Dirty Debt

by Lauren Landish

  Chapter 9

  Ryker

  After dropping off another book to Sarah, this time American Gods, I go out to the living room, where I find Marcus blowing his nose and wiping at his eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah . . . just that drain cleaner smells fucking terrible!” Marcus says, chuckling. “I poured a bottle in each shower, and then the fumes hit me. Felt like something had reached up and grabbed my brain and was pulling it out through my fucking nostrils!”

  I go over to the kitchen garbage, where I see the bottles in the trash, and I pick one up, checking the instructions. “Holy shit man, you’re lucky to be alive. This is the industrial grade shit and on the back, it says you’re supposed to wear a ventilator and goggles when you pour it. Where the hell did you get it?”

  “Louie’s Plumbing Supply,” Marcus says. “You know, the company owned by Downtown Bootsy’s brother?”

  I nod, putting the bottle carefully back in the trash before washing my hands in the sink. Better safe than sorry. I’d like to not dissolve my eyeball next time I get an itch. “Be careful with that shit. And the rest of what you went out for?”

  “Streets are still on lock, man. The dealers are ready to pay directly to us, and the street workers are too. The Docks are ours already, and it might take a while, but I think we can get the airport under us quickly too. With some pressure.”

  I nod, thinking as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Okay, we’ll focus there. Anything from Jacob?”

  “Just what you heard. He’s supposedly raising the money somehow. He’s called in markers with a lot of people. Word is he wants her back bad.”

  I shake my head. “Maybe, but I was wrong about her.”

  “About Sarah?” Marcus asks as I pour him a cup of coffee and hand it to him. “How so?”

  I sit down, trying to separate my logical thoughts from the physical memories of having her pressed against my body, her lips on mine as we kissed in the bathroom. She was perfect, the way her skin felt, the weight of her breast in my hand, the feel of her lips on mine. I’ve had women before, it sort of comes with my position in life. But none of them kissed me the way that Sarah did, and none of them felt the way she did in my arms. Even now, I’m having trouble trying to control the urge to go back to her room and give her what her body demanded, and what my body needs as well. I want to fuck her, to feel her underneath me and to hear her gasp, whining as I set her body on fire. I want to show her what sex really can be, and what it could be. What I want to give her, and what I want to take from her.

  “When we talked about snatching her, it was not just to paralyze Jacob. We assumed she was guilty too,” I finally say, sipping my coffee. “But we were wrong. We thought she was involved, that she had to know. You said it yourself.”

  “I also said I thought she was too stupid to realize what she’d become involved in,” Marcus recalls. “I talked to her last night, and she isn’t stupid.”

  “And a lot more innocent than we are,” I finish.

  “She is. Somehow, I never expected that, but she’s the one person in all this who might really be innocent. So what are we doing, Ryker? We could take the money and still not return her to that abusive asshole,” Marcus says, looking thoughtful.

  “It ain’t about the money. It never was. It’s about respect and fear,” I reply. “He could go to the governor himself and tell him to hand over the entire state budget, and so long as Jacob’s got respect and fear on his side, the governor’s going to ask if he wants a blowjob along with the cash. No. He might lose a little respect, but I doubt it. If anything, he’s upping the fear levels people have of him. He’s gotta show that he won't let anybody take from him what belongs to him, or else he loses something more important than the damn money. The stakes are getting higher and higher between us each minute, and it’s going to come to blood sooner rather than later.”

  “So, what do you want to do?” Marcus asks, and I think, sipping my coffee. It’s hard to think suddenly. All of my thoughts about Jacob are mixed up with my thoughts about Sarah and the way she felt in my arms. It felt so right, but I have to wonder if it was only because she is his. Finally, I come to a conclusion.

  “First, no more negotiations. I don’t care if he offers thirty two, sixty four, or a hundred and twenty eight million dollars for her. This is all over, he ain’t getting her back. Fuck him and his money. No, we go after him and take away his respect and fear,” I say harshly, finishing off my coffee. “And I want his four restaurants hit. Not just hit. I want them blown the fuck up. Waters is proud of those fucking restaurants, they’re like his crown jewels when he wants to pretend he’s a legitimate businessman. So we take those away from him. For now though, I’m going to go get a fucking workout in, get rid of some stress.”

  I stand up, going to my room where I quickly change. I’ve got my own gym in the basement of the building, so that’s not a problem for security as I leave my bedroom and head toward the elevator. I pause at the door, looking back at Marcus, who’s pulled up a kung fu movie on the computer. “Hey, Marcus?”

  “Yeah?” Marcus says, taking out his earbuds. “You want the computer for something first?”

  “No, not that. Just . . . what I don’t understand is why he treated her like that if he’s willing to pay up? Why would he treat such a beauty that way?”

  Marcus shakes his head, putting his right earbud back in but leaving the video paused. “Beats me. You’re the one who took philosophy and read that Roman fucker and shit. For me, I guess it comes pretty simple.”

  “What’s that?” I ask as Marcus turns back to the computer but still pauses to answer.

  “Some men are just monsters. Have a good lift.”

  Some men are just monsters. He might not be Marcus Aurelius, but my brother says some pretty wise things sometimes.

  Chapter 10

  Sarah

  “It’s been days. Please, just let me go,” I plead. I can’t stand it any more. It’s not the way I’ve been treated, other than being stuck to the bed most of the time Ryker and Marcus have treated me well, with respect even.

  It’s the stress. Every minute I expect to hear gunfire, or an explosion, or something signaling Jacob coming to get me. I can barely sleep, I haven’t been able to move enough to really wear myself out, and with nothing but books and boredom to fill my hours, my inner demons have come out to play. I want to do anything to get away from them, especially the fear. It doesn’t matter that Ryker is nice to me, or that he’s so handsome, and that when he looks at me there’s respect in the desire in his eyes. It doesn’t matter that my body wants him too. I’m terrified of the ghost around the corner.

  “You can’t just keep me here forever. He’s going to find you, and then . . . please, he’ll kill us both after this long. He’s a fucking psycho.”

  “I know that,” Ryker says. “But I’m not letting you go, Sarah. I did a quick little remodeling job, though. I have a secure room for you.”

  He comes over and unlocks the handcuff, not at the bedpost like he’s always done before but at my wrist. Rubbing at my wrist, looking at the light pink mark there, I follow him to the elevator, where he takes me downstairs. It feels longer than when I was over his shoulder, and when the door opens, I see why. “We’re underground.”

  “Exactly,” Ryker says. “I own a lot more than just the penthouse of this building. And the other day, after our talk, I did a lift down here. While I was in the middle of it, I realized I had a better, more secure place than locking you up in a spare bedroom all day.”

  Ryker takes out a key and unlocks a door, and I’m surprised by what I see. “Uh… it’s a cell.”

  He looks around, humming. “I suppose you can see it that way.”

  See it that way? The walls are cinderblock, the vaulted heights of the penthouse have been replaced by a ceiling just a few inches above my head, and the rich carpet’s been replaced by what looks like industrial carpeting that was puzzle mats earlier. While there’s a cabinet,
there isn’t a lot more unless the corner section that’s covered by a moveable curtain is hiding something special. “How could I see it any other way? Ryker, there are no windows.”

  He nods, leading me inside and closing the door behind us. “Of course there aren’t. That wouldn’t be very secure now, would it? But there’s also no chains in this room. Back in the day, this used to be the office for the maintenance guy back when he lived on site. You’ve got running water and a toilet.”

  Ryker shows me the curtained off area, and he’s right, and while the toilet’s old-looking, it’s in decent shape and the water flows clear at least. “Better yet, check this out.”

  He opens the cabinet, and I’m surprised to find a TV with a PlayStation attached. “It’s an older one, there’s no Internet on this thing, but one of my boys brought it over along with a dozen games. Between that and any books you might like, you’ll find what you need to keep your mind occupied, and there’s enough space that you can get some exercise in, let your body get the kinks out all you want. Best of all, like I said, no chains.”

  I look around, nodding. “It’s better than being chained up, I guess. I’d rather have my freedom, but I’ll take it.”

  Ryker shakes his head, a little frustrated. “Sarah, do you know what’s going on out on the streets right now? It’s an underground war that’s starting. Nobody’s taking prisoners right now. If I let you go, at worst, he may very well find you and kill you. At best, you go back to him. He knows where you are, in this kind of war it’s not about hiding but about keeping your enemy afraid to hit you. Right now he’s afraid of not getting you back. If I let you go… make no mistake, he will find you. I’m not going to let you get yourself killed.”

  The way he says it makes me shiver, fear rippling down my spine. Ryker is right. Running away is a fool’s errand, but still, why should I feel so grateful for being given a goddamn cell instead of being locked up?

  “Well, can I at least take a shower now?” I ask, sniffing. A washcloth helps, but I still feel pretty ripe and grungy. That, more than anything else, is adding to my feeling of ungratefulness. One luxury Jacob did allow me was long, warm showers. It helped me deal with the stress. “You know, with soap? You should have gotten the drains cleared by now.”

  Ryker stops, then nods brusquely. “Fine. There’s a shower down here you can use.”

  He opens the door, leading me down the hallway to another room, which I find is a decently equipped home gym. “Yours?”

  “Mine,” Ryker agrees, leading me to a door on the far wall. “Here.”

  It’s a small locker room with a shower stall, enough for two or three people. Simple but effective. “I’ll make sure that you’re given another change of clothes and some toiletries,” he says as he sits down in the folding chair. “Go ahead.”

  I look around, surprised. “There’s no changing stall. There isn’t even a shower curtain.”

  “Never needed one,” Ryker says simply. “As for you, I’ve seen it all already.”

  I nod, for some reason nervous as I take off my clothes and get in the shower. The water’s nice and warm, a luxury after being dirty for so long. I let the water run over my neck and over my face, trying to remember that Ryker’s right. He’s seen me naked from the waist up before. But as the warm water runs over my body, I can feel his eyes on me, and I look back, shaken by the intense look on his face.

  “Don’t worry about me. Just wash yourself,” Ryker says, and I turn back, trying my best to do just that, to put the fact that he’s right behind me out of my mind. But then he stands up, and I’m startled, dropping the soap. I bend down to pick it up, dropping it again when I hear something hit the floor. I turn around and see he’s in the shower with me.

  He’s gorgeous, even more than I thought he could be. His body isn’t bulky but lean, his muscles long and flowing from joint to joint. If he weren’t a gangster, he could be a male model with a body like his. His hips are slim, but there’s still corded muscle below his washboard stomach, and when I look down, I gasp.

  His cock is long and thick, and I can’t stop my mind from thinking what he could do to me with it. For all the brutality that Jacob’s put me through, he’s never been able to measure up, and looking at Ryker, I gulp. My mind fills with heat, the thoughts of what an encounter with him could be. It would change me forever, regardless of what happens after this, but I want it. I want the change. I look up into his eyes, and he’s looking at me with such intensity that I know he’s thinking the same thing.

  “I’ve watched you for days,” Ryker says softly, taking me by the shoulders and turning me around. His fingers start to stroke my skin, and I feel laid bare, unable to resist the fact that he’s touching me more intimately than when he teased my breasts the other day. “You’re beautiful, Sarah.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper.

  “You’re a survivor,” Ryker says. “And the only scars you ever need to worry about are the ones on your soul.”

  I turn to him, more vulnerable than I’ve felt in years. “I’m scared, Ryker.”

  “I’ll keep you safe,” he says, and suddenly, we’re kissing, his hands roaming over my body as the warm water pelts my back. I’m kissing him back, our tongues and lips dueling as I feel myself wake up more. Five years, and this is what I’ve been missing. Heat, pure and wonderful. Desire, not fear, and it feels like warm honey dribbling down my throat and sweetening every taste in my mouth. Ryker’s lips trail down my neck as he bends his knees slightly, his hand coming to squeeze my ass, and he kisses over my shoulder before going back to my lips, drawing my breath into him and sharing everything with me.

  He pushes me back against the side wall of the stall. The tile’s a little cold, but that just makes it all seem real. This isn’t some just fantasy I’ve imagined after Jacob’s abusiveness. This is real, this man who’s holding me and kissing me is completely real. “Ryker . . . oh, my God, you’re really doing this.”

  “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to wonder if I’m in a fantasy?” he asks with a confident chuckle as he steps back, bringing his hand up to cup my left breast, kneading it and making my knees weak. “You’re the one who was my teenage fantasy. I even fantasized about you when I was your security guy.”

  “I wondered if that was you. With the creepy fan?” I ask, my head spinning as the steamy shower combines with the words he’s murmuring in my ear and the feeling of his hand on my breast.

  “That was me. I’ll admit, I spent a few weeks after that with daydreams of you running around in my mind. The way you looked at me,” Ryker says before his tongue finds my earlobe and I’m swept away in the feeling of his hands on my breasts and his tongue on my skin. Each sweep is electric, his fingers lightly pinching my nipples until they’re hard and aching even under the warm water, the warmth and wetness between my legs having nothing to do with the shower at all. “The way you looked at me made me fantasize about what could have been. Now, I have it. Sarah, I’m going to fill you up, slide my cock so deep inside you that you’re going to feel split open. But you’re going to want it, aren’t you? You’re going to beg for me to give it to you, to show you what being with a man is supposed to be again. I’m going to take you, make you come on me, and shake you to the very depths of your soul. Because I’m going to remove the damage that he’s done to you, and when I’m done you’re never going to be the same again. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  I can’t even reply his words take the breath right out of my mouth. Instead I reach down blindly, tracing my fingernails over his hard stomach to find his cock, which is now fully hard and throbbing in my hand. Even just touching him feels like I’m being swept away, the veiny texture and the thick flare of his cockhead sending my body into tremors of anticipation. I’ve never, in my whole life, felt a cock like this before, and to be honest, it scares me a little. He’s right, this is going to change me once this is over. Ryker notices, and his lips pause before he pulls back.
“Sarah?”

  “You realize how fucking hung you are?” I ask, stroking him lightly. “It’s a little intimidating, Ryker.”

  He ignores me, pinning me against the wall and lifting my leg, his eyes boring into mine. “Are you saying no?”

  “No way in my life am I saying no to—” I start, but then all the words are ripped from my mind as his cock fills me. I feel him go slowly at first, and my pussy accepts him without protest, white hot pleasure rolling up my spine as he fills me in one long, slow stroke. I grip him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he goes deeper, deeper than anyone’s ever gone before, and it starts to hurt a little as I’m stretched, but I don’t care. It’s the good kind of hurt. I grab his head, kissing him when he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside my body.

  We go slow at first, Ryker’s cock sliding in and out of me at a sensual pace, our lips and hands stroking our bodies as he gives me time to adjust, or maybe he’s just taking in the luxury of being inside me. After a moment, he cups my cheek, looking me in the eyes. “So . . . fucking . . . perfect.”

  His tone is even better than the feeling of his cock rubbing against all the right places inside me, the head of his cock touching places I didn’t even know existed inside me and my clit grinding against him slowly. “You . . . thank you. Faster?”

  Ryker grunts lightly, pulling out and turning me around, pulling my arms behind my back and throwing my hair out of the way so that his lips can find my neck while he buries himself inside me again. His cock drives into me at a harder, more demanding angle that lights up my pussy in a whole different way. I didn’t know it could be this way as he pumps in and out of me, letting go of one arm to knead my breasts, his breath hot on my ear. “Is this what you want? Harder?”