Tiebreaker: A Dark Romance (Darker Nights Book 1)

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Tiebreaker: A Dark Romance (Darker Nights Book 1) Page 4

by KT Strange


  With a groan, he stops, buried deep inside of me, his hips finally stilling his body holding mine. I can barely breathe compressed between the door and his chest. And his thumb grazes my clit ass he licks up the shell of my ear. With a helpless shudder, I fall over the edge, a second orgasm roaring through my body.

  I can't hear him. The world whites out, and everything is focused on that single point of pleasure inside of me. Nothing else matters. I’m riding it out. It’s all I am. I can't even hear myself.

  And then it breaks; the world crashes around me, coming back in to the present. I’m gasping for breath, shuddering in the aftermath.

  I'm soaked down there, and he slides out of me with a wet sound. I flinch at the noise, a flare of arousal inside of me, in the part of me that should be dead, but obviously isn’t.

  His hand slips from my head, and my feet hit the ground. My muscles are shaking, and I lean there, against the door. I don't know what to say to him.

  My whole body is, tingling with shock, the aftermath of arousal, and the rush of endorphins.

  “Shit that was good,” he says, and then presses a rough kiss to the side of my face. His lips are warm on my cool skin, and I shudder. “I’m sorry, babe, but I gotta go do it. Fans are waiting. Jenna will come in and take care of things.”

  I turn as he zips up his jeans and I just stare at him. He pauses, frowning. For a moment I think he’s going to ask me if I’m okay. He’s going to see it on my face, that this wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

  Instead, his eyes run up and down my body and he reaches over and carefully smooths down my dress.

  “There,” he says “it's like nothing ever happened.” He winks, playful. He thinks he's being charming. Which he is, he would be, if I wasn’t completely shell-shocked. I wasn’t sure before, but now I’m pretty convinced he thinks that I was willing. That I was here for this purpose, to sleep with him. To be waiting for him.

  Kai Brooks saunters out of the room the way he came, a swagger in his step that I just put there, unwillingly, accidentally.

  He has no idea that he just raped me.

  Five

  Olivia

  My whole body is in shock. The cold air outside the venue is sending me into shivers compounding the ones from what just happened.

  After Kai left the room, Jenna came back and handed me a packet of baby wipes and an envelope with $3,000 cash in it. She didn't meet my eyes with her own gaze.

  Instead, she just pointed to the fire door, and told me that it would take me out to the alley.

  And, if I could please make sure I was gone within 30 minutes that would be appreciated. A sour taste hovers in the back of my mouth, and an uncertain feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  I cleaned up and got the fuck out of there.

  Now I stand in the alley and gulp in lungfuls of air, my knees weak and my thighs still damp from wet-wipes. To think freedom was so close, but I hadn't had a chance to try and find it.

  And now here I am. The world feels gigantic, the skinny alley dirty and small. But it's where I belong, hiding here like a wounded animal. The world beyond it is too big for me.

  I lean against the brick. The tumble of emotions inside of me finally getting the best of me. A shaky hysterical sob escapes my mouth. I keep my hand over my lips to press it back inside.

  What just happened? Did that really just happen? The air squeaks into my lungs as my throat closes up and my eyes mist over

  Home.

  I need to get home.

  I take one shaking step and then another. It wasn't even an hour ago that I stepped out onto that red carpet, feeling like for once, good luck had come my way.

  For once I was going to get to experience something that wasn't just pain and stress and hardship. I'm so fucking stupid. I'm such an idiot.

  Why didn’t I say anything to him? Why didn't I tell him to stop. I don't even know if I blame him. It’s not even his fault. I don't think he knew. I don't think he knew that… I was set up. He was so gentle with me… after fucking me so hard that I feel like I can’t walk straight now, but…

  My heart clenches in my chest. And that panicky exposed feeling swells up inside of me again. I was set up. Mariah set me up. Promised me to Jenna, that I would do a good job, do the job.

  And the job was fucking. My head starts to swim. I’m feeling faint and I need to get home so I can hide under the blankets, Toby's purring weight on my chest. I want his comfort. The soft warmth of his furry body.

  After I've showered. My skin crawls, but it's not from Kai’s touch. It's from Mariah and her betrayal. I knew she was a shitty boss. I didn't know she was a-

  “Heyyyyy girly girl. Hey girly.” Their voices ricochet up the alley. I lift my head. Three guys stand at the end of it, watching me.

  Their eyes are dark smudges in the shadows. My breath stutters in my throat. After what I've been through tonight, I know exactly why they're here.

  They're staring at me like they want to devour me. One of them steps forward and laughs.

  “Are you working,” he asks. My foggy brain is confused.

  “What?” I ask, out of habit, trained from a life time of having to people please and respond to other people.

  “Do you want to work,” he asks, with a laugh. He glances over his shoulder at his two friends.

  “She's all right, what do you think?” The cold callous judgment of me in that split second makes me turn and run. I take off down the alley, shaky in my shoes and my trembling legs.

  “Hey wait, bitch!”

  “Wait up!” One of them snarls and footsteps echo behind me. My lungs burn as I run faster, adrenaline making me bolt harder than I've ever run before I get to the mouth of that alley nearly skidding over myself and falling.

  And that's when my shoe catches on a grate. Time slows down, and my arms pinwheel through the air as I fall forward. The ground rushes up to greet me. The pavement slams into me, rattling my teeth. White stars explode in my vision, red misting at the edge of it.

  “Why you gotta run like that baby?” He's panting as he reaches me, his arm stretching down to grab me.

  A blur intercepts us. I look up as a fourth man, a new guy, grabs the other one by the wrist and twists it up and behind my attacker’s back.

  The guy reaching for me screams, breaking it off with a grunt.

  “Fuck off, Vince,” he says. “I saw her first. She's just a little reluctant.”

  ‘Vince’ looks back at me and raises an eyebrow, before twisting around and punching the guy across the face without waiting a blink. I inhale in shock.

  “If that's the case, it doesn't matter. You know that this side of the alley is ours,” he jerks his head back towards where I'd come from. Punched Man staggers back, wiping at the corner of his mouth and coming away with blood.

  “Fuck you,” he says weakly.

  “More like I'll fuck you up,” Vince says, “now get going. You know the boss doesn't like it when you guys hover on the edge of our territory.”

  The other man tries not to fall to the ground, and moving slowly, he retreats, tail between his legs.

  I stare up at Vince's back, my unexpected rescuer. He's tall enough to be threatening and his shoulders are broad. Even in the cool of this evening, he's wearing a tank top, faded denim hanging around his hips, threatening to fall down.

  Once the alley is empty, he turns and bends down, offering me a hand up. His nails are blunt cut and they dig into my wrist as he pulls me to my feet. I bite back a wincing cry.

  “You all right?” He asks.

  No, I want to say, no, I'm not alright, nothing about the last two hours of my life is alright. Nothing about my life is alright. Instead tears well up in my eyes and I just stare at him, wordless. He sighs and shakes his head, glancing over to the side and making a motion with his hand.

  A girl appears. No more than 15, I guess. She’s dressed the same as him with a beanie pulled low over her eyes. She passes me a leather jacket wordlessly. It's
big. Obviously his. It smells like tobacco and soap when I slip it over my shoulders.

  “Rough date?” He asks me, as he leans in close, lifting his thumb to my lip.

  When I look down at his hand I see that there's blood there, drying. When did my lip get cut- my brain flashes back to Kai pressing me up against the door. And the friction of the rough paint on my face. My cheek is hot, too. When I touched my hand to it, I can feel the skin is abraded, scratched even hadn't been that rough. Kai hadn't hurt me. Not like punched me or anything. And more and more, I think that he thought that I was fully consensual, given how quickly he got inside of me. And the fact that he made me come first. And that kiss, that kiss to the side of my face before he left me.

  Do rapists do that? I don't know. No one's ever touched me like that before. I shiver.

  But then no one's ever touched me like this Vince guy is touching me right now. His fingers gentle on my jaw, as he inspects me.

  “You got a flop?” He asks me. I stare at him, not sure what he means. “You slow?” He asks again. And a flicker of anger ignites in my chest.

  “Thanks for your help,” I say before turning to walk away.

  “Hey, that's my jacket,” He sounds off as I go. I shiver and take it off, throwing it to him. It falls at his feet and he stares at me.

  “You shouldn't be working on your own,” he comments. “That's how this shit happens. You need someone to take care of you.”

  My gaze falls to the girl beside him.

  “Like you take care of her,” I ask. It's obvious what he's implying. He thinks I'm a prostitute, just like everybody else tonight has.

  I wonder if she ‘works’ too. I feel so sick to my stomach as his expression morphs from one of concern to irritation and then outright anger.

  “Whatever bitch,” he says, grabbing his jacket. “C’mon Lemmy.” The girl tags after him as they walk away. My shoulders shake. It's not truly cold out, but I'm freezing, my purse is weighed down with $3,000 in cash, more money than I've seen all at once. In five years. I need to get out of here. I lift my hand and flag down a cab. I need to get home. Somewhere I can cry safely by myself and lick my wounds. Where I can hide from this cruel, insane world.

  Six

  Olivia

  The first thing I did as soon as I got home was have a shower, scrubbing myself from head to toe. The dress, I threw in the trash.

  I never wanted to see it ever again. And then, with my newfound windfall of cash, I ordered takeout for three straight days, ignored my phone and just hung out with Toby.

  Me and him, best friends forever.

  I'm pretty sure I cried through the first night. And the second two? I just felt numb and empty.

  She set me up.

  I didn't even really blame Kai.

  I mean, I'm sure he's a rockstar so he usually had weird things like that happen, you know women available to him, made available to him.

  I really couldn't judge him.

  He didn't know.

  So I hid in my little bedsit.

  Three days later of grieving the worst night of my life, it was time to emerge. I woke up, an odd calmness washing over me.

  I open my eyes, salt crusted from another night of fitful sleep.

  Toby mews at me, grumpy that I am moving him, but he settles into the spot that I leave behind after I get out of bed.

  Stretching in the dim morning light, I look out the dingy window that shows me a nice view of a normal street in LA.

  Lots of electrical poles cracked sidewalks.

  And people going about their business.

  The whole world was keeping moving while I’ve been hidden away.

  The angry pit of burning fire in my belly isn’t going to let me stay sleeping any longer. I shower off and grab my phone. I’m not really sure what I need to do, if I should report her or what or who I would report her to, but I need to talk to Mariah.

  I am going to tell her exactly what I think of her and that three grand sitting in my purse is going to be my ticket out from working with her. I never want to see her face again.

  Not after what she did.

  I turn my phone on and my voicemail icon lit up on the tiny little square screen.

  With an anxious sigh I dial into it.

  “You have 13 messages,” it chirps as I cross my room and set the kettle to boiling. For somebody who doesn't have a lot of friends and doesn't have any family, that was definitely outside of my normal.

  “Hey kiddo. Just checking in with you letting you know that the repairs are going along well. The cafe, and we should be opening for business at the end of this week so call me. And we'll schedule you in a shift.”

  Mariah sounds chirpy, happy even, like she has no idea the gross violation that she had planned for me.

  Like she doesn’t care about it even if she knew. My stomach feels sick. I delete the message. There is a second one from her imploring me to call her, and then a third saying that if I didn't call her she was gonna fire me.

  Fire me, bitch, I think, just the sound of her voice making my skin crawl.

  I quit.

  Fourth message was an unfamiliar voice at first and then I realize it’s Jenna, Kai's assistant. My throat tightens, lump swelling in it.

  Hi Olivia. I hope you're doing well, I just wanted to check in with you and see if you were available for another date. At the end of the week. Of course, there'll be an outfit budget for you. So just call me back at the office and let me know. Thanks so much.

  The casualness of how she is speaking to me gets to me too. Does she think that now that Mariah’s made the ugh, introduction… god.

  I delete the message. I was not whore then, I am not one now.

  Who do these people think they are?

  I look down at my body in the mirror. It looks foreign, alien. It isn't even mine. It isn't even my own possession.

  I sit down on the edge of my bed, and shiver. Beside me, my phone keeps playing voicemails, oblivious to my despair.

  It’s Mariah again.

  Look, I wasn't going to ask you, but since you're not getting back to me. You need to know that half of that money they paid you is mine. So you better fucking give me my share. Call me back, or I'm gonna make it a real problem for you.

  With a shaking hand I shut my little phone. It lays there, in my palm, smooth and quiet.

  This yawning, gaping well a pain and agony in my chest spirals out, and with a cry I throw my phone across the room. It hits the wall, cracking with a dull thud, and falls to through the floor with a thump.

  I mirror its actions and fall over on my side, collapsing down. The sobs come deep and heavy, ripping out of my chest, tears burning my eyes already swollen from days of crying.

  Meow.

  Meow.

  Meow.

  Toby nuzzles my face, before he curls up against my neck and buries himself there, purring ferociously. I wrap my arm around him and hold him close.

  He's all I have. And he's the only thing in the whole world that doesn't hurt me.

  I don't know how long I lay there running my fingers through his fur, the feeling of it grounding me.

  The tears ended at some point.

  Now my heart is just empty and wrung out.

  At least my wallet isn’t. A little less than $3,000 after my days of ordering food in, but it’s enough to keep me going for a while. It is certainly more than I make at the coffee shop in a month.

  I close my eyes and drift, hoping sleep will tug me back down, but a knock at the door startles me out of my half nap and I jerk upwards.

  Toby’s mewing in panic as I nearly roll over onto him.

  “Olivia Copper?” An official sounding voice calls from the other side of the thin door.

  I get to my feet out of habit of obeying those kinds of voices that just tell you what to do, and make my way towards the door.

  I open it without thinking.

  It could be someone who's not safe. I’m not expecting anyone, and the f
ear that grips my heart claws there in a way that it wouldn't have four days ago.

  A short man stands in front of me with ginger hair closely cropped and a matching, neatly trimmed ginger beard. He's dressed in a sharp black suit, expensive from the cut of it, and has a leather folio under his arm.

  His eyebrows raise up toward his hairline as he takes me in. I look to the side and catch a glimpse of myself in the small mirror that runs down the outside of the door to my bathroom.

  Right. I look like leftover shit.

  My hair is messy and there's deep circles under my eyes and my cheeks are red, from crying. The same as my nose.

  I'm in a pair of baggy sweats and an old t-shirt that's got food stains on it from the last few days.

  I've just existing.

  He clears his throat, and I look back at him.

  “Olivia Copper?” He says again, lifting his folio out from under his arm.

  “What is that?” I ask, feeling a sort of tired dread fall over me.

  The world really couldn't get worse right now. There's no way that the universe could punish me in some other horrific way then it already has done. I'm out a job, and I'm out that thin veneer of safety, that I had wrapped around myself.

  He peers past me into my little studio apartment.

  “Ah,” he says, “is this a bad time?”

  My lower lip trembles.

  “I’m sorry. Could you tell me what you're here for,” I ask. “I’m not late on my rent, I paid it.”

  He shakes his head.

  “I’m a solicitor with Arion Investments, and I'm here on behalf of the company to dispense with some sensitive business. I can come back later though or perhaps I could take you for coffee and we could discuss-”

  The word coffee makes me flinch.

  And he seems to notice.

  “Whatever would work best for you,” he says, his tone turning gentle, almost kind. He has brown eyes like a hound dog and his short stature is non-threatening. He almost reminds me of an uncle. That kind of figure, someone that you could play games with at the family reunion, who would tease you mercilessly over puzzles and Connect Four.

 

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