Stripped Raw

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Stripped Raw Page 12

by Miss Merikan


  Candy was surprised to see Red Jack sitting on a stool by them and talking to a clearly underage brunette with a silly grin. The massive rock of a man looked out of place in a boutique filled with frilly dresses. Red Jack was all biker chic with his leather cut over a tight black T-shirt with a skull and tight-fitting black jeans. The teen girls on the sofa didn’t seem to mind the age difference or the black-and-white tattoos covering his arms up to the knuckles. The young brunette reached to Red Jack’s thick ginger beard. It was well groomed, as if straight out of the barber’s. Add a fashionable long undercut, and he was a ginger biker peacock on the prowl for peachicks.

  Candy’s gaze stayed on him a bit too long, but she turned to Gina as soon as she appeared.

  “Hey there, sweetie. Looking for a dress?” Gina asked with a pageant smile. She looked nothing like she did at the clubhouse. Dressed in a sleek blue dress that went well with her ruby hair, she was the perfect sales lady at a place such as this.

  “Not exactly …” Candy walked up closer to Gina. “I was in the area, because I was picking up my car from the garage. I wanted to thank Sam for the work he did on it, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

  Gina blinked, pulling a strand of stray hair behind her ear. “Don’t you have his number?”

  “Yeah, I do, but I wanted to surprise him. He hasn’t really been calling lately, so I thought that he’s probably busy, or out of town.” It wasn’t exactly a question, but Candy ended the sentence on a high note, as if it were.

  Gina stepped back. “Oh ... oh, I’m sorry, honey,” she said, reaching out to hold Candy’s hand. “I’ve seen him around, so he’s in town. What happened?”

  Candy glimpsed at Red Jack, who was surely eavesdropping. Maybe it was for the better? He could tell Sam what she thought about all this. She swallowed and looked to Gina’s sincere, if a bit over-painted, eyes. “I don’t know. He just vanished when I thought we were getting close. I’m so stupid.”

  Gina frowned, looking away. “Well, Sam isn’t known for settling on one girl, but he seemed interested in you. Maybe I could pass him a message?”

  Candy took a deep breath. “Yes, could you please tell him that when my store is ready to open, he shouldn’t come round, ‘cause he won’t be getting any pie from me.”

  Gina chuckled and started saying something, but her words drowned in the deep voice of Red Jack, who approached them with a wide smile.

  “That’s Sam. Don’t be surprised. He’s got a short attention span.”

  Gina looked at Candy, wordlessly asking whether she was supposed to get rid of him, but Candy turned to Red Jack and crossed her arms on her chest. “Oh, yeah? ‘Cause you’re any different? All men are the same. They all just take and never give back,” she hissed, fighting back the stinging in her eyes.

  Red Jack frowned, looking at her from above, his perfect beard pointing straight at her. “Don’t be so bitter, Candy. There are worse things in the world than an asshole losing interest. You know there’s plenty of guys around you?”

  “Oh, so now your bestie is an asshole?” She raised her eyebrows and poked his chest despite him towering over her. At least her beehive reached his chin.

  Red gave a low chuckle and spun her around by the arm. “I never said that. Is he in love with me, or somethin’?” he chuckled, cupping Candy’s shoulder with his huge hand.

  She growled, but next to him, she felt like a Chihuahua barking at a Rottweiler. “I don’t know. Do you both suck?”

  Red Jack let out a chuckle and pulled her against his side. “Why, does he have a pussy?”

  “What are you trying to achieve here, huh? I’m not some girlie, to be passed around. I’m a business woman.” Candy was painfully aware of how it sounded from someone wearing a pineapple-print dress.

  Red spun her around, and before she knew it, she was sitting on a sofa, with his big body scooting in front of her.

  “You might be a business woman, but you seem to need something to cheer you up. Maybe you like one of those dresses, huh?”

  Candy looked away with a pout. Was he actually trying to be nice? Knew that his buddy did a shitty thing and tried to make her feel better? “No, I don’t like them,” she muttered.

  Red Jack exhaled and brushed his thumb over her hand. “You need more color?”

  She slowly looked into his blue eyes, feeling kinda special. After all, he stopped flirting with the teens to talk to her. “A blue one, maybe …”

  Red Jack looked back and called to a sales assistant, “Hey, what do you have in blue?”

  The girl chewed on her lip and ventured to the back, so Red turned his attention to Candy again. His hands were twice as large as hers.

  “We could hang out after we’re done here. What do you say?”

  “Um… I don’t know if I’m in the mood. I’ve had a bad day.”

  “I’ve got a beach house and a water bed. I’m sure that could cheer you up,” said Red, pulling her up and toward where the saleswoman had disappeared. There was a sea of satin and tulle in the other room, but Red Jack was pulling Candy toward a velvet curtain.

  “I don’t know if these dresses are my style,” she said, unsure how she felt about Red Jack’s tight grip, and pretending not to hear his crass advances.

  “Why don’t you just try them on?” he asked, pushing her into the dressing room. She held her breath when he went in after her and pulled the curtain shut, locking them in the small makeshift room. She was alone with his towering presence.

  “Hey … Jack, this is not on,” Candy whispered, clutching onto her bag, unsure whether she should be whipping out the pepper spray or laughing nervously. She looked up into his blue eyes, trying to read what option would be best.

  “What isn’t on? Tell me, babe?” he asked, slowly backing her into the wall.

  “I mean… maybe under different circumstances, maybe if I got to know you. I’m kind of still interested in Sam, so …” Candy took a deep breath. This was ridiculous. She was panicking over nothing. She just needed to take charge of the situation.

  “That’s a fuckin’ bummer, Candy, ‘cause he hasn’t been talkin’ much about you. I just guessed you needed some cheerin’ up. What’s it gonna be?” Red Jack leaned closer and gave her a cocky grin. “I bet that pussy of yours is starved out after two weeks.”

  Candy slammed his arm with her bag. “That is so rude!” But her heart was shriveling into the pit of sadness. Of course, Sam didn’t even mention her. What did he care? He had some fun with a pretty girl, and that was that.

  Red’s chest came closer, and before Candy could make up her mind about where to go with this, she was trapped against the wall, with that big, musky-smelling body leaning over her. His thick hands rested at the sides of her head. Should she scream? He didn’t seem to listen.

  “Isn’t that what you like, darlin’?”

  Candy’s face burned, and her heart started thumping. “What did he tell you?” Sam promised he wasn’t like that, that he’d keep their sex private. Or was it just her imagination? Did she just envision Sam as the guy she wanted to get instead of really getting to know him? Did Sam tell Red Jack she didn’t wear panties sometimes? Or did he tell Jack about the freaky light-up vibrator?

  Jack’s eyes glinted. “Candy, you’re killing me here. What else is there?” he asked, slowly brushing his thick fingers against her side.

  She pushed on his chest with a frown. “Whatever he told you, it’s not true. I’m not a nympho.”

  “You aren’t?” Jack’s hand slipped up her body. Candy froze when it closed around her breast. He looked her in the eyes with a cocky grin. “You don’t seem to push me away hard enough.”

  It was as if time stopped. There was nothing wrong with Red Jack. He was the type of guy she’d go for. The bad choice type of guy. Tattooed, dangerous, and forward. But her heart wasn’t empty anymore. Even if Sam had really dumped her, she was still hung up on him, and if Jake were anything to go by, Candy would be heartbroken for at least tw
o months.

  She grabbed his wrist and pushed it away with more force, but before she could say anything, they heard a scream at the front of the store, and then another.

  Red Jack stepped away from her and pulled out a gun, his eyes becoming completely serious.

  “Shh,” he urged her, backing away toward the curtain. He hooked his fingertips against the edge of the fabric and moved it just enough to peek outside. He bared his teeth and pulled the safety on.

  “You can’t just ask my customers to leave,” yelled Gina.

  She was answered by a low, masculine voice. “I’m sorry, Miss, but we have reasons to suspect this place is used for illegal purposes. That’s the warrant.”

  Candy made wide eyes at Red Jack in silent question, as the noise continued with more male voices and boots stomping on the ground.

  “Paulson, escort the customers,” said the gruff voice.

  Red Jack gently pulled the curtains open, just so that the dressing space didn’t seem occupied, and grabbed Candy, pulling her into the corner, this time clearly too serious to be molesting. He picked up his cell phone and started frantically typing something as he pressed her against some wedding dresses wrapped in plastic. His breath was coming in sharp gasps as they listened to the commotion inside the store.

  When he pushed Candy further, the dresses inhaled them into their taffeta innards and spat them out on the other side, where there were a few inches of space between the rack with dresses and the wall. Candy could have screamed and pulled out of his grasp, but the last thing she wanted was to get Sam’s club in trouble. There seemed to be enough of that already at the front of the store.

  Red Jack exhaled, squeezing Candy’s waist with his huge hand. “Hope you’re comfortable, darlin’. We’re on dangerous territory. At least dangerous for a man,” he muttered, hunched over and pressed against the wall to fit into the small space.

  “Can I do something?” she whispered, goose bumps raising on her arms, as the aggressive stomping approached the back of the store.

  “All clear here!” yelled one of the policemen.

  Red licked his lips and looked her in the eyes. “Take my gun,” he whispered, and Candy barely held back a yelp when something hard nudged her lower stomach. The barrel, no doubt.

  She whimpered and held up her bag. “It’s tiny.”

  Red frowned, and as the noise came closer, he pushed his hand against her face, completely shutting her up. “Hush,” he hissed in the moment when Candy felt her skirt go up. She sensed cold steel brush across her naked stomach and then diving lower, pushing open the waistband of her panties and tights.

  She stiffened in his grip as he left his gun down the front of her panties and pushed the front of her skirt back down. Candy still couldn’t move. “What now?”

  Red grabbed her jaw, and his mouth brushed hers in a soothing kiss. “You casually leave. Go now,” he said with a pat to her ass.

  She gave him a panicked look, confused by what was happening around her, but pushed through the dresses. She didn’t even have to feign looking like she was about to cry. At least wearing tights, she didn’t have to worry about a gun falling out of her panties. Worrying about the thing firing and ripping her stomach into zombie food was another thing altogether. The thing was so heavy and cold, it almost felt like it was freezing her clitoris.

  There were policemen swarming the place, and two of them immediately looked up at her from above a huge box full of lace trimmings, as if any movement could set them off.

  “Are you a customer?” one of them asked. “We already asked everyone to leave.”

  “Y-yes.” Candy raised her trembling hands. “I’m so sorry. I was looking at dresses in the back and got so scared. I thought it was a robbery at first.”

  They looked at each other, and one of them dropped the lace, gesturing for her to follow. “I’m sorry we scared you. Don’t drive before you feel calm enough, all right?” he asked her as if she were a little child.

  As they walked through the store, Candy tried not to look around too much. What if they deemed her suspicious and searched her panties? Surely, there were some female officers available to do that? What was the sentence for possession of illegal weapons anyway?

  Her gaze drifted to the officer talking to Gina on the pavement in front of the store, and she stared for a moment too long. She was certain she’d seen him before. And when he spoke again, she noticed a big gap between his front teeth. He was at Bert’s diner once. Had he been undercover or just on a day off? He’d spent ages alone and didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.

  Candy didn’t have time to ponder on it though. She sniffed and nodded when another officer asked her if she was fine. She sat in her car and started it as soon as the policeman who walked her disappeared inside the building. She couldn’t just stay here, risking exposure. She could only hope Gina wouldn’t have any further problems. Was the store being searched just because she was Borg’s girlfriend? Could police do that?

  Dwelling on those thoughts, Candy drove away, too afraid to touch the gun that at this point was thoroughly warmed up. How did you sanitize a gun? Could she just use a sex toy cleaner before she gave it back to Red Jack?

  Candy was happy to see her usual parking spot in front of her apartment wasn’t taken. She took a deep breath and got out of the car. Almost home. Her legs felt like lead as she walked toward the building.

  “Yo, woman!” called someone behind her back, and she froze on the spot, still staring at the entrance to her apartment building as if it could provide her any help. But nothing could possibly help her get away from Bastian.

  Candy turned around like a slow-motion ballerina and faked a smile. “Hey,” she uttered. Could this day get any worse?

  Bastian walked over to her, followed by Goldy, who looked like a slightly more handsome version of the steel-toothed Bond villain, though he was probably twice as intimidating.

  “You’re home late,” said Goldy, sucking on his cigarette.

  “Y-yeah.” Candy approached them stiffly. “I was at three different banks, but I had problems getting money out of my account. Must be one of my clients paying by check, and the money hasn’t gone through yet.”

  Bastian frowned. “Are you saying you don’t have the money?”

  “I’ll have it tomorrow.” She looked from one man to the other in panic. “I promise. It just didn’t come together today.”

  Bastian poked her between the collarbones. “Lady, it ain’t work that way. You either pay up, or we take something of value.”

  “I don’t have much. Come on … cut me some slack. I can give you guys twenty bucks for the hassle of coming today. How about that?”

  Goldy bared his metal teeth. “Are you fucking with us?” But Bastian held him by the arm and nodded toward the street.

  “You have your car.”

  Candy held her breath and just stared. “It’s a piece of junk with wheels. How will I earn money if I can’t get orders to customers?” She clenched her hands over her handbag as her fingers started trembling. She was so fucked.

  Bastian shrugged and reached out to her. “You figure that out. No concern of mine.”

  Candy held back her tears, knowing they wouldn’t soften that thug’s heart, only humiliate her further. Getting the car keys from her bag was like fighting an invisible force. She’d never felt as powerless in her life.

  She handed over the keys with a trembling exhale. A horrible ending to a horrible day. Sam didn’t like her, she got her car taken away, she was kissed by the wrong man, and had a gun stuffed down her panties. Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

  Chapter 12

  Paulson had it coming. Sam drove the car as quickly as he could without breaking any laws, as the last thing they needed now was getting more attention from the cops. They were in civilian clothes, anonymous without their patches, as they headed to the motel where Viper followed Paulson to after the raid on Gina’s wedding dress store. Today’s events confirmed their suspi
cions about someone in the club having no secrets from the police.

  Just thinking about it had Sam’s hands tightening on the steering wheel. The Coffin Nails were family. The clubhouse was the first place where Sam truly felt like he belonged, and his brothers were closer to him than his parents had ever been. They had each other’s backs even when they argued, and to think one of them would rat out the club made his blood pressure rise to dangerous levels.

  They would pull the information on who it was out of Paulson, even if they had to do that along with his tongue. The fucker had it coming for way too long now. He should have minded his own Goddamn business like he used to in the good old days.

  Borg furiously texted with Viper, who kept his eye on Paulson’s motel room. Sam yet again felt honored to be chosen as one of the few who came on this run. It was just him, Red Jack, Borg, and Glock. All ready for show time.

  They parked the car a block away from the motel, in front of a bank, and walked the rest of the way. Even now that it was getting dark, they couldn’t risk Paulson sensing any danger at all. The fucker hadn’t been in his apartment for almost a month, leaving most of his stuff behind, as if he intended to come back. He wasn’t frequenting the police station either, and up until the moment Red Jack saw him in the wedding parlor, he seemed to have disappeared, possibly moved to another state.

  Red managed to exit Gina’s store through the back, and there was a fat chance Paulson didn’t know he’d been spotted.

  Borg was still on the phone with Viper when he stopped them all with a short gesture. “He’s watching the street through the front window. Viper says we should go from the back, through his balcony. No one lives downstairs, so we’ll be safe from that side.”

  “Got it,” muttered Red Jack as their small group skirted down the street, trying to catch as little attention as possible. They had to circle the building to approach the motel from the back, which was hidden from view by a row of trees. No cameras either. It was perfect.

 

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