He turned me, urging my upper body down, with my hands pressed against the back of the shower. He moved behind me again, one arm around my waist, the other hand pressed to my clit as he slammed into me over, and over, and over until my thighs were trembling and I’d lost the strength to keep myself up. That was when he turned me around, hiking my legs around his waist to press me into the corner of the shower. We knocked into the shower sprayer, turning it right on us, but that was okay too.
Neither of us cared enough to move it.
He was buried in me so deep, pressed so close, our mouths fused so tightly together, he felt like a part of me I’d been missing without knowing it was gone. He stroked harder, faster, deeper, chasing whatever my body craved without me ever opening my mouth to say it. He just knew.
That freed my mouth for other things – kissing and moaning and yelling myself hoarse as he drove me right over my peak and kept going until he hit his. Even once we were done, we didn’t pull apart – we stayed like that, exchanges slow kisses until the water went cold, and we had to get out.
“Hey, hold up,” he called after me, when I tried to exit the bathroom in search of dry underwear. “I’m not done with you.” He put his arms around me again, pulling me close in front of the mirror.
“What do you mean?” I asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror's reflection.
I must’ve sounded a little too eager, because he smirked as he pressed his lips to my neck, offering a few kisses before he looked up again.
“Time for conditioner. Then dinner.”
Sixteen
After a week, Aly’s grandmother passed.
It happened the day Mos and I were supposed to meet her – Nadiah had referred to it as a double date. We all rode out there together, intending to spend time visiting, and then have dinner out somewhere, as a group. It sounded nice, and seemed like it would make Aly happy, so it was fine by me.
But when we got there, and Ruby was the one to meet us at the door, I knew something was wrong.
So did Aly.
In the days after that, she cried about it, but mostly she was resolute. I didn’t get the feeling she was just being strong for Nadiah – there was some of that, for sure, but this was something else.
Like she’d already conditioned herself into expecting it, so it wouldn’t hurt so bad.
That was the part that kinda fucked with me, but I’d realized long ago that it was what this world did to you – it was damn near a defense mechanism. If you already expected the worst to happen, maybe it would lessen the effects on you.
Maybe.
In the meantime, it was a fucked-up way to live.
I was worried about her.
But then, she broke down in the ruins.
That was where they spread their grandmother’s ashes, out into the water. It was a long hike – one Ches had an attitude about. To her, all she saw was me being off the grid yet again for a whole day. But after she pressed the issue, I made it clear I didn’t give a fuck.
When the day came, I woke up knowing where I would be.
By Aly’s side, while she and her sister paid their last respects.
The whole way there she was fine – it was the journey back that brought the breakdown.
And there wasn’t shit I could do to make it better.
By the time we made it back to the Burrows, it was late, and all she wanted to do was sleep. Since the sisters – understandably – didn’t want to be apart, I set them up in a bigger room than the one Nadiah had taken for herself, in the residential area of Ches’ compound. And then, I left them to their grieving.
Since Ches was blowing me the fuck up anyway.
Even though I wasn’t in the mood for whatever the hell might go on, I went anyway. I didn’t want to have ignored something that created a worse mess that I’d be the one cleaning up later. When Mos wanted to tag along with me, I didn’t object – something about Mos seemed to bring out her better behavior.
“It’s about goddamn time,” was the first thing out of her mouth when I walked through the door of her office. I was tempted to just turn around and walk right back out, but Mos clapped me on my shoulder, urging patience.
“What is it, Ches?” I asked, swallowing my agitation.
For Mosley’s sake.
Her nose wrinkled. “Really? That’s how you greet me now, no deference at all anymore?”
“Since when did deference become a requirement?” I countered, eyes narrowed. “What, you want me to bow to you or something?”
She stood, her bob swinging as she paced across the floor to where I was standing. “I want some goddamn respect. Ruby’s knights bow to her.”
Your ass ain’t Ruby.
I wanted to say that shit, bad, and another day maybe I would’ve. But I was tired, and emotionally drained already, and I just didn’t goddamn feel like doing this with her – since it seemed like all she wanted to do. So instead of saying the thing that would have taken a conversation I already didn’t want to have into a conversation I damn sure didn’t want to have, I said something else.
“That’s never been the dynamic here.”
Which was true.
In the entirety of her “reign”, Ches had never treated me like I was one of her “subjects”. I was the prince, the honored son and next in line to the throne, followed by Mos. Not that I was concerned about any perceived perks of that – outside of the obvious, of not being put in the position of an attack dog.
Or rather, a lap dog.
“What the hell do you mean, that’s never been the dynamic?” she asked, turning to walk away, back to her desk. “What do you think we’ve been doing here?”
I crossed my arms. “I think I’ve had your back – from the moment Baron set you up with all this, even though the way you did Ruby was foul.”
“You only think that because she made your dick hard. Your little crush had you under her spell.”
I chuckled. “Ches, a spell isn’t what made it dirty that you fucked your best friend’s husband to use him for power.”
“You call it dirty, I call it calculated. Shrewd. Getting what was mine, and you didn’t use to have an issue with doing what was necessary to keep it. Or do you wanna act like your hands aren’t dirty too?”
“I’ve never been on any snake shit Ches, and you know it. I’ve whooped ass, spilled blood, stolen, all that. Not proud of every moment, nah, but I got no problem admitting it. But fuck over somebody that trusted me? Nah – we’re not the same when it comes to that shit.”
Her nostrils flared as she shook her head. “No, we aren’t. You’ve changed.”
My face pulled into a scowl. “I’ve changed? You hear this shit, Mos?”
Across the room, Mos shrugged, making it clear he wasn’t trying to get pulled into it. I didn’t blame him. Hell, I wanted out.
“Are you denying it?” she asked. “Cause it’s plain as day – as soon as that little bitch showed up looking for her sister, you’ve been acting real different.”
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth,” I growled, sparking a half second of fear behind her eyes before she smirked.
“See? See?” she said, directing her words at Mos. “Watch my fuckin’ mouth?” she repeated. “Over a girl you’ve known… two months? Is the pussy that good, goddamn!”
“Ches, chill,” Mos urged, sitting forward in his chair. “Come on, this is us, you don’t have to get like this.”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” she snapped at him with a snarl. “You’ve been so busy face deep in that other girl’s pussy you’ve barely come up for air. I knew better than to let you have her.”
Mos drew his head back. “Let?”
“Yes, let,” she said. “You have a fucking job here, remember? I thought maybe she could help, but it looks like she’s just another distraction.”
“I’m here because I want to be, Ches,” Mos said, quietly–not to be confused with meek, or timid. He was mild, and no lie, I felt a certain responsibility to protect him.
But I’d also raised him to let nobody – not me, not Ches – walk over him. “The minute that changes, I will walk outta here and not look back – or what… you gonna force me to do something for you? Huh? Have you climbed so high you’re the slaver now?”
That seemed to bring her back to earth. Ches swallowed hard, shaking her head. “Mos, I—”
“I will slit whoever’s throat I have to – mine or yours – but I will never be controlled – mentally or physically – again. We have to be clear on that.”
“Of course, Mos,” she said, with a measured, sympathetic smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was upset, and I spoke out of turn – you’re free to do as you wish – I can only hope that those wishes still fall in line with our family’s best interests.”
So we’re family again now?
I fought the gaping urge to roll my eyes at that shit while Mos nodded.
“They always have. For me, and for Maddox.”
Ches didn’t bother with the fake smile when her gaze came back to me. “Is that right?”
I scoffed. “Yeah, believe it or not. Even though I thought your shit was foul, I rocked with you out of loyalty, and lately? Hell, I have been acting more in your ‘best interests’ than you have. I’m trying to keep a bullet out of your back.”
“Oh God,” she groaned. “Here you go again with this – how many times will I have to tell you – you don’t understand. Nobody likes a leader when they’re in the process of gaining power. But they either fall in line, or they get crushed underfoot.”
“How do you plan to make them?” I asked. “Fall in line, that is?”
She smiled. “I’m glad you asked.” With a huff, she rounded her desk, opening a drawer to pull a folder out. “From Division Four,” she said, pulling a glossy printed picture out, and laying it on top of the desk.
Weapons.
A lot of weapons.
“From four?” I asked, incredulous. “Sula Archer is gonna sell weapons to you, that’s what you’re telling me?”
She shook her head. “No. Sula Archer’s soldiers are.”
I looked at Mos to make sure I wasn’t losing it, but he was wearing the same skeptical expression I was. “That sounds like a setup.”
Something she should be familiar with, since over the last year she’d gotten good at it.
“It’s not,” she insisted. “I’ve done due diligence and made sure – they don’t care about loyalty – they care about money.”
“Which is gonna come from where, when all our shit is drying up because nobody wants to fuck with you anymore?” I asked. “This is what I’m talking about, Ches!”
“I will worry about that part,” she said, nodding. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but something about her sudden shift concerned me to the point of discomfort. “You just be ready to make this happen when I need you. I trust nobody else to do this for me. Give me a few weeks to get the money – you get the weapons. And get ready to turn my babies into an army.”
“Soldiers die.” I met her gaze, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. “Is that what you’re looking for? That’s what you want?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “But they know what they signed up for – sometimes casualties are necessary for war, and their sacrifice will not be in vain. Will you help me or not? I can get someone else to do it…”
“Nah,” I told her. “I got it.”
I’d studied, and practiced, and bled – I knew the ins and outs better than anyone she might convince to step up.
I would do it if for no other reasons than to save the lives of the people who’d stayed loyal to Ches.
“You sure you don’t need to run it by Aly first?”
I didn’t respond to that because it would only prolong a conversation I was already well past over. Instead, I turned, pushing my way through the doors of her office.
I needed to punch something.
I could smell blood as I walked into the warehouse.
From the outside, it looked abandoned, but you could hear the crowd, buzzing with commentary and excitement about the last fight. They were rowdy, and drunk, packed tight between the unfinished walls, crowding the bar for more of the free-flowing liquor they’d already paid for with the cover charge.
Another one of Ches’ enterprises.
But I wasn’t trying to think about that – I was focused on the smell of violence.
That shit was more than a little intoxicating, and I breathed it in, deep – blood, sweat, liquor, half-rusted metal from the cage. I pressed through the crowd, seeing nothing but my destination – the man standing off to side, with a mangled clipboard in his hand.
“Bash. What’s up?” I asked, shaking hands with him as I approached.
“Nigga, everything now that you came through – I should ask what’s up with you. You only show up when you’re working out aggression, and you’ve been here a lot,” he remarked, in his musical division four accent.
I shrugged. “Just trying to get what I can before you pack it up and move on,” I told him, which was half true. “What you got for me? Can you get me in?”
Bash scoffed. “You know better, Mad. We can always make room for your wild ass. Hell, I got a big motherfucker fresh outta the camps in ten, just itching for a fight. If you’re ready, you can go now.”
With no hesitation, I pulled off my sweatshirt. My hair was already out of the way.
“Always ready,” I told Bash, handing my stuff to Mosley, who’d followed me here from Underground. He took it without a word, knowing it was useless to talk me out of it. “Let’s go.”
“Yooooo!” Sebastian screamed into the mic he’d had tucked into his pocket. “We got Maddox Hatcher in the building one more fucking time. Place your bets now.”
He said some shit about my impending opponent – shit I didn’t care about, so I tuned him out. It didn’t matter who it was – what mattered was that in just a few minutes, I’d get to work all my frustration with Ches out on someone trying to do the same thing, which made it equitable.
The crowd wanted entertainment, Bash wanted to make a cut off of it, I wanted to kick somebody’s ass, and whoever was coming in this ring with me wanted their ass kicked.
It was a perfect setup.
Everybody left a winner.
Once upon a time, I’d gone into the cage for fun – for the thrill of broken bones and splattered blood, for the pussy thrown at me because I’d won, for that status of being the man on top. Now though, it was different. Win or lose – once you stepped out, you were too tired to be pissed anymore.
The shit was therapy now.
They closed me in with some big motherfucker that looked like two big motherfuckers put together. That was fine though – he may have been bigger than me, but being big made him slow, and he didn’t seem to be that bright either.
His big ass could hit though.
I discovered that when I stumbled backward a little, dodging a different blow. He landed the second, which I hadn’t seen coming, catching me under the chin with a jab that made my teeth rattle.
Wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Not in my damn face. I took a few body shots, enjoying the numbing quality of the pain that came after, but I knew better than to do that too often. Only when I needed the opening, knowing he pulled back from his blows so slowly it gave me time to land three or four of my own. In between those, I kept him moving around the ring, tiring his big ass out while I jabbed and crossed, rearranging his face to a satisfying pulp.
Bare hands.
Bare feet.
No protective gear, none of that shit.
Just bruised, bloody knuckles, sore ribs, and a swollen jaw, by the time Bash stepped into the ring, holding my arm up to declare me the winner while my big lump of an opponent lay motionless at my feet.
I felt a lot better.
Much of that good feeling – that endorphin high – dissipated as soon as I stepped out of the ring. I was searching the crowd
for Mos, ready to have a drink or two and then get the fuck out of there.
My gaze fell on Aly instead.
I could have handled it much better if the look on her face was horror. That was a common reaction to watching people draw blood from each other on purpose. And that reaction wasn’t wrong – the shit was barbaric, honestly.
That wasn’t it though.
Maybe it was still the grief of spreading her grandmother’s ashes earlier, or maybe she was tired, or confused, or maybe I was trying to find any explanation other than the obvious.
She looked disappointed.
That fucked with me.
A lot.
Or maybe I was projecting.
Whatever it was, she didn’t crack the slightest smile as I climbed down, to move toward where she, Mos, and Nadiah were standing. Wordlessly, she handed me the stuff I’d originally given Mos, and I put it all on, swallowing the burning question in my mind, since I would’ve had to shout it to ask it.
What the hell are they doing here?
A familiar face – two familiar faces – caught my attention at the bar, answering the question for me anyway.
Goddamn twins.
“Do you wanna go?” was the question I did ask, when Aly’s face still hadn’t changed by the time I was dressed again. She reached up, swiping a hand along my jaw, and when she pulled back, her fingers were streaked with blood.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I wanna go.”
So we left.
We walked back to my place in overwhelming silence I didn’t know how to counteract because I wasn’t sure what was going on in her head. As I walked, my knuckles raw and stinging in the cold air, going to the cages seemed like less and less of a good idea.
I felt like shit.
Mentally, and physically now.
At my place, Aly still had nothing to say. She took me to the bathroom and tugged me outta my clothes and hers, and we showered. She cleaned my bleeding hands, and bandaged them, and bandaged the cut on my jaw too. And then, on my couch, she sat and looked me right in the face, finally asking a question.
Wonder Page 20
