by J. L. Drake
What?
“But…”
“I would have said anything to get you as far away from that man as possible. You think I scare you, times that by ten.”
“But I heard you killed him.”
He broke eye contact and shook his head. “I’m still trying to figure that out.”
Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.
He cursed and looked back at me; his eyes held so much emotion. “You’ve seen many sides of me, Tess, and accepted me in spite of it all. But the hole that opened in me when I saw my father standing there, still with a heartbeat, did something to me I can’t explain. When you showed up, I had to get you away from him. He may have looked like a man of the Church, but believe me, he is wicked fuckin’ Satan underneath. We might share demons, darlin’, but mine would seriously hurt you.”
I stepped into him, unable to stop myself. Trigger, raw with words, was indescribable. I reached up to show my intent and ran my hand over his cheek. His eyes bore through me. I knew we were both shitty at the intimacy part, but I wanted to show I heard him. I wanted to show him I was trying.
“You…” He stumbled and tried again with a harsher tone. “You are the last person I would want to hurt.”
“Okay.”
He nodded once but kept his hand locked around my arm as if I grounded him.
“Do you still love him?” he blurted, and my hand dropped away.
I fought with the wall that wanted to shoot up.
“We have a history, Trigger.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know.” I took a sip of my coffee and backed up. Surprisingly, he let me go.
“He killed your best friend. How are you going to tell me you still love him?”
He was right. I was sure I didn’t, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t say the words.
“I need to go.”
He blocked my path just as Brick, who no doubt was eavesdropping, came into the room.
“Tess,” he said, “I really don’t think you should go back. Let us figure out what Clark has on the club, and we’ll deal with it.”
“How?” I felt wrung out.
“We know people.”
“I need my stuff.” It was true; I did. I wanted my camera more than anything else.
Trigger’s annoyance was evident. “Stuff can be replaced.”
“Stuff has memories for me, Trigger. I don’t have many things, and the few I have, I want to keep.” I rubbed my head, not sure where to go from here. “Give me the weekend, at least, to get my stuff.”
Trigger glanced at Brick, and they exchanged some kind of thought.
“Guys, I can’t leave Venna there, not without an explanation. She was, after all, the one who saved me from working the house. She kept me from having to sleep with countless men.” That wasn’t entirely true. I was sure I would have left before that happened, but I knew it would hit Trigger hardest.
“No,” Trigger ordered, and when I began to protest, he cut me off. “I’ll drive you there, so you can get your stuff and talk to your friend, then we’ll meet Brick here and leave for Santa Monica tonight.”
“Tess,” Brick took my hand in his, “do this for me.”
Fuck.
“You play dirty.”
He beamed when he knew he had me.
“First, I need to buy some new clothes.”
Brick went behind the bar and handed me a bag. “Something from home.”
I peeked inside and smiled.
***
Although I slept well at the hotel, it did nothing for my head space. In fact, it tossed me right back to street survival mode. I peeled my tired body off the leather seat of the Lexus and stood on heavy feet. Trigger eyed me cautiously as he rounded the car and steered me inside.
“You okay?”
I nodded, but I was nowhere close.
He came up next to me, and I whirled around, confused.
“You can’t come inside. Clark knows your face.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No.” I cringed. “They’ll kill you, or they might release the information.”
He shrugged and nodded toward the house, urging me forward.
“Hey,” I grabbed his arm and felt the warmth that came with my touch, “you may not care, but I do.”
He licked his lips. I knew it was hard for him to put himself in another’s shoes. That was the problem with giving a fuck, but I was serious.
“I may not care about myself, but I…” He rubbed the back of his head as if he were annoyed.
“Fine,” I huffed and headed up the stairs. “Stubborn ass.”
He chuckled behind me, which only made me more pissed off. Just to add fuel to the fire, he reached forward and opened the door and waved me on.
Oh, sure, now you’re a gentleman.
Gilbert stepped in front of Trigger and asked him to spread his arms.
“Gilbert, let him pass.”
“You know the rules, Tessa.”
I glanced at him, worried, as he felt Trigger’s jacket, waistband, legs, and ankles. The entire time, I witnessed the battle in his head. I wanted to help, but I didn’t want to draw attention to us either.
“All clear. Have a good day, sir.”
I pointed to the bar. “Give me twenty, and I’ll meet you here.”
He shook his head, but when he realized I wasn’t going to budge, he backed down.
“You have ten before I come find you myself.”
Each step up the stairs ignited my anger further. Flashes of Mags made their way into my head, and as I glanced over my shoulder at the living room, something snapped inside. I unlocked my bedroom door and grabbed my stuff then landed on my bed in a heap of confusion.
Nothing was making sense. All I could focus on was Mags. Her body—her limp body—being tossed around by people I once thought I knew and cared about.
I cringed away from the mirror and hated what looked back at me.
Emptiness.
I fingered the handle on the night table and pushed the papers aside. I felt the smooth blade and drew it free, looked at it, then held it tightly by my side.
Hatred consumed me from my very core, and I rose in a weightless stance.
I made my way cautiously out of my bedroom. My steps never wavered as my subconscious pointed me in the right direction. I felt like I had been drugged; my body operated on its own.
I had lost control.
I turned a corner and heard footsteps but didn’t care. I pushed on. Someone raced across the hall but didn’t notice me. It was, after all, a house that never slept. Just sex, booze, and endless amounts of money.
My feet barely lifted off the carpet as one moved in front of the other. I was numb all over.
The dark cherry-wood door was locked, but I knew just how to wiggle the handle to get it to open. Once I heard the release of the pin, I took a deep breath, and with an internal kick to the gut, I gave it a turn and stepped out of the light and into the dark.
Little lights that shone no brighter than the moon lit the crisp, white sheets of their bed and his outline. The smell of sex was still in the air, and I searched for her clothes but couldn’t spot them.
Hmm.
I knew my mother well enough to know that whenever she got some, she’d have her smoke in her office and finish up her paperwork for the day. She wouldn’t be interrupting us.
The blade tapped my bare leg, a reminder of why I was there.
At the foot of the bed, I came to a stop, pulled up my sleeves, and like a cat, crawled over his body. Using my knees to support my weight, I lifted the knife, but he must have felt me, and his erection bumped my thigh. The cool sheet brushed over my legs and made my skin heat with lust and rage.
Stab.
Stab.
Stab.
Mags’s lifeless face appeared in front of me and turned to look at me right before they rolled her up in the carpet. Disposable, just like he was.
I stabbed
again and twisted the blade roughly through his flesh to tear it at the roots. There was barely any struggle as I sliced at his soul the way he did mine.
Stab.
Stab.
Stab.
I couldn’t see where he began, there was so much blood. My legs slipped around as I attacked more of him. Years of pent-up rage poured out of me in my blind state of mind.
It felt so good. So right.
I swore I felt Mags by my side, fueling me on.
Stab.
Stab.
With the knife in the air, I froze and jolted back and stumbled to my feet. It was as if someone suddenly pressed pause on a movie. I slapped my free hand over my mouth as I focused on the bed.
It was Bret.
Then it hit me. My mother suspected Clark was sleeping with someone else. I just never thought it was Bret!
Oh, fuck.
His naked body drained of blood quickly, and I was stuck in a fucking loop. What the fuck just happened?
I heard a sound and headed for the other door. I slipped and slammed into the dresser but managed to pull myself up and out of sight.
My ankle throbbed as I jolted out the door and down the hallway, holding the bloody knife with flesh still stuck to the blade.
My heart and lungs fought for room, and my stomach crept into my throat.
Slam!
I heard a stifled scream as someone pulled me upright and practically pushed me into my room and shut the door behind us.
“What the hell, Tess?” Venna jumped away from my bloody form. “Oh, my God. What did you do?”
“I-I…” I couldn’t think quickly enough. “I killed.”
“Killed who?” She grabbed the sheet off my bed and covered my shaking body while I stood like a zombie.
I couldn’t seem to make myself answer, so she pushed me aside and frantically looked around. She spotted my phone on the side table and scrolled through it.
A flicker of light pulled my attention, and I caught the mirror again, only this time I stood straighter and stared directly into my own eyes. The knife still dangled from my fingertips, and I saw someone else looking back at me. A stronger me, not the me who always seemed to go dormant when I was here.
“Shit, Tess, where is Matt’s number?”
Boom! The door burst open, and there was Trigger, lookin’ fit to kill. He ran his eyes down my bloody body and quickly locked the door behind him.
He looked at Venna. “Tell me what you know.”
“Nothing. She just slammed into me in the hallway, and I pulled her in here.”
“Tess,” he shook my shoulders, and I slowly met his eyes, “whose blood is this?”
“B-Bret’s,” I stammered.
Venna gasped behind me, and Trigger nodded, cool as could be.
“Is there a back way out of here?”
“Yeah, south side by the pool.”
“In five minutes, make your way there, and I’ll be in a blacked-out Lexus. Find me.” Trigger dipped low to eye me one last time before he left.
Venna shoved the knife into my bag along with a few of my belongings and covered my bloody clothes with a clean, plush robe.
“No time to clean.” Her hands shook as she turned me around and pushed me out the door and into the hallway.
Instead of going downstairs, she took us through the back way.
“It’s okay, we’re okay,” Venna kept repeating.
Is it? I couldn’t help but smirk at the power surge that raced through my core.
“Tess!” Clark’s voice boomed through my head, and my veins froze solid.
No. Venna looked like she might pass out.
“Tess, where are you going, and what the shit happened to you?” He reached for me, and I pulled out Big Joe’s gun and pointed it at him.
“Tess!” Venna screamed but remained by my side. “What are you doing?”
“Give it to me!” I pictured the smooth steel of the knife slicing through his blue shirt and into his murderous heart. A heart I once loved.
“Give you what?” His hands were in the air.
I pointed the gun to his pocket, and he glared.
Come on, Clark. I know you’re in there somewhere.
“No.”
There he was. Clark had two personalities. Sweet and pricky.
“Does Mom know?” I tilted my head as I tapped into my new, wonderful state of mind. “Does she know you sleep with the man-whores of the house too?”
He did a double take then it clicked for him—the blood, my mood, us escaping.
“Tess,” he started to move, but I raised the gun to his head, “I will give you one chance here to do the right thing.” He sounded as though he was talking to a child, and that pissed me off further.
“It was you I came for.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to do it, Tess.” He seemed so sure of himself.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
I relished the moment. My moment.
Clark’s face changed, and his knees wobbled as though he was about to fall to the floor. He looked over his shoulder for a split second, and I took that moment to crack him over the head with the butt of the gun.
Down he went.
“Jesus Christ!” Venna nearly shouted. She watched as I dug in his pocket and grabbed his keys. “We have to go!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me out the side door to where Trigger was waiting.
As soon as we left the gates, the severity of what happened hit me like a brick.
“Don’t check out on me, Tess.” She touched my arm carefully in the one place the robe wasn’t stained with blood. “I don’t know him, and he terrifies me a little.”
Her words didn’t register. I couldn’t stop shaking, my vison faded in and out, and my lungs couldn’t get enough air.
I couldn’t say how long we drove. Maybe fifteen minutes, just enough time for my head to freak out in loops of excitement, power, and full-blown panic.
When we arrived at the Wynn, Trigger pulled me to my feet. Venna followed with all my stuff. I was rushed into an elevator and felt my stomach roll as the smell of dried blood hit my senses hard.
Before I could say anything to Brick, who looked horrified, Trigger pushed me inside the bedroom and straight to the bathroom.
He ran the water and peeled my blood-soaked clothes off piece by piece.
I couldn’t look at him, and he didn’t look at me. He just kept himself busy until I was naked.
He ran his huge hands up my legs and around my body, checking to see if any of the blood was mine.
I couldn’t help but feel the sick spark that we shared whenever anything like this happened between us, and by the way his hands flexed over my stomach, he felt it too.
“Get in,” he grunted and pulled back the curtain.
I did as he told me, but mostly because I wanted Bret off me.
***
Trigger
Her blank expression told me she wasn’t all there. The water beat off her face, and she opened and closed her mouth as if she was washing away the taste.
I stripped off my shirt, boots, and socks, and pulled the door open to step in. The water pounded my jeans and plastered them to my legs as I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face me.
“Lean back,” I ordered and helped move her sticky hair under the spray. As gently as I could, I lathered the soap, coated her scalp, and massaged her head. “That feeling,” I lowered my voice, “you’ll get used to it.”
She closed her eyes to shut out the hurt. The corners of her mouth lowered, and her chin exposed her true feelings. But she didn’t break, which I admired. Tess was strong at times I wouldn’t think she’d be.
“Arms.” I tapped them once to get her to raise them. I moved the soapy puffy-fucking-thing all over her body to remove any sign of that man-whore that was left on her skin.
“I may have to patch you in,” I joked.
Her eyes eased open, and I saw a hint of pride flicker across her lips.<
br />
“I’ll get you something to wear.” I stepped out and let her have a few moments alone.
“What the fuck happened to her?” Brick nearly tripped over his own feet when I came into the common area of the penthouse. His bowl of Cheerios stank like beer. I really wished he’d stick to one or the other.
I spotted Venna standing by the window. Her arms were wrapped around her, and she appeared deep in thought.
No doubt wondering how much shit she was in.
“Drink?” I held up a bottle of whiskey.
“No.” She shook her head. “Got any vodka?”
I nodded at Brick to take over while I checked my phone.
“Tell me about Bret?” I asked over my shoulder.
Brick handed Venna a drink, and she took a sip and coughed. “He’s…” She coughed again. Brick mixed a strong drink. “He’s an asshole, although they all are. He’s had it out for Tess forever. He keeps begging her mother for a threesome. If it was anyone but Tess, they’d have done it. Felicia is the freakin’ devil stuck on a pair of legs. Well, a pair of freakin’ good legs.” She giggled darkly. “That’s where Tess gets her looks. I think her father was some piece of shit who owned the strip joint her mom worked at…”
I tuned her out. Fuck me, I asked one simple question. I glanced at the bedroom door and waited for Tess to show herself.
“Why do you think Tess killed Bret?” Brick tried to force her back on track.
“She didn’t mean to kill him. No,” she corrected. “Tess and I ran into Clark on the way downstairs.”
That caught my attention.
I whirled around and waited for her to go on. Her eyes widened as she stumbled over her own words.
“Tess made it very clear to Clark that she meant to go for him. Now she knows Clark was banging Bret, and she threatened to out him. He got pissed, but when he started to freak out, Tess hit him over the head with the gun.” She shook her head. “All gangster style.” She stopped herself. “No offense.”