Jase closes the door to the balcony with a heavy thud. “She hasn’t stopped whining about how much she missed you for the entire day,” he snarls at his father. “Next time, I’m going to gag her.”
Dornan breaks out into peals of laughter that reverberate against my chest and make my insides fill with dread. He tilts my head up and kisses me, the longest, most passionate kiss I’ve experienced from him. It still doesn’t even mildly compare to the intensity of the fleeting kisses Jase and I shared.
It isn’t even in the same fucking universe.
Dornan breaks away from me, and I catch my breath, avoiding Jase’s stare. “I gotta shower,” he says. “Been on that bike for too fucking long. You,” he stabs a finger into my chest, “ better meet me in there in five.”
He plants one last lingering kiss on my mouth before turning and walking into the bathroom. A moment later, I hear the shower running.
“You’re an excellent actress,” Jase says behind me, every word measured and deliberate. I turn, wiping the back of my hand against my mouth—wiping Dornan away. Jase’s eyes are cold, his arms folded across his chest as he studies me, the look of disgust on his face impossible to miss. I am deeply troubled that he is already seeing through the façade that Dornan is oblivious to, but at the same time, I am secretly relieved. Because if he knows it’s a lie, maybe he’ll still want me, as crazy and fucked-up as that sounds.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say softly, letting my hand drop to my side.
He just shakes his head, his hands balled up into angry fists, and storms out of the room.
I hear a rattle of keys, the front door slams loudly, and my heart sinks as I realize Jase is gone.
I make it the longest five minutes possible before I slip out of my T-shirt and hobble slowly into the bathroom to join Dornan under the shower. He smiles as he sees me, his gaze going to the crudely stitched wound on my thigh. “I’m sorry, baby girl,” he says, kneeling down on the tiles, inspecting the new row of stitches his doctor has professionally installed in my leg. He runs his fingers along it oh-so-gently, before tightening his grip on the back of my knees, forcing me to spread my legs wider so I don’t fall over. He plants a soft kiss on my sensitive nub, his breath against my skin making me squirm.
He rises, taking the time to suck on my hardened nipple before standing straight again. I shiver, grasping his hard biceps as he grinds himself against me.
“Get on your knees, baby girl.”
A sense of panic rises in my belly. “I can’t,” I whisper. “My leg—”
Frustration flashes across his features briefly, his black eyes burning into mine. His eyes flick down to my stab wound before settling back on my face.
“Pain is good,” he says, his hands squeezing my neck tight before releasing me again. A warning. “Remember? Pain means I fucking own you.”
I nod reluctantly.
“Say it.”
“You own me.”
“Why?”
Remember Chad. Remember who you are. I smile.
“Because I’m yours.”
“You’re goddamn right, you’re mine. Now get on your fucking knees.”
He holds my weight as I kneel slowly and with difficulty, my leg screaming with fresh pain that radiates to my extremities and makes me want to hurl.
I feel a couple stitches pop open and glance down to see thin rivulets of blood break free and slide down my leg, diluted by the warm water. The scene revitalizes me. Today, I’ll give my blood for him, and one day soon, he’ll give his blood for me.
Now,” he says smugly, pressing the tip of his hard cock against my lips. “Show me how much you missed me.”
Jase was right. I am an excellent actress.
I open my mouth, and I lie.
Thirteen
After our shower, Dornan takes me back to the clubhouse on the back of his bike.
Riding with Dornan just feels wrong. I don’t feel free in the wind; I feel trapped, like a butterfly encased in glass. Fluttering my wings feebly, only to keep hitting them on my invisible fortress.
Only this fortress of mine is of my own making.
I shouldn’t complain. But I’m impatient. It’s been almost a month and so far I’ve killed Chad, kissed Jase twice and screwed Dornan enough times to make my head whirl. I wonder what my father would think of me right now, and then I squash that thought, because he’d be horrified. He’d be beside himself.
His little girl killing, and fucking, and lying.
It still kills me when I think that he died trying to save me from this life.
***
A week passes with no nasty surprises and no stabbings. Just a lot of sitting in Dornan’s room, waiting for him to be there, and a lot of laying on my back, being fucked. Every day of my life is starting to feel exactly the same, a veritable groundhog day for vengeful whores.
I learn to bite my tongue and not answer back, as impossible as it is for me. Jase is barely around, and when he is, he won’t look me in the eye.
That makes me very, very sad.
I am laying on Dornan’s bed one afternoon, headphones in, bopping my head, listening to the Revenge playlist that Elliot made for me. I’m at “These Boots are made for walkin’” when Dornan bursts in to the room, yelling into his phone.
“It was fucking them!” I hear him growl into the phone, his low voice reverberating in the confined space. “I saw their warehouse. Barrels of pure meth stacked to the ceiling, and they’re the ones importing this shit through the shipping yards.”
I turn down the music, intrigued, but continue to bop my head like I can’t hear anything he’s saying.
“They’re our enemies. Of course they want to fuck me over.”
The person on the other end of the phone says something and Dornan seems placated for the moment.
“Tomorrow we ride,” he says. “Assholes think they can fuck with my kid? My club? I’ll burn that motherfucking warehouse to the ground with them in it.”
He throws the phone down, his entire body tensed. I remove my headphones and slide them under my pillow, along with my pink iPhone. He’s seen it, knows I have it, but I don’t flash it around in case he tries to take it from me.
He sits on the end of the bed and pulls his black boots off, dropping them by his feet. I slide over, placing my hand on the back of his leather cut, testing his reaction.
When he doesn’t push me away, I crawl onto his lap and straddle him, running my fingers through his short black hair. My leg is much better and though it still hurts when I move like this, it’s bearable.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, turning my head to the side a little. I stare straight into his dark brown eyes, almost the same color as his pupils, and I’m struck by how different they look to Jase’s. The colors are all the same, but the look in their eyes is poles apart. One says gentle, and the others scream predator.
I put my hand between us, rubbing the spot where Dornan would normally be hard at the mere sight of me. But today he’s not, he’s too distracted and he is the one with revenge on his mind. He pulls my hand away and lets it fall between us, smiling.
“You’re a doll, trying to make me feel better.”
I shrug. “You can talk to me, you know,” I say. “I can listen as well as fuck.”
He laughs, and for once the sound is light, without intent. It’s…normal. I am shaken as I try to assign that seemingly innocent laugh with the monster lurking inside.
Don’t ever let your guard down, I think to myself. Last time he was sweet the fucker stabbed you.
“I’m sorry about your leg,” he says, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “It was a bad day. Burying Chad…you’re not supposed to bury your own kids, you know? They’re supposed to bury you.”
Wait… he’s apologizing? To me?
I nod, suppressing a smile. “I know.” I’ll bury you, no problem.
“What did Mariana do that was so bad?” I ask him.
He sighs. “Bitch t
ried to take my son and leave. Fucked my best friend. Stole enough fuckin’ money from this club to ruin us.”
So she was having an affair with my father.
“I’ll never do to you what she did, Dornan.”
I’ll do worse.
He runs his hand through my hair, his mind elsewhere, and I smirk as I realize what he’s yet to confirm.
I’ve got him.
The son of a bitch is starting to love me.
“Pack a bag, baby girl,” Dornan says abruptly. “A couple days we’ll be gone. You’re riding with me, and when we get there you’ll be riding me with that sweet pussy of yours.”
I fight the innate urge to roll my eyes and smile instead. “We’re going on a trip?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t offer anything more, and I don’t dare ask where, even though I’m dying to know. I hate surprises.
“Should I pack for cold, or hot?” I ask, hoping the question is neutral enough. “I want to look nice for you.”
“Hot,” he says. “We’re going inland.”
Right. It’s a big fucking country. We’re going east somewhere, I guess. That’s a lot of states.
“Baby girl.”
“Yeah?”
Put something pretty on. One of those dresses of yours that shows your titties off. Tomorrow we ride, but tonight, we party. Maxi’s birthday’s tomorrow.”
“What did you get him?” I ask.
A slow smile spreads across his evil face and I see that glint in his eye that always means trouble.
“I got him two virgins,” he says. “Never been fucked before.”
“Wow” I say, smiling even as my heart drops and I die a little more inside. “You’re a generous daddy.”
He fists my hair roughly, his lips touching my cheek. “I need something from you, too, baby girl.”
My stomach roils.
“Anything for you,” I say sweetly.
“These girls, they’ve got zero experience. And Maxi…he’s impatient. I was thinking you could be there to…guide them, I suppose.”
My eyes light up. “Of course. What a great idea.”
It’s a fucking brilliant idea. My smile is so big that I’m worried my face might break.
“You’re such a good daddy,” I say, staring up into his face. “I’ll give him the best birthday he’s ever had.”
I think of the package Elliot got for me, wrapped in cellophane and tied with twine.
I think of how I’m going to take Maxi so high, he’s going to come crashing back down to earth in a cataclysm of blood and pain.
“It’ll be beautiful,” I whisper against his chest.
Fourteen
The party that I’ve only just heard about is in full swing down the hall when I enter the large communal room that houses the bar. I’m wearing one of my burlesque costumes, complete with lace underwear, suspenders, a fitted corset, and patent heels. All black.
I am the angel of death tonight, after all.
Something flashes in Dornan’s eyes when he sees me sashay into the room.
Jealousy. Dominance. Pride.
I belong to him in his mind, and though it makes him proud to show me off to everyone, it also irritates him. In his mind, even letting me out here in these scant clothes must be a massive thing and something he’s probably only doing to cheer up Maxi, who is devastated by Chad’s demise. The two were like best friends, and it seems fitting that after tonight, they’ll be buried in the family plot side-by-side.
It’s been the longest two weeks of my life since Chad bit the big one and seizured out on the floor of the garage. I’ve been fucked and stabbed by an enemy, kissed by one ex-lover and cradled close by another. I’ve lost blood and almost considered running away, but tonight, my resolve is unwavering.
It’s poetic justice that the same day Maxi entered the world twenty-eight years ago, the day he was laid on his mother’s chest and took his first breath, is the day he’ll be leaving it. And while everyone around me is celebrating another year of life, my curled-up lips are smug with the certainty that this night will mark his final breath.
I wind my way through a throng of twenty-something guys wearing leather cuts, drinking beers, and talking in an animated fashion.
Dornan is standing with Maxi and Jazz when I approach him. As soon as I’m in reaching distance, he pulls me aside, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Remember,” he hisses, “You’re not to fuck him or touch him. Right?”
“Right,” I say, winking at him. “I’ll school those little girls on how to give a man a good time.”
“Good girl,” he says, patting my head. “I’ll see you later—for this.” He grabs my hand and places it on his hard-on. I smile and squeeze it a little. “I’ll be quick,” I say. “An hour, tops.”
He nods. “Get those bitches ready. I’ll send him down in ten. I want him to have a good birthday, you hear?”
“Loud and clear,” I say, stepping away from him and back out into the hallway. I make my way down to the third bedroom on the left and knock softly before entering. I close the door firmly behind me and look around.
Dornan’s already told the girls to wait in Maxi’s bedroom, a square box identical to Dornan’s room. Even the bed is in the same spot. Two girls sit on the edge, smoking cigarettes, their makeup woefully overdone and their clothes disturbingly tight. One blonde, one brunette. My breath catches in my throat as I see they’re kids, definitely not legal, and without the slightest idea of the hell they’ve just signed up for.
There is a wooden chair in the corner, complete with arms. It’ll be perfect for my needs. I pull it out and sit in front of them, crossing my legs languidly, my arm draped over the side of the chair.
“Names?” I ask, staring pointedly from one girl to the other.
The left one, the more confident one judging by her body language, clears her throat. “Anna.”
I nod and look at the other one, my eyebrows raised.
“Melody,” the brunette says flatly, narrowing her eyes at me.
“How old are you girls?” I ask. “It’s imperative that you’re honest with me.”
“Sixteen,” they say in unison.
“And you’re virgins?” I ask.
They both nod.
“And you’re here to have sex?”
They both shrug and nod.
My eyes drift to the window, which is barred from the outside just like the rest of them.
I wish it wasn’t.
I’d kick these two girls out of the window and call their mothers to come get them.
Then again, if they’re in a place like this, maybe they’ve got mothers like mine.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask them. “This isn’t a romantic place, you know. These guys won’t stop once they’ve started. It’s going to hurt.”
The confident blonde looks at her friend who shrugs in response.
“We drank some vodka before we got here,” she says. “We’ll be okay.”
I sigh. “Don’t you want your first time to be with someone special? The person you’re going to marry?”
“What the fuck, old lady?” the brunette says, and I have to give her props for speaking up, even if the term old lady makes me cringe. “We know what we want, and I sure as fuck don’t want to get married to anybody, so quit trying to save us.”
“We want this,” the blonde adds, slurring her words slightly. “Maxi is hot. And he’s a Gypsy Brother. If he wants to fuck me, let’s go.”
I nod. They’ve made it abundantly clear that they want to have sex with him, and that all I’m doing is standing in their way. Great. Now that I know I can’t stop them, they may as well be a part of my plan.
“Come on then,” I say, standing and motioning for them to follow me. “We need to get you ready for the birthday boy.”
I enter the bathroom and turn to wait as they follow me in. Pushing the door to, I fumble in my bra and pull out two white tablets that I’d been keeping in my suitcase for a
n occasion such as this.
“Who wants to go first?” I ask. The brunette steps forward, surprising me. “Mousey brown,” I say. “Nice one. Open your mouth.”
She does as she’s told and I press one of the tablets onto her tongue. She swallows immediately, unafraid.
“Now both of you, strip,” I say. “Down to your underwear.”
I’m acting all confident but I absolutely HATE this. I want to send these girls home. I want them to go to school, go on innocent dates, have slumber parties, and braid each other’s hair.
“Have either of you even seen a dick before?” I ask casually, leaning against the bathroom counter.
The blonde gives me a look so cutting, it’d slice me in half. “What the fuck? Is this a test? I’ve sucked more cock than you’ve ever seen, old lady. But I’ve been saving myself for the right guy…and Maxi treats me right. He’s a good guy.”
The brunette looks at me, horrified. “Are you his old lady or something?”
“What?” I say sharply. “No.”
“Then why the interrogation? We’re here to have fun and pop our biker cherries.”
I clamp my lips shut in resignation.
There’s a knock at the door and I hear Maxi’s voice. “What fucking present?” I hear him boom. The brunette leaps out of the bathroom before I can even open my mouth to tell her to be careful.
Not that it’ll make any difference, I think.
These girls are so stupid. I want to shake sense into them. But I can’t—I am selfish and I’m thinking of myself.
“Happy birthday,” I hear her say to him.
Fifteen
I want to vomit, but I can’t. These stupid bitches are here willingly. I want to stop this, but I can’t.
These girls want this, I remind myself. They have come here of their own accord and are actually excited at the prospect of being deflowered by a biker, or maybe a bunch of bikers.
Idiots.
I hover in the bathroom with the blonde, watching through the slit in the door as Maxi straddles the now naked brunette. That didn’t take long. He takes his erect cock and lays it on her stomach, the tip of it ending just below her bellybutton.
“Oh, honey,” he says, forcing her legs wider and positioning himself at her entrance. “Did you see how big I am on you? This is gonna hurt.”
Six Brothers (Gypsy Brothers, #2) Page 7