by Lisa Ladew
Knox shook his head like he was disapproving of the naughty antics of a young child. "Shut the fuck up for once in your life," he hissed, but Daxton was already elbowing him out of the way, trying to get a better look at the woman in the kitchen.
Too late, Knox realized what Daxton was going to do. Daxton slipped past him and headed for the kitchen. Knox sighed and shut the door, then locked it and followed.
Daxton already had his hand out. "Hi, I'm Daxton."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Mica."
They shook and Daxton looked at him questioningly. Knox smirked at him. Let him figure it out.
Daxton turned back to Mica. "Not Rachel?"
Mica blushed and glanced at Knox under her lashes.
Knox waited. He wanted to hear this.
"That wasn't really my name," she said softly, but didn't offer anything else.
Knox nodded. That made sense. He'd searched the entire country for the name on her train ticket and never found her. Of course it had been a fake name. He wondered what her name had been, betting it wasn't Mica. He wasn't going to ask with Daxton here though.
Daxton gave her his most charming smile and Knox felt like he could cheerfully punch his brother in the face. Possessiveness roared up inside him, knocking him off balance for a moment. He knew Daxton was just fucking with him. Daxton would never go after a woman Knox had ever been involved with, or was even remotely interested in, but Knox still hated to see that smile. Daxton could be very charming with the ladies when he wanted to be. All the Rosesson brothers could. They'd gotten it from their father as sure as they'd gotten his smile and build and fucked-up superstitious nature. Only Phoenix and Bronx had ever had actual fights over women though. Daxton and Knox were too close, too bonded. They'd been through too much together, growing up in their own special brand of hell, shielding the younger boys from their father's 'discipline'.
"Mica," Daxton said, his panty-dropping smile still firmly on his face. "What a beautiful name. And your eyes, please forgive me for saying so but they are really quite stunning."
Mica turned a deeper shade of red and glanced at Knox again, her lips tilting into a reluctant smile. "Thank you," she said and looked towards the sink like she were wishing she could escape there.
Knox resisted the urge to grab his brother by the ear and pull him out the door. Instead he addressed Mica. "Did you know about the Brotherhood of Saints?"
She shook her head. "This is the first I'm hearing of it. I knew he had some weird beliefs, but he never seemed to be religious. I never heard him say a word about God."
Daxton shifted and made a face, like he was trying to restrain himself. Knox saw he didn't try too hard. His left hand plunged into his pocket and he shifted his weight, leaving his hand in his pocket like he'd meant to put it in there. He gave Knox a sheepish look then went back to staring at Mica. Knox smiled. Daxton might be a charmer, but he couldn't keep his childhood superstitions at bay, even as a twenty-eight year old man.
Knox nodded at Mica, then cuffed Daxton on the shoulder to get him to tear his eyes away from her. "Anything else on Bailey?"
Daxton looked at him, grinning again. "The secret service and FBI watched him pretty close for awhile after that arrest. He moved into a motel and got into a lot of trouble for fighting and drinking, but six months later he moved into the house that he had listed as his principle residence and fell off the map. He's never been arrested since."
Knox thought hard, wondering what Bailey had been involved in for the last ten years. Men like him didn't often turn over a new leaf, not without some catastrophic event. Besides, here he was, threatening and extorting Mica again, proving he was still the same old dangerous criminal.
Knox just hoped he'd be able find him and stop him before Mica paid too steep of a price.
Chapter 9
Mica
Mica listened to Knox issue orders into his phone, marveling at his smooth competence, his effortless leadership. She reclined on her couch, her legs tucked under her, trying to read the latest astronomy book she had bought, but really only covering the same paragraph over and over again. Knox sat at her dining table with multiple laptops and phones spread out in front of him.
They hadn't had a chance to talk since Daxton had left. Knox had called the police and made a report about Bailey staring in her bathroom window, then launched right into work, telling her there were a few things he needed to do while Bailey's trail was still warm. The police had certainly treated him better than they ever had her. She knew both Knox's father's company and Knox's company donated huge sums of money to the San Francisco Police Department, almost single-handedly funding departments like crime stoppers and putting new computers in all the patrol cars. The mayor had even named a bridge after Felix Rosesson and the chief of police was a standard guest at the Rosesson mansion.
Mica stared at the words on the page, willing them to make sense. She had tried to work, but couldn't concentrate on that either. Her phone buzzed on the table next to her. She looked at it. A text from Justin.
Mica stared out her window at the darkness of the falling night and tried to decide if she should even look at it. She couldn't handle Justin right now, but he would also be a welcome distraction. Besides, she couldn't ignore him either. He might need her. Not that she could be much help to him in her current state.
You still alive? Check my instagram. The show is gonna be DELICIOUS!
Mica smiled. She missed Justin suddenly, missed him fiercely. His enthusiastic energy, his sassy wit, his gentle teasing, and his authentic compliments. She knew him, she understood him. He accepted her. Being in the company of Mr. tall, dark, and inscrutable for so long was putting her on edge. She had felt better at spilling the secrets, but there was still more to tell, and right now he didn't want to hear it, plus she had no idea what he thought of what she'd already shared either.
Mica fastened her eyes on the back of Knox's head, on the dark curls there, and wondered if he was different now. The Knox she'd gotten to know had been very open, quick with a smile, quick to flirt, spoke his mind easily, and loved to shock her with his words. She could still remember every detail about her first experience with his kind of searing vocal expression.
He pushed her legs wide and gazed down at her most private place that no man had ever seen before. Rachel's cheeks heated at the intensity of his stare. She took a peek at him, then dropped her head back to the pillow, the movement of the train rocking her, giving her something to focus on instead of her embarrassment.
"God you are gorgeous," he whispered. "So pink. So perfect. So soft. I could stare at you all day and night."
He bent his head and gently kissed her, just above her clitoris, sending sweet spears of tingles up her stomach and down her legs. Clinically, she knew this was what some people did during sex, she'd heard the whispers in the locker room, but she'd always thought it abnormal, and nothing she'd ever do. Let a man kiss her down there? No way! Now she knew differently. She held her breath, mentally urging him on. Wanting him to lick her, wanting so badly to feel the sensation.
He did then, touching her with the tip of his tongue with such insane gentleness that she thought she might go mad. She arched back into the thin mattress and sucked in a breath as impossible bliss flooded through her. His tongue left her and she almost cried. But then it was back, moving expertly from the hood of her clitoris down so far he was at her opening, then back up. As his tongue swept up, the feeling of heaven in a stroke intensified until she felt like she would split open. Her entire lower half throbbed and pulsated. Her hands crept downwards of their own accord. She felt like she couldn't stand it. If he just moved harder, faster, just a little bit more she would explode into a detonation that she wanted badly. She touched her own mound with one hand, feeling her downy curls there, working her way lower, her fingers wanting to provide just a little extra friction ... Knox caught her hands and pinned them to her sides, then swept downwards with his tongue in that same gentle, infuriating gli
de. She loved it and she couldn't stand it. She struggled in his grip but he was strong. She moaned, loving that he had her pinned, loving that she couldn't move an inch. Loved that he was going to drive her to the brink of absolute lunacy if he didn't give her just a little bit more pressure. Loved that he knew it and he didn't care. That was what he wanted.
Still holding her hands, Knox moved, climbing up her body until his mouth was at her ear, his breath hot against her, moving her hair enough to make it tickle her skin. "Oh no you don't. You can play with yourself later, but right now I'm going to tease your pretty pink pussy until you cry or beg. You're mine tonight, Rachel. I want you to come, but not yet."
He disappeared, leaving her head swimming with his words. She felt like she should be embarrassed but she wasn't. Instead she was on fire with desire. He—
Mica's phone buzzed again, pulling her out of the memory. She tore her eyes off of the back of Knox's head and stared at her phone, her eyes wide at the recollection and the response it had caused to flood through her body. She shifted her hips, feeling herself dripping wet suddenly.
She gritted her teeth and chided herself for her reaction to a simple memory. But that was exactly the problem. It wasn't simple. It was the hottest memory she possessed. Sometimes she dreamed about what Knox had done to her on the train, then had to get out her tiny purple vibrator and take care of herself before she went to work, otherwise she'd be thinking about sex all day. No other man had ever come close to creating that kind of a sexual cascade in her body.
And now the man himself was sitting in her living room, not eight feet from her. What would he do if she got up, walked over to him, straddled him, and demanded he give her a repeat performance?
Mica shook her head as her phone buzzed again. She needed to knock it off.
She picked up the phone.
Oh my God! You are dead!
You should have called the hunky hunk. He would have saved you. Seriously, answer me Mica before I get really scared!!!!!!!
Mica laughed to herself before firing off a reply, feeling bold and naughty all of a sudden.
The hunk is here. You interrupted us.
A dozen emoticons and about four thousand exclamation points flashed across her screen. Then another message.
Say no more. I'm on silent for the night. God knows you need a good lay. Send me pictures. Full frontal if you can.
Mica shook her head and laughed silently. Now the only problem would be getting Justin to believe that she'd been kidding.
She tilted her phone up a bit and took a picture of the back of Knox's head, then sent it to Justin.
I lied. He's here, but you interrupted nothing.
Girl, get over there and get on that or I'm coming over to take it from you.
Good luck sweetheart, he don't like dick.
Only cuz he ain't met me yet.
Mica snickered to herself. Justin always made her feel better. And made her feel carefree, like the girl she'd never been allowed to be. She texted him again.
Things going ok?
On fleek
Mica knew that meant good, since Justin said it every chance he got. He even tried to claim he had coined it until Mica looked it up and showed him the gif of the girl who really invented it. He had laughed for ten minutes, then told her he was proud of her for not falling for his bullshit.
Mica continued to banter with Justin for almost an hour, and their conversation eventually turned to work. She helped him work through a few final sticking points, becoming lost in her own focus. When Justin said he was on top of it and he'd talk to her later, she texted good-bye, then looked up from her phone to discover nothing had changed. Knox was still bent over his computers, oblivious that she even existed.
She was going to have to do something about that.
Chapter 10
Mica
Mica's stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten all day. Fear and activity had killed her appetite, but now she felt like she could eat just about anything.
She stood up and approached Knox slowly, feeling reluctant to interrupt his work, but unable to stand being in the same room as him without speaking anymore. As she walked around to the side of the table where he could see her, he stretched his neck and smiled at her.
"Dinner?" Mica asked, warmth spreading through her at the smile. It was the first one she'd gotten since he figured out who she really was.
"You offering?" Knox asked, his golden eyes pinning her in place.
"I could order takeout. There's a great chinese place close by."
"Chinese is good. Get me anything with meat in it," he said, then turned back to his computer.
Mica nodded and found the menu in a drawer in her kitchen, scouring over it. Anything with meat in it. Mica made her decision and called in the order, then sat back on the couch to wait for it. He'd have to stop working long enough to eat. On one of Knox's computer screens she could see the Brotherhood of Saints website, on the other, she saw what looked like a criminal database.
Twenty-five minutes later the buzzer at her door sounded. Mica tried to stand but Knox held out a silent hand to her. She sank back into the couch as he let the delivery man into the building, then stared at him through the peephole. She held up her credit card and tried to get his attention but he waved it away and pulled out his own wallet. Mica watched him pay the man and re-lock the door, then take the food to the table. She had wondered why he sat with his back to her earlier, but now as she saw him return to his chair she realized that it was so he was facing the door.
"Smells great," he said, dropping the two large bags on the table, then clearing a place on the table in front of him.
Mica agreed but her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth suddenly. She stood and walked to the table, her eyes on the food he was pulling out of the bags.
Mica sat and reached for a container. Beef broccoli. She pushed it towards Knox and tried the next one. Shrimp fried rice. She kept that one. She'd ordered two of everything, firmly believing Chinese food tasted best straight out of the tiny white box. She rubbed a pair of chopsticks between her hands until they cracked in half, then dug in, relishing the first tasty bite.
Knox either believed as she did, or was following her lead. He ripped apart his own chopsticks and sampled the beef broccoli then focused on an orange chicken container.
The air sat still and heavy between them, but Mica didn't care. She would care, once her belly was full. She ate half of her container of fried rice before anyone spoke.
"Did he catch you taking his money?" Knox asked, and Mica looked up in surprise. His gaze weighed heavily and she couldn't tell if there was judgment in it or not.
"He did." Mica took another bite and chewed carefully, then relayed everything else there was to tell, her food forgotten in front of her as she did so. She pushed it out quickly, without emotion, wanting to get past the past already.
"I had walked out of Bailey's room, but then had second thoughts, thinking if I took just a little bit more money I could get by a little longer wherever I ended up. I knew it was wrong, but I also knew I couldn't stick around and wait for him to sell my virginity to the highest bidder, no matter what I had to do to stop it. When I went back in for more money, he appeared suddenly and went crazy. He didn't hit me, but he tied me to a post in the basement while he made some changes to my room. He boarded up and barred the only window and put a heavy lock on the door. He took everything out of my room but the bed and my books. He didn't even leave me any clothes but what I had on. Then he put me in there, telling me things were going to be different from now on. I stayed in the room for two months. He let me out twice a day to use the bathroom, and brought me food once a day. No matter what I tried I couldn't break the board on the window, and when I tried to get out the door, he would laugh at me and tell me that my debt was only growing faster now that I couldn't cook or clean for him. He told me other things, horrible things that I don't want to repeat, but they worked on me like s
ome sort of inner sickness that twisted my brain and made me want to agree to anything he said if he would just let me out. I never went to school again after that day, and I remember praying someone would come look for me, but no one ever did. He must have told them I moved or something."
"I finally agreed," Mica said softly, her eyes on the table. "I told him I wanted to pay him back for everything and I would go see his friend and do whatever he wanted. He had taken the money he found in my hands that day, but I had shoved two-hundred and forty-two dollars into the toe of my shoe and I planned to use it to escape from him on the trip to the East Coast where his friend lived. I kept my shoes on even while I was sleeping, and kept that money in my shoe, since I didn't know when he planned to take me."
"Once I agreed he let me outside for an hour a day, but he always kept a close watch on me. He was twice my size and four times as strong. I didn't try to escape him. When it finally came time to leave for the train, he put some sort of a drug in my food. I could tell that he had because I started feeling light-headed almost immediately. The effects of the drug were strange, they made me feel very much like I didn't care what he did to me. I didn't care about anything. He gave me so much that I couldn't even walk, but he foresaw that. He had a wheelchair for me. In my drugged state I couldn't fight him, couldn't even talk back to him. He put me in the wheelchair and tied my arms to my chest, then put a shirt and a bib on me, then put a fancy-looking leather sash around me that tied my upper half to the chair so I didn't fall out. When we got to the train he kept calling me his handicapped daughter, and there was nothing I could do. I couldn't form coherent sentences to tell anyone what was really happening. The people on the train let us board first and we had a private room on the lower level of the train, a room built for a wheelchair. The first thing Bailey did when we got there was close the door, then pull me out of the chair and put a diaper on me. I was so drugged I couldn't even care that he was doing it."
