Razing Grace [Part 2]

by Amo Jones

  I take a sip of my coffee. “I want to come with you.”

  “What? To the shit I have to sort through?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pants.

  “Yeah. I need to stay busy, Raze, or I’ll think. And then when I think….” I stare off into the empty room before looking back at him.

  He steps toward me, his jaw taut and his eyes darkening. I swallow. Oh shit. He grips my other wrist and spins me around until my back is against his chest.

  Dropping his head down to the side of my face, he inhales roughly. “I have a hundred different ways to keep your mind and body busy, babe.” He licks me across the back of my neck, setting off shivers that run over my spine. “But right now, I have shit to sort out.” He pushes me away, pointing toward the closet. “Get changed then we’ll go.”

  I throw on some clothes he bought when I first got here, deciding on casual but tidy. With a sleeveless white silk blouse and black tight pants. Half of me says “Business” and the other half of me screams “Shots!” It’ll do. I let my long hair fall down my back in natural waves and put on a light skimming of makeup. I’m not sure when Raze had all my stuff moved in, but it looks like it has been there for some time now. Having half of my clothes in my old room and the other half in here suits me. It means I’ll always have my space, and I think he made it like that knowing that, sometimes, I might need my privacy. Pulling open the bedroom door, I walk straight past Miles’ room and down the stairs that lead to the foyer.

  “You ready?” he says, taking the keys out of the drawer near the front door.

  “Yeah, I guess.” I don’t know where we’re going or what I have gotten myself into, but fuck it. I’ll wing it. I follow him out the front door and watch as he beeps the Phantom.

  “Ohhh.” I smile. “We’re taking the mob car?”

  He shakes his head with a light chuckle. “It ain’t no mob car, baby. Get in.”

  I slip into the comfortable, cushy leather seat and watch as he puts his seatbelt on. “Where are we going?”

  “To the Army base.”

  Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “What? Why?”

  “Because I run it now.”

  “SAY WHAT?” I ASK, TURNING in my seat as he floors it out of the driveway. “How are you supposed to run that and still be kingpin, Raze? You’re going to burn yourself out.” I pause, exhaling slightly. I know I’m just worried about him. The man has so much going on already, so throwing in this would be chaotic, and not to mention dangerous. I’m not naïve; I know what he does is hazardous, period, but now I feel like it’s double the risk.

  “What happened with La Mont and Cassia?” It comes out as a defeated whisper and sounds weak. I internally slap myself.

  “They’re dealt with, and that’s all you need to know about that,” he answers tightly, his hands gripping around the steering wheel.

  “Why? Why is that all I need to know?”

  “For your protection, Millie.”

  I shake my head. “Nope. You said it wasn’t going to work like this. We had a deal.”

  He’s dodging something, and the old me would have dropped it, but the new me needs to know everything. I want to know everything, so I’m prepared. He seems to have forgotten he made me like this, the inquisitive bitch I am now.

  “Not this. It’s still too fresh. You’ll know shit when I want you to know. This is unnecessary. Just know they’ve been dealt with.”

  “So they’re dead?” I’m not dropping this until I get answers. If there’s one person walking this earth who I want dead, it’s Cassia. So for his safety, she better be dead, or I swear to God I will knock his ass out.

  He leans against his door. “Yes and no.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” My eye twitches.

  His fingers grip around the steering wheel again, this time his jaw joining as he clenches it. I grin. I can’t help it. I like making him mad. The way his square jaw tightens and his lip curls? It’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Pissing my man off just bumped to number one on my list of favorite things to do. I smirk and he notices, looking to me and then back to the road. “You got that look in your eye again, baby.”

  My eyes narrow. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

  He exhales. “The shit with Cassia doesn’t need to make sense, Millie.”

  “But… I should know.”

  “No.”

  “Fine!” I spin around. There’s no way he would’ve kept her alive. Raze was foaming at the mouth to slice her open. “Just tell me she’s dead and then I’ll be fine.” I watch the cars passing on the highway.

  “She’s not dead.”

  “What?” I gasp, my head whipping toward him.

  He shrugs, not bothered. “She’s not.”

  I lean into the seat in defeat. “Take me to get nuggets.” He’s stressing me out, so it’s either nuggets or I punch him out and then we’ll crash. I happen to like this car.

  “Babe, I have to—”

  I massage my temples, breathing in and out and counting to ten in my head. My eyes close. “Now, Raze.”

  He pauses, watching me closely. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, taking the first exit off the highway.

  We pull into the high wire gates, and everything seems to look normal. There are no bodies lying in puddles of blood, no empty shells or silent cries. Still… this place is haunted to the core, and it was also the last place I ever saw Miles.

  “Raze?” I whisper, shoving another chicken nugget into my mouth. I look toward him to catch him already watching me. “What are we going to do about Amy?” Shit timing, I know, but nuggsperation hit me, and now I’m reminded of how much of an ass-wipe he’s been about the baby.

  His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?” Pulling up the emergency break, he keeps his eyes locked on mine.

  “I mean.” I turn to face him, knowing full well this isn’t the right time to ask him this question, but as usual, I have no filter and I kind of enjoy ticking him off. That’s a lie; I flat out love it. “She’s having Miles’ baby. Do you not even care a little bit?” I crumble up the brown bag.

  “No.” His eyes remain on mine, unflinching and unaffected.

  “No?” I scoff. “How can you give a shit about Miles and not about his kid, Raze? It doesn’t add up.”

  He unclips his seatbelt, seeming to mull over his thoughts before an idea almost flashes across his face. “Because it’s a fucking kid, Millie. Miles wouldn’t have wanted that—ever! He never wanted kids. We were mutual on many things, and that was one of them.”

  And that was one of them.

  I’ll save that conversation for another time nuggsperation hits me and I decide I want to be a pain in the ass by stressing out about our future. I mean, when you look at Raze, he’s not exactly someone you can picture building a white picket fence with and spurting out a ton of babies for. But do I mentally want to shut off any possibility of having kids? No, not really.

  “I’m thinking that if he had the chance to hold his baby in his arms, I’m sure he would change his mind almost instantly. You and Miles may be similar in some ways, but he wasn’t as cold as you are, and don’t you ever take that away from him or my memory of him.” I go to pull on the door handle, suddenly mad at him. Past funny mad, I’m in the red zone. “Oh, and you will warm up to this baby, Raze, or so help me God, I will fucking kill you myself.”

  Then I push open the door and step out onto the dirt ground. Motherfucker thinks he can just cut a baby out of his life like that. This was Miles’ kid! But then, the rational side of my brain—which, if I’m being honest, isn’t a very large side—knows this is Raze. He doesn’t have a fatherly bone in his body. Yes, he’s protective of me, and possessive, and all things in-between, but even then, I’m sure even I don’t have the emotional capability to pull out father-like feelings from him.

  I slam the door and begin walking toward the main house, where Kurr used to reside, below which the basement is, ignoring the fact this place
is basically a burial ground.

  “And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Raze snaps, slamming the door behind me, gaining the interest of a few soldiers walking past.

  Flipping him off over my shoulder, I yell, “Wherever the fuck I want. Fuck you very much.”

  I pull out a seat beside Raze in the big auditorium that’s beside the main house. There has to be around fifty soldiers in here. The 6, and a few women too, but by their dress code, I’m guessing they’re cooks, nurses, and the like. My eyes drift to the spot where Miles laid the last time I saw him, before they close, shutting everything out. The chatting, the murmuring, it all gets silenced by my labored breathing. Every intake of breath feels heavy, thick, and claustrophobic. A bead of sweat trickles down my temple.

  “Baby?” Raze’s voice sounds off in the distance somewhere. “Pet!” he snaps at me, instantly pulling me out of my haunted memories.

  “Yeah?” I look at him without really looking at him, and when his eyes narrow, I know that fact doesn’t go unnoticed. From what feels like day one, we’ve been able to have a complete conversation with our eyes only. My favorite one is the eye roll, where I tell him to get fucked.

  “Come here.” He takes my hand and pulls me down onto his lap.

  “Raze, I feel stupid on your lap,” I manage to whisper into his ear, ignoring all the eyes that are now watching us.

  He looks at me, his eyes slanting. “Get used to it, because it’s where you fucking belong.” Then he looks out onto the—or his—awaiting people. Anyone would think this is the last meal and he is Jesus himself.

  “So you all know why you’re here. We have issues that need to be addressed,” he begins, and I wiggle on his lap, only for his grip to tighten around me.

  Fucking hell. I look over his shoulder to see The 6 in a line at his back, all in staunch stances, the ones they always use. They’re robotic and inhuman, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t intrigue me. The old me was terrified of them, but now I find them interesting.

  I look toward Angel, the man who wears the white mask and who made me wear the angel wings on the night it was his turn while I was in the dungeon. A chilling sense of uncertainty shimmies down my spine. I’m not exactly sure what it is that scares me most about him, but I’m guessing it has something to do with his sense of calm. The way he has such a smooth, almost demure demeanor. That’s absolutely lethal, because he’d slit your throat with a completely stoic expression on his face. He reminds me a little of Miles, only Miles was crazy.

  Thinking of Miles, my muscles tense, so I take my eyes off the men and look out to the crowd of people Raze is speaking to.

  “So, as I said, we need to stay under the radar for a bit, at least until the heat disappears from President La Mont’s death. We’ve found a new supplier for product.” He pauses and grins at me, his eyes darkening. “And they begin in two weeks.”

  What was that look?

  He continues, “Nothing much changes around here. Only, you have more protection and I have a stronger hold on what goes on out there.” He points out the door. “Which means you don’t need to be scared. But, shit doesn’t change. The cause is still the same. We have a hit list. The 6 take care of it. We go to battle? We all go, and nurses take care of the wounded.” He stops, and then looks up to me. “And let this be a warning.” His mouth kicks up in a grin, his eyes twinkling with known mischief. Oh no. “Any man who lays one hand on this girl here”—his knee jiggles underneath me—“will be dickless before he can blink, and skinless before he takes his next breath.” He looks back out to the crowd. “She is mine.” I drop my eyes down to his lips that curve into a perfect pout. I smile.

  He opens his mouth, dismissing everyone, and I drop my lips to his ear. “I’m yours, huh? Better fuck me like you mean it then.” His jaw tenses against my cheek and I smirk.

  Pushing up from the chair, he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.

  “Yo! Raze?” Joker yells out, just as we reach the front doors.

  “Fuck off, I’ll be back soon.” Raze kicks through the doors, and I laugh while bumping up and down over his shoulder, ignoring all the glares the women are giving me. I scowl at them and then smirk, realizing how bitter they’re being. I’ve come to realize a great sense of enjoyment fills me when I see girls getting jealous. They’re the ones who think I’m better than them, not me.

  “Fuck you like I mean it, huh? Think you can handle that, pet?”

  He swings open the main house doors, and I laugh. “Think you can, Mr. Hot and Heavy?”

  He chuckles, and I swear that sound could put the fear of God into angels. “Oh, baby, you have no idea.”

  Actually, I do. I have an idea of how twisted Raze can get, but yet, the deep, dark, and deranged side of me wants to poke the big, scary monster. He continues to walk toward a door, and it’s not until the familiar flicker of the candles hanging on the cold concrete walls catches my attention that I understand where he’s taking me.

  “You motherfucker,” I whisper.

  “What?” He grins, hiking me up farther on his shoulder while taking the first step down. “Don’t like the dungeon, baby? Thought you wanted to play.”

  Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, he slams open a cell door, dropping me to the ground, where I fall with a thud. Grinning, I lean back on my elbows, the dirt pressing into my skin. Raze grabs his shirt by the back of his collar and rips it off, displaying his magnificent body to me in all its raw beauty. I lick my bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth and tilting my head.

  “Looking at me like that will get you fucked so hard you’d want to piss out your mouth from being so sore, pet.” My mouth slams shut but legs open slightly. Raze yanks off his belt, his pants now falling lazily off his hips, his cock the only thing keeping them up.

  “Stand.” I push up off the ground, following his demanding order. “Turn around.”

  My eyes flick to the belt that’s wrapped around his hands before I look back into his eyes. “What are you doing?”

  A sly grin tips the corners of his mouth. He steps toward me. “Whatever…” I step backwards. “The fuck…” My ass hits the cold metal bars of the cell. His lips skim over my ear, before he growls, “I want.” He circles my ear with his tongue before dragging it down to my jaw and all the way to my lip. Running his slick tongue over the rim of my bottom lip, he steps back slightly, bringing the belt up to my neck. He wraps it around the bars before locking it tightly, so my neck is joined to the bar.

  “Raze?” My throat moves against the belt as I swallow.

  “Shhh.” He grins. “Every time you talk?” He brings his hand up to the belt, and goose bumps ignite over my flesh as his fingertip skims over my neck. “I’ll tighten this a notch.” He steps back, pulling his slacks down farther. “Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them.”

  Swallowing past the pressure, I cross my hands behind my back, clenching them together. Am I scared? Hell yes, I am. Excitement bubbles to the surface, though, only enhancing my fear. He steps forward, tilting his head, and examines me inch by inch. I can almost feel the heat coming off the raw hunger in his eyes. The predator in him pacing back and forth, wanting, panting, craving to be unleashed.

  He grabs the thick bulge molding his boxer briefs and watches me, heat crawling up my face and exploding throughout my body. Slowly, he reaches inside and licks his lips before pulling himself out, letting his heavy cock sit in the palm of his hand. My eyes zone in on him as he works himself slowly, pumping back and forth. “You want this,” he confirms with a lazy growl, his eyes hooded.

  I lick my lips. “You know I do.”

  “Did I say you could talk?” He lets go of himself and walks back to me until his chest brushes over my hard nipples. He runs the tip of his nose down the bridge of mine, his lips so close I can taste his minty breath slithering down my throat. Brushing his lips over mine casually, his eyes still searching mine, his mouth drops to the belt that’s restrained around my nec
k and pulls on it with his teeth until the metal pin loosens. He yanks his head back, and I yelp as the belt tightens around me and the metal pole. I can almost feel my airways cutting out with each desperate intake of breath.

  “Raze? Can I get a safe word or something?” My throat burns from asking.

  He laughs, his eyes darkening and his lip kicking up in a smirk. “This look like a red room to you?” He gestures around the cell with his massive arms. “Naw, pet. That ain’t how I play.”

  Sucking my lip into my mouth, I can’t fight the smile that creeps onto my face. He walks back to me, pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and bites down until I’m sure the imprint of his teeth is molded into my flesh. Running his hands over my front, he glides down toward my pants and pops off the button, his eyes remaining on mine.

  “This is mine. Understood?” he asks, pulling my pants down slowly, his eyes glued to mine. “There is no second-guessing. No ‘I’ll think about it.’ Fuck that. You’re mine, Millie. You have been since day one and you know it.” I swallow nervously. “Nod,” he orders.

  I comply, and then he throws my black pants to the other side of the cell, tilting his head and licking his lips as the tip of his cock rubs against my clit. “Mine.” He tears my panties off in one movement, and drops to his knees.

  “Ra—”

  His mouth cloaks my folds slowly, his tongue drawing out and licking from my entry all the way up to my clit. “Mine,” he repeats, growling against my clit and throwing my leg over his shoulder. My eyes roll to the back of my head as his tongue presses, laps, and explores every single inch of my swollen flesh.

  “Who do you belong to, pet?” he snarls.

  I mumble incoherent words, closing my eyes as my fingers dive into his hair.

  The building pleasure deep in my core stops. The impending pleasure inside of me withdraws. I scream out in frustration, “Ah! Raze! Why’d you stop?”

  “Who do you belong to?” he reiterates.