Crazy Kate’s had started as a joke four years ago by Kate French, a human, and a lawyer, when the event occurred. She’d lost her husband and her parents during the invasion. Left to raise her eight year old daughter alone, she’d given herself to City.
Crazy Kate’s had started as a small coffee house. Kate could run it while keeping an eye on her daughter. She had help from another local mum, a baker by trade, and when they added cakes and pastries to the menu the business took off. It became a place where humans and settlers could mingle without any barriers. Crazy Kate’s was a safe zone and it was here that Garret was sure he would find the information he was looking for.
Garret entered to the smell of freshly ground coffee and cinnamon. It made his mouth water and his head spin. The coffee house was a cosy space filled with small round coffee tables and squishy seats. The counter ran across the back and four members of staff worked to make sure everyone had the beverage they wanted. Round back was where information was exchanged and that’s where he headed.
Clarice, one of he serving girls, looked up from the espresso machine. He inclined his head and she reached down to press a hidden buzzer.
He entered the back room, only half full, mainly with settlers, and slipped onto an empty sofa.
Clarice appeared a moment later with a huge mocha and a smile. “She’ll be down in a moment.”
“Has Hemway been in recently?”
She shook her head looking worried. “I haven’t seen him for almost two weeks. He usually pops in two, three times a week. Kate’s beginning to worry.”
Garret nodded and sipped his mocha and Clarice retreated back to the front of the shop.
A moment later he was joined by Kate. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright. She picked up his mug and carried it toward the door which led upstairs to her apartments. Garret frowned. Okay, this was new.
He followed her through the door and up the winding steps, onto a landing and through another door into her apartments.
She shut the door behind him and handed him back his mocha.
“You need to take her with you,” she said.
“What?”
“Hannah, you need to get her out of here.”
Garret looked for somewhere to put his mocha. Kate was shaking. He needed to do something, comfort her or something. He spotted a table and moved around her to put the mug down.
He cupped Kate’s shoulders. “Okay, calm down and start at the beginning.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes, of course. Okay, well one of the settler males at the leisure centre where Hannah works has been taking an interest in her. She told me about him a while back. She said he made her feel uncomfortable. I told her to ask for a change in her work assignment, but she loves her job and decided to stick it out. Anyway, yesterday he asked her to be his pet.”
Okay, that was not good. “What did she say?”
“She told him to give her a couple of days to think about it.”
“Smart girl.” If she’d said no straight up he would have taken her by force. This way she was allowing him to think she was amenable to the idea. Being a settler pet wasn’t all bad if you liked your master, if you wanted to be his sex object, or if, like some disillusioned fools, you were in love with one of them. The civilian settlers on the whole were alright, grateful for survival and guilty for what their leaders had done, but the enforcers, the officials, they seemed to be made of a different mettle and their numbers were almost as large as their civilian population. It was a strange dynamic and it worried Garret.
Kate was watching him, dark eyes filled with concern. “You don’t understand, she’s not being smart, she’s actually considering it.”
Ah, well that was different. “Kate, if she wants this then there’s nothing we can do.”
Kate stepped back, her face crumpling. “You have to do something. You have to make her go with you.”
She was a step away from breaking down and there was nothing he could do. If Hannah liked this guy, if she really wanted this, then it was a done deal. On the other hand, if she was doing this because she believed she had no choice then he would give her a choice.
“I’ll speak to her later. Kate, I promise you I’ll give her a choice. If she wants to come with me I’ll get her out of City, but you know they’ll come after you. If this settler wants Hannah enough to approach her about belonging to him, then he won’t just let her go. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they seem to be very single-minded once they become attached.”
Like Viola, yeah, he needed to cut ties there sooner rather than later.
“I can take care of myself. There’s no law saying we can’t leave.”
“No, but to leave officially she’d need a leave card and we know she won’t get one, especially if one of them wants her.”
“I don’t care. Just convince her to leave, please.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She nodded and then reached into her apron pocket and handed him an envelope. “Hemway dropped this off a couple of weeks ago. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Thanks.” He tore open the envelope and pulled out the folded piece of paper inside. It was covered in numbers and squiggles.
Their personal code.
Garret scanned it carefully then slid it into his trouser pocket. “Thank you, Kate, for everything. I’ll speak to Hannah. If she’s not home later, you know she’s with me.”
Kate nodded gratefully.
He left her to her anxiety and made his way out of the building and back onto the streets. He needed to make an important stop before he spoke to Hannah, and then he needed to get out of City because if what Hemway suspected was true, then Rubble Town was in danger.
So was Star.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryder hammered the metal with no shape or design in mind. It was purely release, purely distraction. Her eyes, the way she had looked at him when he’d told her his story, the feel of her skin so soft when he’d held her hand, it was too much. She wanted to save him, teach him to control the rage inside. She had no idea. He’d tried, he’d fucking tried so hard, and each time the failure had stung more than the first. His way was the only way and yet he couldn’t bring himself to deny her. The hope in her eyes, the confidence…he had to admit it had ignited something warm in his chest—a possibility. But now, away from her, in his workroom surrounded by his tools and inanimate creations, reality crept back in. She couldn’t save him, and he’d end up disappointing her, hurting her.
He was a dangerous menace and letting her get under his skin was a terrible idea. He needed to focus. Fight and lose, but save Midge. That was it.
He set down his hammer. His heartbeat was steady, his face calm. He turned and strode back into the living quarters, his decision made.
The room was empty. Panic fisted his heart and then he shook it off. She’d changed her mind, gone home. So what? Disappointment replaced panic, and he told himself it was because he’d been denied the opportunity to tell her about the change of plan.
Then he saw the note.
She’d tucked it under a paperweight and scrawled it on a tissue.
Gone Under to find Terry
B Back soon
He stared at the note, incredulous, but the words didn’t change and shift, didn’t suddenly read ‘gone home to tuck myself safely into bed’, or ‘you were right, I’m an idiot’.
The Under was dirty, dangerous. The Under could get you killed. What happened in the Under stayed in the Under, and he remembered what had happened to her on her last visit.
He was already out the door and barrelling after her.
Chapter Nineteen
The door guard hadn’t even batted an eyelid at her this time.
She was getting good at this.
Star had scraped back her hair into a messy knot at the base of her skull and her joggers and T-shirt didn’t make her stand out, which was good because she was beginning to think she was the only female here.
>
There was another one; a micro mini, boob-tubed thing getting fucked from behind up against the tunnel wall.
She turned away, climbed the ramp onto the fighter platform and headed for the arena. She passed Ned who shot her a worried look. He waved her over, but she held up a finger mouthing ‘be right back’ and moved toward the thick crowd surrounding the arena. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. She was about to enter the crowd when a hand grabbed her elbow and tugged her back, another hand covered her mouth and then she was being hauled away from all the people, down an unused tunnel and into the darkness. She kicked and tried to bite, but his grip was too strong, mashing her lips up against her teeth so hard she could barely breathe.
Hammering heart trying to burst from her chest, fingers clawing at his forearm, she froze as he whispered in her ear.
“I’m going to fuck you, beat you, and then fuck you again.”
Her eyes widened, she knew that voice.
The dead eyed man.
Fuck, she had to think, to calm down quickly and act.
He pushed her up against the wall, tearing at her joggers to pull them down. Micro mini woman came to mind and then flew back out again, replaced by icy fear. He had the joggers down. Oh god, there was no leverage to buck him off. He was too strong. Tears of anger and frustration pricked her eyes. This could not be happening! With the beating Ryder had given him surely he should still be incapacitated?
If only she’d brought Ryder, but no, she’d been high on her own self importance, over-confident and now Dead Eyes tore at her knickers, his breath hot on her neck and then his tongue, warm and wet, lathed the side of her face, mouth sucked on her shoulder.
A mewling sound echoed in the tunnel. She wondered what it was and then realised it was coming from her. She screamed as he bit her.
A roar filled the air behind them and then she was mashed up against the wall, her face stinging from the sharp scrape and then, just as abruptly, she was free. She slumped to the ground, then jumped back up, pulling up her joggers and watched as Ryder buried his fist into Dead Eyes face with satisfying meaty thuds. Star swallowed, pulled herself to her full five-five and then jumped into the fray. Kicking and kicking and kicking until Dead Eyes fell still. She fell back exhausted, but Ryder didn’t stop. He bashed and bashed and the crack of bone echoed against the tunnel walls. He punched and punched and the blows became muted and squishy.
She could hear the sound of rioting, screams and fists and curses.
This was what he had meant. He’d lost control. He’d lost it for her.
She reached for him, fingers brushing his shoulder. She had to stop him, he needed to calm down.
“Ryder? Ryder, stop, please. It’s okay, it’s over.”
A sharp pain lanced up her arm. He shuddered, the punches slowed until, finally, they stopped all together.
He remained on the ground astride the dead body, shoulders rising and falling, chest heaving and then he stood and turned to face her.
She flinched at the raw emotion in that face, a face which, as long as she’d known it, had alternated between impassive and inquisitive.
“Ryder…” She held up her hand, not knowing the words to use to convey her gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
They walked away through a riot that was winding down, and smack bang into the very man they’d been searching for.
Terry’s gaze flickered from Ryder to Star. “Come see me in the morning at the library.” He turned and vanished into the sea of bodies.
Star scrubbed at her skin, at the bite mark on her shoulder, red and raw. She scrubbed, ignoring the sting. She needed to wash it away, the whole experience, forget it had happened, as if it had never happened, but she could still feel the pressure of his fingers on her mouth, the scrape of blunt nails on her back, her buttocks. Her chest heaved, once, twice, and then the sobs she had been holding back exploded in huge gulps of air. She was almost raped. If Ryder hadn’t followed her, if he hadn’t followed her…oh god. The bottom of the tub was safe and she curled up, allowing the water to wash away her tears.
Chapter Twenty
Ryder could hear her grief. Dammit, he wanted to go to her, to fold her in his arms and rock her. But the sight of another man right now might not be the best thing, so he made up the bed for her. He would take the sofa.
Once the sheets were changed he sat on the edge of the mattress and listened to her vent her grief.
Dead Eyes was dead. Ryder had made sure of it, and Star…she’d shown great courage today. He’d saved her, but he’d lost himself in the process. He wasn’t sure what had led him to her, but as soon as his feet had hit the arena platform he’d been overcome with a fury so hot he’d barely been able to see. Vaguely aware of the fights breaking out around him, his feet had taken him into the forgotten tunnel and white hot rage had done the rest. If she hadn’t stopped him then he would probably still be pounding mashed flesh.
She’d stopped him.
He sat up straighter. Star had been able to reach him within the haze. How?
He needed to figure it out.
The sobs had stopped.
The door to the bathroom opened and she stepped into the room. Her hair hung in damp ropes down her back, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed, but she still looked amazing. He’d loaned her one of his shirts. It came to an inch above her knees, perfectly decent except for the fact that it clung to her every curve.
He’d always preferred women with smaller breasts.
He averted his eyes, standing up quickly and moving away from the bed. “You can sleep there.”
Star looked at the bed then back at him.
“I’ll take the sofa.”
She glanced at the sofa. “No, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
What was wrong with her? “But…I changed the sheets…” Huh, was that a smile tugging at her lips? He was so confused.
“I appreciate it, I do. But I’m small enough to be comfy on the couch, you…not so much.”
“You think I care about that? Dammit, woman, you were almost raped. That fucker had his hands all over you and you think I give a toss about getting a good night’s sleep?” The anger was back so sudden he barely had time to contain it, as if letting it off the leash once guaranteed it a repeat performance. “You should never have gone alone. You should have waited for me. He would have killed you!”
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I’m grateful you got there in time? Fucking hell, it’s why I’m taking the couch!”
Anger simmered in the air between them. His chest was tight with it, he could feel it spreading, his eyes widened in panic. He needed to get it under control. “Fuck!” He doubled over, clutching his stomach as if he could hold it in.
“Ryder?”
“Star, you need to leave.”
“Ryder? I’m not going anywhere.”
“Please? Fuck, I can’t control it.”
And then she put her hand on his shoulder and the anger died, just like that. He slumped to the floor, head reeling with the sudden shift in emotion.
He looked up into her eyes, warm and sympathetic, and then he looked across at her hand still resting on his shoulder.
“I think we may have found a solution to our little problem.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Star didn’t think she’d ever fall asleep. Ryder’s conviction that the object lodged in her palm could somehow control the rage inside of him circled round and round in her head. Sleep hovered on the fringes, but must have swooped in at some point because she awoke to the sound of distressed groans. The room was in almost total darkness, the only light shone through the cracks in the boards over the windows. She waited for her eyes to adjust.
Another groan followed by a whimper.
Ryder was dreaming…a nightmare maybe? Yeah, she remembered those, was still plagued by them on a regular basis. She slipped off the sofa and over to the bed. He was lying on his back, arm flung over his eye
s. His body twitched, trapped in whatever memory or messed up scenario his brain had conjured.
Should she wake him? She gnawed on her lip.
He cried out
Fuck it.
She reached for him, shook his arm and then yelped as she was yanked onto the bed and pinned beneath a very hard, very aroused male.
He nuzzled her ear, his warm breath sending tingles down her neck. His hips jerked against her, pushing his erection into the juncture of her thighs.
This was no nightmare.
Shit!
“Ryder…” she whispered urgently, but he wasn’t listening. His hands were roving over her body and she couldn’t think straight because it felt so unbelievably good. His fingers were calloused and zapped her with the twinges every time they brushed against her bare flesh. She wriggled, telling herself she was trying to get free, but instead she pushed her hips up to meet his and gasped as he settled in her most intimate place.
He groaned low and husky in her ear, grinding into her in circular motions.
Oh god, it felt…fuck, just another minute to feel the shocks of pleasure, to imagine what it would feel like if he actually entered her…just a moment.
He raised his head and looked right into her eyes.
Raw, open, hungry and very much awake.
She froze under him and then he dipped his head and claimed her mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryder was lost in her, the taste, the heat, the softness of her. She was wet against him, warm and ready, her hips moving in time with his, against his. He was so hard it hurt, tight and ready, and fuck, he needed to be inside her. He knew it was a dream, but it felt so good, so friggin’ real. He’d happily stay here for the rest of his days.
He couldn’t have her for real, didn’t deserve this euphoric feeling, but his dreams were his to do with as he pleased. His fingers skimmed skin, lips brushed against her collar bone and then they grazed the swollen bumpy skin of the bite. If this was a dream then…his eyes snapped open and he reared up to look down on her. She was really beneath him, ready for him, lips parted, breath quick and shallow. This was real…he shouldn’t… Her eyes widened and his resolve took a walk. He dipped his head and took her mouth, almost losing it when she moaned into him.
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 182
