“You’re a very pretty girl, Cleo. Voight has enlightened me that you’re also a very single girl,” he rumbles. “That’s not the case exactly though, is it?” he asks.
Alarm bells ring in my head. Is this what Paxton was talking about? I start to panic, my breathing coming faster and faster.
“Don’t be scared. I actually wanted to know if you were single because I found you quite alluring, but I looked into you, and you’re married,” he grunts, narrowing his eye at me.
“My husband and I are estranged,” I whisper, trying my hardest to calm down.
“Then it would do me great honor if you would accompany me to dinner Friday evening,” he says with a flourish of his hand.
Honestly, I want to tell him no. Aside from the fact that he’s old enough to be my father, he scares the heck out of me. He’s meeting with a criminal defense attorney, which means he’s possibly done something very bad. I don’t need that.
I’ve got Paxton, who is obviously not hanging around at churches and helping nuns cross the street to get to mass on time. The last thing I need is another trouble making man in my midst.
“Sure, that sounds just lovely,” I say, hoping he’ll scurry on out of here so that I can call Lisandro and panic like the scardy cat that I am.
“I’ll pick you up around eight,” he murmurs. With a wink, he walks away from me.
I reach for my phone but then decide to sit down after he’s left.
“This is all a big coincidence. It’s not as if he’s the first client that’s ever asked me out. I can’t believe I let Pax get to me, and that I said yes to Mr. Garcia. This is all so silly,” I whisper to myself.
Mr. Voight walks in five minutes later, and I’m so busy throughout the day, even working through my lunch, that I don’t even think about calling Lisandro. I definitely don’t think about calling Paxton. It’s all just a silly coincidence, I decide.
Yeah.
That’s it.
A complete and total coincidence.
The parking lot is absolutely empty, save for my shitty maroon car, when it’s time for me to leave the office. I’m usually not this late, but there were some important court documents that had to be prepared tonight so that first thing in the morning Mr. Voight could send them out to be filed.
Now it’s late, really late, and I’m all alone in a deserted parking lot, in an area that is sparsely populated in the evenings. I fumble with my key, trying to hurry and get it into my lock, pissed off at myself for not having a car with automatic entry. Once the door is unlocked, I yank it open and slide inside of the driver’s seat, locking myself inside with a long exhale.
Starting my engine, I switch on my headlights and gasp. An expensive, black sedan is parked directly across the lot from me. The windows are too dark to see if there’s a shadow, indicating that there’s someone inside. Nevertheless, I get a foreboding feeling, as though I’m being watched. It sends a chill up my spine.
I decide to drive home. I should go somewhere else, in case this person is following me, but I don’t. Though, I keep my one eye on my rearview mirror and another on the road. It doesn’t appear as though the sedan is following me, but now I’m more than a little freaked out.
Now, I’m flat out scared.
Once I’m home, I turn on all of my lights, after locking myself inside, and I try to breathe. It’s time to call Lisandro.
“Did that fucker show up again?” he growls into the phone.
“Not tonight,” I whisper.
“Clee, what’s happened?” he asks, his voice dipping a little lower in obvious concern.
I take a deep breath and then I tell him everything. I tell him about The Cartel, Paxton’s warnings and then seeing that car, more than once.
“It’s all a coincidence, right?” I ask on a whisper.
“Theo and I will be there as soon as we can, pack a small bag, leave everything else in your place,” he says. I can hear rustling around.
“You’re overreacting,” I cry out.
“Nope. Paxton said some shit, and maybe it was just that—shit. But sweetie pie, he also mentioned a scary as shit group, and that they could know who you are; and for whatever crazy reasons, could try to get to him through you. Now, I’m not having that shit. I’m not going to let that crazy as hell group take you away from me. Not when I haven’t meddled in your life nearly enough to get you to be blissfully happy.”
“Lis, it’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t even know what I believe from Pax,” I say, shaking my head.
“Don’t care if it’s all bullshit, I’m not willing to take that chance,” he cries. A second later, Theo is on the line.
“He’s a Devil. That’s what you told Andro?” Theo asks, his voice deep.
“Yeah, that’s what he told me, and that’s what a patch on his vest said,” I confirm.
“That’s a motorcycle gang, Clee. Notorious Devils. They’re famous, and they’re dangerous as shit. He says The Cartel could be after you to get to him, then they probably are. We’re comin’ to get you.”
My phone goes dead, and I look down to see that he’s hung up on me. I glance around my crappy little apartment with wide eyes. Then I close them, wondering who on earth I’m married to.
Granted, I haven’t seen him in years; but when I married Paxton Hill, he was an active duty enlisted member of the Air Force. I didn’t know his exact job in the military, he never talked about it, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with motorcycle gangs.
Biting my bottom lip, I realize, not for the first time, that I didn’t know Paxton at all. He told me that he wasn’t close to his family and that was why he left Idaho and joined the military, but I don’t know why he wasn’t close to them.
He knows everything about my childhood—about how my parents died; how they weren’t really caring loving people, but they provided for me—then one day, they were just gone. House fire. Dad passed out drunk, and his cigarette fell onto the shag carpeting. Luckily, I’d been at school, so I survived. I went to live with Gram in Texas immediately after.
But I don’t know anything about my husband. I never did. He didn’t share a thing about his past or about his life. I would ask him, and he’d shrug off my questions and then change the subject.
I didn’t push him. I never pushed him. He was sweet and loving toward me, and I was enamored by him. I soaked up the attention he flourished onto me. I’d never had that before.
Then I agreed to marry him, giving him my virginity and thinking that finally, finally, I was going to have some grand adventure. That I was living a real-life fairy tale of sorts, the strong military man and his devoted wife waiting for him.
That is, until he burst my bubble, hurt me, and then crushed me as he walked out of the door and never even bothered to look back.
There’s a knock on my door , and I look through the peephole to see both Lisandro and Theo standing on the other side. I unlock it and yank it open before throwing myself into their waiting arms. They envelop me in their embrace, and I take in a deep breath.
“I was freaked out, and then I decided it was silly, and then I freaked out again,” I admit as they shuffle me inside of my apartment.
“You got your stuff?” Theo asks.
“Not yet,” I admit.
“Leave your purse and everything here. We’ll figure out that shit later. For now, it needs to look like you vanished. The Cartel, they’re dangerous. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this shit before. Whatever your ex has going on with them, the last thing you need to be is a pawn,” Theo rumbles.
“Paxton was warning me. He seemed concerned, but I didn’t think it was anything, not really,” I say lamely.
“That’s because you don’t know what he’s into, what this group is into. Now knowing a little, how are you feeling?”
“Terrified,” I whisper.
“Got her shit?” Theo asks above my head. I hadn’t even realized that Lisandro was gone. Turning around, I see he’s walking out of my
bedroom.
“A few things. We’ll go shopping. You need to update your pathetic existence of a wardrobe anyway, sweetie pie,” he grins, but I can see that it’s shaky, his lips trembling. He’s scared for me, too.
“My husband is an asshole,” I whisper, looking between my two friends.
“That’s not any news, but I do have to give him credit for at least trying to warn you,” Theo says.
“Whatever,” I snort.
Theo grabs my phone out of my hand and tosses it into my purse on the counter before wrapping his fingers around mine and tugging me to my front door.
I don’t think about the rent, what’ll happen to all my stuff when I don’t pay it, or anything. All I can think about is that my life has just been turned completely upside down. Once again, it’s Paxton’s fault.
Asshole.
I watch the skinny brunette ride me, her small tits bouncing as she fucks my cock. My mind should be on the way she’s working me, and she fuckin’ is, too. She’s giving me a beautiful show, but my thoughts are lost in all that is Cleo and her safety. She’s being stubborn, and it surprises the shit out of me. Granted, I don’t know the woman she’s become, but I knew the girl that she was pretty fuckin’ well. Stubborn was not a characteristic she carried.
“Torch—oh, fuck, you feel so good,” she moans above me.
Wish I could return the compliment, but truth be told, she feels adequate, at best. She’ll do, but she isn’t doing what I wanted her to, which was take my mind off of Cleo.
I reach over to the night stand and grab my bottle of tequila, bringing it to my lips before I take a long pull. She doesn’t even realize I’m not into this. My cock is hard because a warm pussy is enveloping it, but that’s friction and nothing else.
“I’m gonna—.”
I watch with nothing more than curiosity as she completely shatters around me. Her pussy pulses and she throws back her head as she lets out a squeak. I reach over to her boney ass and slap it hard, causing her to jerk and look down at me.
“Keep going,” I order.
Her eyes wide, she whispers, “But I came and I’m—.”
“I give a fuck that you came? Ride me until I come, bitch,” I grunt, taking another swig of liquor.
She doesn’t argue with me. I watch as she musters up her strength and starts to ride me, grinding down hard through the obvious discomfort. Maybe it was mean to tell her I didn’t give a fuck, but that’s not me trying to be mean, that’s me being honest.
“Torch,” she says, her voice trembling.
I take one last swig, setting my bottle to the side before I sit up and I maneuver her so that she’s on her back and I’m hovering above her. She reaches up and wraps her small hands on my shoulders.
“Want me to be still again?” she asks, biting her bottom lip. I thrust in and out of her wet cunt a few times before I lean down to whisper in her ear.
“Only way I’m gonna come is if I fuck your ass. You want that, I’ll take it; you don’t, then you need to send Serina in,” I say, suggesting she brings in another whore. She gasps and wrenches her head back.
“I’ve never…” I pull out and look down at her, leaning back on my knees.
“Well, either I pop that cherry or you go and get Serina,” I grunt.
I watch as she sits up and then crawls over to me, her hands skimming up my thighs, my stomach and chest. She presses her small tits against my chest and her lips brush my cheek.
“Any other way you want it, Torch, I’m yours,” she whispers as one of her hands wraps around my condom wrapped dick.
“Only way I want to fuck right now is in someone’s ass. Don’t give a fuck whose ass it is, honey,” I murmur.
“Don’t you like me?” she asks.
“I don’t know you,” I state. “Now you got about thirty seconds to either bend over or run out to Serina before I kick your ass out and get her myself.”
“If you wanted me, only me, I’d give that to you, baby,” she says with wide, pleading eyes.
I can’t help myself. I try not to, but I burst out laughing. She blanches and scrambles off of the bed. I reach out and wrap my hand around her bicep, holding her loosely and giving her a slight shake.
“Hate to break it to you, honey. If I wanted to take your ass right now, if I demanded it, I’d take it. There’s not a goddamn thing you could do about it. I could keep you for only me if I wanted that, too, but I don’t.”
Her eyes fill with tears and I let out a sigh as I release my hold of her arm. This is why I don’t like to let them stay in my bed. This is the exact reason I kick them out after I fuck them. Attachments. I don’t want her attached, and she’s gone and done that. Now she’s got her feelings hurt, and I’m the bastard.
“Go get Serina, yeah?” I urge softly.
She nods as she grabs her scraps of fabric and runs off. A few minutes later, my door opens and Serina is standing in the entrance, her naked flesh on display.
“You made her cry,” she frowns as she closes the door behind her.
I know Serina. She was at my old club in Idaho. She fucked up and they did a whore trade with a girl who fucked up here. She’s a good clubwhore; been around a while and knows her place, for the most part.
“Yeah,” I grunt, pulling out a bottle of lube from my cheap nightstand.
“When are you gonna learn, you can’t give those pretty blue eyes to the young ones. They’ll fall every time,” she purrs.
“Yeah, like you fell for Dirty, huh?” I ask on a chuckle. She had it bad for my brother, Dirty Johnny, caused problems with his Old Lady. That’s how her ass ended up right here.
“Hard lesson to learn, Torch,” she says with a flinch.
“Shut up and give me that little asshole, Serina. I’m ready to fill it up.”
“Yeah,” she moans as she positions her body for me to take.
Sinking inside of her ass doesn’t do what I thought it would. It doesn’t take away the thoughts of Cleo that invade my mind. She’s infiltrates my head the entire time. When I finally come, it’s lackluster, and I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. I fall back against the headboard and reach for my bottle, sucking the liquid back and hoping it will make thoughts of her go away, at least for the night.
“You can’t drink and fuck her away, Torch.”
“Get out,” I grunt.
I close my eyes and Cleo appears. Then, in an instant, she’s gone, and I’m back in hell, sinking my knife into the soft sandy dirt, hitting metal. A bomb. Then it happens, thirty feet in front of me—an explosion. I look up just in time to see my best friend flying through the air.
My eyes open as my heart starts pounding.
It takes me a good minute to realize that I’m not there. I’m on U.S. soil. In a clubhouse, my clubhouse, not the desert.
Fuck.
When will they stop?
I can’t shake her. Since my nightmares started, they haven’t stopped. I haven’t slept in three weeks, and I know that there is only one way to at least make them subside, if only for a while.
I need to make sure Cleo is okay. Her safety is the only thing I can control right now, and I’m tired of fucking around with her. She’s either coming with me tonight, or I’m going to be her goddamn shadow, and that means sleeping in her place, right next to her warm, curvy body.
With a semi-plan in place, I pull into the parking lot of her apartment and frown. It’s only four in the afternoon. Her car shouldn’t be here, yet it is. I make my way upstairs and knock on her door. I don’t have to strain my hearing too much, but I do anyway. I hear absolutely nothing. I decide to break into her apartment, my gut telling me something is very wrong here.
The sight that greets me makes my stomach drop. Sure, everything is in its place, but with one scan, I can see that it isn’t. Her purse is on the counter, her phone tossed on top of it. I close the door and call out her name, but silence is the only thing that greets me.
I jog into her bedroom and see t
hat her bed is unmade, clothes strewn on the floor; and a glance at her closet proves that all of her clothes are still hanging in their designated spots. I walk back into the kitchen, taking her phone and noticing that its dead. I plug it in and power it on, when I see, that she’s got a dozen missed calls. They’re all from the same number.
I don’t bother listening to the half a dozen messages. Instead, I call back the number.
“Voight,” a voice growls into the phone.
“You been trying to reach Cleo Hill?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Where is she?” he barks.
“Who is this?”
“This is Stephenson Voight, her boss. If you get ahold of her, tell her she’s fired,” he snaps before he ends the call.
My brows knit in confusion. She’s not at work, her shit’s here—her money and her car.
She’s gone.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She’s gone.
I don’t know how long she’s been gone. I haven’t been back to check on her in weeks. I needed to try and get my shit straight, try and give her time to get hers straight, too. She hasn’t called me, so I wasn’t overly worried. Now I know why she hasn’t called. She’s fucking gone.
I slam her front door closed and race down to my bike. It’s going to take me three hours to get back to the clubhouse. Maybe if I go fast enough, I can make it in two.
I focus on the highway and then the mountain roads ahead of me, pulling into the clubhouse two and a half hours later. I look around and realize that MadDog isn’t here. Pulling out my phone, I scroll to his name.
“What’s up, brother,” he grumbles.
“My wife’s gone missing,” I announce.
“You’re what?” he asks in surprise. I don’t blame him. Nobody knows I’m married, not even my brothers in Idaho.
“I’m going to need some more information, brother,” he says, his voice a low growl.
I tell him that I’ll be by his place in ten, and he agrees before ending the call. He’s just arrived back from Idaho with his woman, Mary-Anne, in tow. They’ve worked their shit out and I’m pleased as fuck for them, but my mind is on nothing but Cleo as I climb on my bike, revving the engine before I roll over to my prez’s house to tell him about my wife.
Rough & Ready (Notorious Devils Book 5) Page 5
