American Street Kings: The Complete Series

by Bella J

  “Who are you?” I clutched the sheets against my chest.

  “My name’s Neon.” She turned a page, unfazed.

  “Why…why are you here?”

  She shrugged. “Granite told me to sit with you while they went on a run. Make sure you’re okay.” She glanced at me from under her lashes. “You okay?”

  “Is that a trick question?” I glared at the blue-haired girl with piercings just about everywhere on her face.

  She didn’t respond and just turned her attention back to the…Good Housekeeping Magazine?

  “What?” she snapped. “They have good recipes in here.” She glared my way, and I realized I must have been frowning at her choice of reading material.

  I cleared my throat. “Okay, I’m fine. You can leave now.”

  “Nope.” She continued to browse the pages.

  “What do you mean, nope?”

  “Granite told me to sit here and make sure you’re okay. Now, in Granite’s terms, that means ‘do not move your ass until I tell you to.’ So, I’m not leaving until he gets back from his run.”

  I snorted. “He doesn’t look like the jogging type.”

  Neon dropped the magazine, finally turning her attention to me. “Say what?”

  “You said he went for a run.”

  “No.” She sat up straight. “I said he went on a run, as in on his bike. Ugh, never mind.” She waved me off, picked up the magazine, and leaned back in the chair again. “There’s some aspirin next to the bed for your headache.”

  “How’d you know—”

  “With a shiner like that, your head is probably on the verge of exploding. Just eat a cracker before you take the aspirin. Wouldn’t want you to burn a hole in your stomach.”

  “I’ve been kidnapped, punched in the face, and almost strangled to death by a six-foot giant. Yet taking aspirin on an empty stomach is our main concern?”

  Neon gave me a sideways glance. “Granite strangled you? Wow, he must really like you.”

  “Excuse me?” I climbed out of bed, my body aching all over. “Granite almost strangling me is a sign that he likes me?”

  She smiled, the piercing in her bottom lip glinting. “Yup.”

  “Oh, my God,” I muttered, placing both hands on my head. “This is insane.”

  “Listen.” Neon tossed the magazine to the ground then got up. She was tall, clearly worked out, and dressed in torn denim jeans and a black spaghetti strap shirt. “Granite only cares about his club and his guys. When it comes to women, all he feels and shows is indifference. Trust me, I’ve been here long enough to know his name ain’t Granite for nothing. That man’s heart is nothing but stone.”

  Ignoring the cracker on a plate, I reached for the aspirin and swallowed it. “I really don’t need a class in getting to know my kidnapper better.”

  Neon smirked, her dark eyes seeming amused. “Maybe if you know him better, you wouldn’t give him a reason to want to strangle you.”

  “Maybe if you leave now, I wouldn’t feel the need to strangle you.”

  The smile remained on her face, and she didn’t seem intimidated by me at all. Who could blame her? I was nothing but a tiny ballerina girl.

  Neon placed her hands in her pockets. “I like you, little swan.”

  My eyes widened. “Little who?”

  “Isn’t that ballet thing called Swan Lagoon?”

  My expression remained stoic. “Lake. Swan Lake.”

  “Yes,” she snapped her fingers, “that’s it. Anyway. So, I don’t know if Granite gave you the grand tour, but there’s a mini-bathroom on the other side of those doors.” She pointed to right, and I was dumbfounded that I only noticed those now. Neon shrugged. “There’s no shower, though. Just a sink, and a toilet in case you need to pee. You know, you look like shit. You want to take a shower?”

  I flopped down on the bed. “First off, thank you. I feel like shit. And I don’t think a shower is going to make any difference.”

  Neon scratched the side of her head that was shaved, her blue hair hanging down the other side. “Take a shower, would you?” She scrunched her pierced nose. “You kinda stink. That might be why Granite wanted to strangle you. He can’t handle the smell of mucky ballerinas.”

  “Funny.” I glowered at her, and she winked while chewing her gum.

  “Shower is across the hall. Be a good a girl, and I might give you something slutty to wear. But first…” She stepped up and started flashing a camera at my face.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “My job. Okay, all done. Now, let’s get that stink off you.”

  I took a moment, trying to figure this woman out. She had the whole hardcore look pulled off like a pro. Tattoos decorated her inner arms. It looked like Hebrew text inked all the way from her wrists up to her armpits. When she turned around to open the door, I noticed another tattoo at the back of her neck. A skull. The American Street Kings patch.

  “How long have you been part of the gang?”

  Neon turned and narrowed her eyes at me. “A club. Not a gang. Go around calling it a gang, and you’ll get that tiny ballerina-ass of yours hurt.”

  I bit my tongue. The feisty blue-haired bad-girl had me all confused since I didn’t really get the whole dangerous vibe from her…until now.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “Club. How long have you been part of the club?”

  “None of your goddamn business.” She walked out, leaving me standing there. The door was wide open, and for a fleeting moment I wondered if this was the kind of place you could just walk out of. Would there be armed bad guys waiting around every corner? Or would it be easy and simple for me to escape? Somehow, I doubted it would be the latter.

  I gnawed on my thumb nail, not knowing what to do when Neon’s face popped up at the side of the door. “You coming or what?”

  “Yeah.” No matter how scared I was, my need to scrub the filth off me was stronger. The promise of taking a shower was just too damn good for my fear to keep me from following her.

  As I reached the door, I hesitated for a moment. I leaned forward, glancing down the unfamiliar hall. Dark wooden floors flanked with cool-gray walls led to what seemed like a kitchen at the end, part of the kitchen table and cabinets visible from where I stood. I couldn’t see more than that, only that there were two more doors between the room where I was and the kitchen.

  “Over here.” Neon drew my attention, standing beside the door across the hall. “The bathroom’s in here.”

  I stilled. Uncertainty was knocking at the back of my skull.

  Neon rolled her eyes. “Get your bony ass over here before I change my mind. Besides, the crew should be back any minute. If Granite knew I let you out of the room, he’d cut my goddamn tongue out.”

  I frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “You’ve seen the man. You tell me whether I’m kidding or not.” She crossed her arms, pursing her lips. “I’m going to count to—”

  “I’m coming.” I hauled ass across the wooden floors and literally stumbled over my own two feet, almost falling my way into the bathroom.

  “You know,” Neon started, “for a ballerina, you sure are uncoordinated.”

  I glowered her way. “Being kidnapped can do that to a person.”

  “Ha,” she winked at me, “funny. Now, hurry up. You have two minutes. I’ll go see if I can find you something clean to wear.” Her gaze swept over me from top to bottom. “You’re a what, size nine to ten-year-old?”

  “Funny.”

  “Hurry your ass up, Swan Lagoon.”

  “It’s Swan Lake.”

  “Don’t care.” She closed the door.

  A few seconds passed, and I just stood there, glancing from one side to the other. Everything seemed so…clean. With dark and light tones of gray, a corner tub, and double shower, the bathroom didn’t seem like it was used by a bunch of barbaric motorcycle grease junkies.

  I turned and spotted a toothbrush, still sealed in its packaging, on the s
ink. Alongside it, toothpaste, a bottle of shampoo, and a bar of soap. Was Neon trying to be nice, or was this the part where they groomed the live offering right before they slaughtered it in the name of Satan?

  I checked the door, but there was no key. Of course, there wasn’t. And I didn’t hear the lock turn when Neon closed the door. Did that mean it was still open?

  Slowly, softly, I moved forward. My heart raced, my mind about to explode with a hundred different things I’d do if the door wasn’t locked—the best option being to run as fast I could.

  My hand shook as I reached out, gently placing my palm on the doorknob. Sweat beaded at the back of my neck, my legs ready to run. I swallowed then slowly turned the knob. When the door clicked open, my heart stopped.

  What the fuck do I do now?

  In which direction do I run?

  Do I run to the kitchen, or away from the kitchen?

  Jesus.

  I pulled the door open, ready to sprint, only to look right into Neon’s face.

  “Seriously, Swan Lake. You’re seriously going to try to make a run for it when there’s an entire bar filled with mean-ass motherfuckers who would break you in half just by looking at you?”

  I tried to swallow, but my mouth and throat instantly went dry. “I, ah…I’m not—”

  She shoved a bundle of clothing into my chest. “Take a damn shower and quit fucking around. Your two minutes just slipped down to thirty seconds.” She placed her hands on either side of the doorframe. “I’ll wait right here.”

  I clutched the clothing tighter. “You’re going to watch me take a shower?”

  “Yup.” She didn’t even blink.

  I took a few steps back, watching her watch me. “At least you got Swan Lake right this time.”

  “I’m a quick learner.” Her head leaned to the side. “Let’s hope you are too.”

  From the look on her face, I knew she wasn’t kidding about the whole thirty-second thing. So I tried to ignore the fact that she was watching me get naked and hurried myself through the shower. Even though I would have loved to drag it out, to concentrate on how good it felt to have the water cascade down on my aching body, I decided it best not test Neon. Washing my hair and face, then lathering the vanilla scented soap bubbles on my skin, all happened in record time. When I stepped out of the shower, a towel got tossed right in my face.

  “Hurry the fuck up. They’re here.”

  “Who?” I wrapped the towel around me.

  “Granite and the rest of the guys. You can hear their Harleys coming from a mile away.”

  Drying myself, brushing my teeth, and grabbing the clothes Neon brought me all happened in fifteen seconds flat. I glanced down at the t-shirt I just pulled over my head. ‘Bra off. Hair down.’

  I gave Neon a knowing look, and she shrugged. “It’s the best I could find on such short notice. Now, hustle.”

  The pair of jeans she gave me was about three size too big, but I was in no position to complain.

  Neon rushed me across the hall and back into the room I woke up in. We could hear the stomping of shit-kicker boots downstairs, and Neon seemed about as frazzled as I was.

  “Here.” She held out two chocolate energy bars. “He said I should make sure you eat something. So, eat.”

  My stomach churned, thinking of the last time I binge-ate a shitload of chocolate bars. “I can’t—”

  Her glare bored holes into my forehead. “Now is not the time, Swan Lake. Eat the fucking bars now, before he gets here.”

  I hesitated.

  “Now!” Neon pushed the bars against my chest, forcing me to take them.

  My hand quivered as I tore the wrapper open. The mint toothpaste taste was still in my mouth when I took the first bite of the energy bar. It masked the sweetness of the chocolate and tasted all kinds of wrong. But Neon’s glare my way made it clear I had no goddamn choice but to stuff both bars down my throat as quickly as possible.

  The more I ate, the more I started to taste the chocolate as the toothpaste flavor dissipated. It had been two years since I last tasted anything chocolate. It was good, the smooth taste of cocoa. The sweetness of refined sugar. And the bitterness of a fuck-load of calories. Each mouthful I swallowed became heavier, moving down my throat as if coated with sandpaper.

  Neon frowned. “You must be the only woman in the entire fucking world who doesn’t like chocolate.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like it.” I chewed some more. “I had a bad experience once which ended with undigested chocolate pieces on my parents’ front lawn.”

  “Oh,” she nodded, “kind of like the experience I had with vodka which ended with pieces of undigested spaghetti on my bedroom floor.”

  I stilled, my stomach giving a violent churn. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “Like that.”

  We heard footsteps coming from the stairs, and Neon grabbed the empty wrappers from my hand. “It’s been swell, Swan Lake.” She rushed to the door, but just as she reached to close it, Granite appeared, towering over her like Goliath. Neon was taller than I was, but she was nowhere near as tall as the hulking biker.

  Neon smiled. “Have a good run?”

  Granite glanced from her to me. People said eyes were the windows of the soul, but not his. It couldn’t be. If it were, his soul was as dark and wicked as the glare in his green eyes. Malevolent. Sinful. Golden specks of immorality.

  My breath hitched, and thick mucus that still tasted like chocolate caught in the back of my throat, choking me.

  Granite took the empty chocolate wrappers from Neon’s hands. “Leave.” He was talking to her even though his eyes remained pinned on me. Neon didn’t hesitate. She just shot me a look as if to say, ‘Good luck, Swan Lake,’ then left.

  After she left, his big frame blocked the open door. He reached up, dragging a hand down his beard, and that was when I saw it. Blood. His hand was covered in it, dried blood stuck on his cuticles. My gaze slipped down. There were splatters of blood on his jeans, his shoes, and it sent a blast of horror through my insides. The sight of him demanded fear strong enough to split my spine in half.

  A half-smile started at the corner of his mouth, making it seem like my fear amused him. As if he knew the sight of him covered in blood turned my body cold.

  “Still think you know who I am, ballerina girl?”

  Dizziness dug its claws into my head, nausea tightening around my stomach.

  Please don’t throw up. Please don’t throw up.

  I threw up.

  Chapter Eleven

  Granite

  The look on her face was priceless. Her skin was already naturally pale. The sight of blood on my hands and clothing turned her complexion to a ghostly white. It didn’t require rocket science to know she was about to vomit. Even if I wasn’t covered in blood, the two chocolate bars Neon made her eat would have done the trick on its own.

  I watched silently as she hurled, her body jerking as it rid itself of the four hundred calories she just shoved down her throat.

  Alyx kept vomiting until there was nothing left and she started to dry-heave. I leaned against the doorframe. “You should have eaten the salad.”

  “Screw you,” she spat, hands on her knees and hunched over.

  I walked in and shut the door. “You know, for a woman who’s in the position you are, you sure know how to dig yourself a deeper hole by talking shit.”

  “That’s funny because from where I’m standing,” she stood straight, “it doesn’t seem like the hole can get any deeper.”

  I looked at the black t-shirt she had on and frowned. “Apparently, my babysitter has a sense of humor.”

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand then took a seat on the bed. Her hair was wet, and judging by the sharp scent of vanilla and soap, I’d guess Neon had her take a shower. Pity the pungent stench of vomit was starting to ruin it.

  I glanced at the vomit on the floor then back at her. “It’s a shame mommy wasn’t here to see it.”

  Her eyes n
arrowed. “What?”

  “She would’ve been real glad to see her pretty little ballerina purge herself of some unwanted calories.”

  By the way she glowered at me from underneath those thick, dark lashes, I could practically feel the hate she was directing at me. “You don’t know me, so stop pretending you do.”

  “Remember my warning, ballerina girl.” I took a step closer. “Do not think you can fuck with me. You’ll lose.”

  She stood from the bed, hardly tall enough to be intimidating. Neon’s shirt was way too big, the pair of jeans nowhere close to hugging the curves she didn’t even have. “I don’t think I have much more to lose here.”

  I cocked a brow. She thought she left enough distance between us, but I reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her right up to me, proving her wrong. Her breath escaped with a huff, her neck leaning back as she stared up at me. I had to be a fucking psycho because not even the putrid smell of chocolate vomit could keep my cock from getting hard for her.

  My grip around her arm tightened, and she didn’t fight me. She didn’t even try. She was like a meek lamb in my grasp, just waiting to see what I’d do next.

  I grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of her neck and pulled her head back even more with a violent tug. The most titillating yelp left her lips, and it shot all the way through my insides, slamming against the head of my cock.

  Letting go of her arm, I cupped her between her legs, gripping her pussy through the denim jeans. “Oh, you still have something to lose, all right. Something I’m hellbent on taking.”

  With parted lips and rapidly blinking eyes, she stared up at me in fear. But there was something else hiding in the blue swirls of her irises, giving me the same feeling I got whenever she stared at me from her bedroom window. It gnawed at my bones, an exhilarating feeling of desire that made my groin ache. That was the best part of our midnight visits to the commissioner’s house, the desire she managed to radiate from two fucking floors up. It was toxic, yet addictive. Every goddamn time it felt the same. Powerful. Sinful. Bewitching. And every night I looked up at the girl in the window, I knew the day would come that my addiction to it would ruin me. Now, while I looked into her eyes, it warned me the time was nearing. My ruin was approaching fast.