by Sam Crescent
Staring straight ahead, she released a breath.
“You’re going to need to go shopping. Do you like to shop?”
“No.”
“You don’t like to shop?” he asked.
She looked at him. “No, I don’t.”
“That is so weird. Most women I know go batshit crazy over a credit card.” He pulled out his wallet and held out a card. “Here you go.”
“You’re just going to let me go shop?” If she was alone maybe she’d find a way out of this mess, one that included cops and a bus ticket to outer space.
“No. Rex is outside waiting for you.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“Your apartment got trashed last night. Other than your purse, which my guy got, there’s nothing worth salvaging. Get some clothes, and he’ll bring you back here.”
“Why? This is only going to create more debt.”
“You’re a difficult woman, aren’t you?”
“I’m not trying to be. I’m just looking at the long-term problem here. You want me to go shopping. My sister owes you money, and I’ve already had enough of dealing with another’s debt to last me a lifetime. I don’t want to make more.”
She held out the card for him to take back.
“How about this is free of charge. Consider it an added bonus for me being the first man inside you.”
Meghan hated that her cheeks heated. “My virginity was not for sale. I just wanted you to stop hurting my sister.”
“Take the damn card, Meghan. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you sister has another broken bone. I can make shit happen with a phone call.”
“Do you even have a nice bone in your body?”
“I do. It’s called a funny bone.”
“Asshole.”
She took the card and stepped out of his office, completely aware of the stares coming her way as she walked back out of the gym.
There was Rex, the big, burly guy from last night.
“I don’t want to be in the same car as you,” she said.
“Boss wants what he does, and we’ve got to follow him.”
“You broke my sister’s arm last night.”
“Again, I’m following orders. She promised to pay. She’s been giving Damon the runaround for a long time. She had it coming.”
“She’s a woman.”
“And women are still supposed to pay their dues. You can’t be screaming for your rights and shit and then demand special treatment. A deal’s a deal. Simple as that. Now get in the car. I’m to take you shopping and get you there and back in one piece.”
She wanted to argue with him. Glancing around the street, she tried to think of any way that she could get out of this. There were alleyways, and the street was filled with people. Would any of them help her?
She’d never seen Damon before, but she knew of his reputation. There was no doubt about it; most knew him.
Seeing no other choice, she made to get into the front passenger side.
“Not happening, honey. You sit in the back.”
“Why?”
“Orders. I follow the rules.”
She rolled her eyes but climbed into the back.
The rules sucked, and if she had her way, she wouldn’t be around long enough to follow them anyway.
****
Rex called Damon several times to let him know Meghan was impossible. She just wouldn’t shop like a normal woman. No matter which place he took her to, she was always around the sale items. She didn’t listen to him about anything, and she hated shopping.
“It’s like taking a teenager around.”
Damon had laughed at that one. He didn’t for a second imagine it was a teenager. Meghan was being difficult on purpose. Most women loved to shop, but she didn’t like the implication of spending more of his money.
He honestly didn’t mind, and wanted her to be comfortable during the time of her stay. He wasn’t a monster, and he’d been right about her place. He’d sent a group of men there this morning, and it was all ransacked. They’d taken most of what they could and he’d put some into storage or at least ordered his men to do that.
Sitting back in his office, he caught up with all of his work, while he waited for the damn file he’d ordered. It never took long for his PI to get him what he wanted.
Patience wasn’t one of his virtues, but it was something he’d forced himself to work with as time went on. Acting rashly wasn’t what made a good leader. He was on top here because he knew when to keep his cool. In a city that was home to many different lords and kings, he knew when to act, and when to wait.
He’d earned his patch of the city, worked hard to keep his respect, and nothing would ever change that.
Running fingers through his hair, he left his office and made his way through the gym, watching a couple of his fighters.
The gym was legit; some of the fighters, not so much.
It always amazed him what the rich would gamble on, and part of that was violence and blood.
Some of the fighters that came through his gym, he’d never see again. Their bodies would be dumped, discarded, and the money earned from their blood, paid in full.
They all knew the risks, and whenever he signed on a new fighter who wanted to compete in the underground ring, he had to go through rigorous testing. Life wasn’t so easily disposable to him when he could make money out of it.
One kid, Rush, was showing amazing signs of being a champion. Damon stood on the sidelines of the ring, watching the sheer anger and rage pouring out of him.
That emotion was best spilled in the underground and not in a ring where people just wanted spectacle.
Thirty minutes later, he’d watched Rush knock out three of the best fighters, and was just taking a break when his PI finally arrived.
“You have everything?” Damon asked.
“It’s all in there. Meghan Bell’s entire fucking life story. Her sister is trouble. I mean serious trouble.”
Not wanting his business spilled in front of his men, he took the file and headed back to his office.
Opening it up, he stared at the photographs that awaited him.
She’d been a virgin in his bed, and seeing her smiling face from high school, along with a few other documents, he was shocked.
Meghan had been a looker in high school as well. Her body possessed all the soft curves of an overweight girl, but she had this beauty that men were always drawn to.
He saw a couple of newspaper clippings as well.
“She was a dancer?” he asked, looking up at the PI.
“She was.” His PI took a seat. “According to my sources, she was set to compete in the championship.”
“I’ve never heard of her.”
“The summer before she was about to compete, she was injured. The medical information is there.”
“A rock fell on her.”
“A porch was being installed. One of those ones made of stone. Fancy like, and fucking heavy. Anyway, her sister tripped or some shit. It was never clear exactly, but the stone dropped on Meghan’s ankle and completely shattered the bone. The time she should have been spent training, she was in the hospital learning to walk again.”
“You think the sister did it on purpose?” Damon asked.
He thought about Rose and wouldn’t put it past the fucking slut. She was a vile creature, and if what Rex said was true, she wouldn’t have had any problem at all hurting Meghan out of petty jealousy.
Last night he’d not seen a single scar on her body, but then, he’d not really been paying attention to her ankles, but her sweet pussy.
“If there was, it was all kept under wraps. No police were called, and it was considered a family accident.”
“She never danced again?”
“Couldn’t, from what I read. Her ankle was too badly damaged. Her life of dance was taken from her, and she turned her attention to her education. Rose Bell never made it to college but has always been a problem child. Due to some unexpl
ained debt, their parents had to remortgage their house.”
The further he got into the file, the angrier he got.
All of Meghan’s life, she’d been paying for her sister’s mistakes. There was just one example after another.
Why was she even helping Rose to begin with?
When he got to the end of the file, he even discovered Rose had taken all of the inheritance their parents left behind. She’d spent the entire lot while Meghan had been working her ass off and studying.
“Sister’s a real piece of work. Family is family though, right?” His PI was an ex-soldier who’d been the only surviving member of his squad when he returned. No one wanted to hire the man that screamed at everyone, and occasionally spat at people he didn’t like.
He was a good tracker though, and amazing for gathering information. Damon had hired him on the spot and also helped set him up in his own business.
“I don’t think the relationship she has with the sister is healthy. I’d cut the bitch out of her life if I could.”
“Thank you for this.” Pulling five grand out of his drawer in a sealed brown envelope, he handed it to him.
“Anything else you need, let me know.”
Damon watched the man leave. He didn’t make a sound as he exited the room. Sitting back in his chair, Damon looked at the file once again.
There was so much information here it was unreal, her achievements within dance as well as her test scores. Everything.
This didn’t make him feel any happier about taking her though, which fucking irritated him.
He was hoping to find something that would make taking Meghan justifiable. Instead, it only made him feel like a long line of people who’d helped her sister hurt her.
Running fingers through his hair, he was fucking pissed, and now he didn’t even have any guilt for the fact he’d put Rose to work, nor would he.
No one had made Rose pay, but he would.
Meghan was going to be treated like a queen with him.
Chapter Five
Shopping was still one of Meghan’s most hated activities on the planet. She put the last dress she’d been forced to purchase in the closet and stood back, admiring all of her new purchases in the overflowing space for clothes.
She shook her head. Half of the clothes she’d never wear, yet Rex had been determined to make her purchase them. It was like he was this weird person who forced women to do what they hated. She didn’t get it. Weren’t men supposed to be super happy at the thought of having a cheap woman who didn’t like ordering anything?
Meghan walked out of the small bedroom and immediately went to the kitchen. It was late, and she was hungry. Rex sat in the living room, flipping through a newspaper as if she didn’t exist.
Opening up the fridge, she tried to hide her gasp of surprise and happiness when she saw more than milk past its use by date. Living with her sister, buying groceries was hard to do.
Many times, she came home from work to discover her ungrateful sister had cleared out the fridge and left her with nothing but a note telling her what to buy.
Don’t let her get to you.
Thinking about her sister made her rub the tip of her foot against her ankle. The scar wasn’t so severe anymore, but every now and then, she’d get a twinge of pain. A reminder of all that she’d lost.
Her parents hadn’t believed that Rose had hurt her on purpose, but she knew the truth. Rose had hated her dancing, at being good at it.
Once again, she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Her parents had told her many times that anger and resentment only made for bitter companions, and she needed to know when to keep her thoughts to herself. Rose was still and would always be her sister.
She grabbed some chicken out of the fridge along with some pine nuts. She couldn’t believe Damon freaking Travers had pine nuts in his fridge. They seemed like such a fancy ingredient, and he had them. She’d already noted the parmesan cheese, garlic, and basil.
Simple, chicken and basil pesto pasta it was.
She loved cooking, or at least, she used to enjoy it in the kitchen with her mother.
Every single year, her mother would bake the best cookies in the world, and they’d always, without fail, be a mega-treat. Whenever Meghan cooked or baked anything, it always reminded her of her mother and helped her to stay calm.
One day a few months back, she’d had a splurge, purchased the flour, sugar, eggs, chocolate chips, and pecans, determined to make her mother’s cookies, only she’d arrived after classes and found Rose, with one of her many boyfriends, had had a food fight. The eggs were cracked all over the floor. Flour and sugar sprayed everywhere and they’d eaten the chocolate chips.
Afterward, Rose had told her not to be so upset or uptight and to consider it a gift because her ass was ever-expanding.
Her size sixteen ass wasn’t a problem though, not to her.
Once again, she’d spiraled down bad memories, and now she felt like shit.
Don’t let her get to you.
You’re better than that.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she focused on preparing the chicken. She placed all the ingredients for the pesto into a food processor, and started to whizz it up as she drizzled in some extra virgin olive oil. She didn’t add too much because she loved to add a zing of lemon juice. To her, it always brightened up the pesto.
The moment it was finished, she had a quick taste, and then added a spoonful to the chicken, smooshing it in the bag to marinate for a few minutes.
She was bringing a large pot of water to boil when Damon finally arrived home.
He came to the kitchen and watched her.
“I hope this is okay,” she said. “Dinner shouldn’t be too long now, you know.”
“What are you making?”
She told him, and he nodded.
“I do love pesto.”
“Excellent. Will your arm breaker be staying?” she asked, glancing past him to the sitting room.
Rex burst out laughing.
“He doesn’t always stay for dinner,” Damon said.
“Great. I don’t have enough for him,” she said. The last thing she wanted to happen was to like the man who’d hurt her sister.
You should never be happy that he broke her arm.
“I need him to stay tonight. I want a word with him in private.”
“Oh, okay, well, I do actually have enough.” There wouldn’t be any leftovers, but she’d already spotted tomatoes, bacon, and lettuce. Lunch tomorrow was already solved.
Damon didn’t linger in the kitchen. The moment he walked away, she felt like she could breathe again. His gaze driving her crazy and making her already frayed nerves go haywire.
He’d been inside her.
This man had been the first person she’d ever fucked.
No matter how hard she tried not to think about that, she couldn’t help but linger each time she looked at him.
He was such a sexy, scary man.
She’d heard many women talk about him over the years, and each one always had something good and bad to say about him.
Now she was the one gracing his bed.
Putting a pan on to preheat, she added some oil and began working the chicken. Ignoring the men who were currently sharing a drink, she finished up dinner and reluctantly served up all three portions.
Carrying them to the table, she put them near the head of one table and took a seat. She was picking up her fork when Damon entered.
“You’re in the wrong spot,” he said.
Glancing up at both men, she frowned. “Does it really matter where I sit?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t see a point in arguing and got to her feet, moving toward the other seat. She should have totally grabbed a piece of chicken.
Both men sat down and were talking about some fight or other. She tuned out, more interested in her food than their work.
“Meghan!”
She glanced up when she heard Damon say her n
ame rather forcefully. “What?” she asked. “What is it?”
“Did you enjoy shopping?”
Rex laughed.
“I don’t like shopping, and he’s a monster, just so you know.”
“Because he forced you to shop.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Some of the items she wished to buy wouldn’t have done for what you wanted. Cheap isn’t Damon’s style.” Rex sat back, rubbing his stomach. “That was delicious.”
She got to her feet and gathered their empty bowls without saying a word. She was finishing up the dishes when Damon entered the kitchen.
“You’re a good cook.”
“My mom taught me, and it was simple. Not a lot of thought going into it.”
“Rex liked it.”
She wasn’t even going to respond to that.
Drying her hands on the towel, Damon made his move, pressing her up against the kitchen counter.
“You don’t have to like him, but he will take care of you.”
“I watched him hurt my sister.”
“You need to understand that your piece of shit sister needs to be hit. Come and join me.” He stepped away, and she watched him go.
Her heart pounded, and even though all she wanted to do was run in the opposite direction, she followed him.
He’d put on some music, and she waited as he poured out two shots of whiskey.
“Have a drink with me,” he said.
“I don’t drink.”
“One won’t kill you.” He held up the glass. “Come on, Meghan. Relax. Enjoy. You’re not going anywhere, so you’ve got to stop fighting this.”
She took a step forward and sipped at the liquid within the glass. It burned like fire as she swallowed it down.
He gave a little chuckle, which she didn’t like at all.
“You have to take your time with it.”
She wrinkled her nose and put the glass down, no longer interested in it.
He shook his head. “You ever drink, party?”
“No.” She sat down on the sofa with a sigh. There was a time she’d been a fun person to hang out with. That hadn’t exactly lasted long.
“Stand up.”
He used the voice that meant no arguing, just following instruction. Biting her lip, she looked up at him, and waited as he took a step toward her.