Bastards & Whiskey (Top Shelf Book 1)

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Bastards & Whiskey (Top Shelf Book 1) Page 9

by Alta Hensley


  I crossed my arms and glared at him. “I already gave you my answer.”

  An ominous shadow washed over his face as I was lifted into the air by Kenneth and swung over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing to the man. He bolted out the front door and down the porch stairs, heading straight for a black Escalade waiting in front. Complete panic filled me as I thought of all the horrors that may happen in the hands of this man. He could be far more deviant than the asshole I had recently escaped. I already knew he was no nonsense, and a man all the ladies at Spiked Roses feared. But what if there was more beneath the surface? What if my fleeing and forcing him to come after me had awoken the beast?

  “Stop fighting me,” he demanded calmly, carrying me to the vehicle, apparently not really concerned as my fists walloped on his back.

  I continued to kick and punch with every ounce of strength I still had left in my body, coughing from the bone of his shoulder pressing into my stomach with every twist and turn of my resistance. The pressure of his shoulder into my abdomen also prevented me from screaming—if there had been any point in screaming to begin with. Everything was happening so fast. I would be thrown in the back of the vehicle before anyone would arrive to save me.

  Kenneth swatted my ass hard, causing an involuntary yelp to escape my mouth. “I said to stop fighting me.” He spanked my bottom two more times until I paused in my useless struggle.

  “That’s a good girl,” he praised.

  The submissive term of endearment fired me up again. I would never be anyone’s “good girl”. I began my fight with a renewed strength. Over and over, I kicked and punched, only to be rewarded with continued swats in response. Fucking bastard was spanking me like a damn child.

  Kenneth

  I lowered her feet to the ground, my hands still gripped tightly around her tiny wrist, my stare immediately going to her rich brown eyes. “What the hell did you think you were doing running here? Did you really think no one would find you?” I asked, pulling my gaze away from her briefly and tossing her into the back of the car, knowing I had to get her as far away from this house in this piece of shit town, and quickly. “I took you for a smart woman. You didn’t think they would look for you at your friend’s place in your fucking hometown? Are you a goddamn idiot?”

  She continued struggling against me, her fists punching, and her legs kicking me in the side with a vengeance as I crawled in beside her, slipping across the slick leather seating. I knocked on the glass separating the back seat from the driver to signal for him to take off.

  When the vehicle started and pulled away, Anita’s eyes widened as she glanced out the tinted windows. “You have no right to take me. This is kidnapping! Who the fuck do you think you are?” she demanded.

  I turned calmly to look at her, my hands going to her assailing fists trying to stop her futile attack. Finally grabbing her by the wrists, I made her stop, my eyes studying this woman I’d felt the duty to find. Her skin was so pale, bruised in areas from the hand of a monster—no doubt Marco Nunez. Her body seemed so fragile, a contrast to the spitfire that ineffectively pummeled at me. As I restrained her, I couldn’t help but be concerned I may bruise her delicate skin even further. I knew this woman was practically a stranger to me, and I shouldn’t give a fuck about her wellbeing, but I still didn’t want to deliberately cause her any lasting injury or mark her beautiful skin more than it was.

  Feeling her boot heel clomping down hard onto my foot, my attention pulled away from Anita’s tantalizing beauty and back to the harsh reality that stood before us. I needed to remember why I was here with this woman in the first place. I wasn’t here by choice. I was here because I needed to figure out a way to clean up this fucking mess. A fucking mess her dumb ass put us both in.

  “You signed the fucking contract, and I’m here to make sure you honor it,” I told her as she continued her assault on me.

  “You can fuck off, you and that disgusting contract!” Anita yelled, still fighting against me. “Mind your own business, and let me go.”

  “I advise you stop before I lose my patience,” I warned, my lips close to her ear. So close that I could smell a floral scent mixed with spice that literally made my mouth water. “And watch your mouth and speak like a fucking lady, or you won’t be sitting comfortably for the entire ride back. I tolerate many things from women, but I can’t stand a foul-talking, truck stop vocabulary.”

  Anita seemed to pay no attention to my warning as she continued fighting against me, her body brushing against me in a way most men only hope to have some woman to do so well in the heat of a sexual encounter. But this was no fucking sexual encounter. She was a goddamn, out of control little brat right now. The nerve that she actually believed she could take the money and run caused my core to sizzle with frustration. And she was acting like I was the bad guy! I was saving her goddamn life. Well, I was sick of playing Mr. Nice Guy and Mr. Professional. I was going to do this my way from now on.

  My irritation—and sexual frustration—building, I did the only thing I knew would keep her still and silent. My fingers firmly gripping her chin, I lifted her head, grabbed a handful of hair in my hand forcefully, and kissed her hard and fast on the lips, nipping at her lower lip.

  “Now you stay still, baby doll, or you’ll be getting more than just a kiss,” I said, enjoying how the force of intimacy seemed to cease all breathing in the stubborn woman. I finally had the upper hand… and I didn’t mind how I had to get it either.

  Stunned motionless, Anita just stared. “What are you planning to do to me?” Anita asked, her struggles gone, her tone obviously nervous.

  “I told you. You signed a contract, and now I’m bringing you back to New Orleans to honor it. Marco—your new owner for the next two weeks—is waiting for you. And from what I know of this man, you could be in a world of trouble for trying to steal from him and think you’d get away with it. I’ll try to fix this, but you need to shut your fucking mouth, smile like a good little girl, and let me handle it.”

  “Fuck you,” she said in more of a mumble than a statement. She crossed her arms against her chest and stared out the window in what I had to admit was the most adorable pout I had ever seen.

  10

  Kenneth

  The driver of the Escalade pulled up to a Travel Lodge that sat on an exit along the highway still hours away from New Orleans. We needed to stop for the night, and this was the best that could be found for lodging along the way. I was half tempted to make Anita stay in some Motel 8 that reeked of B.O. and dirty twat as penance for her little stunt but then realized the only person truly suffering would be me. Anita was probably used to those conditions. I, on the other hand, hadn’t stayed in a Travel Lodge since I was a law student traveling with buddies to see a Metallica concert.

  I reached into my duffle bag at my feet and pulled out a short length of rope, which I used to secure her hands together in front of her. I was tired of being hit and didn’t feel like battling it out in front of the staff of the hotel. She didn’t resist which surprised me, but I think I stunned her by my actions more than her actually showing signs of submission.

  “What are you doing?” Anita finally snapped as I pulled her from the car. “Why did you tie me with this rope?” She didn’t struggle but stared at her hands still appearing surprised I had actually tied her up. Maybe the gravity of the situation was finally sinking in.

  “Be quiet or I’ll gag you too. I’m trusting you can keep your mouth shut while we walk through the lobby, yes?” I draped my jacket over her confined wrists to conceal the rope.

  Instead of answering me or telling me to go fuck myself, she asked, “Where are we?”

  “Fuck if I know. Out in the middle of nowhere thanks to you.”

  And that was truly where we were. Nowhere. One shitty hotel, a diner called Mama Bear’s, and two small gas stations across the street from each other. I did take pause and wonder what the fuck reason there would be for two gas stations literally a few yards from eac
h other, but I figured things didn’t make sense in the armpit of hell.

  “We’ll stay here for the night. The driver needs to rest, and though I wouldn’t mind driving, I wouldn’t put the poor man through having to sit with you and your violent tantrums in the back seat.”

  “I would never hit the man,” she said as a mix of shock and insult washed across her face.

  “No? You just hit me?” I placed my hand on her back and led her toward the entrance of the hotel, while the driver was getting our bags.

  Anita did an about face and started to back away from me. “You expect me to just stay with you? Not try to escape?”

  “You will if you want to stay safe.” I closed the distance between us. “Marco put a bounty on your head. You’re lucky I found you before his goons did.” I stepped towards her further when she took a few more steps back. “Don’t push my patience. If you act up in there, I swear to God I will leave you on the side of the highway, call Marco myself, and tell him exactly where you are. I have no doubt his men will come and make your life holy hell before they deliver you beaten and raped. This isn’t the time to be stupid.”

  She continued stepping away from me, stumbling a bit as her foot tripped on the sidewalk edge in the parking lot. “You stay away from me, you monster! I’m not staying with you for another second.” She charged in the direction of the Escalade. “You are going to take me back to Muckaluk, and you can tell that asshole you never found me. Go home empty handed, you piece of shit!”

  Just as Anita struggled to open the back door of the car with her still bound wrists, I reached for her, pulling her kicking and cursing back towards me. Thank God we were in the middle of nowhere so that no one would see this. 911 would be called and I would have to buy someone off if they saw this ridiculous scene.

  “Knock this shit off,” I ordered between clenched teeth. I swatted her hard on the ass as I pulled her close to me, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. The driver, however, was watching the display with annoyance as he had the bags slung over his shoulders. I nodded with my head. “Go ahead and get us two rooms. We will be in there in a second once Anita stops acting like a naughty child.”

  “I’m a human being! You can’t kidnap me like this! Contract or not, this is all illegal,” she cried.

  “You gave me no fucking choice. Not only are you putting your life at risk, you are fucking with my business. I’m not going to allow Spiked Roses to be taken down with you because you went chicken shit and ran away like a scared little girl. You knew what kind of people you were dealing with the minute you accepted the position. Men of power. Dangerous men. Ruthless men. Men you do not want to fuck around with. Men who can destroy you. You walked into a dark and fucked up world, and we warned you. Then when you took it to the next level and signed that contract…” I struggled to keep a steady tone, my jaw tight, not amused by her constant fight. I was losing my temper fast, but wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing it. “You upped the game. A very twisted and dark game. But you were warned. You knew. So, don’t look at me with those innocent eyes and pretend you didn’t know. You knew. You fucking knew.”

  Anita threw off my jacket from covering her hands. “I fucking hate you,” she spat.

  Bending down, I reached for the jacket, struggling to not show that the bitch was working my last nerve. Taking advantage of my position, she kicked me square on the cheek. Luckily for me, she didn’t have the room to get full strength behind the kick to do much harm, but it was enough to throw me off balance and landing me flat on my ass. Fury blazed inside. I could fucking kill her right now with my bare hands, and though I could be ruthless, I had never been violent… until now. I could wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze, taking pleasure as I saw the life leave her fearful eyes. Yes, I would take great pleasure. But this was exactly why I hadn’t let Harley Crow take the job of bringing her back. Anita would have been dead by now. Very few men at the club had my patience, but it had grown extremely thin.

  Standing tall again, refusing to show my anger and give her the power of knowing she was getting to me in any way, I looked her in the eye, about to end her temper tantrums once and for all. “You will go inside next to me. You will not say a single word, or do anything at all but walk. If you do not, I swear to fucking God, you will pay dearly. When I’m done with you, you will wish to hell to be in the grasp of a pissed off Marco Nunez over me.” I said the words through clenched teeth, struggling not to throttle her right where she stood. “Do you understand?”

  She said nothing but stared into my eyes. Was she wondering if she could push further? Was she trying to read me? Well, good luck with that. I made millions off the fact that no one could read me in court and in negotiations. Cold, soulless, lacking any emotion was what made me richer than most men. So good luck, bitch. Try to read my ass.

  Wiping the dirt from the seat of my pants, I once again placed the jacket over her bound wrists and lead her to the entrance of the Travel Lodge. Nothing this woman did would change things. She could struggle. She could beg and plead. Nothing would take the bounty from her head. Things were what they were. She had signed the contract, taken the money, and had tried to run away. Black and white. But I would keep her safe and unharmed to the best of my ability. I owed it to Spiked Roses to not have any of the girls be put in grave danger.

  Glancing down to her as we crossed the threshold of the lobby where Anita walked calmly against her will, I had to admit the woman wasn’t at all what I had expected. Was she putting up a fight for show? Or did she actually think she could break free, out run me, and somehow hide from Marco Nunez? She didn’t seem to be afraid that death, or possible torture was knocking at her door if she had been captured by someone else. She seemed much spicier in spirit than what I’d thought I would get.

  I could see by the bruises on her arms and cheek that Marco hadn’t been a gentle man. I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be a forced sexual slave, but at the same time, she signed the fucking contract. This was her choice 100% and no one was holding a gun to her head. She didn’t seem stupid, or even naïve. I couldn’t put my finger on her personality and it was driving me crazy. I prided myself on being able to read people. Hell, it’s what made me one smart motherfucker.

  She resisted submission clearly, but there was something of that nature hidden away—I could see it. I could feel it. That much I could be sure of. Every time I spanked her ass or showed any dominance at all, she did seem to submit slightly—not a lot, but I noticed a change in her breathing, a flutter of her eyes, a nibble on her lip. For a brief moment, her rage subsided. Maybe that was why she signed that damn contract. She was a natural submissive, but unfortunately, for her first experience, she’d chosen a fucking asshole to show her the ropes.

  I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t afford to be thinking about this chick, a woman who would no doubt fight me every step of the way should I even lay an affectionate hand on her or simply offer a sympathetic word. I had to show her I meant no nonsense and to make her fear me. It was the only way we would get our asses back to New Orleans without killing each other.

  She was striking though… far more so than any woman at Spiked Roses, and that was saying a lot. Had I met her under different circumstances… I would fuck her for hours, pause for a drink, and then fuck her some more.

  Huffing to myself, I pushed against her lower back as I made eye contact with the driver at the counter, happy to see him nod that everything was going fine with check-in. One step closer to being done with this ordeal. I did feel for the girl a bit because of what I knew of this ruthless man who owned her for the next two weeks. A woman like Anita didn’t deserve the life waiting for her at the hands of Marco Nunez. But my business revolved around the strength of the contract and the terms to protect the tastings. If word got out that a woman could sign, and then take the money and run, Spiked Roses would be ruined. The fun little dirty tastings would become a joke. The only way to fix this was to make Anita pa
y up one way or the other. Harsh, but a reality nonetheless. Shit, Anita’s hands weren’t the only ones that were tied. Hers were bound with rope, but, fuck it, responsibility and duty bound mine just as tightly. And even if I let her go, it was just a matter of time until one of Marco’s goons found her. A goon who was fierce, thirsty for blood, and dangerous with the need of something to prove. A hired man who would soullessly fuck her, then return her to Marco—who would also fuck her, no doubt punish her, then fuck her again. Being pissed on would be minor compared to what I knew Marco could do to her.

  The driver approached us with two key cards in his hand. We didn’t stop walking, but all made our way to the elevators and out of the eyes of the front desk staff. Even Anita was smart enough to know she needed to do that. Having police involved when she’d stolen $100,000 dollars would not be a good thing for her.

  “I got two King bed rooms. They didn’t have any suites or anything fancier, sir,” the driver said, handing me a card.

  I nodded and also took my large duffel bag from his shoulder. “That will be fine. It’s one night.”

  Anita stopped as I pushed the button to the elevator. “That will not be fine! I’m assuming you think I’ll be sleeping with you? Fuck if I will sleep in the same bed with you. Nowhere in the contract did it say I had to do anything with you.”

  I shoved her into the elevator and waited for the doors to close. “You will do whatever the fuck I say and shut your goddamn mouth.”

  She glanced at me, the driver, and then back at me with pure venom in her eyes. “You two share a room then.”

  I chuckled, but didn’t even dignify her comment with a verbal response.

  It was a bit amusing to see her attempt to cross her arms, her bound wrists evidently forgotten for an instant. Still, she raised her arms to cover her chest in a pout, clearly fuming by the coloration on her pale complexion.

 

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