destructs, so will I.

  I have a lot of feelings raging right now, but I needed Rogan to know I’m with him, first and foremost. This thing with Tony, whatever it is, has to stop. I don’t know what drives it, but I cannot, and will not, fuel it. Tony is not the man for me. Max’s secrecy hurt, I’m not gonna lie. What the fuck are those two thinking? They knew about me, and still held back on me? I’m not sure how I feel about that. Right now, though, I just want to finish here and have Rogan to myself. Priding myself on never needing anyone, then suddenly needing someone’s reassurance, is new for me, but there it is.

  One of the perks of what I do is that there isn’t any script. I say what I want, and I do what I want. Tonight, I’m feeling angry and wanting to lash out. So I let the boys know that I need Saturday night's set up. That includes a mock fighter’s cage, more bounce staff, and different lighting. When I go hard, so to speak, I tend not to speak to the crowd. Mosh pits don’t require an MC. Well, at least, mine never have.

  I start the night off with one of my faves: “Under and Over It” by Five Finger Death Punch. The instrumentals are insane, the beat is like adrenaline in my veins, and the lyrics ar
e fucking sick. The crowd knows I tend to deviate, so when they saw the cage set up, shit got wild in a hurry. Humans love a lot of things, aggression being one of them.

  I fucking love aggression. What can I say? It’s a gift.

  Finishing my first track, I head into Kill Switch Engage. I’m so fucking primed, I need to head into the pit and let off some steam. I look up to spot Rogan to let him know I’m about to join the crowd when I see a woman approach him. Trying to compose the violence in my system, I wait. When she doesn’t leave, but touches his arm, my fists clench. He looks uncomfortable, but he isn’t pushing her away. Then I see his lips move, and I swear he asked her name. The dead girl is smiling, looking encouraged. I, on the other hand, am moving in for my kill. Not in my fucking club, not in my fucking city, not with my fucking man.

  I plow through the crowd, punching and pushing, getting cheers for my efforts. Fuck you, I think to myself. None of you mean shit to me. The only person here that does is being eye fucked by some slut, and not making any effort to stop it. You kids like a show? You’re about to get one.

  I come up behind the harlot, taking in Rogan’s expression. I see he’s annoyed with the dead girl, and he feels uncomfortable. No one makes him uncomfortable but me. Despite his efforts, which I will admit are weak, she doesn’t give up. That’s okay, hobag, this won’t hurt. Much…

  Standing behind her, I take in the one-sided conversation briefly before I attack. She’s taller than me, but that’s not a stretch. Her outfit is horrible. She’s built well, her hair needs work, but whatever’s left of it when I’m done, she can call a stylist to fix.

  “Turn around, bitch,” I snarl.

  “Excuse—?” she tries.

  See, the thing about me, is I may be small, but I prefer my enemy to see me before I go to work. This bitch is no exception. So the moment she turns to face me, I see that her smile that she still held was for my man, and I let loose.

  One upturned palm to her chin throws her back. Points to her for not hitting the floor right away. She looks shocked and a little confused. I have no time to care as to why. I do what I do best; I charge her, giving her a firm roundhouse to the stomach. When she bends over to hold herself, I attack her kidneys then the backs of both knees. So what, I like tae-bo? It’s great for your flanks.