by Elena Monroe
He smirked at me, handing me his phone with a remote app for the TV hanging on the wall that I just now noticed. It was a painting a few moments ago.
Vic turned over, almost instantly falling asleep and slightly snoring, when I realized I was spending the night with a guy… and it wasn’t for sex.
I was here out of sheer will, and it was causing a panic inside of me. I didn’t recognize myself right now, and that made my breath get caught in my throat keeping me from exhaling.
Choking on the truth, I needed to distract myself, and my phone was dead. Instead, I pulled up YouTube and found a video to watch. I wasn’t even being picky when my finger landed on some beautiful girl doing her makeup in front of the camera.
A few minutes into the video, a text message appeared across the top, making the phone buzz in my hand.
CAROLINE: Are you sure? Still on for tomorrow?
I debated not texting back, but everything in me shook with the idea of him fucking other girls while I was the one that he kissed.
Having to scroll up, I read his previous message: Services are no longer needed. I have terminated all contracts.
Channeling my best Vic, I typed out a message in response.
ME: Yes, I’m sure. No longer needed.
I was sure… or so I thought. On one hand, I wanted him all to myself, and on the other, I didn’t want him to change me.
It was nice, feeling like a trophy, but only if I stayed gold. I wasn’t going to suddenly become silver or bronze because you couldn’t handle me anymore.
Letting myself lean into his sleeping body, he adjusted laying on his back, giving into me feeling territorial without even knowing it. Before I settled, I leaned up, kissing his cheek, letting myself mull over the idea of intimacy without sex.
I woke up with his arm around me and my face nuzzled in his nook, when I looked at the phone balancing on his chest.
At some point, I must have used him as a table.
Getting out of there all too quickly, I jumped into my jeans and manipulated my cami and flannel into a ball of fabric until I got to my bag.
I knew I was making a mistake, but his dangerously blue eyes had me dazed and confused. His full lips whispered nothing but hopes that he was willing to turn into realities, and I was falling for everything he said.
I couldn’t let him be the reason I felt safe.
I couldn’t let him protect me.
I couldn’t let him convince me that I wasn’t living, just because I chose to fight instead.
If he wanted to keep kissing me, it was going to be by my rules—no changing me.
Not even for the better.
I was already not acting like myself by being here, and I didn’t consent to any changes.
Shoving my clothes into my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and bolted for the elevator. I felt like I couldn’t breathe in his space anymore, and when the doors closed, I finally took in a deep breath, relaxing a bit.
Pulling out my dead phone, I stomped my foot with a growl as the doors poured out into a lobby. Thankfully, a man in a black suit was at the desk who could call me an Uber or let me charge my phone enough to call one myself.
“Do you need some help, Miss?” His voice was delicate and smooth putting a small amount of my anxiety at ease.
After explaining I needed an Uber, he looked back at the elevator, taking into consideration where I had come from, before he offered up assistance. I got it. Most places would assume I couldn’t afford to be there, and Vic’s building reeked above my pay grade. There was even a fountain behind me trying to set a mood that I met with an eye roll.
“Right away, Miss Rockefeller.”
Jolted by his assumption, I thought about all of the girls who probably breezed through here at all hours. There was no way he actually thought I was with Vic in a way that earned me his last name.
Looking down at his shirt, I noticed it said Servants of Patmos Boarding School for the Elite with a python and his name stamped in the corner. No wonder he thought more of me than the other girls. None of them left with pieces of him, and I did.
I opened my mouth to explain, but I was too tired to lodge into some argument that we wouldn’t benefit from. Only my ego and pride would, but neither needed any more attention tonight.
Opting to wait for my ride outside, it didn’t take long. It wasn’t that late, but my buzz was still wearing off, leaving that sleepy feeling behind. Once I got home, I immediately poured myself into my bed, exhausted from the day that seemed to never end.
Anal.
Khaos walking in.
Abigail.
A boy band reunion.
Bad news.
A few shots later, and Vic almost convinced me that I can be loved.
And finally, in my own bed, ready to pass out.
JUSTICE
Waking up didn’t have me feeling like first place at all. I was nursing a headache the moment I opened my eyes, and I was pretty sure there wasn’t enough coffee in the world that would cure it.
Still in Vic’s shirt, I could smell his cologne so much more without the haze of being drunk. Looking down, I saw the swim team words curve around the snake and wondered if I knew that about him already or not.
I knew he was a winner, but I didn’t know it was laser focused, like a team sport. Something about envisioning him in tight swim trunks was spurring up the ache he left me with the night before.
A head rush of moments filled my head of him telling me how wrong I was living my own damn life. Says the guy who used me as a first kiss.
Getting out of bed, I rummaged through my drawers, finding a neon pink leopard mini skirt with a slit up the leg that wasn’t work appropriate at all. This game of war we were playing was coming to a head, and this was a last ditch effort to win. It clashed with his baby blue Patmos Boarding School swim shirt, but that was the cherry on top of pissing him off. He would hate it. Stepping into my beat up Converse, I looked in the mirror, while twisting the front of the shirt to make it cropped, still sans any bra or panties.
Casualties of war.
Looking at my face, clean of makeup, per usual, I decided today was the day I break out the gloss. Smearing it along my cheek bone, lips, and eyelids, I watched it highlight all the ways Vic was going to lose his shit today.
I wasn’t work ready, and it was obvious. When Vic saw me, he was going to get the same kind of protective he did last night, and that would be when I would make my final move.
Before I bow, of course.
Realizing the time, I practically ran out of my place to catch the bus that stopped at the corner to make it to work on time now that I took much longer looking in the mirror than I normally do.
Once the bus stopped on the corner of another street, I walked the few blocks to the garage, which was truly the only way in if you had a badge and wanted to avoid security. As soon as I walked in, I noticed Vic, Bowen, and security standing next to a black van that reminded me of the asshole Dante from the other night.
There was a gloomy tone to them standing there, almost waiting for something. I didn’t know what, but whatever it was had this sweetly dangerous taste to it that made me want to volunteer.
Almost skipping up to Vic, I took the coffee cup out of his hands, letting him look me over as I leaned against the railing, waiting for instructions. Normally he was in his office, so having him in this dirty garage was throwing my whole routine off.
“What are you wearing?” His voice sounded serious, but his lips were curled up at the edges.
“Don’t like it?” I twirled around, making Bowen cough out an insult he didn’t have the balls to say out loud between Vic and I clearly being fight ready.
Taking big steps towards me, he stopped right in front of me, while I hopped on the railing, letting my long legs dangle there, keeping my knees together, but showing him enough to drool over the fact that there were no panties peeking out from underneath.
“You’re wearing my shirt with my name
on it… and no panties. Did you think I wouldn’t like it? Was there a point to this exhibition?”
I felt it, the scarlet warmth working its ways to my cheeks and choke holding my pale skin. I wanted him to feel as achy as I felt, while putting him in his place, but all I did was serve myself up as a dessert.
Sliding off of the metal railing, I landed on my feet with a jump in the small space between us, almost flush against him. “Yes, there is a point. I’m consenting to having you drool over me. You know what I’m not consenting to? You force feeding me some idea that if I change you’ll like me better.”
I watched his face tighten, his jaw made of stone, and his hands balled up at his side. He was being overly strong, and I was still feeling weak after now projecting every ounce of my own shit on him.
“Consent is permission, Justice. If you aren’t giving me permission, then it isn’t going to happen, making your argument fall a little flat. Wanna try again, or just accept the fact that we like each other more than we like ourselves?”
Bending his head down, he pushed my hair behind my ear, whispering so only I could hear, “It’s not losing if we both agree.”
He didn’t even breathe in my reaction or rebuttal when he pushed off and turned on his heel, speaking at a normal tone again.
“We’re going on a field trip. Bowen has other business, so he can’t attend.”
I was still too consumed by Vic’s rendition of a peace treaty to say anything, but the idea of trouble on the horizon was getting my blood pumping in a different way.
VIC
She whined at the idea of a field trip out of the office, while she sipped on my coffee. Justice didn’t love trouble as much as it loved her; that was the misconception about her no one saw at first glance.
No one could see anything but her long legs at first glance right now.
She hated trouble for everything it was, but somehow trouble was a friend that was just too clingy.
I normally didn’t let anyone near the business I did outside the four walls of the Clave, but spending more time with Justice was a priority I wasn’t willing to part with.
It was the only way I was going to convince her if we couldn’t love ourselves that we had to do it for each other. I was sick of hating myself. I was motivated to make sure Justice never got to the place I lived in—that kind of hate that forces you to be someone that you really aren’t.
All is fair in love and war? Well, she was a trophy that was going to snuff out all other wins.
It was early in the morning and the coffee she hijacked from my grip was barely touched, so I understood how she got stuck on autopilot to my normal ride when she sat down on the hood of my Porsche.
“Peace Corps, field trips are in this,” I spoke, standing next to a murdered out SUV that looked meaner than most cars.
Still whining, “You have more than one car? Seriously?”
“You don’t need to educate me. I can hear all of your arguments in my head: carbon emissions, I’m contributing to gas prices, the parts don’t decompose, and noise pollution. Got it, now get in.”
She smirked around her coffee lid, almost impressed that her words were in my head before she even had a chance to say them.
No one was more impressed than me. Justice managed to haunt me day in and day out.
I was so far gone I was appeasing her voice in my head when she wasn’t even around, like this morning at Starbucks when I axed the idea of a straw.
“Well, at least I know you’re listening…” She stared at me, actually letting me open the car door for her without an eye roll. She hated needing anyone. Elbowing the SUV’s open door, I watched as she sat facing me, her legs dangling and rubbing together in her very short leopard skirt stopping me from telling her to keep arms and legs in the vehicle at all times.
The slit showed off even more of her thigh and my Patmos swim team shirt could have balanced it all by being oversized, but being Justice, she had tied it tightly to her body. More material in her shirt wouldn’t change the way Bowen’s eyes had looked her over. The shirt didn’t matter; I was still stuck on her long legs rubbing at the knee under my gaze.
“You’re staring, Vicy…” Her voice was smooth and taunting.
Shifting myself inside the door, her legs still dangling, my hands found the back of her knees and yanked her forward against the leather.
“They can admire you all they want, but I’m laying a stake.”
She was making a point, a distraction. After seeing her come undone, she needed to remind me that she was still invincible.
It’s empowering to put yourself out there and deny everyone grabbing at you. It fed the ego, the invincible armor, and the defenses that really just looked pretty, but did no real damage.
“You can’t claim me, Vic. This isn’t some historical romance.”
“Nothing about you is demure or meek, Justice, but I have ways of ruining you for other men. You’ll have no other choice but to give into me.”
My hands ran down her thighs, and her legs stayed pinned to my hips without any support. It was voluntary in every sense of the word.
Pretty soon, she’d forfeit and let me take the war.
My palms found the leather of the seat next to her ass, pushing into her and giving her no choice to lean back with me. Her hands tugged at my collar and buttons enough to sneak her lips into my neck.
“Ruin me,” she whispered against my skin so quietly I thought I imagined it.
“Can you guys do that after you see Dante? We don’t keep repeat customers waiting.” The familiar voice, Bowen’s creepily quiet ass, tore through the heat between us. Suddenly I was hyper aware of his presence close by.
Pulling myself upright, my forearms found the edging of the door frame, trying to give her some privacy from him by obstructing his vision.
He didn’t deserve to see her turned on. No one did except me.
Shifting in her seat, I watched her trying to push it all down, while shaking off being this worked up. Turning towards Bowen, finally I closed the car door, making sure her legs were for my eyes only.
“Dante is my client. He’ll wait as long as I want him to. Don’t you have girls coming in tonight? Shouldn’t you be preparing?”
I wasn’t sure if he could be trusted the way I trusted him before I knew he was hiding some kind of truth from me.
Finally backing down, he scoffed and walked away. He knew better than to challenge me. We were too equally matched and both one sharp remark away from gutting each other. Rounding the car, I got behind the wheel heading for Sins and Forgiveness, where the exchange point always was.
S&F was ours. We owned it and we controlled it. It was our territory.
“Where are we going?” Justice twisted around, her knees digging into the leather and her ass in the air, looking into the backseat before I could stop her. “What’s in the trunks?”
I heard the latch snap open, and I knew her silence was a sign of my own apocalypse. Fuck the fact that I was conquest, she was life and death wrapped up in a pretty package.
“Justice-”
She cut off my words turning around with a grenade in her palm. “Wanna explain why you have weapons in the back seat?”
Sitting up straighter, I plucked the grenade from her palm, while keeping one hand on the wheel to drive. “You really can’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?” Dropping the grenade in my lap, I balanced it between my legs, knowing it wouldn’t actually go off without the pin being tampered with. “I saw the text you sent to Caroline.”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, looking for her reaction. She sat there squirming in the guilt.
“And? I sent a text message reiterating what you had already said. I didn’t kidnap you and stockpile weapons in the backseat,” she snapped, but I could tell she was embarrassed by the color coming to her cheeks.
“And you left in the middle of the night. I feel kind of robbed, which is equivalent to kidnapped, so we’re even.”
Waiting for her to argue with me, I was pleasantly shocked by her silence. She never let me have the last word, even if I was right.
S&F wasn’t open, and without the neon cursive, it looked like just another building. It would be pretty damn hard to tell it’s a club that specializes in getting your hands dirty.
Putting the SUV in park behind the building, Justice’s eyes darted around, trying to gather any kind of clues she could.
“What is this place?”
“You walk in with the intent to sin and leave begging for forgiveness…” I was telling the truth, just not the whole truth.
She didn’t say anything, just stared out the window, and then she moved to pull the door handle. Stopping her, I said, “Stay in the car. I don’t need to worry about your grabby hands.”
Dante got out of the unmarked car on the other side of the parking lot in his trench coat, fitted dress pants, and black button-up, showing his scars randomly placed on his exposed skin.
I had been working with Dante since the four of us stepped into our positions at the Clave, yet I knew virtually nothing about him.
I knew his favorite guns; I knew his taste in women; and I knew he liked to break things just to put them back together.
That was all I knew.
I could smell the conquest on him; it was a rich smell that didn’t hit your nostrils easily. It’s determined, relentless, and calls you a loser if you take a big inhale.
He had some age on me, but it didn’t look like much. More experience than years with his blonde hair pushed back, but not combed neatly—the only messy part of him, except the scars. His eyes were the part of him that made a shiver crawl up your spine; the gun metal color seemed unnatural.
Not listening, Justice had vacated her seat and was rounding the car, stopping at my side in her eye-catching skirt I hadn’t forgotten about. I sighed. I had told her to stay in the car for a reason.
His boys opened the back of the Mercedes square van, ready to unload the trunks in my car, when I saw his eyes trace every bend and curve on Justice. Everything in me tightened instantly.