Sinners' Playground
Page 35
“I heard that Fox had a girl who no one was allowed to touch," he mused as he looked at me, the feeling of his intense gaze on my body making goosebumps rise along my skin. But I couldn't tell if they were from fear, lust or something far more worrying. "I guess I should have known it was you right away. He always was obsessed with you after all,” Maverick said in that, deep, sinful voice of his.
"I'm not anyone’s-"
"I see you had your first without me too," he said, ignoring me and reaching out to graze his fingers over the tattoos which covered my left arm. "Which one was it?" His hand moved to the skull on my right thigh, his rough fingers grazing sensitive skin in a way that made me ache for more. After all this time, it seemed stupid to be discussing tattoos, but he'd gotten his first ink without me and I’d complained about it at the time, so I guessed I could give him an answer to that.
"The wings on my back," I replied evenly, not knowing how I was supposed to react to this brutal creature before me. When I'd come here it had been with hate in my heart for the Harlequin boys because I'd believed that each and every one of them had left me to rot. But if what the others had told me was true then that wasn't the case with Rick. He'd tried to come after me. He'd served six years for that attempt. And by the time he was released, I would have been long gone even if he had tried to find me. "I got them because I-"
My explanation was cut off by Rick whipping me around, grabbing a fistful of my rainbow coloured hair and driving my face down against the bar as he bent me over it. I gasped in shock, cursing at him as he pinned me in place with his overwhelming strength then yanked the zipper on the back of my dress right down to the base of my spine.
"Maverick!" I yelled, trying to fight out of his grip as his fingers ran down the tattoos on my back and he growled something I couldn't make out.
I threw an elbow back at his gut but before I could land the blow he'd released me again, stepping back so that I could push myself upright and turn to glare at him. He'd left my damn dress undone but I was more concerned with breaking his fucking face than zipping it up in that moment.
"What the fuck was that about?" I demanded, stepping up to him as he just looked me over impassively, almost like he didn't care if I punched him. Or maybe like he wanted me to.
"I'm figuring you out," he replied as if that meant a damn thing and I took my chances with punching him.
He either didn't expect it, or let me land the blow because he didn't even flinch before my knuckles slammed against his jaw and he only moved at all because I hit him so damn hard.
Rick recovered slowly, smirking as he took a step closer to me so that I had to back up, my ass pressing to the bar before he turned and spat a wad of blood from his mouth then pinned me in his dark gaze once more.
“What do you want?” I ground out, forcing myself not to punch him again while my knuckles stung from the hit to his face.
“Straight to the point I see.”
“Unlike you, apparently. What’s wrong, Rick? You used to be the one I could rely on to give it to me straight. Or was that bullshit too?”
He smiled at me but there was no kindness in it, no fondness over the memories we’d shared of the life we’d once lived. Something had happened to him in the time that I’d been gone. The boy I once knew didn’t peer out through his dark eyes anymore. And the man in his place was as cold and callous as any of the worst people I’d ever known.
“I want what Fox wants,” he said, moving close so that he could run his knuckles down the side of my face, the ink there seeming to stain my skin with heat I had no intention of feeling. “But don’t go thinking I’m sweet on you, beautiful. I want you sweating and panting beneath me. I want you broken and begging and crying because you want it so much that you hate yourself for it. I want to take you and use you and ruin you and then lay you back at his feet and laugh in his face when I do it.”
“Good luck with that,” I sneered, knocking his hand from my face. “Because I don’t want you any more than I want Fox. I never did. So why don’t you keep your right wrist nice and limber because I get the feeling your hand will be getting more action from you than I will.”
Maverick’s hands suddenly grabbed my waist and he lifted me up, driving me back onto the bar and knocking glasses flying as people scrambled to get out of our way. He shoved my knees apart and stepped between my thighs, looming over me as I leaned back, his chest pressing to mine and that rich, masculine scent of his enveloping me as he moved right into my personal space.
I slammed my hands into his chest to try and force him back with a snarl of anger, but he just caught my wrists, his fingers tightening around them hard enough to bruise as he held on firmly and immobilised me.
“You seem to be under the impression that I’m waiting for permission,” he growled, his lips brushing mine as I stared up at him with wide eyes. He wasn’t the boy I used to know. This was a monster in the flesh of a man. The kind who took pleasure in the pain of others. The kind I’d sworn to stay well away from after waking up in that fucking grave.
“Get your fucking hands off of me, Rick.”
Maverick scoffed, leaning forward and taking my bottom lip between his teeth before biting down hard enough to draw blood. “Make me,” he growled, his grip tightening on my wrists until I cried out then suddenly, he was gone.
He shoved away from me, turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me perched on the bar, panting and bleeding and wondering what the fuck had happened to him. Because I didn’t know that man. Not even a little.
But that wasn't good enough. He owed me answers. He'd been the only one of them to come after me, to even try to go against what Luther had wanted and followed me like I'd needed all of them to once.
I licked the blood from my lip, feeling the imprint of his teeth in my flesh and reaching behind my back to force my zipper up again before using my position on top of the bar to watch Maverick as he stalked away through the crowd.
He didn't go the way we'd come in but headed for a door on the far side of the wide open space where a group of scary looking individuals with Damned Men tattoos prominently visible on their skin grouped around him and followed him out.
It was probably a terrible idea to follow him, but despite what I'd heard, despite what I'd seen or even what I'd just felt in the roughness of his touch, that man had owned a piece of my soul once. And I intended to find out if he'd ever deserved it.
I dropped back down to my feet and spotted Bella stumbling towards the exit with Lyla half carrying her. I ducked between the crowd towards them, my gaze half fixed on the exit Maverick was slipping through as I made it to them.
"Ain’t no party until Bella pukes a lung, am I right?" Lyla joked as I gave the swaying redhead a concerned look.
"Are you okay with her? I just ran into a guy I used to know and-"
"Say no more, bitch," Lyla said with a wicked grin. "Go get lucky. I'll tell the others you're finding your own way home tonight - or tomorrow if he's got the right amount of stamina."
I forced a laugh, deciding that was the easiest thing to let her believe then left her and Bella to beg a bottle of water from the bar staff as I took off after Maverick.
I made it to the small door with no issues and pushed through it, squinting as I stepped into a brightly lit white corridor with a metal staircase and signs telling me there was access to the street above.
There were no sounds to say that anyone was nearby so I took off up the stairs as fast as my chunky heels would carry me, climbing up and up until I reached the exit to the street.
I shoved on the thick bar which released the door and came face to face with a guy and a girl who looked less than pleased to see me.
"What the fuck are you doing using the private entrance?" the girl sneered at me as the door swung shut with a loud click.
"Don't mind me, I just need to find-"
She threw a punch at me out of nowhere and I barely managed to flinch back as it glanced off of my jaw.
"Hold her down, Onyx," the guy said from behind her, pulling a flick knife from his pocket as he advanced on me with an evil little scowl on his face. "I'll teach her a lesson about who runs this town so she doesn't make a mistake like this again."
The girl grinned wickedly as she increased the pressure of her hold on me like she thought I was just going to stand there and let her pin me down while that motherfucker cut me.
But I'd been playing these games for long enough to know that going easy never won anyone any favours and I wasn't the type to take their shit lying down.
I let him advance and the moment he was holding the knife out close enough to us, I lunged forward with a snarl of fury, shoving the girl back so that the blade ended up slicing along her forearm instead of meeting with my flesh and she howled in agony and rage as she dove at me again.
I took a punch to the cheek and threw one right back into her stomach just as she grabbed a fistful of my hair.
She swung me around towards the wall again and I slammed into it, grazing my arm before stomping on her foot with my big ass heels.
The girl released me then swung another punch as the guy moved back a step with the knife still in hand, clearly waiting for her to incapacitate me again. But as he moved, the light from the far end of the alley caught on the pistol he had jammed into the back of his jeans, letting me know that they could do a hell of a lot more than just cut me if they got the upper hand here.
I went for the low blow, tit punching the girl in a move that would have had the Green Ranger shaking his head in disapproval before taking advantage of her stumbling back and launching myself at her.
My shoulder caught her in the chest as I threw my weight at her, making her lose her balance and fall back against the guy. He dropped the knife in his attempt to catch her then promptly shoved her away from him as he lunged after it, clearly thinking I'd go for it too.
But the moment he lurched down to pick it up, I ripped the gun from the back of his pants, flicked the safety off and backed up several steps as I held them both in my gaze.
"Keys," I demanded in a low snarl, ignoring the wet trickle of blood I could feel running down from my hairline onto my temple.
"What?" the asshole spat like he couldn't understand plain English.
"I'm guessing you didn't walk here, motherfucker, and I find myself in need of a vehicle," I growled. "So give it up."
His gaze scraped over me and he slowly lowered his hands, smirking as he took a step towards me. "You're not gonna shoot me," he said with all the confidence of some big bad gang banger who believed he was immortal. "You look like some kind of rainbow princess, you clearly don't have the balls to-"
I lowered the gun and fired off a shot into his thigh.
The guy fell to the ground screaming in pain and the girl scowled at me so hard it kinda looked like she was trying to take a shit.
"You'll pay for crossing The Damned Men," she hissed like I should be afraid. But I was already dead and all I felt was cold, empty nothingness right now.
The last of my boys had finally shown up and our reunion may have been the most bitter of all.
"Keys, bitch," I demanded. "Or the next bullet is going between your eyes."
Was I going to kill her for being a royal cocksucker? Probably not. But would I shoot her to stop her coming after me? Yeah. I was down for that.
The guy on the ground was sobbing and gasping and praying to a god who wouldn't have helped him even if he was listening. Deities didn't care about scum like us. If they existed at all, they saved their mercy for people far more worthy of it than we were.
The girl reluctantly pulled a set of keys from her back pocket and tossed them at me.
"You wanna tell me where you parked? Or am I shooting your buddy again?" I asked, making no move to retrieve them.
"About a block that way," she jerked her chin to the right. "Black Honda."
"Thank you, sweet pea," I mocked, stooping down to claim the keys.
As I expected, she lurched at me like she seriously believed I was dumb enough to take my eyes off of her and I fired a shot that smacked her straight in the thigh too.
Instead of screaming like her buddy, the girl just howled curses at me as I grabbed the keys, calling me as many names as she could think up while swearing at me with promises of death that I ignored. The Grim Reaper had already come for me once after all. And it turned out even that dude didn't want me. Rejection had never felt so good.
I turned away from the bleeding, cursing, crying assholes and fell still as I found a man watching me from the back of a matt black motorcycle.
Maverick didn't say a word, but the corner of his mouth lifted into a dangerous smirk as his dark eyes lit with some decision that made my already pounding heart race.
He lifted a gun of his own and my heart stilled as for some unknown reason I failed to raise mine. Maybe it was because I knew in my heart that killing him would destroy any lingering fragments of the girl I'd once been. Or maybe it was because death at his hands sounded like the sweetest offer of oblivion I'd ever been given.
Two shots rang out, the sound of them echoing right through my body as my eyes closed automatically and I waited to feel the pain of those bullets ripping through me. But instead, silence fell heavily, followed by the roar of a motorcycle. And by the time I peeled my lids open again, I found myself standing alone in an alley with two corpses and the scent of Maverick's exhaust fumes tainting the air.
I lived between two eternal fields of grey with a black sky above. Nothing surprised me anymore. I’d learned a long time ago to expect the unexpected. And when life gave you lemons, you’d better not bust your ass making lemonade. You needed to squeeze the acid out into your enemies’ eyes and gut them while they were blinded.
Rogue showing up in my life again had been unexpected. But I didn’t run to her like the pussy whipped prick I’d been ten years ago. Instead, I inspected her like a cup of poison left on my porch. I’d been thirsty for a long time, so I had to take a sip.
It seemed she was the kind of poison that left me wanting more though and as I drove deeper into Damned Men territory, my tongue felt like a dry lump of tinder in my mouth.
She was Fox’s girl. Of course he’d claimed her the second she’d drifted back into town like a seed looking to plant itself in the dirt of our lives. She’d gotten under his skin just like before and now he owned her. But not for long. The girl was ripe for the picking. And if she didn’t come knocking at my door for a taste of my cock soon enough, then I’d take her myself. It was tit for tat after all. You fuck my life, I’ll fuck your girl, brother.
I didn’t care to lay a claim on her beyond that. My days were filled with a sole ambition to eradicate every single Harlequin from the earth, then I’d walk into the arms of death with a smile on my face and my purpose fulfilled. The nothingness beyond this life was welcoming to me. The only reason I hadn’t tried to catch a bullet with my skull before now was because there were still Harlequins drawing breath. And I’d be damned if I’d die before I saw them all fall.
I’d been curious to see if Rogue Easton had handed her soul over to their crew already, but I’d seen the devil in her eyes looking straight back at me, and I knew what that meant. She was still a lost girl, outcast from even Neverland. And Fox could lay claims on her all he liked, but it was clear she was never going to belong to anyone ever again. Didn’t fucking matter though. Fox was a stubborn asshole and if he’d convinced himself he owned her, then the pain would be the same when I left her ruined at his doorstep.
When I’d gotten out of prison, I’d made a vow to never let that bastard be content. And the only thing that allowed me to sleep at night was knowing he wasn’t. My so-called
brother was living on borrowed time. Time leant to him by Luther who’d handed him the world, his crew, all he needed to surround himself with an army of worthless men who’d die for him. But every one of them I cut down got me another step closer to him. And I hoped Luther was there when the light went out of his precious boy’s eyes. Just before I finished daddy dearest himself.
I spat over my shoulder at the thought of them, turning my bike down onto Fishhook Street and racing toward the boatyard. The boat was ready to go and I drove up the ramp onto the catamaran where my men were waiting to leave.
“Let’s go!” I hollered as I parked up, swung my leg over the bike and headed to the front of the boat, watching the moonlight bleed into the waves.
It was only a fifteen minute journey and I was soon driving my bike off onto Dead Man’s Isle, racing up the curving road that led to the compound. The guards let me in and I sailed toward the front entrance, parking my bike up alongside the few the trucks we kept here.
I headed into the huge abandoned hotel I lived in. The word home held no meaning for me, but this was where I resided until I walked into the arms of death. And lately, I felt I was drawing closer to that inevitable day. But that only sent a lick of excitement up my spine, because if my death was near, so was Fox and Luther Harlequin’s.
I walked upstairs to the suite I occupied on the top floor, the air cool as I moved into the huge room and stripped off my shirt. I headed across the tiles into the wide bathroom with silver taps and a walk in shower. I stood in front of the his and hers vanity unit and took a switch knife, a lighter and a bottle of antiseptic from the drawer. I ran the blade through the flame of the lighter, eyeing the tattooed tally marks on the left side of my chest and reaching up to cut two thin lines into it. Blood trickled from the shallow cuts and I soaked a pad of cotton wool in the antiseptic, cleaning it before picking up the bottle of tattoo ink by the sink. I used another cotton wool pad to bathe my wounds in ink, marking them on me forever. Most of these cuts represented Harlequins, but occasionally the wrong asshole crossed me and ended up among them. Tonight, two of my own had earned their places on my body. Rogue had done half the work and I’d done the rest. Seeing those marks they’d left on her had awoken my bloodthirst, and I always fed that hungry devil. If she thought it meant more than that, then more fool her.