by Riley, Alexa
TAKING THE FALL
Vol. 2
Alexa Riley
Copyright ©2015 Alexa Riley
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact [email protected]
http://alexariley.com/
Cover design : © L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations
Formatting by L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations
This book is dedicated to my best girl, Jeanette. She's tough as nails, doesn't take shit, but has the biggest heart of anyone I know. Let's never break up... I'd miss the food talk the most.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Sneak Peek at Taking the Fall Vol 3
Prologue
CARTER
I put the picture on her bedside table and I stare down at her naked body, not wanting to leave. Every cell in my body is pulling me back to bed with her but I have to ignore it. I sit on the edge of the bed and allow myself two more minutes. I’ve waited eight years to be this close to her. I just need two more minutes before we’re separated again.
I lightly stroke her cheek and she leans into my touch. She smiles a little and I can only hope she’s dreaming of me.
The only thing that could take me away from her is protecting her. I didn’t lie to her – she’s safe and she’s free. I’m out and she won’t ever have to worry again, but I’m going to find her father and make him pay for everything he did to her. I told her I’ll be back and I just hope she doesn’t hate me for leaving like this. If she looked me in the eyes and asked me to stay, I would. So I’m taking the easy way out because I can’t risk someone coming after her again.
My soul aches as I stand up and step away from the bed. I turn around and let myself have one last look at her before I close the door.
“Wait for me, baby,” I whisper. And then I’m gone.
LAYLA
Three months later
“I said get your nasty fucking cunt out of my face before I lose my temper,” I growl. I have a pounding headache and this shit isn’t helping.
“Oh come on, Daddy, don’t be like that. I can feel you’ve got a big pole in there you’d like me to dance on. Let me take you in the back, no extra charge.” The stripper grinds on my limp cock and winks over her shoulder at me. Like that’s what it’s going to take to get me to fuck her. She eyed me up the second I walked in this place. She’s been rubbing all over me and it’s taking all my strength not to stand up and put her on her ass. Fake tits and bleached-out hair might do it for some guys, but my cock only gets hard for one woman, and this one ain’t her.
I used to love places like this. I could roll in, have a few drinks with the boys, and avail of some free, no-strings, easy pussy. Now my cock only wants Layla. The damn thing has only wanted her since I laid eyes on her nine years ago. It pisses me off that this stripper thinks she can have something that isn’t hers. Who am I kidding, though; I’m not even sure if it’s mine anymore.
The only reason I let her get this close is because I don’t want to draw attention. I’m trying to blend in, which is hard for someone who is as big as I am, but I can’t let this chick think she’s getting anything from me. I’m not sure what she thinks I could do with her anyway – she’s a fucking twig, and I’d probably break her in half. It only makes me miss my Cherry more, with her luscious curves that fill my hands. I swear my girl’s skin is as soft as rose petals and as pure as snow. I love that she’s only been touched by me.
Catching a whiff of the stripper’s perfume, I’m pulled from my thoughts of Cherry, which only pisses me off.
“Listen up, Diamond, Mercedes, Daffodil, or whatever name it is you go by. If I have to tell you one more time to go away, I’m gonna put a gag in your mouth, handcuff you to the stage, and tell everyone in here there’s a seven-dollar hooker looking for a train ride. You feel that?”
Immediately, she stands up and walks towards the bar. “Asshole,” she mumbles and it’s all I can do to stay in my chair.
I take another sip of my club soda and go back to “watching” the stage. I’ve been waiting for over an hour for my informant to show up. Add to that I still haven’t gotten my daily report from Saint, and I’m in a terrible fucking mood. I feel like a junkie waiting for his next fix, my fix of Cherry. Three months I’ve been away from her. Three fucking months. Hell, I did eight years in the pen, three months should be nothing. But after having her, tasting her, I’ve only made my obsession worse. Sometimes I feel myself slipping into a dark place, doing what I’ve been doing these last few months, and then I think of her. It’s like she’s my talisman. She tames the beast I can turn into with just a thought of her.
Every night I lay in bed, stroking my cock to thoughts of her, thinking of her wild red hair spread out across the bed while she lets me take what’s mine. I thought jacking off to her before I had her was good, but actually having her made it a thousand times better. Now I know the taste of her pussy when I make her come in my mouth, the feel of her tight little cunt gripping onto me when she comes with my cock. Fuck, after being in a strip club for an hour my cock finally goes hard but only because I’m thinking about her.
Adjusting myself I look up and finally see Frankie walking in the door. He makes his way over to my table and he’s got a big greasy smile on his face. He looks like fucking shit. He’s probably using again. These guys never learn. I never got how bosses would let their men run around all strung out. It makes for sloppy work and sloppy work lands your ass dead or doing twenty-five to life.
“You got the information I need?” I grunt, getting right to the point. It’s not my problem he’s using. In fact, he can fucking drop dead for all I care, but only after I get the info I need.
“Sorry, boss, I tried my best but…”
I don’t let him finish. First off I’m not his fucking boss. No way I’d have left a little weasel piss ant like that on one of my crews. Standing, I drop five bills on the table to ensure no one calls the cops on me, and then I grab him by the throat, pick him up off the ground with one arm and walk him outside.
There’s an alley out back and I plan on taking my frustrations out on this snitch. A nice ass-beating may help pull me back from this edge I feel like I’m on at the moment.
Glancing around the alley to make sure it’s all clear, I drop him to the ground and kick his side. I’m pretty sure I feel a rib crack. “The only thing I needed from you was a location, and you couldn’t give me that. Who the fuck are you really working for, Frankie?” No way he doesn’t have something for me. If that was the case he wouldn’t have showed. So someone else must have made him.
I kick him a few more times before he feels like talking.
“I was told to keep you on the chase. I swear that’s all I know,” he coughs out.
There it is. Never takes much for men like him to crack. Another thing I don’t get about these bosses. Never have a man on your crew who can’t take a
good old beating. Just makes them an easy mark. “Who told you that?” I ask and reach down to pick him up. I haul his double-crossing ass off the ground and throw him against the wall, hearing his head give a hard crack against the brick wall. Before he falls I grab his chest and keep him held there. “I’m at the short end of my fuse, Frankie, and you’ll do well to remember what happens when I don’t get what I want. You think I don’t know you’re Richie’s cousin? Yeah, I took that motherfucker out fast after he betrayed me. You wanna learn from his example or repeat his mistake? Your call,” I toss out letting him know I’m okay with either outcome.
He struggles for breath, trying to fill his lungs around some presumably broken ribs. I use the hand that’s not holding him against the wall to punch the places I kicked. He spits up some blood, but he is finally trying to talk.
“Okay, okay, okay. O’Leary sent me. He knows you’re looking for him, and he knows why.” I loosen the grip on his chest and let him breathe a little easier. Just hearing his name makes my blood boil. “He heard you got out, and he’s been further underground ever since. I never even saw him. Just used burner phones for texts. Carter, man, you gotta believe me. He’s got a hold of my family. I had to do it.” He’s crying now and I try not to roll my eyes.
“Today’s your lucky day, Frankie. I’m gonna let you live long enough to tell him payback’s coming. You do what you gotta do to contact him, but when that happens, you tell him he better be ready. Hell’s coming.” I drop Frankie to the ground and walk away.
It’s night out and as I walk to my car I look at my phone to see if I’ve gotten my daily text from Saint. He’s late with his update and it’s pissing me off. He fucking knows better than to keep me waiting when it comes to her. He hasn’t ever been late before and I’ve got a sick feeling in my stomach that something is wrong.
When I check the screen it shows I’ve got a missed call from his number. I’m guessing Frankie was bleeding too loud for me to hear it ring.
I call it back immediately and he answers on the first ring. I’m already yelling at him when I hear it connect, “About fucking time you called me, I was…”
Saint cuts me off with the sentence I’ve been both waiting for and dreading to hear, “Carter. Get here. Now.”
LAYLA
“Think he knows?” I ask, trying to adjust to a more comfortable position in this damn hospital bed. It’s like they try to make them as uncomfortable as possible.
Jeanette nods her head and takes a sip of her coffee. “Yeah, I saw Saint in the hall when I was talking to the cops.”
Then Carter must know. It’s all I can think of. I wonder if he’ll come. Probably not. I’m sure Saint told him he’d knocked me up over a month ago, and if that didn’t bring him back, some stupid car accident won’t. Why would he care that I’m laid up in a hospital bed when he doesn’t even care that I’m having his baby. I’m ashamed that I had this ridiculous fantasy of him storming into the hospital room, picking me up and begging me to let him back into my life. He’d tell me we’d be a perfect family and he’d never leave me again. My daydreams are even more ridiculous because I don’t think Carter has ever begged for anything in his life.
“Did he say anything to you?” I ask.
“Nope. I just flipped him the bird so I think he got the message.”
I’m not sure who Jeanette’s trying to convince. We all know Saint hasn’t gotten the message. He hasn’t gotten it for the last month. He’s been trying and failing to get close to Jeanette again. Taking off her jacket and opening her purse, she starts freshening up her make-up and I know I’m more than likely in for a show: the Jeanette and Saint show.
“Your doctor is smoking hot, don’t you think?” she offers while applying some lip gloss.
I know what she’s doing. I actually get it. She’s trying to pretend that she isn’t doing this for him, because she hates him. No one understands that more than I do.
“I wasn’t paying much attention really, but’s he all yours,” I say, wondering if she’ll really make a play for him. For the past month she’s been dressing in the most provocative clothes she can find. She does her hair and make-up and then waits for Saint to show up, and he always shows up. On top of that, she’s been flirting with every guy within reach. Normally it leads to a giant fight that results in both Jeanette and Saint storming off.
“I just want to get out of here. This bed is hurting my ass,” I complain, wanting the nurse to hurry up with my discharge papers. These clinical blue walls are killing my eyes. All I really had was a bump on my head, so I was reluctant to go to the hospital at first but I wanted to make sure the baby was okay. I didn’t want to take the slightest risk so early in my pregnancy. The doctor said both the baby and I were fine. I hit my head on my steering wheel when I ran into a pole. Thank God I wasn’t going any faster when my brakes went out. I just have a bump that will probably turn a pretty purple by tomorrow.
Leaning over me, Jeanette pushes the call button to get someone to come to our room. Instead, a voice comes over the speaker
“Miss Matthews, what can I do for you?”
“She wants out of here is what you can do for her. You said you were doing the papers over an hour ago,” Jeanette says in the same no-bullshit tone she gives kids at library when they’re acting out.
“Just five more minutes and you’ll be on your way,” the nurse soothes before dropping the line.
“Ask and you shall receive, Lays,” Jeanette says graciously and starts to get all my stuff together.
“Do you think it’s weird that my brakes went out and my air bag didn’t go off?” I’ve been thinking this since the cops starting asking questions. I hate being scared. I thought I was passed that now.
“With Saint popping up everywhere like a fucking jack-in-the-box, I think you’re fine,” she responds and I’m not sure if she’s telling me the truth or trying to keep me calm. “Hey, I’ll stay with you if you like. We can have a little slumber party.”
“Nah, I just want to soak in a bath, maybe play the piano a little and then go to bed,” I reply. In truth I would love her to stay. I’ve felt so lonely since Carter left, which is insane because I only had him for one night. I’ve basically been alone my whole life, so I should be used to it. At night I keep dreaming about our time together. I’m pretty sure my pregnancy hormones are making it seem better than it really was. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Layla. It was incredible.
I can see her studying me and I’m relieved when the nurse and doctor walk in before she can say something.
“Alrighty, Miss. Matthews, it looks like you’re good to go, but I did call and leave a message with your OBGYN and told them you’d be calling to make a follow-up appointment. If you need anything before then, feel free to give me a call.”
“Do you have a card or something?” Jeanette asks the attractive middle-aged doctor. Jeanette said he was hot, and while he’s easy on the eyes, he really isn’t her type. At all. She gravitates towards the dark, dangerous ones that look like they could snap you like a brittle twig. The doctor is handsome in more of a feminine kind of way. He’s got dark-blond hair that looks like it’s been carefully styled. He’s wearing his hospital scrubs and coat, but they are crisply pressed and obsessively neat. He and Jeanette would look like Ken and Barbie beside each other but I don’t think it’s meant to be. He’s too perfectly tailored for her.
“Sure,” he says, pulling a card out of his front pocket and trying to hand it to me. Before I can take it, Jeanette swipes from his hand.
“Mind if I use it?” she purrs coquettishly, giving him a look that has most men eating out of her hand. Between her looks and her boldness, I’ve never seen a man she couldn’t have by the balls.
“Anyti–” the doc is cut off by a loud growl and I know it’s Saint without having to look. He marches over and snatches the card from her hand.
“You’ll make the doc really fucking happy he’s already in the hospital you don’t knock that shit
off,” Saint snarls and puts the card in his own pocket.
The doctor gives Saint a look of disdain before shaking his head and leaving the room, telling the nurse to discharge me. It’s probably wise he didn’t comment.
“Jerk! I’m never going to get laid with you stalking around. A woman has needs you know,” Jeanette snaps at him.
“Mama, you got needs? I’ve got a mouth and a cock right here to fulfill them. You’re going to get someone killed,” Saint barks, running his hands through his hair as if to calm himself down.
“What part of ‘drop dead’ aren’t you getting, Saint?” Jeanette asks.
“The part where every time you say it, your nipples get hard and I know for a fact your pussy is wet for me. If we weren’t in a hospital right now and if I didn’t have shit to do, I would show you.”
“Fuck off,” she responds and turns to me, dismissing him. She must be pretty pissed because normally she likes to go toe to toe with him for a good fifteen minutes.
“You ready?” she asks.
I’m still watching Saint because I don’t care how mad she is at him, that was still pretty freaking hot. I’m surprised she hasn’t cracked yet. I’m still pissed at the guy but there’s just something about him that makes you like him. He’s scary as shit when he wants to be, but he’s always quick to crack a joke or try to lighten the mood. But although he and Carter differ in that sense, they’re too alike for it not to hurt to be around Saint.
“Yeah, just give me a sec,” I say. I slip into the bathroom and change out of my hospital gown.
When I come out, Saint is alone and leaning up against the door.
“Sorry, I might have said some shit and she left. I told her I was taking you home and it was non-negotiable.” I can see the sorrow in his eyes. It makes me envious. Saint is here and trying like hell to get Jeanette to take him back. Must be nice to have someone fight to be with you.
