Very Bad Things

by Jenika Snow Sam Crescent

Was she in shock? She felt in shock. Actually, she felt horrified, relieved, and scared. She always felt scared. For once she’d like to not feel that.

  “They’re the worst kind of scum. They do not deserve your compassion or your guilt. They would have done motherfucking worse than that to you.” He gripped her chin tightly, on the verge of pain.

  Crying out, she tried to jerk out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “No, you will look at me. Keep your eyes on me, Fiona. Those men would have taken you against your will. Your pussy and ass would have been ripped apart before they graced you with death. You owe them nothing. The reason I don’t care is because they mean nothing.”

  “What about me?” she asked, croaking out the answer.

  “What?”

  “Do I mean something, or will I end up like them?”

  He gripped her arms hard, tugging her off the floor. Ryker forced her toward the kitchen sink.

  “You’re hurting me,” she said. The tears fell down her face hard. There was no stopping him. Ryker, like always, was the man in control, not her. He turned on the tap, grabbed some soap and started to clean her hands. Not once was his touch gentle. He made her hurt. “Ryker?”

  In response, he shot her a scowl, letting her know who was in control, and it wasn’t her.

  Her heart hammered inside her chest. The minutes that passed seemed to go unendingly. Ryker didn’t talk or even look at her. Her hands were clean and the skin shriveled from being under the water for a length of time.

  He didn’t stop. Turning off the water, he marched her back toward the bedroom. His silence scared her. Why wouldn’t he answer her?

  “Ryker?”

  She found herself sat on the bed. He gripped her chin in his hands.

  “If I didn’t care, Fiona, you’d be as dead as those men.” He got right up close to her face. “I want you to realize something. You’re the first, the only, woman I’ve left alive. There have been others who witnessed me kill lowlife fuckers, and I took them out. I’ve never, ever, left a scene with a witness. You’re the first person, and you’ll be the last person. I’m going back in that room to clean away the mess. When I’m done, you better have a goddamn fucking apology for me.”

  He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  She stared at the door confused.

  Did she mean something to him?

  Ryker had killed every other female that had been a witness. She was the only one he kept alive, but why? There was nothing special about her.

  The silence was filled with Ryker’s movements. There was no grunting, but the unmistakable sound of bodies being moved filled her senses.

  You’re part of this now.

  You helped to kill those men.

  Getting up from the bed, she moved toward the bathroom. She stared in the mirror, looking at her pale face.

  You’re as good as a killer. There’s no going back, only forward.

  She needed to make a choice and stick to it. The only thing she wanted was Ryker.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryker dropped Moe’s big fucking body in the bathroom, stared at Tricks that was haphazardly in the bathtub, and left the room. He walked over to the sink, washed the blood from his hands, and watched as the clear water was a now murky red tint. Bracing his hands on the sink he thought about the harshness of how he acted toward Fiona. He hadn’t needed to be so hard on her, but she was stupid for acting out, and throwing that kettle like it was going to stop the situation from escalating. Getting his cell out, he dialed the number that was only used in times like this, and waited for P to answer.

  “Yeah.” The husky, smoker’s voice came through.

  “I need a cleanup.”

  “Where?” P was the cleaner, the guy that others called when they needed shit cleaned up after everything got bloody.

  Ryker gave P the address to his cabin, and hung up. Looking at the door Fiona was behind, he wanted to go in there and hold her. She was alive, safe, and although he wanted to tell her that yes, he had saved her life, she had saved his, too. She had opened his eyes to these new emotions, that he wasn’t completely dead inside, and that he could feel alive.

  With her.

  Ryker turned off the water, walked out of the cabin, and headed to his other truck, as his primary truck was underground. He needed a smoke, and although he hadn’t had a cigarette in a long time, nicotine and a stiff drink would help a long way in getting his shit together.

  He opened the driver’s side door, grabbed his months old pack from the center console, and took out a lighter. After lighting the tip and inhaling deeply, he slipped the key in the ignition, and turned it until his radio kicked on. He turned on the music, clicked the stations until he found something that caught his attention, but the sound of a special news broadcast stopped him from changing it further. He looked at the kitchen window, saw that Fiona had come out of the room and was watching him. Was she contemplating how she could escape again? After all the shit that had been happening, and with the way he had spoken to her, he wouldn’t have blamed her. He knew she wanted him, just the same as he wanted her. Fiona was a smart and cunning woman, but she should already know that he wasn’t a man to give up on what he wanted. From this moment on he wanted to only worry about his life with her. The news started playing, and he waited until he heard what was so important that they had stopped programming on five different stations.

  “Authorities have just released information on a raid on what is being suspected as a human trafficking ring. Ten women ranging from the ages of sixteen to thirty have been rescued from an underground basement beneath the nightclub known as El Norte.”

  Although this was breaking news, Ryker wasn’t surprised that Trick’s little side job had been found out. But those women weren’t forced to be there, and in fact had searched out Tricks to make money selling their bodies.

  “The women refuse to speak, or are too afraid to say anything, as authorities have stated. Although no names have been officially released, suspicion has fallen on a local petty drug dealer and pimp as a possible suspect in questioning.”

  Ryker leaned against the side of the vehicle, looking at Fiona again, but she had since moved away from the window. They wouldn’t name Tricks right-out, but it didn’t matter now anyway because the asshole was dead.

  “The authorities are still continuing their search for the man in question, and if anyone has any you are urged to inform authorities immediately.”

  Ryker turned off the radio and took his keys out of the ignition. After snubbing out his cigarette, he slammed the truck door shut. He walked up the porch and into the cabin, and instantly trained his gaze on Fiona. She leaned against the counter, clenched her hands together in front of her, and stared at him a little nervously.

  She watched him with an unreadable expression. He walked over to her. Ryker grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, took out a couple of glasses, and moved over to stand beside her. Without speaking he poured the whiskey into both glasses and slid one over to her.

  “Go on. I’m sure you could use a drink as much as I need one right now.” He didn’t look at her as he drank the whiskey, and when he set the glass on the counter and refilled it he noticed she had yet to touch hers. “Drink, Fiona, because I know you need it after the crazy fucking shit that had happened.” He tossed back his second drink, and watched as she finally picked up her glass and drank it. After she finished it her face turned red, she gagged and coughed, and he actually started chuckling.

  She eyed him with distaste, set the glass down, and then went to get water. “So not funny.” She guzzled a glass of water, wiped her mouth, and then shook her head. “Not to mention totally early in the morning for that.” She glanced at the ground, at the nasty fucking blood trail that led into the bathroom, and then swallowed.

  “Don’t look at the blood,” he said and grabbed the whisky. Ryker took a swig right from the bottle.

  “Kind of hard not to,”
she said under her breath. “We have to clean this up, I suppose?” she looked at him, a little disgusted.

  “No, I have someone coming to clean it up, but we need to leave, because P doesn’t work with others around.”

  She didn’t respond to what he said, but he could see on her face that she knew exactly what he was referring to.

  “You’ll make me go with you.” She stated it without question.

  He cupped her cheek, tilted her head up so she was looking right at him, and said softly, “You’re mine, Fiona. You go where I go, and if you want to live and be safe you’ll do what I say.” He didn’t say it coldly, but meant every word that he said because it was the truth. “I saved your life, and you saved mine.”

  Her eyes widened, and then he leaned in and kissed her hard, possessively, and told her without words that she was his, and he wasn’t going to give her up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fiona sat beside Ryker as he started to drive away from the cabin. No one had turned up yet while they were leaving. He’d not taken anything other than a selected handful of clothes. She wore a pair of his sweats and a shirt. They were covered in his scent.

  “Should you be driving?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “You drank.”

  “A couple of shots of whiskey won’t impair my ability to drive.”

  “Okay.” She rubbed her hands down her thighs, wondering what else to talk about. The silence unnerved her. She didn’t like the silence or how closed off he’d become around her.

  She tapped her leg.

  “What’s bothering you?” he asked, glancing toward her.

  “Nothing.”

  “Talk, Fiona. I don’t mind if you need to talk.”

  “Where are we headed?”

  “To one of my places.”

  He was vague. This was her future as much as it was hers.

  “Do you have a lot of places?”

  “I’m a killer. I need a lot of places.”

  Blowing out a breath, she stared out of the window. “Forget about it.”

  She wasn’t in the mood to try to make conversation with him if he wasn’t interested in talking with her. What else was there to think about? All she saw in her mind was the disgusting look on Tricks’s face as he looked at her. He was a vulgar bastard. The worst of the worst and she wanted nothing to do with him.

  He’s dead.

  Great, she was thinking about a dead man.

  “I’m used to being alone,” Ryker said.

  She turned to look at the man who’d entered her life and turned it upside down. “What?” She saw his knuckles were white as he clenched the steering wheel of the car.

  “I work alone. I didn’t have anyone growing up. I learned to take care of myself.” He spoke quietly, softly. She didn’t rush him along even though she wanted to. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever cared about. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she said.

  He jerked the car to a stop at the side of the road. She looked behind them to see cars moving around them. “Do you think I don’t know our situation? We’re fucked up. It’s crazy, insane, and fucking stupid, but I can’t lose you. We’re going somewhere safe and quiet. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Okay.”

  “You can talk to me.”

  “We killed two men.”

  “No, I killed those men. You didn’t do anything.” He cupped her cheek. “Do not let their deaths hurt you. They do not deserve it. I meant what I said back in the cabin, they’re not worth your care.”

  He turned his attention back to the road.

  Fiona thought about what to say to him.

  “What happened to your family?” he asked.

  She frowned. “I told you about my family. It wasn’t a lie.”

  “You’ve not been hurt at a young age or abandoned. When you lost your family, you were old enough to understand why.”

  “My family died in a plane crash. It wasn’t exactly hard to understand. They died. I didn’t.” She’d told him this already. Was he only bringing it up again to distract her?

  “I’m sorry to hear about that.”

  “Don’t be. You weren’t responsible for the weather that they hit.” She looked out of the window.

  “You’re not crying.”

  “It has been a long time. I’ve cried enough tears for them. Life sucks at times, but like you said, there are people who are in a far worse state than me.” She missed her family all the time. There was nothing for her to do to bring them back.

  He stayed silent for the remainder of the drive. Fiona gave up reading the road signs. She didn’t have a clue where they were, and she didn’t really care. Her old life was gone. She wouldn’t be waiting tables or worrying about paying bills. Her life was in Ryker’s hands.

  Ryker pulled up outside an apartment block. It didn’t look upscale or rundown but somewhere between the two. She didn’t question him as he climbed out of the car. Fiona did the same, following him up to the front steps. He held a key, opening up the door.

  It was now dark and silent outside.

  Everything he did seemed so natural as she stood with him while he grabbed his mail. Was this the place he stayed at in between killing people?

  “Come on.” He grabbed her hand, locking their fingers as he made his way over to the elevator.

  “This seems so normal,” she said.

  “It is normal. I don’t do bad shit all the time.”

  She went to open her mouth to say something else. Ryker pressed her up against the corner of the elevator cart. He pushed her hands above her head, holding her in place.

  “Stop talking.” His lips were on hers seconds later, silencing all questions from her. She opened up to his invading tongue, moaning as one of his thighs slid between hers. All other thought left her mind as pleasure overtook everything else. She kissed him back, never wanting the pleasure to end.

  One of his hands held both of hers as his other traveled down her body, stroking her nipple, then down to cup her ass.

  She gasped, feeling the hard press of his cock.

  “When we get to our apartment I want to fuck you. Do you have a problem with that?” he asked.

  Given the size of his cock pressing against her stomach, she didn’t have a problem with him wanting her.

  “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’re in agreement?”

  “Yes.”

  Right now she’d sell him her soul providing he didn’t stop giving her pleasure. She wanted him so damn badly.

  “Good.”

  The elevator pinged. He kept hold of her hand. They made their way past the other apartment doors. Ryker slid the key into the lock, opening the door. Once the door was closed, he started to tear at her clothing. She clawed at his clothing. The letters he’d been holding, even as he held her hands above her head, fell to the floor around them.

  “I need to be inside of your tight cunt. It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day,” he said.

  She cried out as his teeth found her nipple, sucking and biting at the tip.

  His other hand gripped her ass still covered by the sweats she wore. The way he held her, she knew she would have bruises in the places he touched. Ryker wasn’t gentle. He was hard and made sure every part of her was touched.

  She sank her fingers in his hair, tugging on the length. He released her breast with a pop.

  He turned on the light, and she saw the arousal on his face. Their time together wouldn’t be gentle. From the heat in his eyes, the hardness of his touch, he was going to make it hurt and make it feel good all at the same time. She didn’t know which one she was looking forward to more, the pain or pleasure.

  “I’m going to give you one chance, Fiona.”

  “A chance to what?” Heat spilled from her pussy.

  “You can walk out that door and I’ll never come looking for
you. After this moment, all bets are off. I will let you go now.”

  Fiona glanced behind her at the door. If she left him now all she had to look forward to was a life of fear and boredom. Ryker was a killer, but she wanted him. It was the easiest decision she’d ever made in her life. Stepping closer, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Are you going to make it hurt?” she asked.

  This was what she wanted. She wanted the devil, not hell.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I’ll only make it hurt if you ask me, baby,” Ryker said, and then he looked at her mouth. The fact she needed him this badly, too, took his common sense away. He hauled her to him and slanted his lips on hers. The taste of her exploded along his tongue, like honey and vanilla and everything that was good … everything he wasn’t used to in his fucked up life. He cupped her ass and squeezed the mounds. Ryker couldn’t help himself from grinding his cock into her belly.

  Fiona moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, loving that it was because of him that she was making those sexy little noises. Wrenching away from her, he tore at her clothes until tatters of material fluttered around her body and landed at her feet. She now stood in nothing at all, and his cock jerked fiercely against his zipper. Ryker slipped his fingers along her collarbones. The creamy swells of her breasts rose and fell from her breathing. Cupping a full mound, he massaged the globe. The sounds that came from her were needy and had him impatient for more. He wanted inside of her, wanted his cum filling her up and marking her as his.

  Taking her waist in his hands, he moved her over to the couch, spun her around, and pressed her upper body forward with a palm to the middle of her back. The sight of her bent over, balancing on her toes, her ass high in the air, had him fumbling like a damn teenager to free his cock. When he finally took his shaft out, he stroked himself a few times and let his eyes zero in on her ass. It was round and full, perfect for fucking, which was what he wanted, so damn bad. Last night wasn’t enough for him. He’d never get enough of her. Smoothing his hand on one cheek, he bent forward until he felt his cock press in the crease between those big fucking mounds.