by P. Jameson
Now she didn’t even have the shitty food she was served and the thought made him want to murder someone.
Goddamn it… he’d said her name. The other dolls must have noticed. But even if they didn’t, his mistake was caught on video.
He’d been so desperate to get her out from under that goddamn bed so she could eat that he’d slipped up. Now his mind was racing to do damage control. How could he keep her safe now? What was the right thing to do?
Run with her. His mind screamed for him to get her out, fuck the plan his clan had come up with to free the other Dolls from Bastian’s control. Just take Vegas and leave with her out the back. Get in his truck and ride the fuck out of this messed up city. Take her somewhere private. Somewhere no one could find them. Go off the grid like Malcom had. And just… heal.
The idea was a burning ember in his gut.
Just him and her. Just existing. She didn’t like him. Didn’t know he was only pretending to be one of Bastian’s henchmen. Couldn’t even look at him. And he didn’t blame her. He was an ugly motherfucker. His father had made sure of that.
But it didn’t matter what he looked like. He could keep her safe. And instinctually, he knew that doing so would heal him inside where he was so broken.
Saving her would save him.
Just like Ratchet when he cared for Marlee.
Monster ground his molars together in frustration.
He wanted the Firecat that Ratchet and Malcom kept in their bodies. If he had that, he would burn fucking Bastian to the ground for every horrible thing he’d done to the Dolls. He’d make him fucking ash, and then take Vegas out of this hellhole and give her things that made her smile.
Ratchet did that for Marlee. Made her smile so much Monster felt sick inside at the sight. Not because he was disgusted by it like Fang and Felix and some of the others. But because he wanted to be that powerful. He’d never needed love. Not really. And didn’t want it now. But to make a woman smile instead of cringe… laugh instead of cry… that would make his entire fucking life.
But goddamn it, he’d yelled at her. Scared her because he was desperate to cover up his mistake. Scaring her was worth it to keep her safe, sure. He’d do anything. Now, he just needed to know if she was okay, or if he’d only made things worse.
He could see for himself if he turned and looked. The darkness wasn’t as easy to see through as it used to be with the help of his feline eyes, but he could still see better than a human. One look at her face, and he’d know if he’d hurt her worse than she was already.
Except… if she wasn’t okay, if he’d done damage…
He wouldn’t be able to keep from scooping her up and running. Fuck, he’d never stop. Take her out of here, away from Bastian’s crime circuit, away from his own messed up clan, away from magic and curses and the sickness of the Alley Cat way of life.
Are you okay, my female? Did I hurt you? Tell me, please. He begged in his mind because he couldn’t with his mouth.
Still, she didn’t answer.
He was going to look. He’d look and if it meant betraying his brothers, then that’s what he’d do. He’d betray them and the Dolls and never regret it for a second.
He wasn’t a good man. Never had been. But he’d chosen her to do right by, and she was the only thing that mattered.
He swung around to face her.
“I’m okay,” she blurted, but it was too late. Monster was already face to face with his answer.
Big eyes, peeled wide. Pounding vein in her neck. Mouth pinched. Hands shaking so hard he doubted she could hold a fork even if Bastian would feed her.
She was scared. Of what was on the other side of the door, sure. But also… of Monster.
“I won’t hurt you,” he rasped out, his voice strangled by what he saw through the darkness. “Never gonna hurt you. Understand, female?”
Her eyes flitted all over his face, though he knew she could barely see him, and she shook her head, looking confused.
“Don’t fear me. I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to…” Save you.
No, that wasn’t right. He was here to save himself. Because the moment he saw her face in the photo Marlee dropped when she stumbled onto the Alley Cat property, he knew she was the one who could help him. Standing in the alley that day with Ratchet and Skittles, his hand had produced fire the moment he realized the woman in the picture, that woke up a new part of him, was in danger.
That fire was what would burn his past away. He’d known it then, he knew it now.
She was a salve he could use to heal his life, his past. All the things that hurt him, she was what would make it better.
He was a selfish bastard. Like they all were.
“To what?” Vegas whispered.
Monster couldn’t find words to answer her. Instead, he eased closer, trying to figure out how to make her see she was important. She backed against the wall to get away from him. He’d expected her to, and he didn’t stop. Just needed to get close enough so she could see into his eyes.
Vegas pressed flat against the wall, lids peeling wider, looking like a trapped animal. Like she was readying to fight him off.
“No,” she whimpered. “Please.”
She raised her hands in defense between them.
But he didn’t stop.
Monster pressed his palms against the wall near her head to keep from touching her. Because he wanted to so bad. Knew he couldn’t. Not because of Bastian’s stupid rules, but because touching her would ruin him before he even got her free.
She was frail. Her hair was brittle and discolored. Her skin was pallid and streaked with dirt from the floor where she liked to sleep. But he still wanted to touch her bad enough it made his mouth dry. Just to know she was real. That this miracle he’d found, that could make him feel inside again, was really real.
“No, no,” she breathed as if she could read his thoughts. Weakly she pushed at his chest, and when he didn’t budge, she pushed harder. And harder again until her small hands were beating at his t-shirt covered chest desperate to fend him off.
Shit. So scared.
Had he fucked up that bad?
Monster’s stomach twisted.
“Stop, Vegas.”
She didn’t. She pounded on, tears filling her lids in the dark.
The feel of her fighting him did odd things to his insides. It left him despairing even if it made him proud. And his bastard cock woke up beneath his belt. Not even because he wanted anything like that from her. It was like his body had a mind of its own when she was near. His dick paid attention every time she did something that made him proud.
“Shit, just let me show you,” he growled low. “Look at me.”
She stopped pushing him away and went stiff, tears rolling over onto her cheeks.
“Can you see me?” he asked roughly.
She nodded as more tears escaped.
Monster swallowed hard. This close, he was glad the light was dim enough she couldn’t see the details of his scars. It was pride, even though most of it had been ripped from him a long time ago. More than that, he needed her to focus on his words, not his flaws.
“Listen, snowflake. Okay? Listen.” Snowflake because she reminded him not all cold things were bad. And because she was delicate like one. It felt like she’d melt away to nothing if he touched her.
She nodded and Monster peeled one hand away from the wall to catch a tear that was hanging from her chin. He rubbed the wetness between his fingers, letting it brand him. It was a piece of her, and if he couldn’t touch her, this was a good substitute. But he wished he could promise to never make her cry again. He wished this could be the last of her tears she ever cried.
He looked back to her face, found her eyes, and gave her his oath. Made his female a promise he intended to keep or die trying. Because… she mattered.
It didn’t have to make sense. It didn’t have to feel good. It just was.
“I swear to never hurt you, and to never let you be hurt. O
n my life, I swear it.”
Her breath stalled in her chest. Her brows lowered over her eyes. Her mouth slid open and hung there.
“Understand?” His heart was hammering his rib cage but he ignored it. It didn’t mean anything except that he was desperate to fix his fuck-up.
Her eyes were searching his and making him want to look away. But not now. Not when he was trying to give his word.
Vegas shook her head.
She didn’t understand.
Did he say it wrong?
He opened his mouth to repeat his promise again. But she stopped him with a single word. “Why?”
Why.
Why, why, why?
He didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t expecting questions. He just wanted her to listen. And believe. So she’d quit being afraid of him.
Why.
Because she was his. Because she’d been in captivity long enough. Under Bastian’s cruel hand enough. Because the cold concrete wasn’t where she should be sleeping. Because she shouldn’t be hungry and frail. Because he saw the way she shivered, the way she was always cold.
Monster shivered involuntarily, his memory flickering with the past. In the freezer you go. Your animal needs distracting so it won’t try to heal your wounds, boy. Understand?
Because he saw in the depths of her gaze how she longed for more. The way he’d always longed for more. Because she was the answer to so many things. And because there was a whole world out there being kept just out of reach and it wasn’t fair that she was suffering. Because, because, because…
She wouldn’t understand any of those reasons or why they were important to him. She couldn’t. Because she thought he was the enemy.
Maybe he was.
Maybe he only cared because she gave him hope. Maybe.
Yeah, maybe that was all true.
So why? Why did he promise her protection?
Then it hit him. The perfect explanation. One word. Not everything he was feeling, but it would explain a lot. It would get his point across.
Monster stepped back, putting space between him and Vegas before he uttered his explanation. When he was sure she couldn’t see him anymore, when his eyes weren’t visible, he said, “Marlee.”
Vegas gasped, her mouth snapping shut at the mention of the Doll who’d escaped Bastian’s basement. The one who broke Ratchet’s curse. Put the Firecat in him. Gave him power again. Taught him to love. A miracle.
Like Vegas was.
The one Monster had pledged to help just as firmly as he’d pledged to protect Vegas.
Promises. He didn’t want to break any of them. But he’d fucked up good.
Now Bastian waited for Vegas in his office, there was video of Monster calling her a name he shouldn’t know, and she was so weak from hunger he didn’t know if she’d make it up the second flight of stairs.
Shit. Fuck.
If he got them out of this, it was going to be some kind of miracle.
Chapter Three
Vegas stood before the huge mahogany desk in Bastian’s excessively decorated office. From the looks of the place, you’d never know he was a crime boss. With shelves of expensive tomes and collectible antiques. Glass and wooden sculptures decorated one, and she knew behind it was a locked safe. One of many Bastian had hidden around his fortress. It was the one that held her life’s most precious details. The ones he held hostage for her cooperation.
They hardly mattered anymore. They weren’t worth what he demanded of her.
And she was here to prove it to him.
Vegas watched as Bastian sat back in his thick leather chair and steepled his forefingers over his lips. His wicked eyes pierced her, sending shivers of fear to her toes, and she bit down on her cheek, trying to make her body be still.
Be brave. It was the only way she was going to get through this. If she let her emotions get the best of her like she did in the hallway with Monster, Bastian would know he could break her.
As if he hadn’t already.
“Tears,” he said low, a hint of a smile twisting his cruel lips. “Why the tears, One?”
She knew he didn’t really want to know out of concern, but out of curiosity. Because he found these things entertaining. More than anything, he liked the control he had over her and the Dolls. He liked that they had no choice but to do his will.
Except she was here to show him he was wrong.
Vegas lifted her chin, preparing to answer. But Monster spoke up first.
“Gave me trouble,” he growled. “Didn’t want to come out from the bed. Had to force her.”
“Mm. Didn’t want to see your master, did you, doll?”
Master. The word made her want to puke. Which was mostly impossible since her system was empty of food.
“Answer me.”
She flinched at his boom. “No,” she rushed out.
Bastian’s lips slid into a smirk. “Can’t blame you, doll. After all, you’re in trouble. You’ve been a very bad girl. And you’ve been around here long enough to know what happens to bad girls.”
As threatening as his words were, Vegas was distracted by something else.
Monster. He stood behind her. Looming like he always did, and snarling probably too. But his breath was hard like he’d been running a marathon. Hard and fast and angry the way he’d been in the hallway.
But somehow… she didn’t think he was angry with her.
Not after what he promised.
Bastian’s voice switched from cruel to matter-of-fact in a heartbeat. “I need more product, girl. Understand? This is your job, and you’ll do it. Or pay.”
Be brave. For Marlee.
For yourself.
“No.”
Bastian’s face flipped from casual to coolly furious. Just as she’d known it would. He didn’t like being denied. But she pushed her shoulders back to let him know she hadn’t misspoke.
“What did you say?”
Vegas cleared her throat… swayed on her feet. She felt dizzy. “N-No… I won’t make more drugs for you.”
Bastian smiled. Like she was a petulant child he needed to ply. He stood slowly, rising to his full height which set him head and shoulders taller than her. He planted his fists squarely on the desktop and leaned in.
“You know I could find a million people to do your job. Cooking Ice, cutting H isn’t hard.”
But if she did it, he didn’t have to cut her a piece of the profit. Slave labor. That’s what she was. Twenty-four years old and she wasn’t free. She did dangerous things so she could sleep on the floor of this man’s basement. Because he wouldn’t let her go.
And if he did, where would she go? What would she do? The only skill she had was knowing the exact formula for separating and mixing the chemicals people paid big money to inject in their veins.
“I could pull a junkie off the street tomorrow and pay him in crystal. You’d be useless to me.” He snapped his fingers. “That fast.”
Vegas’s head spun. Black flashed over her vision.
“Then do it,” she whispered. “Find someone else.”
The air in the room was charged but it went quiet for a breath. A breath that washed over her like fresh air.
Like freedom. Just a taste.
Then everything exploded, her hint of freedom as fragile as a bubble, popped by a deadly finger.
Bastian straightened. “What did you say to me, girl?” His voice was quiet, but spit from his mouth like it tasted bad. “I want to be very clear I heard you right.”
Vegas somehow found his eyes and met them. Evil. Vile. He was hard to look at even after spending her entire life with him. But she did it, head spinning, feet swaying and all. This might be the last thing she did, and she wanted to get it right. She wanted to be proud for one moment in her sad, sick life.
One moment, and fuck the consequences.
“Find someone else.” She spoke clearly. “I won’t do it. Not anymore.”
As Bastian stared at her, fury lighting his e
yes up, she could see his control slipping. His mask slipping. His power failing.
And that was when she knew.
This was how Marlee won. How she beat the devil at his own game. She’d had nothing to lose. She’d been ready to die for her freedom if that’s what it took.
Words. Commands. Threats. Thundered from Bastian’s mouth but she didn’t hear any of it.
Vegas felt her lips curve upward. Not enough to be a smile, but it felt like one anyway. Inside, where everything counted more.
All this time, a captive. And all she’d needed to do to be free was hit rock bottom. Have nothing to live for. Nothing to hold her here. Be ready to risk everything.
Because when you reached that point, you could stand against the beast. You could say no, and it didn’t matter how he stomped and pounded, no matter how he screamed or how he lorded… he couldn’t win.
He couldn’t win.
Vegas swayed again, catching herself on the edge of Bastian’s desk.
He stopped his tirade, his face going blank as though he hadn’t just lost his temper. He narrowed his gaze on Vegas, but she didn’t look away. Not now. Not when she had all the power.
Finally.
But just like in the hallway, with Monster. Her small taste of power was met with something that broke her down.
Bastian stared past her shoulder to Monster. “She has until morning to change her mind. If she doesn’t…” His brutal gaze switched to Vegas. “Shoot her dead. Dump her body in the river.”
The words thundered through her, echoing final and resolute.
Shoot her dead.
No matter what Monster promised, and no matter his reasons, she knew he’d do whatever Bastian told him. Everyone did. He was the boss of them all.
Dump her body in the river.
She’d die then. This was her fate. It was sad to end things this way, but she was tired of this existence. She was tired of being broken. Again and again.
She hoped the Dolls could find their way free. She hoped Marlee was out there somewhere, keeping her promise to tell the authorities about them.