Twisted with Chaos: A CASH BAR NOVEL

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Twisted with Chaos: A CASH BAR NOVEL Page 14

by Faiman, Hayley


  The man at the gate looks down at me but doesn’t speak as he opens the slow creaky gate. I don’t ask him why he’s so willing to let me out when he knows the clubhouse is on lockdown. It doesn’t matter. My mind is spinning so quickly right now that I couldn’t put together a coherent sentence anyway.

  Turning to the right, I begin to walk. My feet take me away from the clubhouse and with each step, I can breathe a little deeper. I don’t know that what I’m doing is necessarily the right thing, but it’s what needs to happen. I need to save them.

  He will never be happy with you. A voice whispers on the wind. “I know,” I agree.

  When my legs ache, when I think that all of this is for naught. When I decide that Dimples has fucked me over, that’s when it happens.

  A car pulls up the long dusty road. It’s black, an SUV, and it doesn’t have its lights on. It doesn’t stop until it’s right in front of me. The engine stays on. The door opens, and I hear the sound of shoes crunching in the gravel as someone climbs out. Then the door slams closed and my breath escapes me.

  “Roxanne.” His voice is a low thick timbre.

  It should frighten me. God knows he’s fucking scary. I’m not scared. I’m at peace. My hell is just about to begin, but my Notorious Devils, and they are mine, they will be safe.

  “You promise to leave them alone?” I ask.

  He chuckles, his head moving from side-to-side. “You are in no place to bargain, girl,” he points out.

  I lift my chin, my only attempt at strength and defiance. “Just promise me that the Devils and their families will be safe,” I whisper.

  His eyes, black as coal, roam over my face. He nods once. “Okay, then. I’ll pull the boys away from them. They’ll have their freedom.”

  “Why me?” I ask.

  He takes a step toward me, that familiar scent of oil and leather invading my senses, reminding me far too much of Houston. Yet, he’s nothing like him. Not in the slightest. I don’t know his name. I’ve only seen him once. But I remember his face, the way he watched me, and the determined look in his eyes when everything went down all those months ago.

  “Skull picked her. I picked you. He wasn’t very smart, couldn’t be patient,” he murmurs, lifting his hand and cupping my cheek.

  My skin crawls with his touch. I hate him. I hate the sight of him. I hate what he stands for, but most of all I hate myself for hurting Houston this way. It will kill him. Knowing I’ve done this, it will destroy him, yet I take this man’s offered hand and I follow behind him. Climbing into his SUV, not surprised to see the pale, shaved-headed men in the front seat.

  “Call Règle, tell him that the Notorious Devils are no longer his mission. I’ll have something new for him soon.”

  The man in the passenger seat pulls out his phone, the other man focuses on driving and the one across from me watches me. “You’re the leader, of what? The Aryans and La Foule?” I ask.

  “Former Devil, current leader. Makes for an interesting background, right?” he chuckles.

  “In Montana, you didn’t look like one of the leaders.”

  He chuckles, his teeth slightly yellowed, his laugh sounding as if he definitely enjoys his smokes. His black eyes take me in, they are warmish, not so evil looking at this moment.

  “A leader is not always the man who is the loudest, Roxanne. I saw the fire in you and knew that I wanted to break you. See the women who came to me from the compound, they were already all broken. That’s why both you and Carson appealed to us.”

  “You could have anyone, I’m sure,” I whisper.

  He nods. “I can, I do, and I will continue to do so,” he informs. My stomach rolls at the entire concept. I’m so stupid. So, so stupid. “Dimples wanted something different. I dropped her off, told her to get you right where you are with little to no fight. She agreed because Dimples wanted your man. Switch and bait,” he winks.

  “I still don’t understand, why all of this just for me?”

  He shrugs. “Not just for you. Dimples is now there, along with the prospect that is one of ours, the one who opened the gate. They report back to me regularly. You, my whore, were just the cherry on top of the cake. Big Sky is gone, the compound there is gone. We need to rebuild. There are no more leaders, so it’s up to me to build this from the ground up.

  “La Foule are my soldiers, under my control. Dimples and the prospect are my spies. And soon you’ll find your new home to be the one and only compound that will be part of our new organization. The leaders of the past were stupid, they spread their forces over two countries, spreading them too fucking thin, this time we will be one large unbreakable force.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HOUSTON

  The clubhouse is quiet, only a low hum of whispered words fills the room as I make my way back inside. I’m swaying with each step that I take, unable to walk straight even if I tried.

  Looking around, I try to find her—try to find, Roxanne. I don’t see any sign of her, of her lean body, her shorter light brown hair, nothing. Frowning, I look around for one of the Old Ladies, they’ll know where she went.

  “Hey baby,” a voice whispers.

  Tipping my chin down, I look at Dimples. She’s actually dressed, covering most of her curvy little body since the kids and Old Ladies are here. She looks younger this way, my brows furrow. I shouldn’t have fucked her mouth, she looks like a fuckin’ kid.

  “You seen Roxanne?” I slur.

  She smiles, it’s not sweet though, it looks almost devious. Something works behind her eyes, always. I’ve noticed it before, and I see it right now clear as day, except I’m fucking drunk so maybe I’m just seeing shit.

  Placing my hand on the center of her chest, I gently push her to the side and brush past her. I hear her gasp, but she doesn’t sound anything other than surprised. My eyes frantically search the room, then I go about looking in the bedrooms. I try mine first, it’s empty. I try the whore’s rooms, they’re empty, too.

  “Houston?” someone calls out. Turning to face him, it’s a prospect.

  “You seen Roxanne?” I ask, my heart racing.

  His lip tips up in a small smile, his eyes searching mine. “Here, why don’t you have some water, sober up a second. I’ll see if I can find her.” He hands me a glass of water.

  I frown, wondering how he had that handy the way that he did. Trying not to over think it, I take a big gulp. Then another. He walks away from me, turning the corner, but I lose sight of him as he walks around looking for Roxie.

  “Let’s go to bed, baby,” Dimples grins.

  She’s all wrong. She’s too short, her body too curvy, her face too young. She’s wrong. Every part of her is just wrong. She slides her arm around my waist while I take another gulp of the cool refreshing water. I feel drunker than I did just moments ago.

  Fuck, I drank way too goddamn much.

  Dimples helps me up to my room, my feet moving, but I’m not sure how. Everything feels like a fucking dream.

  Lying down on my bed, Dimples helps me undress. My limbs feel really heavy, I can’t move them the way that I should be able to. It’s a weird feeling, I can see everything that’s happening, but it’s as if I’m watching from the outside, like it’s not my own fucking body.

  Dimples takes her clothes off as well then climbs over me. Her pussy touches my cock, it’s warm and my eyes roll in the back of my head as she moves along my dick. The friction of her pussy against my cock makes me hard, even though it’s not what I want. Roxanne is who I want.

  “Roxanne,” I slur.

  She smiles, her hand comes up and cups my cheek. “She’s gone,” she whispers. “I’ll make you feel good. You can call me Roxanne when you come, but she’s not coming back here, Houston.”

  My arms move slowly, I growl, wrapping my hands around her waist. She smiles down at me as she shifts, and I feel her slowly slide down along my dick.

  “No,” I grunt.

  “Ssshhh. She’s not coming back. You and me, t
hat’s the future, baby,” she smiles.

  Her smile. It’s fucking evil. I hate the sight of it. I hate the sight of her. She moves, my strength is gone from my body, so is my mobility. My hands fall away from her waist. I can do nothing but watch her, completely helpless to stop her from fucking me.

  “I can give you everything, Houston. Everything you could ever want,” she moans.

  “No,” I rasp. “Never.”

  I’ve never felt helpless before. In the middle of a battlefield, watching my brothers die. Even when Roxanne went to treatment and didn’t want to come back, I knew that I wasn’t helpless.

  In this moment, I feel completely helpless. I can’t stop this bitch from fucking me, from riding my dick. I can’t control anything, and my mind starts to wage a war with itself.

  She rides, she plays with her clit, her tits, all the while her eyes never leave mine. When she comes, her pussy squeezes my cock and forces my release. I fill the bitch with my cum, a bitch I wouldn’t fuck without a condom no matter how drunk or high I was. A bitch I wouldn’t fuck right now if my life depended on it, not while I can’t find Roxie.

  The door opens just as she’s climbing off of me. The prospect is standing in the doorway, a smile on his face. It’s as evil as Dimples. They’re in this together. He closed the door, locking it behind him.

  “She’s gone?” Dimples asks him, still naked as the day she was born.

  “Gone, never to be seen again,” he chuckles.

  “Good.”

  “You fuck him good?” he asks.

  I’m paralyzed, unable to even speak anymore. I can do nothing but track them with my gaze. Watching and listening to everything, hoping that I’ll be able to remember this shit tomorrow. Doubting that I will.

  “Oh yeah, plan is working perfectly,” she states.

  “Good. I’ll get back to my post, then.”

  Dimples uses her fingers, moving down to the prospect’s jeans. “Fuck me first,” she moans.

  I watch her pull his pants down and turn around. Her eyes catch mine as she bends over the bed. Her tits begin to sway as he fucks her from behind. I can hear him grunting, but her eyes have me frozen, held captive.

  This fucking cunt of a whore.

  I’m going to kill her.

  I imagine strangling her as this prospect fucks her. I imagine her life slowly draining from her body, then I imagine slitting the prospect’s throat until blood sprays all over the fucking room.

  My eyes slowly close. I’m unable to keep them open, unable to extract the justice that I crave. Unable to do a goddamn thing. My control is gone, my Roxanne is gone. My life is fucking gone, as is my pride and my manhood.

  ROXANNE

  The room is small. There are no windows, not even in the small bathroom that is attached. Only one door in, and that is locked and chained from the outside. The walls are concrete, as are the floors. There’s a drain in the middle of the room, and not a single piece of furniture, not even a bed.

  I was taken to this space after hours on the road, guided inside by the man whose name I still do not know and locked up like the prisoner that I am.

  I pace.

  This room is too empty, the voices are louder here, they bounce off of the walls and no matter how hard I try to fight them off, I already know that it will indeed be a losing battle.

  I’m not sure how long I’m left alone, but it’s long enough that I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my own skin. The door bursts open, and I have no other reaction other than to run over to my captor and fall to my knees.

  I feel his hands in my hair, he’s petting me, and I enjoy the touch, I can feel it pass through my entire body.

  “Look up at me,” he demands.

  Slowly, I tip my head back and look up at him. He smiles down at me, looking far too satisfied with himself. “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “Maîtriser,” he says.

  “Master?” I breathe.

  He chuckles, his cold black eyes dancing and glittering with my obvious confusion. “It’s what I will be known as from now on. My Notorious Devils’ road name is dead. My legal name, the same. Maîtriser is my new name, for this new organization.”

  I don’t reply to his statements. This is so fucked up, so wrong. I just want to go home, and I’m regretting my rash decision to run, to allow Dimples to manipulate me the way that she did.

  I’m regretting so much in my life, in just a matter of hours I’ve come to realize that I had it all—everything, and I just threw it all away. I lied to Tanner, and to myself. I didn’t try to save him from me, I was trying to save me from myself.

  Never have I fallen as deep, as hard, or as fast as I did for Houston, my Tanner. It scared me, but not because he scared me, but because if he left me, I would be crippled. I wouldn’t just be hurt, I wouldn’t just be depressed, I would be dust. So I turned it around, I kept telling myself that I was trying to save him from myself, from my illness, but it was all a fucking lie.

  “You’re not ready for everything I have to give you, Roxanne,” Maîtriser states.

  “I’m not?”

  He shakes his head. “Not yet, but over time, when your mind is completely deteriorated, then you will be. I blink, unsure if he knows about me, about my illness. “I know everything about you. I have done my research. I know about your mental health, I know that you can’t have children, I know it all. Why do you think that I’ve chosen you?” he asks. “Why do you think I made such a fuss about getting you?”

  I stay quiet, unable to speak, my voice has been completely stolen by this man, by his words. “While Skull was obsessing over Carson, I was researching. I didn’t think that it was possible that I could find someone so perfect, yet there you were. I would have taken you sooner, in fact, Melodie was supposed to bring you to me, but she failed. Her failure cost her, her life,” he shrugs.

  “Melodie?” I gasp. My eyes close as I think about my friend, the broken girl who I shared my life with for so many months.

  He hums, my eyes reopen, and I look up at him. “Melodie had many useful attributes. She was young, still very fertile, and ready to please her leader, whoever that may be.”

  Easily manipulated and brainwashed, is what he means. Perhaps her mental illness is what made her so valuable to him, since it’s the only reason he finds me valuable.

  “Children?” I ask.

  He smiles, it’s almost kind, if I didn’t know this man a little bit better than I do a complete stranger, I would think that the smile is indeed a kind one. It isn’t. It’s evil. Just like everything about him. Evil runs through his veins, I can see it flowing beneath his skin.

  “I’ll make them, using a small group of women as their hosts. You aren’t for that, though. You, my sweet Roxanne, you will please me in every way possible, won’t you?” he cajoles.

  My lips tremble, I start to shake my head, but his evil eyes narrow. “You will or I will light that clubhouse on fire, with all of those dirty motherfuckers inside,” he growls.

  “I will please you. Whatever you need from me, it’s yours,” I whimper.

  He leans down, his lips just a hairsbreadth away from my own. “I want your soul,” he breathes.

  My breath catches, but I’m unable to respond to him. He stands straight, turns and walks out of the room, locking the door behind him. Closing my eyes, my ass hits the cold concrete and for the first time since I willingly walked out of the clubhouse yesterday, I cry.

  I regret every fucking decision that I have made since landing here. Every single one. If I could go back, I would stay with Houston, wrapped in his arms, in his bed, never leaving his side.

  I am so fucking stupid.

  So fucking goddamn stupid.

  Staring at the floor in front of me, tears streaming down my cheeks, I know that I will die here. I’ll never see Tanner again, I’ll never see Carson or Axe. I’ll never know true love again.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  HOUSTON

  Trying to swa
llow, my mouth feels like it has a dozen cotton balls shoved inside of it. I don’t attempt to open my eyes, my head is pounding, and I know that when I eventually have to open them, I’m going to feel sick as shit. This is no hangover sick, this is so much more.

  I feel off. Not just from booze and Roxanne leaving, but more. I try to think about what happened last night, but it’s all a blank. I must have drunk more than I thought. Maybe I blacked out and kept drinking? Frowning, I slowly crack one eye open. There’s movement next to me, and I freeze.

  “Good morning, baby,” a sweet syrupy voice coos.

  It’s Dimples.

  Lifting my hand to my head, I moan when the pain slams against my skull. I feel her lips on my chest. I want to push her away, violently, and I don’t understand why I want to hurt her so damn badly. Guilt flows through me that she’s here. Maybe I’m just angry at myself?

  “I need to be alone,” I eventually mutter, my eyes finally able to completely open. Everything is a bit hazy from my massive headache.

  She hums, “You can’t mean that, not after last night.”

  “Last night?” I ask.

  She crawls over me, her hips straddling my waist and an image slams against me, I remember her doing the same last night. Her tits swaying as she fucked me like this. My stomach rolls at the thought of being inside her. I’ve never felt sick just thinking about a fuck before. There’s something seriously wrong with me—with this.

  “You don’t remember?” she pouts.

  I shake my head but immediately regret the move. My brain feels like fucking soup sloshing against my skull. She sighs as if she’s exasperated with me. Reaching down, she wraps her hand around my wrist and tugs my palm toward her cunt.

  Without much of a choice, I cup her pussy, her eyes never leaving mine. “You fucked me, bare. You told me that I was yours now. That you wanted to put your baby inside of me and make me your Old Lady,” she informs.

 

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