Bitter Sweet Hell (Hell Night Book 2)

by Alex Grayson

  “Air Force, right?” Danny, Amelia’s husband, asks. Kian nods. “My older brother’s in the Air Force. He retires in five years. My sister’s been in twelve years and plans to retire as well. Our father served thirty years.”

  “Did you enlist?”

  Danny looks down at his wife, and though his eyes shine with love for the woman in his arms, there’s a hint of hardness behind it. He looks back at Kian.

  “No. It was always a possibility for me and my parents wanted me too, but I found something too important that I couldn’t leave behind.”

  Amelia and Danny were high school sweethearts. On the night of their graduation, a week before he was set to ship out to basic training, Amelia, who grew up in shitty foster homes and lived in a shady part of town, was gang raped by four guys. They had her for three hours before the neighbors finally called the cops because they couldn’t take her screams anymore. The guys who had her were known thugs and regular terrorizers of the neighborhood. Two of the four guys got away and were never found. Of course, they would have been found if Emo and I hadn’t found them first and taken care of them. Their bones are in a bag at the bottom of the Mississippi River.

  Just then, Sophia, Amelia and Danny’s six-year old girl, comes barreling into her mom’s leg. “Mama, I’m hungry,” she complains, yanking on the bottom of her shirt.

  I glance over to Judge, who’s manning the grill, and see he’s plating some of the burgers.

  “Looks like you’ve got perfect timing, kid,” I tell Sophia with a smile. “I bet you could talk Judge into giving you one he just pulled from the grill.”

  Her eyes light up and she starts tugging her mom’s hand, struggling to pull her toward the food. “Come on, Mama. I wanna booger.”

  We chuckle at her butchered word use as Amelia is led away by her impatient daughter.

  “Oh, shoot!” Remi turns to Trouble, Elijah in her arms as she feeds him a bottle. “I left the potato salad in the fridge. Would you mind grabbing it for me?”

  Before he can answer, Eden’s pulling away from me. I reluctantly let my arm fall away. “I’ll grab it. I have to run inside for a minute anyway.”

  “Thanks.” Remi smiles gratefully at her.

  I watch her walk away, my dick twitching in my jeans at the way the material of her skirt swishes against the curve of her ass. An ass I want to squeeze and take bites out of.

  Fuck! The woman is a temptation who I’m learning really quickly is bordering on obsession. Any time she’s near, my eyes are glued to her. I smell her intoxicating scent, and I want to lick every delectable inch of her body.

  When I look back to the others standing around, I’ve noticed they’ve dispersed. All except Kian, who has his eyes lasered on Eden as well. A snarl plays on the edge of my lips as I step in his line of sight. This guy is fucking with the wrong guy.

  His brows lift in mocking amusement.

  “She’s yours, I take it?”

  “Yes,” I grind out. “If you want to make it back to Colorado in one piece, I’d advise you to keep your fucking eyes off her.”

  Lifting his hands, he lets out a chuckle. “Got it. Loud and clear. Can’t blame a man for testing the waters.”

  He won’t be testing the waters but drowning in them if he doesn’t back the hell off.

  Over his shoulder, I see Emo and Grace walking across the yard. I silently curse when I notice the condition he’s in. His face is pale with dark circles under his eyes. He also looks like he’s lost weight. The bandages wrapped around both hands and his upper forearms has a weight settling on my chest. There’s no telling how many more wounds he has hidden underneath his clothes. Had Grace not been with him, I’ve no doubt he would have left the gashes without treating them.

  It was a mistake asking him to transfer those tapes. I should have known it would be too much for him. The injuries on his arms are new, because they weren’t there yesterday afternoon when I went to check on him.

  I look over to the grill and find Judge and Trouble with the same pained expression I know my face holds. Feeling my eyes on them, they glance my way. Trouble’s lips tighten, and I give him a chin lift.

  I walk over to Emo, a tight smile in place as I look to Grace. Her expression is troubled as well. She may be into a bit of pain play, but she still hates hurting Emo.

  “Give us a minute, Grace,” I tell the woman at Emo’s side.

  She nods jerkily before walking off. Judge and Trouble walk up beside me.

  “I’m coming by when I leave here to get the tapes. You’ve had enough. I’ll find another way to transfer them.”

  Emo’s eyes slide to mine. “No,” he grunts harshly.

  “Goddamn it, Emo,” Trouble says, stepping toward him. “Look at you. You’re fuckin’ butchering yourself.”

  Blazing eyes flip to Trouble. “Doesn’t matter. Other than the four of us, no one is watching those tapes.” He bares his teeth. “Not one Goddamn minute, you hear me?”

  “What tapes are you on?”

  “Just leave it, Judge.”

  “Emo, what tapes are you on?” Trouble repeats the question thickly.

  His eyes turn darker, the pupils nonexistent. “I said leave it.” The snarled words curl his lips.

  Trouble steps closer until he’s in Emo’s face. “Tell me what fuckin’ tapes you’re on.”

  Emo’s jaw clenches and fire burns in his eyes now. A rage so potent, it’s a wonder he doesn’t incinerate everything within a one-mile radius.

  “Ours,” he growls, the words spitting from his lips. He looks at Judge and me before bringing desolate eyes back to Trouble. “All of ours.” Pain twists his face gruesomely. “Mine and Rella’s,” he finishes the last words on a tortured whisper.

  Trouble’s head drops, and he takes a step back, his hand reaching back to grip his neck. My stomach bottoms out. We knew there was a good possibility that Emo would come across tapes that involved us. Watching children being tortured by people who are supposed to be family and friends is hard enough, but to see our younger selves, how weak we were, the utter helplessness, forcing those painful memories to the forefront of our minds, is something I’m not sure I can handle. For Emo to watch himself with Rella…. I’m surprised he’s not in worse condition.

  “No more,” Trouble demands, his tone resolute. “You’re fucking done with those tapes. We know what’s on them. We don’t need them all transferred.”

  “He’s right,” I insert. “There’s no need for you to continue. We know what happened during Hell Night. There’s no need to have those memories shoved in your face.”

  Emo’s fists clench and unclench at his sides, blood appearing on the bandages. Had they not been covered with gauze, I imagine the key would be in his palm, cutting into his skin.

  “No. I’ll tell you when I finish. You can have them then.”

  “Jesus Christ, Emo,” Trouble barks through gritted teeth, his control slipping. “Why? Why do you need to finish them?”

  “Because it’s the only way to see her,” Emo discloses, further wedging the knife slicing through each of us. For the first time in a long time, Emo drops his mask, and what he exposes is a pain so deep, so all-consuming and devastating, it nearly cracks my soul. “I need to do this,” he whispers raggedly. “Please, just let me have this. It’s the least that I owe her.”

  “Emo.” Trouble shakes his head “You’ve got to stop this. It wasn’t your—”

  “Let him be, Trouble,” Judge grunts decisively. He places his hand on Trouble’s shoulder, but his eyes are fixed on Emo. “Emo’s strong. He’ll stop when he needs to.”

  Trouble wants to argue, it’s in the hard edge of his expression—hell, I want to argue as well—but Emo’s a grown man and can make his own choices.

  Instead of voicing his assertion, he steps forward, his hand going to the back of Emo’s neck where he yanks him forward until their foreheads are almost touching.

  “I’ll leave it for now,” he says in a low, rough tone. “But
swear to me right now that you’ll pull back before it destroys you. You may hold yourself accountable for what happened to Rella, but we don’t. You’re our brother and it fucking kills us knowing you’re suffering for something you had no control over.” He squeezes his neck. “Swear to me, Emo.”

  After a moment, Emo gives him a clipped nod. Before letting him go, Trouble pulls him into a tight hug. A few hushed words are murmured between the two that Judge and I can’t hear before they pull apart.

  “Where’s Mae?” Emo asks, looking around the yard

  “At The Hill. Doris came down with a migraine, so she’s covering for her.”

  I glance around, looking for Eden, then frown when my search comes up empty. She should have been back with the potato salad by now. Worry slams in my chest.

  “I’ll be back. I’m going to check on Eden.”

  I stalk across the yard, up the porch steps, and through the back door. Walking down the hallway, I hear her voice before I find her in the bathroom.

  “I’m okay, I swear.” She pauses. “I trust him, Mills. I know he won’t let anything happen to me.”

  Pride swells in my chest at her admission. In such a short time, Eden’s come to mean more to me than an innocent person to protect. The connection I feel toward her grows with each day that passes. As crazy as it sounds, I’d give my life to ensure Diego doesn’t get his hands on her again.

  “How are Clayton and Hannah?”

  Who are Clayton and Hannah?

  Her shoulders droop at whatever answer she gets. “Please tell them I miss them too. Maybe the next time they stop by the shelter you can call me so I can talk to them.”

  I rest my shoulder against the door frame as she finishes her call. She’s facing the sink, and I’ve got a side view of her. She hasn’t noticed my presence yet and the angle of where I am, I’m not in view of the mirror.

  “I need to go. I’ll call you in a few days.”

  Warily, she places the phone on the counter and closes her eyes, her body sagging. Quietly, I walk up behind her. Her eyes spring open and she jumps when I slide my arms around her waist.

  “Sweet Jesus, you scared me,” she mumbles while lining her arms along mine, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

  “Everything okay?” I lay my lips against the tender spot on the back of her neck.

  “Yeah,” she sighs.

  “Who’re Clayton and Hannah?”

  She angles her head slightly to the side. “A couple of kids who come to the homeless shelter I volunteer at.”

  Why doesn’t it surprise me that she offers her precious time at a homeless shelter?

  “That’s very charitable of you,” I murmur and work my lips over the new spot she opened for me.

  “Not charitable. I just enjoy giving something of myself to the community. Who needs it more than the people who have nothing?”

  I kiss her shoulder and let my fingers slip underneath the edge of her shirt. “There should be more people like you.”

  She lets out a low moan, her hands gripping the counter in front of her. Her eyelids droop sexily as she continues to watch me in the mirror. “What are you doing?” Her voice is a breathless whisper. My cock reacts to the needy sound.

  “Playing.” I kick the door closed before slowly moving my hands up her toned stomach until they graze the bottom of her tits.

  “I thought you said the next time I was pressed against you, I’d be in your bed?”

  I tip my lips up as I continue to explore the soft skin on her shoulder. “Actually, I said the next time I had your pussy pressed against me, I’d have you in my bed,” I correct her while pushing my cock against her ass. I’m so Goddamn hard, I could split wood.

  “Oh.” She moans and thrusts back into me.

  Taking one hand from her shirt, I reach across her chest, grab the end of her braid, and bring it around her throat. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror again and she forces out a breath when the thick braid settles firmly against her neck. I let the length hang down the middle of her back.

  “You’re coming home with me tonight,” I inform her.

  “A-are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”

  Gripping her skirt at her thighs with both hands, I start lifting it. I may not be able to fuck Eden here in Trouble and Remi’s spare bathroom, but I damn sure want to get a taste of what’s to come.

  As soon as the material clears her upper thighs, I dive my fingers between her legs.

  Lord have mercy.

  She’s bare. No fuzz, no anything. She wasn’t bare the other day on the dock.

  “Motherfuckin’ hell, baby,” I groan at the first slide of my fingers against her smooth flesh. She’s bare, not wearing panties, and she’s soaked. So wet that she’s dripping down her thighs. My mouth waters with the thought of licking up every single drop.

  “Oh God.” She grips my wrist, and at first, I think she’s going to push me away. Thank Christ, she doesn’t, and instead presses my hand closer. “That feels incredibly good.”

  Her eyes fall closed, so I grab the end of her braid and tug the noose I made around her neck tighter.

  “Keep your eyes open,” I order and her eyes snap open. “I want you to watch me as I fuck you with my fingers.”

  Her throat bobs as she swallows against the restraint of her hair. It’s not tight enough to cut off her air supply, but it’s enough for her to know it’s there.

  With my eyes pinned on hers, I rub my fingers between her pussy lips from her hole up to her clit. I pinch it between my fingers and she lets out a small cry, her eyes flaring wide. Releasing her little nub, I skate my fingers back down to her cunt and push a finger inside.

  “So tight,” I whisper. “I can’t wait to have this wrapped around my dick.”

  “Yes,” she hisses and clamps her walls around my finger.

  I slip another in beside the first, and damned if I don’t almost come in my jeans. Warm and soft and slippery. The best thing I’ve felt in a long time.

  Inserting a third finger, I use the heel of my palm and press it against her clit. Her legs wobble, becoming weak, and I feel the weight of her body sagging. I hold her up by my fingers in her pussy and pushing my hips against her ass.

  “Ahh… shit. It’s too much,” she whimpers. In the mirror, her eyes drift down to where she’s impaled on my fingers.

  “Not enough,” I growl in return. I pull my fingers free then shove them back in, making sure my palm rubs against her clit. “I want you to come on my fingers. Come on, you can take it.”

  She shakes her head emphatically.

  “Yes,” I demand and pump my fingers faster. “Give me what I want, Gypsy.”

  She tosses her head back until it thumps back against my shoulder. I don’t make her open her eyes when they fall shut. I do keep mine on her face though. She’s mesmerizingly stunning in the throes of passion. It’s a picture I know I’ll keep with me forever.

  Curling my fingers inward, I hit the spongy flesh inside. Her inner walls clamp down on me impossibly tight and she lets out a loud cry with her release. I cover her mouth with my other hand to muffle the sound. The last thing we need is for someone to hear her cries and come to investigate. Judge has already caught us twice. I’m not sure I’d be able to hold back from beating his ass a third time.

  My cock hurts in its tight confinement. It takes iron will to force back the need to pull my cock free and plunge into her warm sheath. Later. Later, I’ll know what it feels like to be surrounded by her.

  Once her walls stop constricting, I slowly pull them free of her body. Her eyes open and meet mine. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I lick away her essence. The taste of her is damn near my undoing.

  “My new favorite taste,” I tell her huskily once I’ve sucked away all her juices.

  Her cheeks, already flushed from her orgasm, pinken even more. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  “Why?” I turn her around to f
ace me and unwind her hair around her neck. Her dress falls back down her legs.

  “Because we’re supposed to be outside at the barbeque. Had someone come in and heard….” She trails off.

  “They would have turned around and went back out.” I say, trying to appease her worry.

  “Yeah, but they still would have known what we were doing. It’s rude to make out in someone’s house like we just did.”

  I chuckle and cup her cheek, rubbing my thumb across her bottom lip. Her mouth opens slightly, tempting me to shove my finger inside and demand she suck.

  “What we did was more than make out, wouldn’t you say? Besides, I can guarantee Trouble wouldn’t have cared.”

  She frowns. “But I would have cared.”

  Smiling indulgently, I pull back from her. “Well, then, let’s go back outside before they send a search party.”

  “Okay.” She hesitates for a moment, her lip going between her teeth. “Do I look okay? I mean, do I look like—”

  “You just rode my fingers and came all over my hand?”

  She scowls and slaps my chest. “JW, I’m being serious. I can’t go out there looking like we were just fooling around. These people are your friends, not mine. You can get away with it.”

  I laugh, but soon lose my mirth when I notice genuine worry in her eyes. I put both my hands on her cheeks and make her look at me. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” I press a tender kiss to her lips. “And you may not have been here long, but in the short time you have been, many of those people out there consider you a friend. You don’t have anything to worry about, Gypsy.”

  Her eyes move back and forth between mine, looking for the truth in my words. After a moment, she nods.

  Kissing the tip of her nose, I unglue my hips from hers. “Come on. I’ve worked up a bit of an appetite. The sooner we eat, the sooner I can get you home.”

  She laughs and lets me tug her out of the bathroom. We stop by the kitchen and grab the potato salad from the fridge. As we walk across the yard to the two picnic tables where almost everyone is sitting, I spot Judge off to the side, well away from listening distance, his phone to his ear. He’s facing the crowd, so I see the hard set to his jaw. When he spots me, he juts his chin up.