by Huss, JA
“Camera crew was here too,” Ryan adds to deepen the blow. “Scott is useful as a townie cop, he ran them off. But they’re not far. He called me a little while ago and said they regrouped at the courthouse.”
I put up my hand and walk away. The place is deathly silent, the only sound the echo of my boots across the polished concrete floors. Everyone is staring at me as I pass. Fletch and Griff. Larry. Two camera crews. I swallow hard and walk into my office, closing the door and flipping the blinds on the window so no one can see me.
I sit in my chair. This executive fucking leather chair that screams success.
And I swear to God, the only thing I want right now is one more carefree summer day with Ronnie.
Two years ago
Her tan is almost as golden as her hair as she lies face down on the beach, the midday sun blazing down on her perfect body. She’s topless, but that’s OK. This beach is private. The look on her face… I chuckle to myself as I walk towards her with a couple of ice-cold beers in my hands.
“How can you afford this?” she asks, looking around with wide eyes.
“I got a deal,” I say back.
And I guess I did. This island was reserved last year before my team and I were busted for murder. We were spending some of the money we stole. Not a lot. But enough to reserve this island for Ronin and I to celebrate our graduation.
Of course, all that other shit went down and yeah, I haven’t even talked to Ronin in over a year. But I’m the one who made the reservation, the money came from my account. My Bombshell has never been to the Florida Keys, so here we are.
I drip cold water from the beer bottle on Ronnie’s back and she jumps, turns, flashes me her giant tits, and then turns over on her back and reaches for the beer. She lifts her head just enough to take a sip and then burrows the bottle into the sand and relaxes back again.
“Happy?” I ask.
“So, so happy,” she replies, her eyes closed.
“You love me for my beach access, don’t you?”
She wiggles a little in the sand, smiling and blushing. This is a game we play. You love me for…
“I love you for your big cock.”
I bust out laughing. “You love me for my bikes, don’t you?”
“I love you for your talented tongue on my pussy.”
I shake my head this time. “You love me for my farmhouse, and my redneck trucks, and my beat-up barn, don’t you?”
She sits up this time and I reach for her tits.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she purrs.
I pull her into my lap and lift her breast to my mouth and suck. “Yes,” she says again. “The farmhouse, the dirty-ass barn, the redneck trucks, your tongue, your big cock, your perfectly muscled Greek-god body, your money, your tattoos—even though I’m the one who did them—your brain, your business sense, your bikes…” She pauses to laugh. “And the way you fuck me with paint every now and then.”
I release her nipple from my mouth and go to work on her lips. They are soft and lush. Plump, even. I bite the lower one and she laughs into my mouth.
“Do it again,” she whispers.
God, this woman says the most normal things in the most seductive way.
“Devour me, Spencer.”
My hands leave her breasts. One slides up her back and slips under her hair to palm her neck. The other dips down between her ass cheeks. She squirms against my hand as I pull her pink bikini bottoms aside. I slip a finger into her wetness and begin with long, slow strokes.
“Easy and soft,” I say as she buries her head in my neck and begins to suck. That shit drives me crazy. She makes my whole body erupt in sensations that no woman has ever made me feel. It’s not just horny. It’s a whole other level of desire. It’s love.
“Baby,” she whispers.
The Bombshell likes to talk during sex now. When we first met it was like pulling teeth to get her to say anything but yes, and oh my God. But now…
“You’re so hard for me, baby,” she whispers. I like the whispers. She pulls away from my neck. Fuck me, she mouths silently.
I love the silent fuck mes even more.
But I shake my head. “Hard for me, baby? That’s amateur shit. That’s week two shit. I’m looking for graduation-day shit.”
She bites her lip and then the tip of her tongue begins to caress the center of her upper lip. “Do you know what I thought about when you walked up on stage at graduation?”
“You were proud of my academic accomplishments?” I tease.
“I thought about your cock, pressing against your jeans under your black gown. I thought about how my mouth was caressing it a few minutes earlier as you took me in the car in the parking lot.”
“Did you think about people watching us?”
“Mmmm,” she hums against my neck. “I saw a man peeking in the front windshield of the truck. He grabbed himself.”
“Fuck, did he really?” I’m sorta appalled.
“Spencer,” she laughs into my ear. “Stop, I need a fuck. How can I earn a fuck if you refuse to let me be serious?”
I lift her off me and lay her down in the sand. “Did you really see a guy watching us?”
“Yes.”
“Did it turn you on?”
“Yes, as long as you were the only one touching me, his watching for a few seconds was… exhilarating.”
“We’re probably being watched right now.”
She cranes her neck up to look around. We are on a private island, but it’s small and there are many other small islands nearby. Not to mention boats constantly traveling between them.
“Should we go inside?”
She shakes her head and bites her lip. “No, baby. I’m not done with my story. There’s something else I never told you about graduation day.”
“Oh, you’re holding out on me, Bomb. You wicked, wicked little tramp.”
She shushes me with a finger. “Now listen,” she says, once more in her dirty-talk whisper. “Because I was very bad that night.”
I lift my eyebrows. “I know, Rons. I was there. We fucked in the back yard, under the moonlight.”
“Mmm-hmm. But I had a camera hidden away in the trees.”
“Are you serious?” I blurt, once again breaking her sexy seduction.
“Spencer!” She smacks me on the arm. “Stop!”
I seize her tiny wrists and lean into her mouth. “Are you telling me we have a sex tape and I haven’t watched it yet?”
She laughs. “Do you want to watch a sex tape of us?”
My hands wrap around her face. “Yes, baby. Did you bring it?”
Her nod starts out enthusiastic and my heart races as I picture all the dirty things we did in the backyard that night. But then her yes turns into a no. “What? Yes or no, Bomb. You’re killing me here!”
She leans over and grabs her beach bag, pulling out a little video camera. “I never made a sex tape of that night. But I’d like to make one now. In full daylight. On this beach.” She looks around for boats and they are all far away. “I don’t care who sees you take me, Spencer Shrike. I’m yours. Only yours. They can look, but they can’t touch. I want to talk dirty for you on camera. I want you to record my screams as your cock unloads inside me. I want to film you eating my pussy, and then turn the camera on me and film my face when you make me come. I want—”
I grab the camera and turn it on, then hand it back and take my shirt off. “Action, Bombshell.”
Chapter Nineteen - Spencer
Yeah, those were the good old days. When Ronnie and I could just kick back on a beach, drink beer, and think about nothing except fucking and what’s for dinner.
My daydream is interrupted by a knock on my door. “Spencer?” Ronin calls as he opens it a crack. “Can I come in?”
The boys must’ve warned him about my mood when he came in the shop. “Yeah,” I say back.
He opens the door, enters, and then shuts it behind him. “They’ve got a new witness.”
“I
heard,” I mumble back.
“Rook’s gonna come off looking pretty bad.”
“Yup. That’s about how it’s looking right now.”
Ford bursts through the door, no polite can-I-come-in knock from him. “Ashleigh’s with Rook in the lunchroom. Kate’s asleep.” He paces the room a few times and then stops and looks straight at me. “I’m feeling paranoid, Spencer. I’m feeling trapped. I’m feeling like we’re being set up.”
Ronin flops down on the couch and bends over to hold his head in his hands.
I stare out the window. “Ashleigh’s sister was just here. Talking shit about Tony and his parents. She didn’t say who’s behind the adoption thing.”
When I look back at Ford his expression says it all. That look says he’s scared. That look says this shit is not pretend.
Ford’s got it all right now. A wife he loves and who loves him back. A beautiful baby to take care of. A big house in a quiet neighborhood filled with designer shit. A job working with all his favorite people. And if there’s one lesson the three of us have learned, the more you have, the more you have to lose.
It’s scary as fuck. And isn’t it better to have nothing? Isn’t it better to have nothing to lose than to have everything, and know it’s all gonna disappear?
I think it is.
“Rook’s testimony,” Ronin reminds us. “What’s she supposed to say when this guy says she chose to stay with Jon?”
Silence. What can she say?
“We’re so fucked,” I say. “She’s never gonna convince anyone of anything. Do you remember how many times we had to have her go over the details when we pinned all this shit on Abelli in the first place, Ford? And there was no one to cross-examine her.” I look over at Ronin and he’s pale. The truth of what we’re into is finally sinking in. For all of us. “Last fall, Ronin? That was just a statement. It was pre-school shit compared to what they’re gonna do to her next week when she takes the stand.”
“We only have one option,” Ford says. “She needs to tell the truth. Whatever the truth is about why she stayed, Ronin, that’s what she needs to say. That’s the only thing she’s got left. We need that jury to buy her story about Abelli and Jon one hundred fucking percent, otherwise we’re all going down. Otherwise all that shit she said about what happened in Boulder is back on the table. And if the jury decides we’re lying about what happened in Boulder, not only might this asshole walk, but the Feds might think we’re the ones behind all this shit. Not Jon. Not Abelli. Not that fuckup in Boulder. Us. And how fucking ironic would it be for us to get pinned with their dirty shit?”
We’re silent again. “What’s the truth, Ronin? Did she say why she stayed?” I hate to ask it—I mean, I’m on Rook’s side—but you know, when someone comes and says they want to save you from an evil monster, most people get on board with that.
I look over at him when he doesn’t answer.
“We could say she was psychologically traumatized,” Ford offers.
“She probably was,” I agree. “But that doesn’t make her a reliable witness. We need that jury to buy into a lot of fucking lies. A lot of fucking lies. And her name is on that property, Ronin. She was half owner of the property where those girls were being sold. And then this witness comes in and says he tried to help her get away and she said no?”
I’m quiet to see if Ford will fill in the blanks for me, but he doesn’t. “Ronin.” I wait until he looks up at me. And God, it breaks my heart to see him so defeated, but he needs to hear the truth. “She’s going to jail if that guy testifies.” I look over at Ford and he’s got his hand over his mouth as he listens. “She’s going to jail for a long fucking time. We need a goddamned miracle at this point.”
Ronin pulls his phone out and texts someone. He waits for a reply and then sits back on the couch. A few seconds later there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Ronin calls.
Rook peeks her head in, then swallows hard like she knows what’s coming. She slips in and closes the door behind her. Ronin stays silent and even I’m beginning to squirm.
“Should I sit?” Rook asks.
Ronin looks up at me. “We can’t just sit back and take it, Spencer. We gotta try, at least. So she’s gonna talk and you’re gonna find the holes. Got it?”
I nod.
Ronin turns back to Rook. “I want all of it this time, Rook. Not the bits and pieces you’ve told us so far. OK?”
She looks terrified, but Ronin grabs her hand and pulls her onto his lap. “Gidget, we’re on your side. OK? We’re not gonna judge you. But we need you to be honest with us, because if we don’t get this perfect, we might all go to jail.”
He stresses all and when I look over at Ford I can tell he’s picturing what might happen to Ash and Kate if he goes away to prison. At least I’ve kept Ronnie out of this. If I go away, yeah, she’ll be upset. But she’s independent. She’s a fighter. A survivor. Ronnie will be sad, but she’ll be able to move on. She won’t fall into a depression and be left with only her criminal family to rely on. And Rook in prison? God, she’ll never make it.
“Understand?” Ronin asks Rook.
She buries her face in his neck and nods.
“Now,” Ronin says as he lifts her off his lap and sets her down on the couch next to him. “Tell us why you stayed when that guy said he’d help you. Were you pregnant?”
“No,” she says in her small, scared voice. “It was after I lost the baby.”
“Were you scared?”
She shakes her head again. “I was scared,” she says, contradicting her body language.
That’s not gonna fly at all. The jury will pick up on things like that. The defense will jump on that shit so fast. And it’s intuitive. Whether people know it or not, they pick up on the lies with these small cues.
“I was scared,” she continues, “that Jon would find me if I left. Come take me back and be even more violent. But the truth is—” She looks over at Ford, then me. “I was embarrassed that I was in this situation to begin with. I was embarrassed that I let him turn me into that person I was back then. I was ashamed that I was part of this sleazy underground world of sex slaves. Even if those girls were there willingly in the beginning and I was duped into believing they were all there because they liked that stuff, I was ashamed to be part of it.”
Ronin looks over at me.
I just shake my head no. Not good enough. “I get it, Ronin. It makes sense. And they can call in experts to testify that Rook’s reaction was normal, because it is. After years of abuse like that, her mind was not right. But we don’t want experts convincing the jury she’s OK. We need Rook convincing the jury she’s OK. We need them to trust her. And this explanation makes her look weak and stupid.”
We sit in silence. Each of us thinking about her mistakes. About all our mistakes.
“I thought he’d do the same things to me,” Rook admits a few seconds later. “I thought that guy was lying and he was gonna take me somewhere far away and sell me. Or rape me. And yeah, Jon was a monster. But he was the monster I knew. He made me have sex with him and he beat the shit out of me, but he never let anyone else abuse me. So I thought this cop friend was just another one of Jon’s business associates. I mean, probably deep down I knew he wasn’t. But the paranoia took over and once that idea got in my head, I couldn’t get it out.” She looks over at me. “I swear to God, Spencer, I know it’s sick, but I just figured I was better off understanding my place in Jon’s world than taking a chance on this stranger. I didn’t want to go through that again. I didn’t want to have to accept that my life was changing and it was only getting worse. I could deal with the fact that one man raped and beat me, but anyone else doing it but Jon would break me completely. I just couldn’t take the chance that he’d be nice.”
Ronin pulls her close and wraps a protective hand around her head. Then he looks up at me with questions in his eyes.
“Better. That’s better. Much better than the first one. It’s still a
pretty bad answer, but it makes her look sympathetic instead of weak.”
“Pam.” All our heads collectively turn to Ford as he talks into his phone. “Find me the best witness prep specialist you can. I need them delivered to Fort Collins by Friday.” He stops to listen. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll cover all costs.” He presses end on the phone and then lets out a deep breath.
“I don’t want to cheat,” Rook says. “I don’t want to have to lie to win anymore.”
I agree. And I think Ford and Ronin feel the same way. We can’t go on living like this. We can’t. This shit needs to be settled.
“It’s not cheating,” Ford says calmly. “The defense is using the same tactics. And I’m sure the Feds will have you talk to witness prep anyway. We’re just gonna get our own. To protect our interests only and fuck the rest of them. OK?” He looks over at me, then Ronin. “Because those guys in that courtroom do not give two shits about Rook and how this will affect her. They want to win. And if they have to make her look like an evil slave seller and put her behind bars in the process, they will.”
No one says anything after that, just a few awkward moments of silence.
“OK, on to new business,” Ford says. “Enough of this ‘we’re out’ crap. We’ve got a new job going down tomorrow, Spencer, come up with a plan.”
It’s absurd. It’s just totally absurd to talk about honesty and truth in one breath and then plot out how we’re gonna slip a spy cam out of my competitor’s garage in the next.
But fuck it. We’re in. We’re in deep. And we’ve only got two choices… sink or swim.
Rook looks at Ronin. Ronin looks at me. I look at Ford.
We start swimming.
Chapter Twenty - Spencer