by Jennifer Ann
Courageous
Rock Bottom #3
Jennifer Ann
Contents
1. Andie
2. Andie
3. Stone
4. Andie
5. Stone
6. Andie
7. Stone
8. Andie
9. Stone
10. Andie
11. Stone
12. Andie
13. Stone
Epilogue
Ferocious
About the Author
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. Namely: Beretta, Pantera, Mall of America, Harley Fat Boy, Vans, Soundgarden, Third Eye Blind, LinkedIn
OUTRAGEOUS, Rock Bottom #3
Copyright © 2019 by Jennifer Naumann
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9781090515643
Model: Andrew Leighty
Photographer: Wander Aguilar
Cover Designer: Q Design
Library of Congress Number: Pending
1
Andie
5 years ago
The hands on the old clock screwed to the brick wall tick by slowly, each stuttered tick challenging the arrhythmic beats of my heart.
Tick…tock.
He thinks he can own me—to tell me what to do, and when to do it.
Tick…tock.
Today that no longer holds true.
Tick…tock.
Today’s the day I’m breaking free of this hell.
Tick…tock.
Today’s the day I take back my life.
My mouth’s bone-dry when the big hand settles on the 12, signaling the exact time the goons head for lunch. Twinning engines roaring to life pierce the air, electrifying the blend of fear and excitement brewing in my chest.
I’m running out of chances. He thinks I’m too afraid to run, but I’m not. At least not today.
With the sound of the motorcycles fading off into the distance, I crack the clubhouse door open just enough to make certain I’m alone. I can’t afford to make any mistakes. If he catches me trying to leave, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep me locked up here for the remainder of my miserable life.
I’d rather be dead than made his prisoner. And if I’m caught, there’s a chance my wish will be granted.
Exhaust smoke and the pungent odor of gasoline fill my lungs as I sneak into the wide garage where goon #1 and #2 were parked only seconds ago. It won’t be long until the next two goons report for their shift, even though I can count on them to be at least two minutes late.
I have to move fast.
I’ve dreamed about this opportunity for months, but it never occurred to me that I might want to change into a pair of running shoes until after I scale the chain-link fence, and hit the pavement. But there’s no stopping now. Each time my combat boots pound against the pavement, pain shoots up my shins. Clenching my teeth through the pain, I keep moving.
I aimlessly run until the bitter cold air numbs my face, and tears stream down the sides of my cheeks. I run until every muscle in my body aches, and my feet feel as if they’re on fire. I run until pain shoots through my shoulders from the bag of my worldly possessions strapped to my back. I run until the fear of being caught slowly transforms into a feeling of elation. I push through the misery, focused on the end game.
Freedom.
I’ve been held prisoner by my father for two long years, not having set foot outside the compound since just days after my thirteenth birthday.
Maybe I can hitch a ride to New York or somewhere warm, like Florida or California. Maybe I could even someday find a way to Hawaii.
Downtown, I pull my hoodie over my head and take on a casual pace to blend in with the mess of residents going about their business. I can hardly contain my excitement as I see the South Side for the first time in ages. Everything seems new and exciting, yet familiar.
It’s admittedly a little scary to be in these parts on my own, having heard horror stories of shootings and stabbings that go on between junkies and dealers. But if I’m going to survive on my own, I have to prove I’m brave to myself and the rest of the world.
I huff on my fingers, trying to get some feeling back, but there’s little I can do to stop the stabbing pains in my toes. Knowing when it’s this cold, it only takes a matter of minutes before frost bite sets into exposed skin, I decide it’s time to stop long enough to warm up. Just not anywhere I’d be noticed. The chance of running into one of my father’s men down in these parts is too high. Although downtown isn’t nearly far enough away from the clubhouse, I can use the break to work out a more detailed plan.
By dumb luck, I’m able to sneak past the boarded up door of an abandoned apartment building. It’s a long way from being leveled, and surprisingly not overrun by the homeless. Based on the amount of cobwebs filling every nook and cranny, it’s been closed for years. But there’s a faint stench in the air that smells an awful lot like weed. Either someone has recently been here, or someone’s still in the building. Deciding it’s worth the risk either way, I continue up to the second floor.
A set of ugly green couches, tattered and disgustingly dirty, fill a room covered in band posters. It’s not ideal, but it may be the best I can come up with for the night. At least it’s too cold for there to be any bugs. Rodents are another story.
Just as I perch on the edge of a cushion, my stomach grumbles with a painful clench. I was so nervous about running that I skipped breakfast. I didn’t dare grab anything from the cupboards either, because one of the old ladies would’ve noticed. Everything in my life is controlled and monitored. The old ladies even know when I get my periods.
Tears fill my eyes as the truth settles in. I didn’t think this through as carefully as I thought. Getting away seemed like a big enough obstacle in itself. I won’t last very long on my own without food, or somewhere warm to stay.
Heavy, slow footsteps beat against the wooden floorboards leading up the stairway. With my heart leaping from my chest, I scramble behind one of the couches, breath held as I attempt to make myself smaller. For all I know, my father’s goons were following me all this time. They love to toy with me whenever my father’s not around, sometimes even seeing what it takes to make me cry.
“The fuck you doin’ here?” a deep voice growls from around the corner. Next thing I know, my thigh's kicked by a booted foot. Cigarette smoke pollutes the air. “Hey, moron, I’m talkin’ to you. Your skinny ass is trespassin'.”
Pulling my hood down, I drag my gaze up a pair of dirty jeans and an intimidatingly thick torso covered with a leather coat until I’m met with chillingly beautiful eyes. They’re the same pale blue as a cloudless sky on a warm day.
But there’s a disturbing darkness behind the man’s hard stare, sucking all the air from my lungs. Chin-length hair the color of straw slicked back, strong jaw set, he’s fiercely good looking and older than me—maybe even out of high school. Most importantly, he’s an enormous, scary dude. Worst of all, he reminds me of my father’s men. The type who wouldn’t bat an eye at beating a woman.
If he decides to hurt me, there won’t be a damn thing I can do to stop him.
His beautiful eyes widen at the same time a smirk pulls at his thick lips. He seems to either be surprised that I’m a girl, or amused I’m not running in fear. “You speak English, lil’ mouse?” he sniggers in a voice that’s so deep and rough it
rumbles through my chest.
Heat spreads through my cheeks. My belly tingles. “The door was open.”
“By open, you mean boarded shut?” As he puffs on his cigarette, pale blue eyes drag across my body. I cower beneath my bag, feeling exposed under his threatening stare. I’m feeling all kinds of things, some I don’t know how to describe. He’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time, sending a wave of shivers down my back. “What’re you doin’ here, anyway?”
I hold his stare, refusing to be rattled. “I just need a place to camp out for a few nights.”
“You took this as a free-for-all shelter?” He lets out a cold, heartless laugh. “Sweetheart, that place is down the road.”
My stomach tightens when he says “sweetheart,” making it hard to speak. To him, I probably look like a little girl, but under his potent gaze, I feel like a grown woman. “I can give you money…if you’ll let me stay,” I wheeze out.
He snarls like a wolf. “Go home to your daddy, princess. Girls like you have no business in a place like this.”
Rage thickens through my throat. “Girls like me?” I spit out, rising to my feet. He towers over me like a skyscraper. And there’s so much danger in his gaze that part of me wants to run. But even after he blows a stream of smoke in my face, I refuse to back down. “You have no idea who I am, or what I’ve been through!”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re outta your element.”
He bends down to my level, stopping just before our noses touch. A cold chill of fear spikes my veins, making it hard to breathe in his masculine scent. Rather than being sweaty or gross like with boys my age, it’s as dark and mysterious as the man it belongs to.
More tingles invade my belly when I wonder what it would be like to be kissed by this big, angry man. I haven’t been kissed by anyone, but I imagine those wide, soft lips could wreck me in an instant. When they move again, I almost sigh.
“Go. The fuck. Home.”
Shaking my head, I hold my chin higher, determined not to let him win. Whatever this guy decides to do with me can’t be any worse than what my father will do once he discovers I’ve left. “I can’t go home.”
Tension between us breaks with the sound of more footsteps. A handful of seconds later, I’m ready to cry a thousand gallons of tears of relief when a teenage girl walks in, dark eyes widening on me.
“Andie?” she asks, lips wavering with an unsure smile. “Oh my god, what’re you doing here? I haven’t seen you in forever!”
It only takes a second to recognize the big, beautiful mocha eyes belonging to Sasha Green. We’ve been close since elementary school, having bonded during a recess when Lucas Reynolds yanked me to the ground by my hair. Sasha marched right up to him and threatened to have her big brother and his friends kick his ass. I didn’t know anything about her brother or his friends at the time, but I guessed they must’ve been scary, because Lucas looked ready to piss himself with the warning, and never bothered me again.
Pretty much no one bothered me after I became friends with Sasha. We ate lunch together every day, and hung out whenever we had a chance. I wasn’t allowed to have friends outside of school, and never knew much about her home life, but I get the feeling she wouldn’t understand why I’m running away. She always seemed close with her brother, and she was laid back the few times I saw her interact with his friends. I figured she had the kind of normal parents who read her bedtime stories when she was little, and tucked her in with a kiss.
The big scary guy turns to Sasha, upper lip curled. “You know this chick?”
“Yeah, she’s a friend…from way back.” Sasha’s eyes narrow on him as she sets a hand on her hip. The guy must not be too dangerous the way she’s throwing him attitude. “Why? What’d you say? I swear to god, Stone, if you were a dick to her—”
“Tell your little friend she can’t stay here.” Stone drops the cigarette on the floor and crushes it with a boot before his beautiful blues lock on me. “Stay the fuck outta this neighborhood.”
As he saunters back to the stairway, my heart flips several times in my chest. Why’d he have to be so mean? He acted like he hates my guts, and I’ve never even met him before.
What kind of name is “Stone” anyway? Maybe it has something to do with his cold, stony heart. I’d never met anyone so cranky and gorgeous at the same time. The second he’s out of sight, the darkness brought on by his surly mood vanishes and I’m finally able to breathe.
“He’s another one of my brother’s friends,” Sasha explains with a heavy sigh. “But don’t worry, he’s like that to everyone. He was born an asshole.” When she throws me a toothy smile, we both giggle a little. “Where’ve you been?” she asks. “Why’d you just disappear without saying goodbye?”
Throwing her an uneasy smile, I collect my bag off the floor. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here. I got into some trouble and needed somewhere to hang out until my father cools off. Why are you here?”
“You remember Rook and Ryker? They started a band with Stone and my brother…they use this place for jam sessions. They’re all pretty much jerks. But if you really need a place to stay, I could probably talk my brother into letting you crash on our couch for a night or two.”
“Really? What about your parents?”
“They’re not around.” She lifts one shoulder and flashes a sad little smile. When I notice her smile doesn’t reflect in her eyes, I realize we’re probably more alike than we know. “It’s just my brother and me.”
For the first time since I left the clubhouse, things don’t seem so dire.
But it isn’t long after I’ve settled into Sasha’s house that he finds me.
A part of me always knew there was no escaping.
3 weeks ago
Music rattles the dance club walls in downtown Kansas City as bright lights cascade over the squirming crowd. Considering I haven’t left the clubhouse in almost four months, I’m enchanted by the lively atmosphere and the beautiful people surrounding us.
My father has gone out of his way to make everyone believe that I have no business beyond the walls of the clubhouse because I’m mentally unhinged. He thinks by instilling fear in others, they’ll eventually come to peace with the fact that he won’t ever allow me to leave. I’m only allowed to go on occasional runs with Diesel, and he only brings me along when he doesn’t think there will be enough time to fool around with other women.
“Stay put,” Diesel orders, digging his fingers into my elbow. My spine stiffens with the stench of whiskey omitting from his every pore. He’ll be especially horny later, and want to go all night. “They don’t want old ladies sittin’ in on the exchange.”
He motions to Autumn and Kierra at my side, as if to remind me I’m not alone and my every move is being accounted for. As if I could ever forget.
The four Martyrs of Mayhem members amble off behind the club’s owner and his security guards, eye-fucking every young girl in a tight dress as they pass. A sense of relief washes over me, knowing it’ll take them at least an hour to hash out the details of how to intercept an upcoming deal involving stolen guns. It gives me a whole 60 minutes to pretend I’m free to live a normal life.
Autumn regards me with arched brows. “Want something to drink, honey?”
I let out a little sigh, relieved she’s the one Boady brought down this time. She’s one of the oldest old ladies in the club, and doesn’t treat me like total garbage. “Sure,” I say with a grateful smile. “I’ll take a vodka sour.”
“Your skinny ass better not move from this same fuckin’ spot while we’re gone,” Kierra snarls, eyeing me with disgust as she follows her sister in the direction of the bar.
Once they’re gone, I rest my arms on the railing overlooking the crowd below and laugh to myself. One of these times I’ll tell Kierra I know damn well she’s been fucking Diesel for years. I wish like hell she could have him.
“Andie?” someone yells above the blaring hip hop song. “Is that really you?”
&
nbsp; My spine stiffens with the familiarity of the woman’s voice. Turning to meet a set of beautifully dark eyes that blend with their pupils, I’m instantly transported back to the days of being a kid on the South Side.
Sasha’s almost unrecognizable in a black sequined dress, dark hair died honey blond, heavy makeup giving her a mature look. A wave of emotions clog my throat with the sight of my old friend. It doesn’t feel like much time has passed since she offered me refuge. With a tug of sadness, I realize it’s been five long years.
“Oh my god, it is you!” Throwing her arms around my neck, Sasha laughs. “I can’t believe you’re really here! I haven’t seen anyone from the neighborhood since…” She draws back, shaking the rest of the sentence from her thoughts with a bright smile. Her hands grasp my forearms like she knows I’m ready to dart away. “What happened to you? Why did you just leave our house without a note or anything? I was so scared something really bad happened!”
Wiggling free of her hold, I glance over my shoulder to ensure Autumn and Kierra aren’t watching. God knows Kierra would be eager to tattle if she knew I ran into someone from my past.
“Now’s not a good time,” I say, turning back to her. “I can’t be seen talking to you.”
Dark brows spiking downward, she sets her hands on her hips. “Why not? What’s going on?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You think your life is complicated?” Snorting, she leans in to place her lips beside my ear. “I went into Witness Protection after you left.”
I jerk back. “What? Why? What about your brother?”
She laughs with a rather sad sound, as if she’s close to tears. “Long story. I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.” Then her playful mood shifts with a hard look. “Did your father find you? Is that why you left?”
