Pawn: The Pawn Duet, Book Two

by Frazier, T. M.

  Summed up, it’s a sick ritual where all future leaders of the Reich require witnesses to their union. In layman’s terms, they want to watch us fuck.

  I remove my dress and undergarments and lift the covers, shaking as I slide between the cool sheets. I tug them up to cover my naked body. I remember Pike’s knife that’s strapped to my leg. I remove it from my garter and tuck it under one of the pillows.

  And I wait.

  There’re a thousand hornets stinging at my skin, puncturing every nerve I have as the door swings open. Darius enters first, draped in a white robe. His lined face is expressionless, but it’s his dark eyes that are glistening with amusement as he looks me over approvingly.

  I ignore the impulse to protectively lift my knees to my chest and instead sit straight on the bed, my back flush against the cool metal of the headboard.

  The other elders follow him inside the trailer, taking their places around the bed. I nod to Darius in greeting, and he nods back, opening a small book in his hands.

  “We are honored to witness the consummation of the future of the Fourth Reich and are here to ensure that the joining takes place which will produce the next generation of pure bloods and pure souls.” Daruis closes the book and nods to the man I know as Eleven. He opens the door once again and in walks Percy with his hands folded in front of him and his eyes to the ground. He’s wearing the same white robe as the elders. The door is closed behind him. The sound of the lock clicking in place causes my spine to jump. The only jumping I want to do right now is out of the fucking window.

  “God has honored you with this gift of your chosen one. May you serve him and the fourth Reich well. May you fulfill your duties and carry out his will as only he intended.”

  I want to both vomit and cringe. God? Really? They’re bringing God into their bullshit? Then again, what better authority to claim to have than someone you can’t ask questions or demand the truth from.

  Percy steps to the side of the bed, and Darius removes the robe from Percy’s shoulders to reveal a very naked, tattooed body underneath.

  Percy doesn’t so much as look at me as he peels the covers back from my body, exposing me to the men in the room who lean over with interested, lust-filled eyes to catch a glimpse as he places his hands on my knees and spreads my legs.

  I swallow hard, but I can’t stop my body from shaking. I can’t pretend that I’m not disgusted and afraid and even more angry as his chest grazes mine.

  He’s supposed to be on my side! Why did he agree to this? Say something, Percy! I silently shout.

  He pulls the blanket over us and braces himself on his forearms, leaning down he whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry. Trust me. Please.”

  “Go on,” Darius demands, sounding both irritated and eager.

  Percy slides his hand under the pillow and out of the corner of my eye I see him pull something from underneath, and at first, I think it’s my knife, but I can still feel it beneath my head. He reaches down, and I assume he’s adjusting himself because after a few seconds I can feel him positioned at my entrance, and I close my eyes. But no matter how tightly shut they are, it can’t block out the feeling of him thrusting inside of me. I take a deep breath, and to my relief, it doesn’t hurt even though my body wasn’t anywhere close to being ready. “Trust me,” Percy whispers again.

  I want to trust him, but it’s hard with all the nonconsensual sex going on.

  “We will have to inspect before we leave you to continue,” Daruis announces.

  “Just hurry the fuck up, so I can fuck my new bride in peace,” Percy grates. His words are crass, but the way he’s looking at me when he says it makes him appear almost apologetic for being inside of me.

  If Pike wasn’t going to kill him before, he sure as shit is going to kill him now.

  Darius slides the blanket off of us, and Percy leans back so Darius can have a full view of penetration.

  I’m shaking as Darius nods and then claps approvingly. “We have consummation.” The rest of the men clap as well, looking downright disappointed when Darius ushers them from the room as they hold their books over their crotches to hide their erections.

  Percy tugs the blanket back over us and rests on his elbows beside my head. He isn’t touching me anywhere except for where our bodies are connected.

  This wasn’t a consummation. This was an exhibition for a bunch of pervs. Although now that they are leaving, I have no idea what’s going to happen.

  What if he wants to continue? To finish?

  “Congratulations,” Daruis says as he leaves the trailer and shuts the door.

  I’m about to reach for the knife under the pillow when Percy grabs my wrist. “Hold on,” he groans, pulling out from my body. He pushes his hand between our bodies once more and sits up on his knees.

  And then he takes his penis off.

  Wait, he’s taking his penis off!

  “What the fuck?” I gasp as he tosses what I realize is a flesh toned dildo to the side of the bed. He then reaches between his legs. His face twists in agony as he removes a long strip of flesh colored tape, freeing his actual penis which was tucked up between his legs. “God fucking damn it!” he cries out, falling beside me on the bed and covering himself with the blankets. “I knew it would hurt, but holy shit,” he laughs as his eyes tear up from the pain. “It was fine until I saw you naked. I didn’t think I’d even get fucking hard, but I’m a fucking guy and ahhhh…it hurt so much worse.”

  He sits beside me and covers himself with the blanket. His face is red, and his teeth are gnashed together.

  “What the fuck just happened here?” I ask, pulling the covers over my naked body and sitting up.

  “What happened was that a bunch of old pervs think I fucked my non-legal wife on the night of our forced fake-wedding,” he groans and takes a deep breath. When his pain ebbs, he turns to me. “Sorry if I hurt you with that thing. It’s the closest I could get to the real deal on such short notice.”

  His eyes point to the dildo.

  “So, you didn’t. We didn’t.” I sigh in relief and let my head rest against the headboard. The relief doesn’t last long. I snap my head to look at Percy who is breathing hard with a similar grin of relief on his face.

  “No, we didn’t.” he says, sitting up next to me.

  “But, why?” I ask. “Why go through all of this trouble? Why not just do it for real?”

  “Because you can’t get someone to trust you just because you ask them to. Someone recently taught me that trust has to be earned.” Percy smiles. “And because I wanted to prove to them, and maybe even myself, that I’m not the monster they want me to be. Not anymore.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe, suddenly at a loss for words while trying to understand this new revelation and what it means.

  “So, what now?” I finally ask after a few beats of silence between us.

  The window slides open, and a dark shadowy hand reaches over the ledge. I reach for the knife.

  Percy picks his robe on the floor, wrapping it around his body. “What happens now is entirely up to you.”

  “Who the hell is that?” I ask as large a man pulls himself over the ledge. I clamor to the far edge of the bed, clutching my knife and wondering why the hell Percy isn’t as concerned about someone climbing in through the window of his trailer.

  Percy smiles. “Consider this a wedding gift.”

  The light shines on the man’s arm, a rusted handcuff around his wrist. Exhaling, I loosen my grip on my weapon.

  “Pike,” I gasp, relieved and grateful that he’s here.

  He’s here.

  “Why the hell are you here?” I ask. “I feel like I keep asking you that.”

  “Because you do keep asking me that,” he replies. Pike rakes my naked body over with a dark gaze so heated I feel as if I’m melting. His nostrils flare, and I look down, realizing why. In my hurry to get away from the would-be intruder, the blankets are no longer covering me.

  Pike lurches forwar
d and yanks them up my body. I tuck them beneath my chin and he spins around to Percy, cracking his knuckles. “Did he hurt you?” he says between his teeth.

  “No. He didn’t. I mean, we didn’t,” I stammer.

  He looks down at Percy, baring his teeth like a wild animal. “Understand this, if your cock ever gets that close to her again. If you ever look at her for more than a second, I’ll rip your fucking cock off and feed it to the alley cats.”

  Percy raises his hand in surrender. “Understood, man. You’re a better man than me. If another man got that close to my old lady, I’d— ”

  “Trying to give me ideas?”

  “Uh, no.” Percy ties the sash of his robe. “You didn’t ask me if I was hurt.”

  Pike scoffs. “You hurt?” His voice laced with sarcasm.

  “Fuck yeah, I am. That idea of yours worked great, but shit ain’t going to be right with my dick for a long fucking time.”

  Pike smirks. “It’ll feel a lot worse when I cut it off and let you bleed out.”

  “This was your idea,” I say to Pike. It’s not a question.

  “I’ll take that as my cue to leave.” Percy heads to the door. “I’ll go back out to the party and tell them you’re resting after we—”

  Pike growls deep in his throat, standing between me and Percy.

  “After, you know, the thing,” Percy backtracks. “Lock the door behind me.”

  “Percy, wait!” I raise up to my knees and push Pike aside so I can see Percy.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. For everything.” I look to Pike.

  Percy’s gaze shifts to the floor, obviously uncomfortable with the sentiment. “Uh, yeah. Well, it was all Pike’s idea. I just sent him a message, and well, he’s here now.” He thinks for a moment and lifts his eyes to Pike. “I know me and you got issues that can’t be healed. I accept that. But I’ve known Mickey since we were kids. We may not really be married, but she’s as close to family as I got. I might have put down my gun, but if you hurt one fucking hair on her head, you best believe I’ll be picking it back up.”

  12

  Mickey

  Pike is beyond handsome. From the depth of his eyes and full lips to his sharp square. His oak colored hair falls into his face as he looks me up and down, casually draping over his otherwise very serious features.

  His tight, white t-shirt shows every ridge of muscle flexing beneath. His strong thighs cased in light denim don’t hinder him from being almost graceful as he stalks toward me. He turns the metal cuffs around on his wrists.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me again.

  “I…I think so,” I reply, fixated as he rotates the cuff over and over again. “So much has happened. I haven’t had a moment to take a mental inventory.” He squats down so we are at eye level and gently swings my legs over the side of the bed, resting his hands on my knees.

  “But are you okay?” Pike asks again, searching my eyes for the truth, tenderly rubbing his thumbs over the skin above my knees right over the matching scars I received courtesy of a fall off my bike.

  “You know, when I was younger, Papa never kissed our boo-boos or held us when we cried. Instead, he’d break down the science of our injury and explain the healing process.” I laugh without smiling. “Not exactly comforting words for a four-year-old who just fell off her bike.”

  Papa wasn’t the comforting type, and at first glance, no one in their right mind would think Pike would be either. But he is. At least to me. He’s comfort wrapped around a steel frame. With him, I feel safe. Free.

  “What’s got you making that face, Mic?” He pulls me against his chest, and I inhale deeply.

  I shake my head. “Physically, I’m fine. Mentally…I’m thinking about my father. Even if this was my real wedding day, knowing what I know now about him, he still wouldn’t be here, even if he were alive.”

  “He was a traitor. A liar,” Pike points out. “Don’t waste your thoughts on him. Plus, it wasn’t your real wedding day.” He grips my legs possessively.

  “I know, and maybe, it’s because his approval was a competition between me and my sisters. Maybe, it’s because I always held out hope for the hug or those words of reassurance. But they never came, and although my disappointment mounted, my love for him never faded.” I sniffle. “If anything, it only grew. But now, saying this aloud to you, I can finally hear myself, and knowing what he’s done and why? I can’t believe I didn’t recognize it before. I can’t believe I didn’t see him for who he really is.”

  “Recognize what?” Pike asks, pushing a strand of hair from my eyes.

  I lean into his touch. “Papa was a classic narcissist. The world revolved around him. We revolved around him. Him and his twisted goals. We were not his children. We were merely trophies on his shelf. He didn’t comfort us because he didn’t care. Not about us. Only himself.”

  “I couldn’t even tell him if I had a bad day because he would just be irritated and blow me off as if my feelings were annoying.”

  “Do you know how hard I tried to make him love me? When the accomplishments weren’t enough for anything more than a great, what’s next? I rebelled. I got a D on a science project once.”

  Pike raises an eyebrow.

  “I know, but trust me, to me and to my father, a D was the ultimate act of rebellion. It may not be as direct as breaking someone’s jaw, but it hit him just as hard. But when I showed it to him, it only earned me the silent treatment from Papa. He didn’t speak to me until my next test. So, I tried being honest with him. I opened up to him. I went into his office one night, and I told him that I love him, and I’d like to explain the way I’ve been feeling lately and wanted to talk to him about the pressure I’m under. I just wanted him to listen. To react. Something.”

  “What did he say?” Pike presses. He cups my face in his hand and I turn my head to brush my lips over his open palm.

  “He shut me down. Rolled his eyes and told me that I was being emotional due to my overactive hormones. He dismissed my feelings with a diagnosis.”

  “It’s like he couldn’t handle even the most basic human emotion. I don’t know if he just didn’t want to talk about them or…or if he even had them. I tried to think of what could have happened to him to make him so cold, so unavailable, but that only caused me to lie awake at night and analyze him over and over again, when the truth is, I didn’t have enough information to go on, and it’s not like I could say, “Hey Papa, anything in your past ever happen that would make you this emotionally twisted person? Ever been spanked in public? Exposed to any sexual situations before puberty?” I shake my head. “I guess I’ll always wonder.”

  “People are complicated,” he offers. “You of all people should know that by now.”

  “They are so much more than complicated, and yet––” I look him in his beautiful eyes, “––sometimes, what we feel can be so simple.”

  “You mean like this shit between us?” Pike presses a kiss to the inside of my knee. “Because it’s complicated as fuck, but what I’m feeling right now, for you. What I want. From you. “ He scrapes his teeth up the inside of my thigh. “It’s pretty fucking simple. It’s all the other shit that comes with it that’s hard.”

  He sits up on his knees and lightly wraps his hand around my throat. A possessive hold. “My mom left me, when I was a kid. I didn’t get a chance to get to know if she was the caring kind or not but from what I remember, I think she could have been. She left me, Mic, but you can’t. You can put distance between us, but you can’t really leave.”

  “Because you’ll always find me?” I swallow hard.

  “No,” He rubs his hand over his chest like he’s in pain. “Because you’re still in here. But when you’re gone, this place inside of me…it hurts like fucking hell. Like I want to punch inside my own chest and tear my fucking heart out to stop the hurt.” His grip on my throat grows tighter. “You still think I’m a psychopath?”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  He grins.


  “You still think I’m crazy?”

  He bites my bottom lip. “Craziest bitch I’ve ever met.”

  Crazy and psycho. A love story.

  “I think I’ve finally figured you out, Pike.”

  “I thought you already did that?” He dips his head, lightly brushing his lips over my collar bone.

  My entire body tingles. Resting my hands on the mattress my head falls back to give him better access to my body. “No. I thought I had, but I was wrong. I saw simple observations and drew conclusions. I judged you, and I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t even close. You’re so much more than a man with a reading disorder. More than your loneliness. You’re complicated. Strong. The strongest man I’ve ever known. You’re loyal, and you’ll fight for what’s yours, even if it means your own life. I find comfort with you when I was never able to find comfort in my own father.”

  His voice is low and rough, vibrating against my skin. “Because you’re mine.”

  I try to sit up but he pushes me back down.“I’m not—”

  Pike cuts me off. “You’re not mine like the shit in my pawn shop, Mic. But you’re mine as much as I’m yours. A part of me. But like the shit in my shop, you were right about all of it. I was trying to fill a hole inside, but with you, there ain’t no hole.” He licks a trail down my belly button. “And I’d fucking die for you.”

  My entire body begins to tremble from the growing desire and from the idea that Pike believes I complete him. His words are both thrilling and terrifying. “I don’t want you to make that sacrifice. Not for me.”

  “And I won’t, because I won’t die…” he looks up at me as he spreads my legs wide. He runs his nose through my wet folds. “But not because I’m not willing to.”

  His confession inspires me to lower the shield around my heart to the possibility of a life with Pike. A real life. “What happens after this is all over?”

  Pike crawls over my body, brushing his lips over mine. I shudder. “You and me. That’s what’s happens. Shit, it’s already happened. There’s no going back now, Mic.”